Having survived the immigration procedure, we were prepared for anything else life could throw at us - which was just as well.
We finally made it to our Bayside hotel and our luxury room with its magnificent 33rd floor view over the water. Sadly, we had very little time to appreciate it. Our heads hit the pillow and we slept, although only for 4 hours. Why doesn’t your body clock recognise a time difference when it hits one? We were wide awake at 6 o’clock in the morning chomping at the bit for our $15 buffet breakfast, which of course wasn’t $15 by the time the sales tax and gratuities had been added on.
‘Isn’t it great to be back in the US?’ I said to Mr T as he signed the check for $45.
Just across the street from our hotel was a Wholefoods Store – one of my all time favourite shops. It’s a very clever marketing concept. Everything in Wholefoods looks healthy and good for you, even if it isn’t. (For those of you unfamiliar with Wholefoods, in the UK there’s one in Kensington High Street, which should give you a clue to its customer demographics).
Just for old times’ sake, I couldn’t resist buying a bottle of Raspberry vinaigrette salad dressing to pack into my suitcase before we headed across the road to the CVS Pharmacy, where Mr T purchased some dermatological cream which he hadn’t been able to track down in Europe (probably because the stuff is so toxic the manufacturer can’t get a licence for it). CVS is another wonderful US phenomenon – pharmaceutical products and alcohol under the same roof.
After CVS we strolled along the waterfront, spotted a manatee in the harbour and admired swooping pelicans. Was it time to head for our cruise ship? No, it was still only 9 o’clock in the morning.
Two hours later we took a cab to the port, the driver blatantly disregarding the flashing ‘tunnel ahead closed’ traffic sign, presumably so that we could have a scenic tour of the route he could have taken, before turning around and driving half way back to our hotel and taking (what looked like) a short cut to the cruise terminal. I may be a cynic but if you can con a tourist out of an extra $10 with a road diversion, why not?
But we were on board, in the sunshine, with a spacious cabin and 15 floors of fun filled cruise ship to explore.
We’d chosen Celebrity Cruises because a few years ago I’d gone into our local travel agency and asked for a recommendation for an Alaskan cruise. When the 30-year-old assistant had looked up at me and replied ‘go with Celebrity, they cater for the younger market like us’ I had booked it on the spot. This time, we liked the look of the itinerary – not too many days at sea, which you might think defeats the whole object of a cruise but what it actually means is that we were due to call in at four different ports in six days, an opportunity to experience a diverse range of Caribbean destinations in a very short space of time. The added attraction, of course was the complimentary ‘beverage package’ to include as many soft drinks, cocktails, beers and glasses of wine a day as we could manage, plus $300 on-board spending money. How could we lose?
Well we couldn’t, or so we thought. Yet, as we sat down to tuck into our first onboard lunch, disaster struck again, or rather, a mobility scooter struck Mr T. Please don’t think I’m prejudiced against people with mobility issues – because I’m not, but there is a time and a place for a mobility scooter the size of a Reliant Robin and a crowded buffet dining room is not it, especially when the driver, as his wife apologetically pointed out, had only just acquired his vehicle. This man didn’t need L-Plates, he needed to be accompanied by an instructor. If it was me he’d crashed into, or some other frail elderly passenger, the consequences could have been far worse. As it was Mr T was able to pick himself up and continue eating his lunch. A short spell in a bubbling jot Jacuzzi and the cocktail of the day soon soothed his wounds. Miami slipped away and we prepared ourselves for our first day at sea.
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