Early morning waking - to the voice on the intercom outside the balcony - as we get ready to head up to Glacier Point. We have acquired some Forest Rangers on the boat - and our narrator over the ship's loudspeaker is a drawling Texan. He gives us the history of this area - ice melting, etc. I have my breakfast on the balcony that has been delivered by room service. And my cappuccino that has been delivered by Brian. I am bundled in a variety of strange looking warm weather gear. Brian is in shorts. We call the kids' room (several times) to wake them up. I insist that they get up, even though they all want to sleep in. They can nap later, I say - they can only see this part of the world once (well, only once that I'll pay for...) Ed and Julia come to the room - none too happy - Ed dressed only in a Tshirt. We bundle him in Brian's sweater. The ranger advises everyone to "get on top" ("excellent advice" - Brian) as we approach the tidal glacier. We are starboard side, so we have to get on top to see the glacier as the ship approaches. The ship will then turn on a dime and we can head back to our stateroom for unobstructed views. We head up (grabbing a box of fruit loops for the kids to eat) and join our many fellow passengers to see the big hunk of ice. 22 miles long, receding 8 feet per day, we get a chance to hear it calving and drop chunks of ice into the water. We see a few seals, one hanging out on a chunk of ice, and many birds. Colin joins us as the boat is turning and we head back to the stateroom to watch the ice. I call Aidan and demand he join us for the forced family fun. He is dressed in a Tshirt and shorts. After 5 minutes of ice watching, Aidan is done.
The kids are exhausted because we've let them all stay up late the night before. Ed wanted to try the midnight buffet. We convinced him that the 10:45 buffet was actually the same thing.
We hit another lunch and Colin and I go to the 1:30 nature talk by one of Park Rangers. It's pretty interesting: glaciers, wildlife, ecosystems and all. I head back to the room as there is supposed to be prime whale watching as we head into Icy Strait. We hit the jackpot and get to see many whales and even a pod off in the distance. The kids (sans Colin, who is up on deck watching the whales - god bless him) are in their room probably watching TV ("leave them alone, they're on vacation. And they're not bugging *us*" - Brian) I yell loudly over the phone to Look. Out. Your. Window. NOW! and as I gently encourage my children (for the nth time today) to appreciate where the f*ck we are, a seal swims by right next to us. I see him - and it's super cool. I can't help but wonder what these animals think of the huge ships moving along their waterway. Maybe that we're just a funky looking hunk of ice.
Aidan, Edwin, and Julia are playing a trivia game (and they do pretty well!) in the lounge just before the ballroom dancing seminar starts. We have missed the Merengue and the Cha Cha but have made it today for the Waltz! Brian and I start together, but end up switching parters. I take on a very reluctant Aidan and Brian grabs a game Julia. Ed opts to fall asleep on a neighboring lounge chair. Toby, one the cruise director staff (Fabulously British, darling) leads us through his lesson and Brian and I re-learn some waltz steps while Aidan and Julia get a starter prep course. We all manage to learn together and make it through the basics, but at the end, Brian and I get to dance together as Aidan really has had enough. At one point, the group splits in two and we are able to practice in the back of the room. While taking some video of Brian and Julia, I need to step around a slightly quarreling older British couple who are trying to master the steps also. As I try and step around them, she turns to me with a smile and says sweetly, "Don't mind us, we're just having a bit of a domestic." [How Fantastic is that phrase?????? I will be adding it to my repertoire.]
Julia and I join Sarah and Maria for tea and sit next to some very nice people again. One women from Seattle, when hearing of the Dulac's plan to drive around the Olympic peninsula and take the ferries to Vancouver exclaims, "Oh, no, you don't want to do THAT! That will take far too long, and you'll waste all your time in Seattle. Look out the window right now, and you'll see exactly what you'd see on the peninsula." I shake my head in agreement. What Maria doesn't share, is that one of the prime reasons to drive the peninsula is to visit Forks and Port Angeles. Some of you will understand what that means. Yes, possible vampire sightings.
During dinner (Italian themed maybe?) the boat starts to rock and pitch more than it has on any other day thus far. It makes eating a bit interesting and uncomfortable. The evening is capped off by sending all of our children to bed as we need to wake early tomorrow for our zipline adventure. They are not happy about retiring "early." Happy to retire early, Maria and Steve head off to bed and we go with their kids to the Crew Talent Show in the big theater. It's a rockin' fun evening (literally) complete with festive balloons rocketing around the room and dancing to YMCA. The show is humorous - Sarah and I appreciate the skits that leave the beautiful Italian crewman half nekkid.
Thankfully, at some time during the show, the boat has stopped rocking so violently. Off to slumber land..
Friday, July 8, 2011
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Striking gold in Skagway
With no plan for the day, we do the continental breakfast routine in the room again and leisurely get ready to disembark. I believe I have purchased the Skagway disembarkation photo that the cruise line makes you wait to pose for before you can leave the ship. A double bonus chance to make another $20 and slow the disembarkation line down to avoid stampede. [And slow means slow - see old people comment from few blogs back.] I think the picture has a moose in it. As in a crew member dressed as a moose. Brian looks thrilled for yet another photo opportunity.
The cruise dock is a nice walk along the seawall from "downtown" Skagway. Without an excursion already planned, we check into pricing of activity options at the "excursion" hut. Mysteriously, the prices are about the same as on the ship. Hmmm... these people are no dummies. Edwin's age and size excludes us from most of the fun activities - biking, rafting, kayaking. The train ride (the popular option for most people) is 3 hours. At over $100 a piece, we're not sure the train ride is right for our kids - they'd probably all sleep through it. And that's an expensive nap. It has started to drizzle and the wind is picking up, so we opt to stay in town and check out Skagway. Four cruise ships have docked in this little town (population 800) so the raised wooden sidewalks are PACKED.
This town is super quaint, and has a distinct amusement park feel. Complete with "panning for gold" option. Like Knott's Berry Farm. Pay your $20, and real gold is guaranteed! Aidan, Julia and Edwin elect to try their luck at mining. Colin declines and proceeds to read about the history of Skagway from a free newspaper we've picked up from the Visitor's Center. The three kids get their (plastic) mining pans. Curiously, they already have some silt in them before the shopkeep even gets to the trough to demonstrate the proper mining technique. Aidan and I figure out later that the gold flecks that the kids find were put in the pans to begin with, then covered with some dirt. All the panning for the next hour was just basically playing in the water, as there was no gold in the trough. But they were entertained for a while, and took home real gold. Ed certainly scored on this trip! All of this was done in the rain, while the rest of us watched for awhile and toured the shop surroundings (outdoors, with a variety of planters recycled from bathroom fixtures.) I leave for a bit to find good coffee - on a tip from a dock worker back in Seattle - but end up with some bad coffee instead. I will not be successful finding good coffee in Alaska.
On my coffee expedition, I notice tours being given at the Red Onion Saloon. Going for "Mom of the Year," I decide to take Colin on the tour of the former brothel. We leave the minor miners, and make our way down the boardwalk into the crowded saloon. We must wait for 15 minutes until the tour starts, so we take in some of the local color. And by local color, I mean the waitresses in push-up corsets. (What?? I can appreciate a good looking waitress too.) Tours cost $5 a piece and last 15 minutes. Just like it did in 1898. Very authentic this is. I take Colin's picture with the Madame/tour guide. She packs more into 15 minutes than any other docent I've ever had the pleasure to meet. She's both eloquent *and* voluptuous. I was extremely impressed. Some of what we learned: the Red Onion was one of 60 establishments in Skagway's heyday; 15,000 men and 300 women "worked" in Skagway; girls worked from 6pm to 6am, 7 days a week; the girls got $1.25 for each job - the bouncer got $1.25 and the madame got $2.50; the 2nd floor rooms were not insulated and were used year round (our June 28th day was a warm 55 degrees and rainy...); the gold collected for payment was dropped down a hole in the floor, through copper piping and deposited into the safe behind the bar; the Red Onion is haunted by the ghost of Adele, who committed suicide after being branded on her face (to prevent her from working at another establishment) for contracting syphilis; Diamond Lil worked at this establishment and was quite a wealthy woman in her day. There were 2 couples, Colin and myself and a small group of old men on this brothel tour. We were allowed to tip the tour guide in her decolletage: I opted out and just handed it to her with a smile. After I took a picture of 16 year old Colin half lying/sitting across the original madame's bed looking very uncomfortable. Yep, sounds about right. Mom of the Year!!! Woo hoo!!!
Finding the rest of our group - Aidan was pretty bummed to miss out on the tour... - we did a bit more shopping (which hardly seemed possible given the amount of shopping done in Juneau) and Aidan found the hat he'd been searching for, Julia the sweatshirt she's worn every day for the last week (and it smells like it too..) and I found the "Sarah Palin Store." Not kidding. I guess Skagway was Ms. Palin's childhood town. I managed to keep a partially smirk-free face the whole time while purchasing momentous to take home to my father.
And now we're hungry. And wet. And some of us are cold (me). All-we-can eat food is just a mile away back on the ship - which we choose to do rather than fight the hordes of trinket buyers and cruisers in town. The little two kids and the tired parents pay for the shuttle back to the ship. The big boys are made to walk. (Seriously, it's only a mile. If that.) We grab lunch on the ship and then Julia and I head to the indoor pool. I'm supposed to swim with her, like I've promised, but all I can seem to do is take a wee nap on the lounge chair. I try and make it up to her by going to the formal dining room for afternoon tea (I got in the mood for tea at the Palin store...) We are joined by 2 couples - one from Arizona and one from Northern Ireland. It's a lovely tea - but Julia would enjoy it more, she says, if Maria and Sarah were with us. So we plan to ask them to come tomorrow.
To recap: breakfast, lunch, tea, and now it's time for dinner! Because it's vacation! As we have the second seating in the formal dining room, we miss out on some of the evening shows - or at least miss getting to see them with the kids, as a 10:30 show is a bit late for the younger two. (Nothing is too late for Aidan. Too early? Yes. But not too late). So we make the decision to eat early in a different dining room and try and catch the Magic Show at 8:15. The kids decide to eat at the buffet and we are treated to a meal with a honeymooning couple from Georgia. She's stunning - like a Real Housewife, but younger. He's loaded. [$wise, well maybe the other too as he's drinking dirty martinis with dinner. Not wine. Dirty martinis. With food.] I get her talking about her wedding, and she happily retells all the details. It sounded wonderful ("A hell of a mess to clean up for 3 days after," mutters the new husband through the martini.) She wanted to go someplace warm for the honeymoon, like Tahiti. He suggested Alaska. She is less than thrilled. He is paying for every possible expensive excursion to make up for it. Dinner runs long and we catch the very last magic trick of the show. The kids have seen the whole thing, and liked it. We meet up with the Dulacs at the end of their formal dinner, and they've had a great day in the Yukon with their rental car. Ask Maria about the Klondike bars. It's fun.
Juneau, you know? You bet'cha!
BEST MORNING EVER!!! What is better than waking up (slightly head-coldy sick, but feeling a bit better, thanks) to the view of Alaska outside your balcony window? Waking up and finding out you've GAINED AN HOUR during your sleep as you've marvelously sailed into another time zone. My favorite day of the year (setting back your clocks) coupled with a spectacular view! Like Christmas in June.
After a tip from Maria, I clue into another greatness of having a balcony room: continental breakfast delivered to your room and eating breakfast outside with the Alaskan coastline in front of you. During breakfast, and our slow (and quiet!) approach toward the port, we start to notice the icebergs floating around us. To the untrained eye they look like small, light blue boats (ahem...Brian.) To those of us who know things, we know they are huge chunks of ice floating in the frigid waters. And yes, images of "Titanic" come to you (but not *too* graphically, as you have never seen the whole movie. The only person who hasn't, I'm sure.) I am convinced, however, that the coast guard boats we are passing have something to do with the blue nature of the ice. I do not believe for one second that it is a natural occurring color (According to Amy Tam, they are "Windex blue". And she's exactly right.) in nature for icebergs. Even after everyone - including park rangers - have instructed us that it's compacted ice/water molecules that can't process or refract (or some weird science term) the blue, which give them their distinct color. Whatever. I still contend that someone goes out there and throws blue paint on them to keep boats from running into them. (Titanic, anyone? anyone?) What? It could happen.
The fantastic morning continues after breakfast - Brian has booked us a couple's massage at the Lotus Spa on board. We pop for the hot stone option, and are treated to an hour of relaxation bliss. I get the cheerful gal from South Africa who tries mightily to remove the knots from my shoulders ("where I carry my stress") to very little end. Brian has the firm handed Polish gal, who has a strong handshake (and I'm grateful I have the soft handed South African) until Brian discovers that there isn't much strength behind the firm grip. Since he's on vacation, he's already suitably relaxed, no real knots to work out for him! [Is it wrong that I can't remember the name of the woman who spent an hour rubbing me with hot oil? Yeah, I thought so too...] Once we've been oiled up and rubbed down, the hard sell begins: we can purchase all of products used on us today! for one inflated price! or separate inflated prices!
After the relaxation, we gather the kids, prepare for our first dose of Alaska, dress in layers (as recommended by the 'Princess Patter' - ship's daily newsletter) eat a buffet lunch, meet up with the Dulacs and head off the ship around noon. We take some advice and hunt down a shuttle bus to Mendenhall Glacier, about a 20 minute drive from "downtown" Juneau. If you've been to Frontierland at Disneyland, then you've been to downtown Alaska (maybe not Anchorage. I haven't done that place.) Take Frontierland at Disneyland, add the whorehouse history, and you have Juneau...AND Skagway... Ketchikan and Seattle too, for that matter.... The shuttle bus has a local driver who is also a native Alaskan (in the truest sense of the word) and does artwork in the offseason. He narrates (with a delivery that rivals the receptionist of Joel Fleishman) our way through Juneau - pointing out the governor's mansion, among other things, and then adding "Well, then I guess you can all see Russia from here too." We all laughed. And that, my friends, was the one and only anti-Palin instance of the whole week. Judging from the paraphernalia in the (too numerous to even try to count) gift shops, the tour guide speeches, and any other advertisements or such, the state seems generally proud of it's hometown girl. Or they're just very tight lipped about the whole thing. Like keeping your crazy aunt in the attic.
At the shuttle drop-off point we see a very large and dirty piece of ice - it's magnitude somewhat hidden by our position. After contemplating the various hike options, we decide to break into two groups: "the hikers" and "the pseudo-hikers". Guess which group I choose? As the "real" hike is about 3 miles, I make the executive veto decision not to allow Ed to join in. Brian does some eye rolls, Edwin looks crestfallen, but I hold firm. The hiking group takes off and Maria, Edwin and I head down to the water's edge before we start our walk to Nugget Falls. Ed is immediately interested in the rocks and starts trying to skip them into the water. Maria, trying to cheer a sad Ed up, challenges him to a rock skipping contest. She manages to miss the water completely on her first throw - instead hitting Edwin in the leg. They both crack up and then start the contest. Ed wins. We find some mostly melted ice at the edge of the water, and we revel in the fact that we are holding a piece of iceberg. Pretty cool. The walk then takes us down a path and to the waterfall. It's pretty spectacular. And warmer outside than any of us would have ever guessed it could be. At times, it feels almost hot. Hot. Standing next to a glacier. In Alaska. Crazy!
At the falls, Ed is much more interested in gathering rocks than witnessing the awesomeness of nature. When he excitedly calls me over to a bigger boulder, I haul my quickly-expanding, cruise-buffet backside over to him as lickety-split fast as I can. He points to a line of sandstone in the big rock and proclaims that it's gold. Hmmm. Not one to be a TOTAL buzzkill, I agree that it could be. He then proceeds to look for any small pieces of rock that shimmer with gold flecks. He finds several and pockets them - certain that he's just made a cool million. Or maybe just thousands. It changes by the second. Who am I to argue with 8 year old logic? I let him pocket the rocks - even though it's a national park. I just tell him not to take them out and show anyone. It's at this point in our "hike" that Ed agrees that it was a good idea to stay with the moms. We wonder how the rest of the hikers are doing on their 3+ miles, as our 45 minute walk is turning into an hour and a half.
Back at the visitors center - which I swear is swaying, thanks to my inner ear cold issues and the sea legs combined - we check out the displays and ranger talks. No one will use the term "global warming" to describe the cause of the retreat of the glacier. They will use the term "global climate change" as if that's any different. The scientist in the film being shown every 20 minutes (a chance to sit down! hooray!) WILL use the term "global warming." Hmmm. Methinks I will believe the scientist and not the 22 year old National Parks employee from North Carolina who has been here for 3 weeks.
We decide to head back into town - catching a very crowded shuttle bus. We do get to see an extremely unique sight (even though we have to duck our heads to see it as the shuttle is so crowded that we are standing in the aisles.) There, in the distance is an ice field (name escapes me.) In the foreground? Walmart. Seriously. Amazing feat of nature upstaged by amazing feat of capitalism. I would have LOVED to stop at that Walmart. If it had been closer to the ship, I would have totally gone in. In fact, I contemplated bypassing the glacier and going on the Walmart/Costco excursion that was offered on the docks. I have no shame in admitting that. Walmart and Costco are my world as a suburban mom. I have a professional interest in what products are sold in these stores - and I'm sure it would have been fascinating. Completely anthropological and very appealing to me. This time the glacier (and finding gold!) won out. Next time? Walmart.
Back in Juneau, I promise Ed a hot chocolate. After standing in line at the Red Dog Saloon we decide that what we really want is just a coffee shop. Ditching the saloon, we find a coffee shop with fairly decent coffee and hot chocolate with sprinkles and sketchy wifi. Maria can barely log on with her phone - no luck with the laptop she's been carting around all day. Her oldest son is taking a summer school course in college and needs Internet access to receive/send assignments. As he's on the "hike" - we're trying to find decent access in Juneau so that when he's done, he can check in. (Internet access on the ship costs more than my first car did.) I had taken Colin's ipod from him before his hike started - thinking I would need something to distract Ed with. (Thank you, Colin.) Ed happily sat in the shop for almost an hour listening and bopping his head to the Black Eyed Peas. (Thank you, Will.I.Am) We finally gave up on trying to get connected (to the real world!!!) and headed back toward the ship - stopping at one gift shop. Amazingly, Ed picked out one souvenir. One. Total. After I said he could pick one. One. (People with children are shaking their heads in amazement at this right now.) God bless him. And then we found some gold leaf in a vial that we bought for him, so that he could have some real gold. Or in his mind, add it to his collection from the hike.
Back at the ship, I signed Ed into jail - aka kids' club - so I could have an hour of peace and quiet to take a shower and rest. Ed, Maria and I went to the formal dinner. (We had second seating at 8:15.) The last we had heard of the "hikers" - they had done their 3 miles, then did the Nugget Falls hike that Ed, Maria and I did - and caught one of the last shuttles back to Juneau where they checked out the Red Dog Saloon. Brian and Steve had beers at the Saloon and sent all the kids to the coffee shop to try the internet and see if Paul could get his classwork downloaded. Yeah. The dads did some great parenting. I'm helping my kid sneak gold out of a National Park and Brian sends the other 3 to roam the streets of Juneau while he sips a beer in a former whorehouse. So when we make it to dinner on the ship, we really don't know who, if any of them, will be joining us. Our waiter, Mario likes to call Ed "Boss" and as Ed's the only male there for a while, he enjoys the title tonight.
The hikers drift in to the dining room in small groups. It seems that after all the Red Dog Salooning and Coffee Shop interneting, they all felt the need to hit every souvenir shop between the Saloon and the ship. And I couldn't even guess at the number of shops that would be. And Brian thought that the formal pictures were torture? Yeah. Shopping was worse.
So another great dinner. Maybe fish. Probably fish. I ate a lot of fish. Two bottles of wine (not ones that we brought on either. With a $15 corkage fee, the wines on the ship turn out to be about the same cost as the ones we brought on.) And then to bed. Early again.
After a tip from Maria, I clue into another greatness of having a balcony room: continental breakfast delivered to your room and eating breakfast outside with the Alaskan coastline in front of you. During breakfast, and our slow (and quiet!) approach toward the port, we start to notice the icebergs floating around us. To the untrained eye they look like small, light blue boats (ahem...Brian.) To those of us who know things, we know they are huge chunks of ice floating in the frigid waters. And yes, images of "Titanic" come to you (but not *too* graphically, as you have never seen the whole movie. The only person who hasn't, I'm sure.) I am convinced, however, that the coast guard boats we are passing have something to do with the blue nature of the ice. I do not believe for one second that it is a natural occurring color (According to Amy Tam, they are "Windex blue". And she's exactly right.) in nature for icebergs. Even after everyone - including park rangers - have instructed us that it's compacted ice/water molecules that can't process or refract (or some weird science term) the blue, which give them their distinct color. Whatever. I still contend that someone goes out there and throws blue paint on them to keep boats from running into them. (Titanic, anyone? anyone?) What? It could happen.
The fantastic morning continues after breakfast - Brian has booked us a couple's massage at the Lotus Spa on board. We pop for the hot stone option, and are treated to an hour of relaxation bliss. I get the cheerful gal from South Africa who tries mightily to remove the knots from my shoulders ("where I carry my stress") to very little end. Brian has the firm handed Polish gal, who has a strong handshake (and I'm grateful I have the soft handed South African) until Brian discovers that there isn't much strength behind the firm grip. Since he's on vacation, he's already suitably relaxed, no real knots to work out for him! [Is it wrong that I can't remember the name of the woman who spent an hour rubbing me with hot oil? Yeah, I thought so too...] Once we've been oiled up and rubbed down, the hard sell begins: we can purchase all of products used on us today! for one inflated price! or separate inflated prices!
After the relaxation, we gather the kids, prepare for our first dose of Alaska, dress in layers (as recommended by the 'Princess Patter' - ship's daily newsletter) eat a buffet lunch, meet up with the Dulacs and head off the ship around noon. We take some advice and hunt down a shuttle bus to Mendenhall Glacier, about a 20 minute drive from "downtown" Juneau. If you've been to Frontierland at Disneyland, then you've been to downtown Alaska (maybe not Anchorage. I haven't done that place.) Take Frontierland at Disneyland, add the whorehouse history, and you have Juneau...AND Skagway... Ketchikan and Seattle too, for that matter.... The shuttle bus has a local driver who is also a native Alaskan (in the truest sense of the word) and does artwork in the offseason. He narrates (with a delivery that rivals the receptionist of Joel Fleishman) our way through Juneau - pointing out the governor's mansion, among other things, and then adding "Well, then I guess you can all see Russia from here too." We all laughed. And that, my friends, was the one and only anti-Palin instance of the whole week. Judging from the paraphernalia in the (too numerous to even try to count) gift shops, the tour guide speeches, and any other advertisements or such, the state seems generally proud of it's hometown girl. Or they're just very tight lipped about the whole thing. Like keeping your crazy aunt in the attic.
At the shuttle drop-off point we see a very large and dirty piece of ice - it's magnitude somewhat hidden by our position. After contemplating the various hike options, we decide to break into two groups: "the hikers" and "the pseudo-hikers". Guess which group I choose? As the "real" hike is about 3 miles, I make the executive veto decision not to allow Ed to join in. Brian does some eye rolls, Edwin looks crestfallen, but I hold firm. The hiking group takes off and Maria, Edwin and I head down to the water's edge before we start our walk to Nugget Falls. Ed is immediately interested in the rocks and starts trying to skip them into the water. Maria, trying to cheer a sad Ed up, challenges him to a rock skipping contest. She manages to miss the water completely on her first throw - instead hitting Edwin in the leg. They both crack up and then start the contest. Ed wins. We find some mostly melted ice at the edge of the water, and we revel in the fact that we are holding a piece of iceberg. Pretty cool. The walk then takes us down a path and to the waterfall. It's pretty spectacular. And warmer outside than any of us would have ever guessed it could be. At times, it feels almost hot. Hot. Standing next to a glacier. In Alaska. Crazy!
At the falls, Ed is much more interested in gathering rocks than witnessing the awesomeness of nature. When he excitedly calls me over to a bigger boulder, I haul my quickly-expanding, cruise-buffet backside over to him as lickety-split fast as I can. He points to a line of sandstone in the big rock and proclaims that it's gold. Hmmm. Not one to be a TOTAL buzzkill, I agree that it could be. He then proceeds to look for any small pieces of rock that shimmer with gold flecks. He finds several and pockets them - certain that he's just made a cool million. Or maybe just thousands. It changes by the second. Who am I to argue with 8 year old logic? I let him pocket the rocks - even though it's a national park. I just tell him not to take them out and show anyone. It's at this point in our "hike" that Ed agrees that it was a good idea to stay with the moms. We wonder how the rest of the hikers are doing on their 3+ miles, as our 45 minute walk is turning into an hour and a half.
Back at the visitors center - which I swear is swaying, thanks to my inner ear cold issues and the sea legs combined - we check out the displays and ranger talks. No one will use the term "global warming" to describe the cause of the retreat of the glacier. They will use the term "global climate change" as if that's any different. The scientist in the film being shown every 20 minutes (a chance to sit down! hooray!) WILL use the term "global warming." Hmmm. Methinks I will believe the scientist and not the 22 year old National Parks employee from North Carolina who has been here for 3 weeks.
We decide to head back into town - catching a very crowded shuttle bus. We do get to see an extremely unique sight (even though we have to duck our heads to see it as the shuttle is so crowded that we are standing in the aisles.) There, in the distance is an ice field (name escapes me.) In the foreground? Walmart. Seriously. Amazing feat of nature upstaged by amazing feat of capitalism. I would have LOVED to stop at that Walmart. If it had been closer to the ship, I would have totally gone in. In fact, I contemplated bypassing the glacier and going on the Walmart/Costco excursion that was offered on the docks. I have no shame in admitting that. Walmart and Costco are my world as a suburban mom. I have a professional interest in what products are sold in these stores - and I'm sure it would have been fascinating. Completely anthropological and very appealing to me. This time the glacier (and finding gold!) won out. Next time? Walmart.
Back in Juneau, I promise Ed a hot chocolate. After standing in line at the Red Dog Saloon we decide that what we really want is just a coffee shop. Ditching the saloon, we find a coffee shop with fairly decent coffee and hot chocolate with sprinkles and sketchy wifi. Maria can barely log on with her phone - no luck with the laptop she's been carting around all day. Her oldest son is taking a summer school course in college and needs Internet access to receive/send assignments. As he's on the "hike" - we're trying to find decent access in Juneau so that when he's done, he can check in. (Internet access on the ship costs more than my first car did.) I had taken Colin's ipod from him before his hike started - thinking I would need something to distract Ed with. (Thank you, Colin.) Ed happily sat in the shop for almost an hour listening and bopping his head to the Black Eyed Peas. (Thank you, Will.I.Am) We finally gave up on trying to get connected (to the real world!!!) and headed back toward the ship - stopping at one gift shop. Amazingly, Ed picked out one souvenir. One. Total. After I said he could pick one. One. (People with children are shaking their heads in amazement at this right now.) God bless him. And then we found some gold leaf in a vial that we bought for him, so that he could have some real gold. Or in his mind, add it to his collection from the hike.
Back at the ship, I signed Ed into jail - aka kids' club - so I could have an hour of peace and quiet to take a shower and rest. Ed, Maria and I went to the formal dinner. (We had second seating at 8:15.) The last we had heard of the "hikers" - they had done their 3 miles, then did the Nugget Falls hike that Ed, Maria and I did - and caught one of the last shuttles back to Juneau where they checked out the Red Dog Saloon. Brian and Steve had beers at the Saloon and sent all the kids to the coffee shop to try the internet and see if Paul could get his classwork downloaded. Yeah. The dads did some great parenting. I'm helping my kid sneak gold out of a National Park and Brian sends the other 3 to roam the streets of Juneau while he sips a beer in a former whorehouse. So when we make it to dinner on the ship, we really don't know who, if any of them, will be joining us. Our waiter, Mario likes to call Ed "Boss" and as Ed's the only male there for a while, he enjoys the title tonight.
The hikers drift in to the dining room in small groups. It seems that after all the Red Dog Salooning and Coffee Shop interneting, they all felt the need to hit every souvenir shop between the Saloon and the ship. And I couldn't even guess at the number of shops that would be. And Brian thought that the formal pictures were torture? Yeah. Shopping was worse.
So another great dinner. Maybe fish. Probably fish. I ate a lot of fish. Two bottles of wine (not ones that we brought on either. With a $15 corkage fee, the wines on the ship turn out to be about the same cost as the ones we brought on.) And then to bed. Early again.
Monday, July 4, 2011
Day 3 - Day at Sea
After a bit of a late start in the morning (head cold) I get myself turned completely around and can't find the dining room - so I go and get Aidan to show me. He has already roamed the entire ship and has figured the whole thing out the night before. He mentions his night and states he's not going back to the teen center as he was picked on. I just listen and try to be supportive and then basically tell him to suck it up, he's got 7 more days out here. Colin finds us at breakfast. There's a lot of trying to figure out where kids are: Brian thinks I'm a little nuts for wanting to know where the kids are all the time. Call it the mother in me, but I can't relax unless I know that they are relatively safe and not floating in the ocean.
The day is a lazy day at sea... swimming in the heated pools; exploring the ship; using the steam room and jacuzzi in the "adult section" While there are many kids on the ship, this cruise has definitely attracted the "mature crowd" and by that I mean the old. Lots of old people. Good luck if you get stuck walking behind one and you are in a hurry. Julia has her only good day in the kids' club when she finds a group of girls to do nails with. Ed has less success as "there's only girls, mom!" and there is only so much access to the Wii.
On the advice of Maria, we are dressed and ready for dinner a good 2 hours before - so we have time to take (and stand in line for) the formal pictures. We get to take pictures at 2 different backgrounds (I thought we'd have time for more) and sadly the only ones that turn out (without goofy faces) are the ones in front of the cruise ship backdrop - complete with bear in the background. Brian looks as if he's being literally tortured as we wait in line: pictures are not his favorite. I convince him that it's only this one night and he sort of believes me. As we wait in line for the pictures in the piazza, there is a band playing and a champagne waterfall photo op. There are appetizers circulating and free champagne, so the atmosphere is lively. Not a bad way to wait for pictures! ("Torture," comments Brian. And Colin.)
Dinner is another lovely affair. We will be the last people at the dining and this will continue through the whole cruise. We literally close down the dining room. The kids seem to enjoy the dinners as much as we do. The food is great - I can't remember all of it, nor did I photograph it. Suffice it to say, cheese was a prominent fixture in every meal. Dessert too. And the food was extra rich. And every night had some kind of chilled soup that mysteriously resembled a blended drink you'd find on a Carnival cruise. We get to know our waiters, and they are a great pair, Mario and Ricardo. Out of all the staff on the ship, we get to know them the best, and like them the most. As we sailed north, the sun stayed out later and later, and was still light out at 10 pm. Our tables were right next to the dining room windows so we were gifted with great views and natural light at every dinner.
Bedtime again for me and some of the kids. Aidan stayed up so late every night. I don't want to know how late, really. Some days, I don't know if he even went to bed... although there were days when he slept at such odd times during the day, that the kids' room never got cleaned. At one point, we kicked the kids out just so they could get the bathroom cleaned. But it's vacation. By the 3rd day on the boat, the room looks like a tornado hit the closet. Managing the clothing is not their collective strong point.
The day is a lazy day at sea... swimming in the heated pools; exploring the ship; using the steam room and jacuzzi in the "adult section" While there are many kids on the ship, this cruise has definitely attracted the "mature crowd" and by that I mean the old. Lots of old people. Good luck if you get stuck walking behind one and you are in a hurry. Julia has her only good day in the kids' club when she finds a group of girls to do nails with. Ed has less success as "there's only girls, mom!" and there is only so much access to the Wii.
On the advice of Maria, we are dressed and ready for dinner a good 2 hours before - so we have time to take (and stand in line for) the formal pictures. We get to take pictures at 2 different backgrounds (I thought we'd have time for more) and sadly the only ones that turn out (without goofy faces) are the ones in front of the cruise ship backdrop - complete with bear in the background. Brian looks as if he's being literally tortured as we wait in line: pictures are not his favorite. I convince him that it's only this one night and he sort of believes me. As we wait in line for the pictures in the piazza, there is a band playing and a champagne waterfall photo op. There are appetizers circulating and free champagne, so the atmosphere is lively. Not a bad way to wait for pictures! ("Torture," comments Brian. And Colin.)
Dinner is another lovely affair. We will be the last people at the dining and this will continue through the whole cruise. We literally close down the dining room. The kids seem to enjoy the dinners as much as we do. The food is great - I can't remember all of it, nor did I photograph it. Suffice it to say, cheese was a prominent fixture in every meal. Dessert too. And the food was extra rich. And every night had some kind of chilled soup that mysteriously resembled a blended drink you'd find on a Carnival cruise. We get to know our waiters, and they are a great pair, Mario and Ricardo. Out of all the staff on the ship, we get to know them the best, and like them the most. As we sailed north, the sun stayed out later and later, and was still light out at 10 pm. Our tables were right next to the dining room windows so we were gifted with great views and natural light at every dinner.
Bedtime again for me and some of the kids. Aidan stayed up so late every night. I don't want to know how late, really. Some days, I don't know if he even went to bed... although there were days when he slept at such odd times during the day, that the kids' room never got cleaned. At one point, we kicked the kids out just so they could get the bathroom cleaned. But it's vacation. By the 3rd day on the boat, the room looks like a tornado hit the closet. Managing the clothing is not their collective strong point.
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Settle Day One - Underground
Seattle Day One: found us shuttling our way to the Tukwila Embsssy Suites at 10 AM. After rearranging and storing the numerous bags we brought, we shuttle back to a light rail station to make the ride into downtown Seattle. It's a sunny but cool (cold) afternoon. After splitting up for lunch - kids had pizza, grown ups had Italian - we set off to explore the underground world of old Seattle.
Original Seattle was built on some kind of tide flats surrounded by hills and would flood twice a day. A fire leveled the town, and while some was rebuilt where the previous structures stood, the rest of the town decided to gradually raise the streets (and sewer lines!) to prevent flood and leaking sewage. Phew! Our guide had a teenaged boy sense of humor, so needless to say, Brian and the rest of my kids thought all the crapper jokes were hysterical. What I got out of the tour was this: Seattle used to be populated by whores (who I like to refer to as the the original capitalists) and gold miners; Pioneer Square is now an historic site = buildings can't be worked on without serious paperwork/legalities and therefore leaving seeming prime real estate left to decay. Lucky for the tour, the decaying buildings actually give tourists something to shell 16 bucks out for. The best part of the tour was the gift shop, where I was able to purchase a heavy suede-like jacket for 29.95. A steal! And now I won't be cold on the trip. Of course, the second I purchased the jacket, the temperature turned warmer and I ended up carrying it for the rest of the afternoon.
One of the reasons that Seattle is such a great/green town is the public transportation. Never one to hesitate to get on a bus, we found the right bus to take us to the Pike's Place Market - a crowded touristy affair. We saw one fish tossed, used the bathrooms, bought some soda, and called it a day. We'll return on the 2nd part of the Seattle trip. I have my eye on a spectacular looking crab roll (not sushi, but the Pacific Northwest version of the popular New England treat.)
Back to the hotel for "Happy Time" as Ed has been known to call it. Free drinks and snacks for a 2 hour window. Colin and I walk to Taco Bell to get dinner and get hit by rain on the way back fairly soaking ourselves in the process. Taco Bell and some TV, and we were all ready to hit our pillows.
[Julia and Colin together with me and Brian in the room with Aidan and Ed on the sofa bed out in the living area. It's always best to separate the snorers...]
Original Seattle was built on some kind of tide flats surrounded by hills and would flood twice a day. A fire leveled the town, and while some was rebuilt where the previous structures stood, the rest of the town decided to gradually raise the streets (and sewer lines!) to prevent flood and leaking sewage. Phew! Our guide had a teenaged boy sense of humor, so needless to say, Brian and the rest of my kids thought all the crapper jokes were hysterical. What I got out of the tour was this: Seattle used to be populated by whores (who I like to refer to as the the original capitalists) and gold miners; Pioneer Square is now an historic site = buildings can't be worked on without serious paperwork/legalities and therefore leaving seeming prime real estate left to decay. Lucky for the tour, the decaying buildings actually give tourists something to shell 16 bucks out for. The best part of the tour was the gift shop, where I was able to purchase a heavy suede-like jacket for 29.95. A steal! And now I won't be cold on the trip. Of course, the second I purchased the jacket, the temperature turned warmer and I ended up carrying it for the rest of the afternoon.
One of the reasons that Seattle is such a great/green town is the public transportation. Never one to hesitate to get on a bus, we found the right bus to take us to the Pike's Place Market - a crowded touristy affair. We saw one fish tossed, used the bathrooms, bought some soda, and called it a day. We'll return on the 2nd part of the Seattle trip. I have my eye on a spectacular looking crab roll (not sushi, but the Pacific Northwest version of the popular New England treat.)
Back to the hotel for "Happy Time" as Ed has been known to call it. Free drinks and snacks for a 2 hour window. Colin and I walk to Taco Bell to get dinner and get hit by rain on the way back fairly soaking ourselves in the process. Taco Bell and some TV, and we were all ready to hit our pillows.
[Julia and Colin together with me and Brian in the room with Aidan and Ed on the sofa bed out in the living area. It's always best to separate the snorers...]
Saturday, July 2, 2011
Day 2 - Hauling a backpack full of wine
Breakfast and packing on day 2 of the trip. We have thrown away the underwear that is dirty - I really am trying to lighten the load as we go... Brian found a Target on his morning jog and after breakfast he and I head out for the mile walk to get a few last minute items. Like wine. For us and the Dulacs.
It's at this point that I am happy for Julia's backpack purchases last summer. Before she started 6th grade, I convinced her that she would want to use a rolling backpack for the year, as she would have many books to take back and forth to school (not my first time at the 6th grade dance). She agreed, and when she found a $70 cute Jansport bag, I tried to talk into the less expensive Target version. She held firm, pledging to pay for half of it, arguing that she could use it when she went on vacation as a suitcase. So when getting ready for this trip, I remind her of her argument of using it for vacation travel. She was less than pleased, as she had already packed her other cute backpack. Flash forward to the Target shopping expedition of 2011. I'm happy to report that the Jansport backpack easily holds 5 bottles of wine, plus various other small necessities, and that the mile walk back to the hotel was quite easy.
After a minor mix-up with our transportation needs from hotel to ship ("No, our family of 6 plus luggage can't fit into your sedan. Please send the SUV that we ordered yesterday." simultaneoulsy with "No, Brian, I will not consider taking public transportation with all of our crap across town.") we made it to the docks slightly ahead of the Dulacs, who left Los Angeles on the correct day of departure. Meeting up with them, transferring their 3 bottles of wine to them, and then not being questioned by anyone in security about the wine, it occurs to all of us (too late) that there was really nothing stopping us from bringing more wine onto the boat. Alas, the 5 bottles will have to be supplemented throughout the week.
Getting on board was an adventure. The kids are in a stateroom on level 5 FORWARD - just off the portrait gallery. Yes, Ed must go through the portrait gallery to get to his stateroom. Every. Time. The portrait gallery is having it's bargain sale tomorrow - everything under $700 is a bargain sale. This seems like poor planning to me on the part of Princess. [But it does make it easy to find his room: "Turn left at the picture of Edward from Twilight, Dad" "Um, Ed, that's James Dean." "Whatever!" Ed replies.] I should say - the 3 little kids are in the stateroom on 5. And me. My "cruise card" is for the kids' room, as I'm technically assigned a room with my children. It's the room we got through the family and friends deal - and they're funny about selling cruises to a room full of minors. (Although a room full of miners would be just fine. It's all about spelling and punctuation, people.) So Colin and Brian are on level 12 AFT. That's a whole lot of ship between the rooms. I'm a little concerned about this. Safety drills (separately) are done and after we have been fully mustered, we're left to our own devices until the sailaway.
Now is the point of the vacation when what I thought might be a little bit of allergies is turning into FULL BLOWN HEAD COLD. Complete with fever and chills. Shhhh. Don't tell Princess. I shouldn't even be on the boat. I am washing my hands and using the mandatory hand sanitizer like crazy. And taking cold medicine. Lots of it. Sadly, to no avail. I do, however, quickly find the beverage section of the buffet. There's quite a variety of teas (along with appalling coffee), hot water and lemon. If I just go right around the corner, the lovely Isaac wannabe happily will sell me a shot of brandy. Hot Toddies here I come!!! (Hey, they're medicinal)
And here's the portion of the cruise that is understandably yet always surprisingly annoying: it's not enough that the cost of a cruise could easily bankrupt a small island nation. No. The additional fees - in every possible form - assault you as if you were actually living in a QVC commercial. We have paid for 3 "kid friendly" drink packages (complete with bendy straw and Coke insulated tumbler) at $49 each (plus tax and tip!!!) Only 3 were purchased because Aidan took off on his own and wasn't with us. Colin, Julia and Edwin now must drink $7 of soda, juice and shakes PER DAY in order for us to "get our money's worth." This is not something I would normally do. I don't usually pay $150 for soda in a year let alone a week. I'm the mom who makes her kids order water with meals out. I could have another Kindle for the amount we just paid. For soda. Brian points out that it will make our lives easier for the week. OK - that almost makes up for it. Maybe it was the cold medicine that made me say yes. [Aidan eventually got his drink package a day and a half later. He charged it to his cruise card himself. Signed for it. And gave extra tip "just to round it up and make it even, Mom." "AIDAN!!!!!! Tip was ALREADY INCLUDED you numbnuts!!!n That's what 'gratuity' means!"]
The constant hawking of wares (I don't really count the alcohol, since that was a given) and services is a bit off-putting. The Dulacs have noticed that on this cruise (unlike the rather garish, yet fun-loving Carnival staff) the crew seems slightly rude when you don't want to purchase what they have to sell. While the life as a crewmember on a cruise ship is not an easy one, I know, (and some are less easy than others, like the constantly working room stewards) I am far less sympathetic to their plight when they get snippy because I won't shell out even more money.
I finally get to see the stateroom where I am staying. Balcony room! I didn't realize what a big deal this was. I thought the kids' room with a view was pretty cool, after only ever staying in inside rooms. But this room is the coolest. I booked it several months back at the normal rate, but didn't specify where I wanted my Forresterish "room with partially obstructed view". For that indecision, I was blessed with a killer upgrade - free of charge. Woo hoo!!! It's like getting bumped from the last row seats to 5th row center at a Vegas Barry Manilow concert. Only better. King bed, huge closet and BALCONY. The magnitude of the coolness will not hit me for a few days, but I'm still pretty impressed.
Dinner is late seating with the Dulacs - adults at one table, all kids (with 21 year old Paul Dulac, bless his heart) at a neighboring table. It's a delightful meal. I remember very little of it. There was cold medicine. There was wine. There was cheese. (OHHHHHH the cheese on this trip. I have eaten it at every meal. I loooovvvveee it so much. I even turn European and have it for dessert.) There was going to bed at 10:30.
It's at this point that I am happy for Julia's backpack purchases last summer. Before she started 6th grade, I convinced her that she would want to use a rolling backpack for the year, as she would have many books to take back and forth to school (not my first time at the 6th grade dance). She agreed, and when she found a $70 cute Jansport bag, I tried to talk into the less expensive Target version. She held firm, pledging to pay for half of it, arguing that she could use it when she went on vacation as a suitcase. So when getting ready for this trip, I remind her of her argument of using it for vacation travel. She was less than pleased, as she had already packed her other cute backpack. Flash forward to the Target shopping expedition of 2011. I'm happy to report that the Jansport backpack easily holds 5 bottles of wine, plus various other small necessities, and that the mile walk back to the hotel was quite easy.
After a minor mix-up with our transportation needs from hotel to ship ("No, our family of 6 plus luggage can't fit into your sedan. Please send the SUV that we ordered yesterday." simultaneoulsy with "No, Brian, I will not consider taking public transportation with all of our crap across town.") we made it to the docks slightly ahead of the Dulacs, who left Los Angeles on the correct day of departure. Meeting up with them, transferring their 3 bottles of wine to them, and then not being questioned by anyone in security about the wine, it occurs to all of us (too late) that there was really nothing stopping us from bringing more wine onto the boat. Alas, the 5 bottles will have to be supplemented throughout the week.
Getting on board was an adventure. The kids are in a stateroom on level 5 FORWARD - just off the portrait gallery. Yes, Ed must go through the portrait gallery to get to his stateroom. Every. Time. The portrait gallery is having it's bargain sale tomorrow - everything under $700 is a bargain sale. This seems like poor planning to me on the part of Princess. [But it does make it easy to find his room: "Turn left at the picture of Edward from Twilight, Dad" "Um, Ed, that's James Dean." "Whatever!" Ed replies.] I should say - the 3 little kids are in the stateroom on 5. And me. My "cruise card" is for the kids' room, as I'm technically assigned a room with my children. It's the room we got through the family and friends deal - and they're funny about selling cruises to a room full of minors. (Although a room full of miners would be just fine. It's all about spelling and punctuation, people.) So Colin and Brian are on level 12 AFT. That's a whole lot of ship between the rooms. I'm a little concerned about this. Safety drills (separately) are done and after we have been fully mustered, we're left to our own devices until the sailaway.
Now is the point of the vacation when what I thought might be a little bit of allergies is turning into FULL BLOWN HEAD COLD. Complete with fever and chills. Shhhh. Don't tell Princess. I shouldn't even be on the boat. I am washing my hands and using the mandatory hand sanitizer like crazy. And taking cold medicine. Lots of it. Sadly, to no avail. I do, however, quickly find the beverage section of the buffet. There's quite a variety of teas (along with appalling coffee), hot water and lemon. If I just go right around the corner, the lovely Isaac wannabe happily will sell me a shot of brandy. Hot Toddies here I come!!! (Hey, they're medicinal)
And here's the portion of the cruise that is understandably yet always surprisingly annoying: it's not enough that the cost of a cruise could easily bankrupt a small island nation. No. The additional fees - in every possible form - assault you as if you were actually living in a QVC commercial. We have paid for 3 "kid friendly" drink packages (complete with bendy straw and Coke insulated tumbler) at $49 each (plus tax and tip!!!) Only 3 were purchased because Aidan took off on his own and wasn't with us. Colin, Julia and Edwin now must drink $7 of soda, juice and shakes PER DAY in order for us to "get our money's worth." This is not something I would normally do. I don't usually pay $150 for soda in a year let alone a week. I'm the mom who makes her kids order water with meals out. I could have another Kindle for the amount we just paid. For soda. Brian points out that it will make our lives easier for the week. OK - that almost makes up for it. Maybe it was the cold medicine that made me say yes. [Aidan eventually got his drink package a day and a half later. He charged it to his cruise card himself. Signed for it. And gave extra tip "just to round it up and make it even, Mom." "AIDAN!!!!!! Tip was ALREADY INCLUDED you numbnuts!!!n That's what 'gratuity' means!"]
The constant hawking of wares (I don't really count the alcohol, since that was a given) and services is a bit off-putting. The Dulacs have noticed that on this cruise (unlike the rather garish, yet fun-loving Carnival staff) the crew seems slightly rude when you don't want to purchase what they have to sell. While the life as a crewmember on a cruise ship is not an easy one, I know, (and some are less easy than others, like the constantly working room stewards) I am far less sympathetic to their plight when they get snippy because I won't shell out even more money.
I finally get to see the stateroom where I am staying. Balcony room! I didn't realize what a big deal this was. I thought the kids' room with a view was pretty cool, after only ever staying in inside rooms. But this room is the coolest. I booked it several months back at the normal rate, but didn't specify where I wanted my Forresterish "room with partially obstructed view". For that indecision, I was blessed with a killer upgrade - free of charge. Woo hoo!!! It's like getting bumped from the last row seats to 5th row center at a Vegas Barry Manilow concert. Only better. King bed, huge closet and BALCONY. The magnitude of the coolness will not hit me for a few days, but I'm still pretty impressed.
Dinner is late seating with the Dulacs - adults at one table, all kids (with 21 year old Paul Dulac, bless his heart) at a neighboring table. It's a delightful meal. I remember very little of it. There was cold medicine. There was wine. There was cheese. (OHHHHHH the cheese on this trip. I have eaten it at every meal. I loooovvvveee it so much. I even turn European and have it for dessert.) There was going to bed at 10:30.
Friday, June 24, 2011
And We're Off
Some things to consider when booking airline travel for a family of six on an Alaskan cruise: 1) have a calendar near the computer; 2) know what date your ship leaves. If you don't do these things, then you may find yourself awake at the godforsaken hour of O'dark-thirty with the sole purpose of catching a flight to Seattle 24 hours in advance of the actual sailing time. On the 7 AM flight that was necessary on sailing day, but not so much on the day before. And then you'll find yourself rearranging 6 pounds out of your husband's suitcase into your child's suitcase with 4 kids, 7 carry-ons and 5 other bags sprawled around you at the ticket counter while said husband is conveniently "parking the car and meeting you at the gate" with only a book and a wallet in his pocket, You reconfigure "his" suitcase, because he will have a fit to pay any extra luggage fee on top of the 20 bucks it will cost him to check his bag. You will not, however, have a problem paying $50 for your own excess luggage poundage. Because the luggage and the packing have been your undoing for the last week. And you're just done. Before the trip even starts.
This is not my first trip to the traveling pony show. I have successfully packed this family of 6 for many a trip. Trips abroad. Long, extended car trips east. Trips to New York and Florida utilizing only carry-on luggage. However, this Alaskan trip has been the hardest packing experience of my motherhood journey. [Hmmm, maybe it's tied with the trip I had to take by myself from Chicago to Jamestown, NY when the boys were 1 and 3. Double stroller, car seat, diaper bag, 2 kids and one large backpack (on my back!) with all the clothes I needed for the 3 of us for 2 weeks. I literally had to carry everything and everyone through the airport by myself after parking my car and catching the shuttle to the terminal. With all the stuff. Good times. Almost as good as flying with a newborn and a dog.] But this trip has been harder. The hardest. 7 day cruise with needed formal wear. (Seriously??? I need to find suits and dress shoes to fit growing teenagers?) And not the sunny kind of cruise that's actually a vacation. The cold Alaskan kind that necessitates warm winterish clothing. (Yes, winterish. I live in Southern California. 55-65 degrees is winter for me, OK?) Then 7 days of touring Seattle and Vancouver because: "We might as well stay and see the Pacific Northwest. After all, we've already paid for the airfare. When else will we be back?" PLUS the EXTRA day in Seattle due to the little calendar mix-up. That's what every mom wants: an added bonus day in a hotel before the 7 day cruise extravaganza. 24 hours of kids destroying the carefully, meticulously packed suitcases (that were checked, and paid for - thank you very much. "No, Brian, I really can't pack a kid for 15 days in a carry on.") And no laundry services along the way. Unless I spend an afternoon of my "vacation" at the laundromat. Which will probably happen. Joy.
I'm sure things have been forgotten. I'm sure we won't have enough of *something*. I have passports and a credit card. And plenty of underwear (which we will be throwing out as we go. Gotta make room for souvenirs with moose and bears stamped across them. I myself plan to find the tackiest, most touristy sweatshirt I can find and plan to wear it proudly. Bring on the moose tracks.) and benedryl. Passports, Credit Card, Underwear, Benedryl. Do I really need anything else?
This blog brought to you by: Jackie, the guardian angel who flew in at the last minute to help me pack my own suitcase - which was dangerously close to not getting packed last night as I was one margarita away from not coming on the trip; and by airline wifi, for which I happily paid $9.95 - money I earned from packing 5 people for a 15 day extravaganza.
P.S. Today is June 24. Not June 25. June 25, 2011 Saturday, is the day the ship leaves. Today is not that day.
This is not my first trip to the traveling pony show. I have successfully packed this family of 6 for many a trip. Trips abroad. Long, extended car trips east. Trips to New York and Florida utilizing only carry-on luggage. However, this Alaskan trip has been the hardest packing experience of my motherhood journey. [Hmmm, maybe it's tied with the trip I had to take by myself from Chicago to Jamestown, NY when the boys were 1 and 3. Double stroller, car seat, diaper bag, 2 kids and one large backpack (on my back!) with all the clothes I needed for the 3 of us for 2 weeks. I literally had to carry everything and everyone through the airport by myself after parking my car and catching the shuttle to the terminal. With all the stuff. Good times. Almost as good as flying with a newborn and a dog.] But this trip has been harder. The hardest. 7 day cruise with needed formal wear. (Seriously??? I need to find suits and dress shoes to fit growing teenagers?) And not the sunny kind of cruise that's actually a vacation. The cold Alaskan kind that necessitates warm winterish clothing. (Yes, winterish. I live in Southern California. 55-65 degrees is winter for me, OK?) Then 7 days of touring Seattle and Vancouver because: "We might as well stay and see the Pacific Northwest. After all, we've already paid for the airfare. When else will we be back?" PLUS the EXTRA day in Seattle due to the little calendar mix-up. That's what every mom wants: an added bonus day in a hotel before the 7 day cruise extravaganza. 24 hours of kids destroying the carefully, meticulously packed suitcases (that were checked, and paid for - thank you very much. "No, Brian, I really can't pack a kid for 15 days in a carry on.") And no laundry services along the way. Unless I spend an afternoon of my "vacation" at the laundromat. Which will probably happen. Joy.
I'm sure things have been forgotten. I'm sure we won't have enough of *something*. I have passports and a credit card. And plenty of underwear (which we will be throwing out as we go. Gotta make room for souvenirs with moose and bears stamped across them. I myself plan to find the tackiest, most touristy sweatshirt I can find and plan to wear it proudly. Bring on the moose tracks.) and benedryl. Passports, Credit Card, Underwear, Benedryl. Do I really need anything else?
This blog brought to you by: Jackie, the guardian angel who flew in at the last minute to help me pack my own suitcase - which was dangerously close to not getting packed last night as I was one margarita away from not coming on the trip; and by airline wifi, for which I happily paid $9.95 - money I earned from packing 5 people for a 15 day extravaganza.
P.S. Today is June 24. Not June 25. June 25, 2011 Saturday, is the day the ship leaves. Today is not that day.
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