Day 67 ~ Ancona, Italy—Now that’s Italian…or maybe Greek!

Traveling is the ruin of all happiness! There's no looking at a building after seeing Italy.  ~ Fanny Burney

Situated on the Adriatic Sea, Ancona is the first of many Italian ports of call on our itinerary. The Greeks were the original settlers here and Ancona, their name for the place, means “elbow” and describes the natural harbor here. Though the town beckoned with its own ancient walls and interesting-looking cathedral high on a hilltop, we were headed into the countryside of the Marche (rhymes with Parkay!) region to visit the walled Renaissance town of Urbino. The Marche area is achingly lovely, a rumpled patchwork quilt tossed at the feet of the Apennines (the mountain range that runs down the middle of Italy like an exposed spine).

Urbino is everything you’d expect a walled town to be. It was like stepping into the Game of Thrones, except for a few stray automobiles. The streets are cobbled and never level.

In fact, the grade we had to walk to reach the piazza with a fountain that was to be our final meeting point was steeper than Matterhorn Drive in Park City, Utah (We used to live on the side of the mountain there at an elevation of 7200 feet!) Then after a short respite to catch our breaths, our guide led us up another winding street to the Ducal Palace that has been transformed into an art gallery.

The palace was originally home to Federico da Montefeltro, first the Count, then the Duke of Urbino. You may have seen this remarkable painting of him. He wasn’t born with a profile like that. During a joust, he suffered a terrible injury that took his right eye and deformed his nose, but he survived. A man of culture, he took pains to cultivate artists like Francesca and Raphael, who was born in Urbino.

Raphael’s La Muta is reminiscent of Da Vinci’s La Gioconda (aka Mona Lisa) and in fact the two men were good friends. However, Raphael had a fierce rivalry with Michaelangelo and both feared the other would steal ideas for their work. (There was no such thing as a copyright then. Musicians often lifted themes from others’ compositions.  Handel was notorious for this, but his renditions were generally considered an improvement on the originals.)

Francesca’s Flagellation of Christ was the first known example of vanishing point perspective. Our guide is pointing out the central spot to which all invisible lines attach, giving the work depth both in space and time. The foreground figures are all dressed in Renaissance clothing. It would be as if they were in business suits today. The figures around Christ are farther in the background and deeper in time as well.

After touring the first floor of the palazzo, (BTW, Europeans call the street level “Ground” and what Americans would call the second floor, they name the first.) we had a little free time to grab lunch before returning to our motor coach. I had a cheese croissant sandwich and was just starting to eat my chocolate fundamente gelato (OMGosh! Creamy, sweet and rich enough to serve at the Marriage Feast of the Lamb!) when our guide called for us to head to the waiting bus.

But we didn’t go back down the steep way we’d come into Urbino. Instead, she led us UP! I couldn’t eat and breathe and walk at the same time, so I sorrowfully dumped more than half the gelato in a trash bin and began the miserable slog up a lane that was even steeper than the first one we took to enter the town.

I can walk on uneven surfaces and climb stairs and hills, but I need to monitor my O2 sats while I do it to make sure I don’t drop to unsafe levels. This makes keeping up with a group problematic. I had to stop three times and wait until my numbers came back up to the high 90’s before continuing. But I wasn’t alone. Along with the DH, several members of the group hung back with me when I had to stop. Their encouragement was priceless.

And here’s where it gets weird. Once we reached the upper gate to exit the walled city, we were led to a set of escalators to go DOWN from level 10 to level 7. Then we took an elevator down to level 6 where we had to change to a different elevator to go all the way to level 0. Then we walked across a parking lot to where our bus waited.

I’m happy to report I was not the last one to make to the bus. A party of four came after us. Then the bus drove around the town of Urbino and back to the lower gate where we’d first entered the town to pick up two more guests from our group.

By all that’s holy, WHY?

This excursion was designated “moderate,” but if that was moderate a “strenuous” trip would have killed me. But despite the illogical way our tour was organized, I really enjoyed the visit to Urbino. This was Princess’s maiden call to Ancona, and there are obviously a few bugs to be worked out with their excursion partners. The easy fix would be to drop us off at the upper gate and let us walk mostly downhill to be picked up at the lower gate.

I’m sure they’ll figure things out for the next group that comes to Urbino. I could stand to go again. After all, I’m sort of owed the rest of that gelato!

      

Day 66 ~ Zadar, Croatia

March 29,2018

“Try not to take the same excursion in every port.” ~ Kainoa, our cultural guide on the 2016 South Pacific cruise

This was sound advice, because one “around the island” tour is very much like another. In the Mediterranean, we could easily fall into the walk-about a medieval town and visit cathedrals rut. So today, we decided to “get out of Dodge” on a trip to Krka National Park, about 75 minutes drive away from the town of Zadar.

The winged lion of St. Mark on this arch shows that Zadar was once under the influence of the Venetian Republic, a major medieval trading power.

Getting out of the port town gave us a chance to see the countryside, which I’m sorry to say was the rockiest stretch of ground I’ve ever seen. The DH says he thinks it was because as the glaciers retreated they dumped tons of stones on the area. He may be right.

However, our guide Maryanna assured us the soil is fertile once the rocks are cleared off—a Herculean task if ever there was! We saw several vineyards and orchards where the rocks had been removed.

Our ears popped as we climbed up into the mountains to Krka. It was a beautiful drive that ended with the thunder of Skradinski Buk. The water falls of 17 steps stretched over 800 meters (2600 ft). There’s a  45.7 meter drop (148.5 ft!) from top to bottom.

I chose this tour because the DH loves waterfalls. He looks pretty happy, doesn’t he?

In order to appreciate the magnitude of the falls, we took a bit of a hike. We walked the entire loop marked in yellow on the map above. Most of it was on elevated wooden walkways without handrails for the most part. We decided the Croatians must be a must less litigious society than Americans, because it would have been so easy to catch a toe on a raised board and tumble over into the water. Perhaps there are no liability laws here. Anyway, we minded how we went and had no trouble.

Until we came to the first set of 80+ stair steps down—irregular, rocky, and occasionally pie wedge-shaped instead of rectangular. We took our time making it to the bottom and had no trouble.

The pay off was a walk across the broad river on a bridge (with handrails this time!) and from there, a stunning view of the falls. It pounded the dark granite in its rush to join the sea.  The air smelled so fresh, as if rain-washed by a sudden downpour. A fine mist kissed our cheeks. It was a moment I’ll remember for a long time.

There were some shops near the bridge, but because I knew it would take me a long time to climb the 120+ back up to where the bus would be waiting, we decided to head up before the rest of the group. It wasn’t long until some of them were passing us by, but they all gave me words of encouragement as we climbed and rested, climbed and rested. I was not the last to make it back to the bus, and that made me very happy. I don’t want to make my fellow travelers wait for me.

When traveling with a physical limitation it’s important to be realistic about what you can do. I’ve tried to avoid excursions labeled “strenuous.” But it’s also important to stretch yourself, so I don’t shy away from those marked “moderate.” I’ve been training for excursions by walking daily on the ship, aiming for 6000 steps a day. Today my step count was well over 8000!

What I can’t train for is how my lungs function. I can only monitor my O2 saturation and stop when it drops too far. If I can take my time and rest a bit, my O2 numbers go back up and I can climb a lot of steps.

Everything has something that holds them back sometimes. I wish you good fortune in overcoming your obstacle, whatever it may be.

Day 65~ Kotor, Montenegro, or Follow That Cat!

Half of the fun of travel is the aesthetic of lostness. ~ Ray Bradbury

We may not be seeing Norway on this trip, but the DH got a chance to sail into a honkin’ big fjord this morning. Kotor is located at the far end of an extensive inland waterway called Boka Bay (I’m thinking “boka” is related to the Italian word “boca” which means mouth.) Here’s a relief map of the area we found at the Maritime Museum.

That’s Kotor at the farthest southeastern tip of the fjord. Our waiter Raj told us that 4 times out of 5, this port has to be cancelled, because it there’s the least bit of rough seas, there’s not enough room for a big cruise ship to maneuver. This is the view of the black mountains, from which Montenegro takes its name, from Deck 10. If you look carefully, you’ll be able to make out the mountain top fortress and ancient defensive walls climbing this sheer slope. It’s an amazing feat of medieval engineering!

Fortunately, the Pacific Princess is petite as cruise ships go and we slipped alongside the old town area of Kotor with no problems. The walls you saw snaking up the mountain stretch all the way down to the sea and around the crooked lanes of the ancient town. This was our destination for today.

After sitting out on the balcony for the sail in, I remembered why I packed a bunch of sweaters! I even dug out my wool poncho from the suitcase under our bed! The temperature struggled to reach 60 degrees F in the afternoon and the morning was quite brisk. The DH said it felt like northern Minnesota in fall. It put me in the mind of an F. Scott Fitzgerald quote:  Life starts all over again when it gets crisp in the fall. (Yes, I know it’s technically early spring here, but we recently had summer as we rounded Australia and sweltered through Southeast Asia and the Middle East, so my seasonal clock is completely off.)

We’d had a tour booked through Princess, but when we realized how close the old town was from our berth, we cancelled, deciding there was no point in riding a bus for an hour and a half each way to see another medieval town when a perfectly good one was sitting on our doorstep. (BTW, if you want a refund for a previously booked excursion you need to cancel 24-48 hours in advance, which we did.) So after breakfast, we ran the gauntlet of taxi drivers hawking private tours and walked over to the sea gate to enter the walled town.

Our first point of interest was this “Cone of Shame” at the base of an old clock tower. Residents who broke the rules were required to stand before it, acknowledging their errors. Evidently, shame was effective to coerce folks into good behavior during the Middle Ages. There were no remnants of stocks or a pillory, but I wouldn’t be surprised if one was used.

We had a map of the town, but it was of little use since the town is a higgledy-piggledy mess of lanes with no street names. We knew the general direction of the St. Tryphon Cathedral that was our destination, and by following our noses, we managed to walk right to it. (FYI, there was a charge of 2.50 Euros each for us to enter)

Originally consecrated in 1166, the cathedral suffered a terrible earthquake in recent years that destroyed the south tower. It was rebuilt to match the remaining tower and reopened in 2016. While we were in the sanctuary, a tour group came in and wandered about for about ten minutes, their voices echoing up into the gothic arched ceiling and phone cameras clicking. We slid into a pew and waited for the stillness that had reigned before their arrival to return. Sacred spaces fascinate me and I love to linger to join my prayers to the thousands of others that have been lifted up from there in the past.

Our next stop was the Maritime Museum (4 euro entrance fee, but well worth it). But we weren’t sure which of the myriad lanes spoking away from the cathedral we needed to take to reach it. We weren’t too concerned, however. Because we were in a walled town, if we reached the wall, all we had to do was walk along it to find our way out of the maze of streets. Then I spied a black that that seemed to know where it was going, so I said to the DH, “Let’s just follow that cat.”

Not only did the cat know where it was going, it seemed to know where we wanted to go. It led us through several narrow ways that opened into a wider courtyard directly in front of the door of the Maritime Museum that was housed in the 17^th century Grgurina Palace.

Oh, Captain, my Captain!

I expected to see a collection of ships in a bottle but the three stories of displays included the parlor furniture from a number of medieval homes of wealthy families were set up to recreate the spaces. There were a number of fascinating paintings—one of Catherine the Great!—and in one room they had even put down an original inlaid wood floor from a 15^th century palace.

Our next destination was the 18^th century Church of St. Nicolaus and the very ancient (circa 1085 AD) Church of St. Luke. We weren’t allowed to enter St. Luke’s, but the Church of St. Nicolaus was open and it was filled with elaborate silver embossed icons.

Outside of the church we were approached by a mother and her little girl asking for money. We’d just put our last euro in the St. Nicolas poor box. But if we’d have given them something, we’d have likely been inundated by the many other people holding out empty cups that had gathered while we were inside the church.

We had expected to see beggars in India and we did. We were surprised to see them here because the town of Kotor looked so well-kept and prosperous. Later, we learned from our port expert that the influx of refugees into Mediterranean countries has created an underclass of people who don’t speak the local language and aren’t employable. We’ve been warned to be on alert for pickpockets, especially during our upcoming call at Venice. We always dress simply when we leave the ship and wear no jewelry. Both of us even leave our wedding rings in our cabin safe. There’s no need to tempt someone.  

The old town that had been fairly deserted when we arrived began to fill up. So we made our way through the growing crowds back to the sea gate (this time without a feline escort!) and across the street to the Pacific Princess.     

Our sail away was beautiful and we couldn’t resist taking a pic of these two small islands near one of the choke points in the fjord.

Between the two of us, we took over 200 pics of Kotor. Actually, that’s our usual average per port. I’d love to share more of them with you, but uploading a single picture can take several precious internet minutes. (I’ve burned through 1630 minutes on my shipboard account and pilfered about half that from the DH’s!) Once we get home to our internet that flows by the gallon, I plan to go back through the blog adding to each day’s post.

For now, I want to give you a heads up that we have nearly used up our allotted minutes for this segment and may not get more till Venice on April 1^st. So if I miss a few days till then, please don’t fret. We’re continuing to have adventures and I’m still writing. Once we have more minutes, I’ll publish several posts at once.

In the meantime, we’ll visit Zadar, Croatia on March 29^th , Ancona, Italy on the 30^th, and Koper, Slovenia on the 31^st before we reach Venice on Easter Sunday! It’s a whirlwind of a schedule.

Pray for us… ;-)     

Day 64 Continued ~ An Evening at Sabatini’s

The food at the Main Dining Room on the Pacific Princess is excellent. But last night Table 60 decided to move to an onboard specialty restaurant en masse to celebrate a few things.

First cause for celebration: Vicki and Craig’s cabin seems to no longer be possessed by a malevolent spirit. They were naturally disappointed when they had to move from the spacious Owner’s Suite they’d had during the last segment into a mini-suite, but Cabin 8057 had more than its share of problems. One day, they had no water for a while. One night, they had no lights. (Try showering in the dark on a pitching ship!) On another night, they couldn’t turn the lights off! However, everything seems to be ship-shape and Bristol-fashion now and to make it up to them for the inconvenience, Princess gave them a complimentary meal at Sabatini’s.

Left to right: Shirley, David, Craig, Vicki, Kadek, Me, the DH, Raj, Emily, David

So they asked if we’d all like to make reservations to join them and we agreed. (Just FYI, Sabatini’s and Sterling Steak House, the other specialty restaurant, have an extra charge of $29 per person as of this writing. It’s well worth the extra, especially if you’re celebrating!)

Next cause for celebration: Emily’s birthday! Her husband David had already arranged with Oscar (our amazing Maitre ‘D) to bake a green cake with a four leaf clover on it in his Irish wife’s honor. Then this generous couple invited Raj, our regular waiter, and Kadek, his assistant, to join us as their guests. It was such fun to have these hard-working young men seated at the table with us for a change.

Third cause for celebration: Kadek’s promotion! He’s been promoted from being Raj’s assistant to a waiter in his own right, with five 2-person tables in Club Class. (Club Class is a sectioned off area in the Main Dining Room where guests in Owner’s Suites, or those who want to pay handily to join this exclusive spot always have a table reserved. They can come for a meal at any time instead of having to come at 5:15 PM for first seating, or, as in our case, 7:30 PM for 2^nd seating.) We’re so happy for him, but sad for us, because it means we won’t be seeing him for supper each evening after Venice.

So what did you have at Sabatini’s? I hear you asking.

We all started with a mini-appetizer of prosciutto, and green and black olives. Then I ordered the artichoke and goat cheese soufflé. Yum!

Sabatini’s is an Italian restaurant, which means there’s a pasta course. I went a little wild and ordered Spaghetti frutti del mar.  (I asked my waiter to remove the langostino for me. I can’t bear to eat something that’s looking back at me!)

For the main course, I had lobster tail and by then conversation (and uzo) was flowing around the table in such plenty, I forgot to take a picture. Just imagine the langostino much bigger and without its head and pinchers!  

For desert, everyone had a piece of Emily’s cake. But I asked for the teensiest slice because I really wanted to try the tiramisu I’d seen on the menu. It was chocolate heaven on a plate.

That's espresso  ice cream to go with it!

    

And speaking of heaven… I thought I’d share one of Craig’s jokes.

A priest and a tour bus driver arrived at the Pearly Gates at the same time. The priest was surprised to hear St. Peter tell him that the bus driver would enter heaven before him.

“Why?” The man of God wanted to know.

“Well, it’s based on how many people you led to God. When you did your job of preaching, you put people to sleep.” St. Peter gestured toward the tour bus driver. “When he did his job, everybody was praying!”

To wrap up, I’d like to add a fourth reason to celebrate: Friendship! We’ve been so blessed to meet all these wonderful people. Going around the world is an incredible adventure. Having the Table 60 gang to share it with is priceless!   

Day 64 ~ It's All Greek To Me!

March 27, 2018, Corfu, Greece

 Travelling is like flirting with life. It’s like saying, ‘I would stay and love you, but I have to go; this is my station’.  ~ Lisa St. Aubin de Teran

I couldn’t resist that quote because today begins an eight day marathon of port days for us without a single sea day as a respite!

This was our only view of Santorini

After missing our stops at Santorini and Aghios Nicolaus, Crete, the bridge crew set a westerly course to pass south of the Peloponnesian peninsula. Then we headed north, leaving the Aegean and entering the Ionian Sea. (Point of interest: On this trip, we’ve sailed more seas than I knew existed—Tasman Sea, Java Sea, South China Sea, Andaman Sea, Arabian Sea, Mediterranean Sea, Aegean Sea and now the Ionian.)

After so many sea days, I was ready to get off the boat this morning!

The excursion team also had to go into high gear to arrange for tours for our previously unscheduled call at Corfu. This island has been under control of various entities throughout most of its history. The Corinthians claimed it before the inhabitants of Corfu entered into an alliance with Athens. The Romans, Byzantines, Venetians, Italians, French, and English all took turns. The only invading force the residents managed to repel was the Ottoman Empire. That’s why the architecture on the island bears little resemblance to the white-washed sugar cube houses and blue domes we’d expected to see on Santorini and Crete. All the conquerors left their mark here in Corfu.

But some who came, came for love. However, I’m getting ahead of myself.

We boarded our tour bus for drive into the mountains and to a traditional Greek village called Kato Garouna. Our guide as an informative young lady named Elene, which she explained was the same as Helen in English. When I dubbed her Helen of Corfu, she got quite a kick out of it.

Helen ofCorfu

Kato Garouna was as un-touristy as one could hope. The streets were not cobbled exactly, more like smooth slabs of stone. As we walked along, I made sure to glance down every space between the cheek-by-jowl houses and was rewarded!

Off the main streets, narrow alleys wound around and up and down. All homes must be painted certain colors, a terra cotta red, pale orange/yellow, dusty pink or cream. The effect is a lovely color palette, but what I would call “deferred maintenance,” the inhabitants seem to regard as charming. Mold and lichen abound, and every roof and eaves trough sprouts with grass and moss.   

Helen led us to a small museum housed in an old olive oil factory where we saw the old olive press still in its place.

In an adjoining room, a craftswoman demonstrated the art of carpet weaving. She uses “Persian knots” for her work, and the carpet is so dense, there are 600 knots per square inch!

  

Then we stopped by a taverna for a Greek snack—olives, goat cheese, salami, and homemade bread with olive oil. The bread was perfect, crusty on the outside and soft inside. 

We were told we couldn’t have water, but we were required to have wine! The DH took a glass of white and I chose red, so we could both taste each of them. Both vintages were very dry, which we like.

Next, we visited Achilleion Palace, built for the Empress Elisabeth of Austria in the late 1800’s. She was obsessed with Greek culture, and the structure is designed with Achilles as the central theme.

The home is filled with elegant statuary and paintings, like this exquisite private chapel.

Every place you look there’s something amazing. I kept reminding myself to look up. These corbels were embellished with statues.

Once outside, we negotiated an uneven set of steps up to the Italian garden arranged around a huge bronze statue of Achilles looking out over the Ionian Sea.

The statue is so large it had to be shipped to the island in pieces and reassembled in the garden.

Another statue of the hero Achilles dominates the other end of the garden, but in this one, he’s not the conquering hero. According to myth, Achilles’ mother wanted her half-god son to be immortal so she dipped him into the River Styx. All of his body was protected against injury except for the heel his mother held him by when she dunked him. In typical Greek tragedy tradition, Achilles carried the seed of his own destruction inside himself. In this statue, he’s dying after being struck in the heel by an arrow.

Our day in Corfu was lovely. After all the stark, sandy vistas we’ve been treated to lately, this lush, green island is a balm for our dry eyes. If we ever are fortunate enough to come back, there are many more things I’d like to see and do here—the convent on Mouse Island, the new fort built by the Venetians in the 1500’s, and the old one from much earlier. The list goes ever on…

Day 62 & 63 ~ Santorini and Crete…Not so much

All journeys have secret destinations of which the traveler is unaware.
~ Martin Buber

I’m sure Mr. Buber has a metaphysical destination in mind, but for us, our real and not-so-secret destinations have changed. This morning at 7 AM, Captain Slight came over the intercom in our stateroom to announce that we would not be making a stop at Santorini, Greece, after all. The sea conditions were just too rough for tendering in to port, and the weather was expected to deteriorate further during the day. He was right. As we sailed away, we could see a rain storm gathering and then drenching the island.

If we’d arrived as scheduled, we’d have been required to use local tenders instead of the ones on the Pacific Princess. The Greek Longshoremen’s union is strong enough to demand that they be given the opportunity to ferry passengers back and forth when a cruise ship enters the ancient caldera that serves as their port. When the locals said the conditions were too rough for tendering, our captain had to take their word.

Had we reached Santorini (named for St. Irene), we’d intended to take the funicular (Read: steep tram like the one in Juneau) up to the rim of the island. There we would have strolled about seeing what we could see. It might not have been much because it’s Sunday (Palm Sunday at home, but not here. The Greek Orthodox calendar puts Easter a week later than ours. Still, it would have been fun to slip into a service and seen how our Christian brothers and sisters worship on this island.) March 25^th is also Greek Independence Day. Lots of shops and all of the museums would be closed in honor of the day.

Even so, the natural beauty of Santorini would have been laid before us.  About 1650 BC, the volcano that formed the island blew its top off, leaving the remains of the island with steep 700+ foot cliffs dropping down to the brilliant blue of the flooded caldera. Side note: Some historians posit that Santorini and the other islands in the Cyclades archipelago may have been the fabled Atlantis.

While we were having breakfast with Vicki and Craig, and coming to terms with our change of plans, Captain Slight came back on the ship’s intercom. Our stop at Aghios Nicolaus, (pronounced “eye-yoss nikor-lowse”) on the island of Crete, another tender port, was also being cancelled. All ports on the Aegean Sea were experiencing the same storm system.

So, we’ll have two more sea days on our way to an unexpected stop in Corfu, Greece. It’s on the western side of the Grecian peninsula—closer to the Adriatic Sea than the Aegean and out of this foul weather system. Fingers crossed that we’ll be able to dock instead of ride a tender in.

A gentle warning here to all would-be cruisers…itineraries may change without warning. Tender ports (places without a dock for ships to tie up to) are at more risk of being skipped because the weather can render them impossible. We almost had to cancel Bay of Islands in New Zealand, but conditions suddenly took a turn for the better as we drew near. But even ports with a well-designed dock and passenger terminal can be by-passed if there is political upheaval, terrorist activity, or a natural disaster (like the earthquake in Christchurch, NZ a few years ago). Princess puts our safety first and I’m glad of it. Of course, I’m disappointed to miss Santorini and Crete, but I’m more interested in arriving alive back home in late April.

So today is a good day for the DH to catch up on his afternoon napping. Tomorrow, too, but he’ll have to nap early. The Harmony Choir concert has been moved to tomorrow afternoon because that will be our last sea day in this segment, which ends in Venice.   

As for me, it’s time to start my walk around deck 7 and see if I can hit my slightly loftier step count goal of 6000. I only managed a bit over 4500 yesterday due to the pitching deck, but on the plus side, my phone did think I’d climbed 27 floors.

More once we reach Corfu on the 27^th …

Day 60 ~ Ship of the Desert & Day 61 ~ We Meet the Med

March 23, 2018

Last night the Pacific Princess dropped anchor near the southern entrance to the Suez Canal to await our turn. There is a pecking order of the seas and priority is given first to naval vessels (from any country), then passenger ships, and bringing up the rear are container ships and freighters. Since there was no naval ship anchored by 2300 (11 PM) yesterday, this morning, as Captain Slight hoped this morning we were given the first position to lead the convoy through. Naval and passenger ships are faster and more maneuverable than the others. It reminds me of the way they position breeds in a dog show—the sleek hounds first and the little hay bale with feet (Read: Pekinese) waddling along at the end of the line. 

We woke a little before 5 AM to the sound of the PP's anchor being hauled up, so we were watching our transit from the very first!

The Suez Canal was completed in 1869, cost $100 million to build, though the initial estimate was S41 million. Evidently cost overruns are not new to this century. Thousands of lives were lost in the construction process. But once the canal was opened, it revolutionized shipping. The canal saved nearly 5000 miles off an easterly trip from Europe to Asia because there was no longer any need to round the Cape of Good Hope at the southern tip of Africa. The Suez isn’t like the Panama Canal. Because there’s no appreciable difference in elevation between the Mediterranean Sea and the Indian Ocean, there are no locks needed. But digging out a 104 mile long canal that’s 79 ft. deep and 250 feet wide is no mean feat—especially not if you were doing it 150 years ago. (A tip of the hat to Jim from Sarasota who gave me all these facts and figures!)

I can't say I've been to Egypt, but I have sailed through it!

It takes about 12 hours to transit the canal, so we started the morning sipping our room service coffee on our starboard balcony. We faced the Sinai side of the canal, so we mostly saw endless sand dunes and numerous armed guard stations. The Egyptians are serious about security because the 70 ships that transit the canal daily represent a steady stream of income. The average fee for canal passage is just under $500,000 dollars, depending on the tonnage of the vessel.

The world's largest container ship!

Josko, the supervisor of the Panorama Buffet on the PP, told me Princess pays over $300,000 for their Panama transits. He wasn’t sure about how much the Suez passage was costing. He also pointed out the mammoth Maersk container ship that was cruising in the southbound canal while we sailed north.  At over 400 meters (1300 feet) long, it’s the largest vessel of its type in the world! It was a little surreal watching that block of containers, stacked 15 or 20 high, gliding serenely between the dunes.

The canal opens up into two lakes—Little Bitter, and Great Bitter Lakes. They are twice as salty as the ocean, but that doesn’t stop invasive species of crabs and such from making the trip through the canal to try their luck in another sort of ocean.

About mid-morning, we moved up to the fantail so we could watch both sides of the canal. 

Kristi and the DH mugging for the camera by the rail while her hubby Dave and I wisely sip our iced tea in the shade. 

Our friends Kristy and Dave were already there so we joined them while the wonders drifted by. The air quality grew steadily poorer as the day went on. The Sahara is relentless and sent sand swirling in long strands of fine particulate in the upper air. It settled on us as a fine dust, coating everyone and everything and drying out our skin and eyes. (I wore my health mask, so I was breathing just fine!)

This one's for you, Dad!

I knew my dad would be interested to see that there’s a rail line on the mainland (port) side. That side of the canal seems positively verdant compared to the endless shades of beige to starboard. As Dr. Pamela Peck, our enrichment lecturer says, “No water. No life.”

But that doesn’t stop the Egyptians from expanding over onto the Sinai Peninsula. There are three under- the-canal tunnels to send fresh water and power across. We saw a couple of floating bridges to connect the peninsula to the mainland at intervals and they’ve built a new city called New Ismailia near the northern mouth of the canal.

Other countries have invested in the canal over the years—France, Great Britain, and most recently, Japan. It was fitting that I snapped this pic of Craig and Vicki with the new Japanese Egyptian Friendship Bridge in the background. We’ve made some wonderful new friends on this trip, and sadly, we’ll be saying goodbye to Vicki and Craig in Venice.

I don’t like to think about it.

Day 61~ Sea Day in the Med

March 24, 2018

The passage through the Suez was hot and dusty. The sun sizzled down at us from a cloudless blue sky. But once we cleared the northern mouth of the canal and entered the Mediterranean, we hit a bank of fog and swelling seas. The PP and another ship traded blasts of their horns in the darkening pea-soup. We couldn’t see the other ship, but I’m sure our bridge crew was tracking them electronically.

The temperature plummeted from the 90’s to the 60’s. It was abrupt and striking. We’d been lulled into complaisance by the mirror-like stillness of the Gulf of Suez and the smooth sailing we’ve enjoyed for the last month.  I put on a scopolamine patch for the first time since we left Esperance, Australia.

The Pacific Princess is that skinny black hexagon with her nose pointed toward the two stars (Santorini and Crete)

Today, we’re wallowing through heavy swells on our way to the Grecian isle of Santorini, (the more northerly of the two stars on the map.) It’s 4 PM as I type this and because of the movement, I’ve struggled to get to my goal of 5000 steps. The ship is pitching so, my step counter thinks I’ve climbed 22 flights of stairs! (Even on a good day, I wouldn’t do that!) It’s no fun to walk like a drunkard when you’re a teetotaler.

The outside decks have been closed because of the wind and wet. Everyone is moving with determined deliberation, grasping handrails and steadying themselves with a hand on the walls. A fall will ruin your whole day.   

Tomorrow in Santorini, the high is supposed to be in the low 60’s with possible rain. We’ll gear up before we tender in for our day in the town of Fira.

More then…