Wrapping this whole thing up; the slow ride home

Most vacations end quickly and without anything remotely enjoyable happening to you. One day you’re in a spectacular city, eating novel food, and strolling through the best museums in the world. Then, within a few hours’ time, you’ve been x-rayed by TSA and shuttled home, deposited on your doorstep with severe jet lag. This trip has, in the most exquisite ways, been different. I spent 8 days coming home, via boat and train. I recommend. No jet lag. Loads of time to think about reinstalling yourself into the normal. And reading. Lots of reading. But it also felt a bit like a slow drip, in terms of attempting to blog about it all. Add to that the very poor internet situation on our ship, and time, about a week of it, has moved on without a proper ending to this trip of all trips. Here’s what I have in terms of a recap:

We continued to dine with our Mormon tablemates through the week. And each day, during conversations about families, travel and faith, we became friends. Brent, one of our new friends, brought a very expensive camera with him and with it, he took pictures of all of us, in sets, as a group, and individually. They’re better than the ones we purchased from the official photographer on the ship. Also, I told them about what it’s like to raise a transgender kid. I wanted to be my real self with them and also, it felt like our table was an opportunity to discuss issues that are typically avoided in the society that is polite. It’s funny. I was thoroughly disappointed when we discovered that our tablemates would be people with a strong faith that I could not understand. And I also assumed that the conversation would be boring. But these folks, who have traveled the world and have engaged with communities on a level I could never achieve, were revelatory. Instead of disapproval or judgment, I was surprised to receive support and encouragement from our Mormon friends after talking about my family. And I think they learned, in a way not possible without trust and friendship, about a topic that they don’t understand. So that happened. And it was really quite beautiful. Maybe there should be mandatory cruise ship trips for folks who come from different ideologies. 

Also we celebrated the Queen’s jubilee. The QM2 is a British ship and that was very clear during this voyage home. All things queen were being celebrated, sold, and showcased. In our stateroom, we enjoyed the festivities, particularly enjoying the royal concert. At the cafeteria we ate little sugared pictures of the Queen, and at dinner, the full 1952 coronation menu was replicated (of which I did not partake - ew). I did particularly enjoy the ice sculptures of the Queen, melting all down the displays of jubilee joy. 

After the boat (okay, Mom, – ship) we trained across the country to our respective homes. Highlights of this experience were, well, none. Our train from New York to Chicago, overnight and overheated, was a bit of misery. Also, who makes a Thai curry noodle dish that includes vegetarian meatballs? Very confusing. Our train door connecting to the next room, banged violently during the bumpy ride, so much so that we stuffed rolled up washcloths in three places to brace it enough for us to sleep. And our train conductor was a bit challenging. She struggled with simple tasks such as taking an order for the continental breakfast, which included all things continental. And she was confused about what, exactly, we were ordering. It was a 10 minute conversation about oatmeal and pastries. I was grouchy from lack of sleep and banging noises. In both New York and Chicago, we spent layover time in the Amtrak lounges, where the food is free and the couches are upholstered. New York won by a mile in terms of atmosphere and dining, but Chicago did have bleeding control kits available in case of a mass shooting, so I’d call it even. 

I arrived home late Monday night. George and Camilla (the lovely and talented service dog) met me at the station. Too kind! We stayed up late comparing stories of the past six weeks and petting love hungry cats. So, now it’s over. We’ve been calling this journey the trip of a lifetime. And it was. From fancy ship life, to happy surprises (um festival?), to the wows (so many wows! How does that beach slant upwards!), to being trapped in homes and cars, to new friends and old friends, and to a mom and daughter adventure to beat all adventures, we really LIVED these past weeks. It’s my favorite, travel. I’m always living right there in the present, and that’s a rare commodity. Now we have all of these memories to keep us sated until the next time. Next time. What will that look like? I dunno, but we WILL be back. Thank you so much for traveling with us.

Cough drop jail and weathering the storm

 Well, the internet situation is frightful. It's a miracle this post is happening (should it happen, which is not guaranteed). There was an interesting event that happened to one of the Mormon couples since last I was able to post. They bought some cough drops from the onboard store and several hours later they received a call from the medical team asking if someone in their cabin felt ill. Apparently, the purchase of cough drops triggers some kind of protocol that this couple was now ensared in. One of them had a little cough, hence the cough drops. So in response they were visited by a team in full PPE for Covid tests, which were negative. Still, the couple was quarantined for 24 hours. I'm absolutely glad that Cunard is taking the pandemic seriously but also I find it creepy that there are items on the ship that, when purchased, trigger the medical team. I dunno. Big Brother Cough Drops (newly tradmarked by me and coming to a store near you soon - beware of what you buy). 

We've been attending lectures and shows and reading a bunch over the last two days. It's all been nice and relaxing. We especially enjoyed reading on the sunny back deck of the ship (aft? port? - the back part). An last night we were treated to a storm at sea. There was a wobble to the ship for sure and our dinner view was not the usual blue ocean but instead a whirl of mist and unsettled ocean. I enjoyed it. Mom's stomach did not, but her sea sick pills did the trick. Know what other trick they did? Made her very tired so she managed to get through half of our Poirot episode before she was out for the night. I enjoyed the storm in the dark of our cabin, rocking back and forth as I tried, unsuccessfully, to write this blog post. Really, readers aren't missing much. We are doing bland things and are quite happy about it. I wouldn't want to bore anyone with stories of long stretches of reading followed by walking to another part of the ship for more of the same. Just think of us floating our way home, tired and sometimes cranky (me) and sometimes with upset tummy (Mom) and reading and walking around and getting our bath towels changed twice daily (???!!!). Mints on pillows happen. And dinner with Mormons where we share only the most benign information about our lives. It's actually a lot of work but the dinner is good so we do it. Also, they are nice. I've gotten to the part of the trip where I'm imagining my own bed and normal food and cats and a dog and sons around me. Floating some slowly is good.

Dining with Mormons part two and the benefits of being on pause

Ah, the pleasures of living on the ocean. There’s nowhere to go and nothing that is required of you. That temporary stasis that was so disorienting on our way over to Europe now feels like a tonic. It’s an endless ocean of peace. Today we attended a lecture about the Titanic (pretty bold, Cunard, pretty bold) whilst traveling the ocean in which it met its demise. It was highly attended. And later, we spent a good amount of time in the library. It’s really my favorite place on the ship. At lunchtime, we retreated to our cabin and watched an episode of Poirot (downloaded before the voyage of course) and had room service lunch. It’s all really so nice.

Again tonight we had dinner with the Mormons. It was a formal night, mandatory dressing up, and the theme was black and white. I wore my black suit with a white shirt and bowtie. I was worried that our tablemates would be put off by my attire but they were complimentary. I asked questions about the Mormon religion and actually learned a lot. Did you know that Momons are in to genealogy because they believe that all people must be baptized before going to heaven and they are able to “baptize by proxy” any relatives that were not given the chance to do so? Mormons believe that families are eternally linked, on earth and in heaven, so they want to keep the family unit intact through this proxy baptism practice. Pretty interesting. We also talked about missions. Young Momorns can choose to participate in a mission or not, but if they do they have no say in where they are sent. The couple with 11 children talked about how some of their kids were sent to places such as Japan or Italy, while others were sent to Baltimore or Phoenix. That’s gotta be hard for the kids with less interesting destinations. This same couple is going on a mission themselves, beginning in August. They are going to Cambodia to help with a healthcare clinic (one of them is a doctor). Mom and I asked many questions about their religion and I’m wondering if we should be transparent about our lives and invite them to ask questions. I wonder how they’d react? Perhaps if we build trust we’ll be able to discuss the challenges of existing in a world with such different beliefs in a constructive way. Maybe…

To end the evening, we attended the Cunard fantabulous showcase show. It was filled with a bunch of singing and dancing and chorus lines, and surprisingly, many songs from the movie The Greatest Showman. It was more enjoyable than I anticipated it would be and reminded me of George, who loves the Showman. To bed, with clocks set back again (we are changing time overnight like normal people this trip instead of the weird practice of skipping noon that we endured on the way over). This excess of hours is a pretty nice perk. 

Dining with Mormons and getting our sea legs back

Hello from the Atlantic, where the air is fresh, the sky is limitless,and the internet sucks. No pictures for the week will be the result. So. Onboarding this round went smoother than our last try in New York. This time we labeled Mom as disabled and it got us a wheelchair and a trip to the front of the line. Despite this, it was still a challenge. Cunard makes everything extra hard. One more line. One more piece of paper, one more surprise to-do. But we made it. And it feels just fine being back on the boat (ship - sorry Mom).

When we set up our cruise preferences about a year ago, Mom and I chose dining at a table for six. It can be fun to meet other folks and trade stories. On the way over to the UK, we had a gay couple, currently living in London but also from Minneapolis! And they were also building a home in Mom’s neck of the woods. Also, there was a nice couple from Boston. The gentleman was in his 90s and had worked in the lithium industry, As a result I know 100 times more about lithium than I did before our voyage. We were excited to find out who would be joining us for dinner coming home and shortly after we sat down, we had our answer. Two couples from Salt Lake City, traveling together, joined us. We quickly discovered that they were Morman. One has 11 children and the other 7. That’s a lot of kids. We had pleasant conversation, but there was a tension. We will live on the surface of polite company for the week and not venture anywhere close to our real selves. Except I plan to wear a tuxedo to the black and white ball tomorrow. I wonder what they’ll think of that? Maybe they are allies. Who knows.

We were tired from our day of moving and reacclimating to the ship, so dinner and a quick trip for decaf coffee was all we managed. I feel strangely at home, back in our twin beds, looking out at the sea. It’s gonna be a struggle to tly on the next trip. Travel by sea is so much more enjoyable.

Reclining across the English Channel and tipping in three currencies

We left the resort in St. Malo early. There were several hotel room freebies to bring with us but we are at the end of the trip and luggage space is at a premium. I did, however, take my brand new blue and white swim cap! Free swim cap. Now that's a perk. After some confusion about where and how to drop off our dear rental car (turns out you need a code to get into the lot and a French man, unaffiliated with the car rental place, but allegedly affiliated with the port terminal, gave me the secret code on a post-it note), we hung out at the terminal, eating possibly our last pain au chocolats of the trip. 

After rolling two suitcases uphill for three hours (or 5 minutes - seemed like forever), we settled into our room for the ferry voyage to Portsmouth, UK. Anticipating end-of-trip fatigue, Mom had booked us a bedroom for the 8 hour voyage, and boy did we take advantage of that. I lay prone for almost all of the voyage, sleeping some, watching downloaded episodes of Poirot, and enjoying all the luxuries that Brittany Ferries had to offer (we had our own bathroom!). Most passengers on the ferry brought their cars with them, so embarking we really didn't see many people, since we were walk-ons and they were drive-ons. And then when we ventured out for lunch, the place was pretty quiet, despite the fact that there was allegedly an entire menu of entertainment available. We missed it all, preferring our little room and our comfy boat beds. Oh also - I was also excited to see that Queen Elizabeth was on the ship when we boarded. She was looking rather thin. 

Disembarking was yuck due to three flights of rolling downhill with suitcases attached to my arms, but we survived. Then, it was customs time. Problem though. There were no customs agents. The place was locked, lights out, no one home. It took some time to get sorted and situated and stamped, but finally we were on our way. Our original plan was to take a taxi to the train station, take the train from Portsmouth to Southampton, and take a taxi to our hotel. But then we realized that that would be awful and stressful, especially because we had Zoom appointments to have supervised Covid tests at 9:36 (very specific). Last minute, we ordered a private transfer from the mouth of the port to the hampton of the south. This last minute change resulted in another tipping emergency. I had a total of 5 Pounds left and 3 Euros. Mom also had Dollars. The Pounds really weren’t enough for a private transfer tip. What to do? Mom and I spent a good part of the voyage ruminating about this tipping dilema, in an attempt to avoid panic tipping. Solution? I just broke the news to our driver, asking if he wanted the Pounds, Euros, or Dollars, or all of the above. He said, "a tip is a tip!," so I gave him all three. The tipping trifecta. The ultimate tipping triumph. A tip for the ages. Savvy tipping by Ali. Tips R Us. A tip to remember. 

Finally at our last hotel of the trip, called the Jury's Inn, we prepared to swab our nasal passages to prove we were free of the plague. It was a frenzied few minutes on the phone with a call center nurse, but we were certified Covid free and ready for transport. During the Covid prep we also discovered a very damp section of floor in our room right by the bathroom. A cheerful chap came up to the room and felt around on the floor. He postulated that the wet was a result of carpet cleaning earlier in the day due to a spill. Big spill, I guess. And a damp spill. We elected to ignore our damp room in lieu of moving to another one since we'd been throwing Covid testing supplies all over the place and had our jammies on. So tonight we sleep in the company of mystery dampness and we are too tired to care. 

Tomorrow, we are back on the QM2, where the food is plentiful and the internet is...not. It may result in an interruption of regularly scheduled programming.