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.