This ship, like all of these types, has a small shopping mall. One store is always for sundries you left at home (like overpriced band-aids, antacids, & nail clippers) and souvenir crap (hats, shirts, jackets, etc.) with the cruise line’s name on them. The other stores are inevitably jewelry, watches, perfume, and leather goods for people who have nothing better to do then spend a fortune on jewelry after they already paid similar to book the trip in the first place. I do not understand this.
One store had this ad in the ship's newsletter. The tagline can be interpreted... in many ways.
|"It's not the size of your gold chain, it's how you use it."|
This ship has several good bands. Perhaps the most interesting is 2 guys who sit in the main atrium and play violin and accordion. After a few days of Fisherman's Wharf you find yourself looking for a can to drop a few bucks in, then realize that this is included in the trip. I liked them, but my mom wasn't as impressed, and called them "The Screechy Twins."
There are 3 other groups in lounges and theaters, and a good piano player/singer in the martini bar. Music is pretty hard to escape from on a cruise, except in the corridors and your cabins. It's everywhere else. If you're not hearing live music, then they've got elevator music in the background. All over. You cannot escape. We are Muzak. Resistance is futile.
They had a backstage tour of the ship's main theater. I noticed this hanging on the costume rack:
Tonight Peter was again shocked. Marie bravely decided to try escargot... with, of course, Ranch dressing.
Then he went around the table. My family has always had a thing about sauces, preferring to have them on the side. Peter was not wired for this concept. After the 4th person in our party of 6 asked to have whatever sauce was included “on the side” he snapped.
Peter: “What is this with the sauces? Is there a problem with the sauces? Did you have a bad experience with our sauces on a previous cruise?”
My mom: “No, we’d just like to try the sauce first before putting it on the meat. That way, if we don’t like it, we don’t have to scrape it off.”
Peter: “Okay, I assure you...”
My wife spilled her water.
Frank’s phone began playing “Amish Paradise.”
(Craig raises his hand)
Peter: “Do you have a question?”
Craig: “I just like raising my hand.”
(Puts hand down).
Marie: “Instead of sauce, can I have Ranch dressing? A lot of it?”
The family next to us started passing around Limoncello and singing "Happy Anniversary."
Peter was pale and his lips were twitching. He mumbled something and went off to put our orders in.
Following dinner Craig and I went to hold some seats for tonight's show. After we got situated Mrs. Bitchy (who else) came over.
Mrs. Bitchy: "You'll have to move. I had my eye on these seats earlier."
Dr. Grumpy: "No one was sitting here, and they weren't marked."
Mrs. Bitchy: "I usually sit in this row on cruises."
Dr. Grumpy: "We're only taking up 6 out of 20 seats. You can sit on either side of us."
Mrs. Bitchy: "That isn't acceptable. I don't like being near teenagers."
Dr. Grumpy: (referencing the shipboard app) "It's a 1000 seat theater. I'm sure you'll find something."
Mrs. Bitchy gave me the bird and tottered off, looking like she was being waterboarded with lemon juice.
Walking past a pool later, I passed this existentialist sign: