Vancouver--The Beautiful City on the Sound

 "Hello, Buoys!" ~ Seen on a T-shirt

Last night was a wild one on the Eurodam. Along with folks like us who are going to be on the ship until Fort Lauderdale, there were hundreds who embarked in Seattle for a one night cruise to Vancouver. It was a decidedly younger crowd and the partying went on till the wee hours.

Of course, I only know this by hearsay. The DH and I skipped the show, spent a relaxing time in the thermal suite and fell asleep on the heated stone loungers. We were in bed by 9, rocked to sleep by the gentle vibrations of the Eurodam as she cruised in slow circles to her first port of call. 

Unlimited access to the thermal suite for the length of the cruise was $349 a piece. This may seem like an indulgence, and it is, but we're not drinkers and we don't gamble, so this is our big splurge on board.

We decided not to do an excursion because within easy walking distance, there was a float plane company with half a dozen planes tied up on a wharf. After earning his private pilot’s license, the DH actually took a lesson in a float plane when we lived in Seattle. That was one flight I begged off on. I don’t like the idea of landing on water, but he had fun with it.

Today it was enough to watch the landings and take-offs up close.

After watching a while, we strolled around the downtown waterfront. Vancouver is a lovely place, clean and with an interesting mix architecture.

Our photography instructor on the Viking Star told us to look for reflections. We didn't have to look far in Vancouver! 

The mural art gave a hearty nod to the Pacific Northwest's indigenous peoples and animals. I love this sort of thing just as thoroughly as I despise graffiti! This art is "meant," while graffiti makes use of stolen space and is often angry in tone.

We were back on the ship by lunchtime so we could visit the thermal suite again. It really helps with back pain and offers general relaxation.

Lovely fall colors!

I needed to relax after I read the note that was left in our stateroom. HAL is requiring us to wear masks in all venues. Unless, of course, we are eating or holding a drink. In those circumstances, the covid virus magically disappears.

Prior to boarding, HAL had relaxed its testing policy so we who are thoroughly vaxxed didn’t have to test. They allowed people who are not vaccinated to board after presenting a negative test result conducted within 2 days of embarkation. The excuse they give for laying this draconian edict on those of us who came aboard expecting cruising as we know and love it was this:

“Out of an abundance of caution, we will be requiring guests on board to wear face masks while indoors for at least the first 7 days of our voyage.”

If they had instituted this policy in Seattle, I would have been sorely tempted not to board. But obviously, HAL is so desperate to shed its stodgy, “old farts” reputation, it couldn’t muzzle the party people who were only on board for one night.

To add further insult to injury, the masks HAL is providing for us are those hateful N95 things. I cannot use them because too much CO2 collects and I need all the O2 I can get. Even the DH gets lightheaded with the DAM things. (On Holland America, DAM is a popular swear word since it’s what all their ships' names end with.)

Covid is no longer the death threat it started out to be. I tested positive for it on August 2, 2022 and negative by August 21, 2022. It was like an inconvenient head cold. Even with my serious lung issues, it was not a big deal.

I am deeply disappointed with HAL over this intrusive, nanny-like policy. When we embarked on the Viking Star last January, we knew were sailing into the Omicron outbreak and didn’t balk at wearing masks or submitting to a daily covid test. We knew the rules from the start.

By contrast, HAL had been lowering its testing requirements. There was nothing on their website that warned us we’d be forced to wear masks on board. Someone at HAL is throwing his/her weight around when the covid crisis is virtually over. It’s an endemic bug we’re learning to live with, like the flu. There’s no need to disrupt our mode of life, to shut off communication, to make us afraid of each other, to cause us to lose brain cells because we are constantly re-breathing old oxygen-depleted air.  Mask-wearing sucks all the joy out of this cruising experience because it’s so arbitrary and unnecessary.

We have over 100 days afloat with this cruise line, but this may well be our last voyage with Holland America.