Spring Moon of the Southern Cross
South of Rio, North of Montevideo rough seas
Wrote the above yesterday looking out the lanai windows. Watching the deck go up and down. Big mistake. So, I spent yesterday in bed recovering from an indelicate moment of sightseeing.
Last night we had winds that I observed at 51 mph or 9 on the Beaufort Scale. These were the strongest winds we encountered on the whole trip. The Pacific was just that.
I’m in the showroom right now awaiting the disembarkation talk. Getting on and off cruise ships is a logistical feat of some proportions and requires co-ordination.
Kate, with her superior spatial skills, has already begun packing. She doesn’t like it, but sees it as her job. It’s fine with me. I’m delegated to attend this briefing and take notes.
The mood, buoyed by up beat light rock, has a festive spirit. Oh, boy, we’re getting off! Less than half of us have been on since New York. The tech guy has carried the obligatory laptop out and placed it on the clear plastic lectern. The showroom lights are a glitter.
We’re getting off last since we are an independent disembarkation, taking a taxi to the Tulip Plaza hotel in the Ipanema beach neighborhood of Rio. We’ll spend two nights there before getting on a plane at 10:20 pm Rio time, headed for Atlanta, then home.
I’m ready to get home, perhaps a bit more than Kate, but we both miss the dogs and our digs, especially, at this point, the space.
That’s done. We’ve been given the info and the opportunity to clap for all the staff teams. Now we can get about arranging items for our departure.
Last night the Captain declared the health protocols lifted, so we have one full day with salt and pepper on the table and the option to select our own food at the Lido cafeteria. Our table mate Jerry wondered if lifting the protocols had anything to do with clearance for our ship in Rio. Maybe so.
