Day 91~ A Change of Itinerary

 April 10th, 2022 Palm Sunday

Low 60's. Noticeably cooler. The Med is placid, but we have such a short distance to go to our next port, the captain has to keep our speed to a crawl. That means the Star spends a lot of time jiggling in the water like a belly dancer! Give me great swells. I'd much rather ride the nose of a dolphin. These little wobbles and wallowing play havoc with my inner ear! 

"A bend in the road is not the end of the road...unless you fail to make the turn." – Helen Keller

We were supposed to have a day at Alexandria, Egypt, but the officials at Ashdod, Israel won't accept Viking's PCR results. (Yes, we are still offering up a vial of spit every morning. I wonder sometimes if once we get home, I'll still start salivating at the sound of the alarm!) So we skipped Alexandria so we could slither across the southeast corner of the Mediterranean and then hold station in Ashdod's outer harbor. Israeli technicians came aboard to administer their own tests, both saliva and nose swab, to the entire ship's company. If all goes well, we're off to Jerusalem and Bethlehem tomorrow. 

I don't fault the Israelis. Every sovereign nation has the right, and the duty, to regulate their own borders and control who enters. Which is why it bothers me that we do such a poor job of this in the States. There's no need to be apologetic about it. If someone wants to come into a country, they have to follow the rules about how to enter. It's the only respectful way to go about it. 

This gives us an unexpected sea day, which we can certainly use to rest up and I'd like to share something funny that happened at Table 137, our regular hangout in The Restaurant. We were eating with Kristy and Dave as usual and Kristy had been given a very small spoon for her deep red fruit appetizer. She was afraid of dripping some of that juice on her blouse because it would surely stain. She noticed that David had a big soup spoon in his deep bowl. She helped herself to it and finished up her dish. Then Dave took his spoon back and finished his soup. 

Kristy was appalled! She was sure he was done with that spoon. His bowl was so deep, from her angle she couldn't see he still had more soup left. And he never offered murmur of resistance when she borrowed his spoon. She needed it, so who was he to argue? We all had a good laugh over it, and figured that was that. 

How'd that fork get in there?

Then the next day I was seated next to Kristy and noticed that my spoon might conceivably be in danger, so I moved it to the other side of my plate. Pretty soon, we were all being protective of our spoons. Even Aswi, our fun-loving waiter, got into the act, bringing Kristy extra spoons so she wouldn't be tempted to help herself to those belonging to others.

Kristy has decided she needs to be buried with a spoon because something better is coming. Desserts in heaven are bound to be even better than those on the Viking Star, and she wants to be prepared! 

I recognize this is the sort of thing where you had to be there, but we've had a lot of fun with the Saga of the Slightly-Stolen Spoon!