Luxury cruising: finding our bed strewn with rose petals and towel swans along with a bottle of champagne waiting for us as a way to honor our anniversary.
Luxury cruising: having the head chef come our table and say, “I’ve finally found you–you are not taking advantage of ordering anything you want ahead of time. We will make any dish you want to comply with your gluten-free needs.”
Apparently, I am the only person on board with this issue (or who acknowledges having this issue since it is such a pain to deal with) and they want to make sure I am happy and well-fed at all times.
It’s a bit of a contrast with this crucifix with a profoundly emaciated Jesus I saw yesterday. We were slowly wandering through a 1500-year-old church in Kotor, Montenegro, an ancient city in a tiny county just south of Croatia.  I suspect this area has seen much starvation in its long history.
This ship stops every day. We have multiple options of tours available to us, most of them with no additional charge.
We had originally planned to take a coach from the port and see an extremely old fort and a church somehow constructed on what looked like nearly sheer mountainside cliffs.
However, we were still a bit weary from the travel and decided to take a quiet morning on the ship before setting off to explore the town on the coast ourselves.
It was raining, and we happily took a large umbrella supplied by the ship and set about. Many tourists had not been prepared for the rain and were wandering around, soaked to the skin.
Feeling extremely grateful, we entered the walled city and slowly make our way from the larger entrance courtyard to the narrow, wandering streets beyond.
Coffee shops and pubs predominate. I have the impression that many people of this area spend as much time as possible in these places. Most seating is outside as the weather generally makes it possible–all offered shelter from the rain with large canvas coverings over the sidewalks. Conversation matters here.
Churches dot the countryside and anchor the towns. Always.
Our guides have several times emphasized the centrality of religious festivals in the lives of the local inhabitants. There’s a general sense of shared religious understanding–nothing that appears to mirror the splintering of religious thought that characterizes the US.
But I also suspect that, outside the festivals, there is little real thought to it. They just generally breathe it in.
Two days ago, we had joined three other couples on a private yacht tour of several islands dotting the Adriatic Sea off Croatia. We were the last ones to get on board. The interior of the yacht only seated six comfortably, and no one moved or offered any extra space as we peeked in, so Gene and I found seating on the stern.
We moved through the deep blue waters under a perfectly clear sky, hearing just snippets of the guide’s tour lecture given to the others. We wandered through gardens and streets of two small islands, making occasional comments to one another, but with no introductions, no names.
At the third island, we were all seated at a table for lunch. Finally, after having toured together for nearly four hours, we made introductions. The VERY RICH man at the table quickly made his wealth and position loudly apparent. His German-born wife mentioned that the coffee was muddy. The other two couples turned out to be brothers and their wives.
AND, as it turned out, all four men had spent time on the streets of New Jersey and Delaware, all coming from working-class backgrounds, all going through their teen years doing various odd jobs that most parents would never permit young teen boys to do today. Lots of common memories.
The men totally dominated the conversation. The VERY RICH man kept checking his phone. Their Florida house is in the path of the hurricane. He was checking to see if the shutters he had recently installed were properly closing after he had connected with their controls through his phone. He mentioned that Lloyds of London had offered to insure his landscaping against hurricane damage for $50,000, but he decided he could just replant it for that sum.
His wife and I chatted briefly on the way back to the yacht–she speaking of the challenges of maintaining two houses even with multiple staffs to keep them running. “They just don’t care properly about things!”
Oh, the challenges of the VERY RICH. I did mention to my husband at dinner my growing concern over my neck wrinkles, yet to see their first surgical repair. I am definitely the anomaly here. Will probably stay that way.
Two evenings ago, the captain came onto the speaker system and said, “As soon as I ring the bell, step out into the hallway with an empty glass and meet your neighbors!”
And so we did, discovering that most of our cabin neighbors are either Australian or British, but with a sprinkling of people from the US. The usual white coated waiters kept our glasses full, circulating through the hallways with canapes. Eventually, the captain showed, preceeded by his videographer.
Many of our shipmates have cruised extensively, finding this a very good way to vacation. We enjoyed hearing about the favorite places they had seen.
Quite great fun and a wonderful way to help learn faces and a few names.
The activities for the day today include a “Sabbath Eve Worship Service.” Description: “Join others for worship & fellowship at this self-conducted service. All materials will be provided for you.”
Will be curious if there is something like this for the non-Jewish passengers as well.
The ship has just left this port, setting out for Sicily. Seas are fairly rough. I’m grateful for my magic little wrist thing that consistently sends some electrical impulses through my nerves that helps me keep seasickness at bay.
Time to dress for dinner. And I do mean “dress.” Elegance is the word for the evenings.
Yep, this is definitely a different world than the church one I have known and loved for so long. And the things that the church cares so passionately about and argues about with such vehemence are completely ignored here. Â Completely.
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