Trip Reports - Not the Love Boat, not at all

United comes out of the penalty box

Hunnybear ferried me to LAX in my dirty white Pontiac, threatening that if I didn’t get it washed soon she was going to do something drastic like get it washed for me. Arnie the Compmeister had found a great deal on a seven-day cruise aboard the Grand Princess so I decided to tag along with him and his brother Gary. I had booked a $550 seven-day-advance fare on United from LA to Fort Lauderdale and used a couple vouchers from past United fiascos to bring the fare down to practically nothing. The agent had mistakenly vaunted me to an upgraded seat assignment in First on the first leg instead of Business, which I deserved, but the day before somebody in United’s customer-repellent department caught the mistake and downgraded me back to Business.

There was no line at the First Class/1K checkin so I checked in there and handed over my confirmable upgrade. I remarked to the agent that it seemed they were collecting them every time now and she confirmed they had been instructed no longer to give 1Ks a break in collecting the certs. Despite my first reaction to losing a perk, I think it may actually result in more ability to upgrade as not all 1Ks will be willing to shell out for upgrades out of their own pocket. We certainly have plenty of miles and 10,000 miles is identical to a confirmable upgrade cert. Of course they are competing with other airlines that give unlimited upgrades to their top tier.

I got a new gold boarding pass and headed to gate 72 where I volunteered to sit in First Class but it was not possible because the load factor. I took my seat in the first row of Business on the internationally configured 767-300 and tried to guess which of the passengers in F were retired United employees. We had preflight drink service and I grabbed a plastic cup of water while I perused the entertainment guide, looking forward to not having to see Frequency again because we had personal videos. I stood up while the plane loaded because people kept bumping my knee as they passed by my seat 5D. The plane took off with one empty seat in F.

We took off on time and I really had a lovely flight. I watched Coyote Ugly, a reverse-Pygmalion story showing that a gifted, intelligent, beautiful girl from a New York suburb can make it as a waitress in a sleazy Manhattan bar. Lunch was a choice of filet mignon or pasta so I held my breath and asked for the steak as rare as humanly possibly. For the first time in literally years it came out medium and I enjoyed the thick cut with caramelized onion sauce and sliced potatoes. As a rule I don’t eat dessert so I passed on the Eli’s cheesecake. Wine, as usual, was the excellent Louis Martini cabernet.

We landed on time in Chicago and I headed to the Red Carpet Club to check email and FlyerTalk. I booked an award ticket for some friends and was helped by a super-nice agent in the club. I munched on a couple celery sticks and before I knew it it was time to board my second leg to Fort Lauderdale.

This flight was a 757 so I walked down the Jetway and turned left. I had seat 1B and my seat opponent was a retired Treasury agent who had been in charge of covert operations for the western United States. He told me some great stories about how they had used seized yachts to pretend they were high rollers so they could catch more criminals. The stewardesses on this flight were my favorite: young, sassy, good looking and attentive. I had grouper, which was pretty good if just a little dry. Dessert was Eli’s cheesecake for a change but as a rule I don’t eat dessert. I didn’t bother to watch Frasier again because I was having a great time talking to the T-man but I had a couple Black Russians in honor of PremEx and soon we were landing in Florida.

I hopped into a cab and got almost to the airport exit before I remembered I had to pick up my checked bag so I told the driver to take me back to where he found me and I gave him $5. Despite my whirlwind tour of the airport drive the bags had still not started to come out yet. Finally they did. I waited and waited and at last my First Class-tagged bag came out—dead last. The conveyor belt ground to a halt as my bag stopped right in front of me.

I took another cab and this time got all the way to the Sheraton Yankee Trader, on the beach. When I reached the checkin desk I found the entire crew from my United flight ahead of me including sassy stewardesses Bridget and Leslie. I bid them goodnight and got the key to my suite, a two-room job with full ocean view. A very nice amenity was waiting for me: mixed nuts, an assortment of candy-covered fruit and nuts, and three bottles of water. I was on line for almost an hour when I discovered this Sheraton was using a non-standard phone policy and had turned the meter on at 30 minutes instead of 60. That meant I had a $4 charge for a single call to deal with in the morning. I called Hunnybear on my cell phone and wished her goodnight.


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I hope you enjoy my Lion Tales. For photos, past travelogues, subscriptions, and more, see www.liontales.com (http://www.liontales.com)

<<but the day before somebody in United's customer-repellent department caught the mistake and downgraded me back to Business.>>

ANOTHER golden gem of wit, wisdom, and outright prolonged laughter -- I love your tales

Don't you sleep better at night knowing that UA has agents on the prowl looking for double upgrades !!!! How ridiculous - you got a double upgrade by mistake - a one in a thousand mistake- and they can't let it go for a 1K- especially on a short LAX-ORD ride.
Customer service ????????????? kazman

Two cruises in less than a month? I hate you. http://www.flyertalk.com/forum/wink.gif

[This message has been edited by BizJet (edited 12-10-2000).]

Everyone who hates QL, please join the conga line! http://www.flyertalk.com/forum/biggrin.gif

Originally posted by BIM:
Everyone who hates QL, please join the conga line! http://www.flyertalk.com/forum/biggrin.gif

I don't hate him, but I think he should take other FlyerTalkers with him on these trips. (besides Hunnybear, she comes automatically). I volunteer to be first. http://www.flyertalk.com/forum/biggrin.gif

In a way, QL "took me" on his last trip to Las Vegas. Thanks, again. http://www.flyertalk.com/forum/smile.gif

I admire the restraint of going to Florida and not having any election jokes. Bravo!

QL's Lion Tales remind me daily why I stuff $ in my retirement account.

Amen, geo1004...

QL, Where are you?
I was looking forward to this trip report on your cruise. Looking forward to the next post. http://www.flyertalk.com/forum/smile.gif http://www.flyertalk.com/forum/smile.gif http://www.flyertalk.com/forum/smile.gif

I think that we might have to wait for Mr. Lion to return from the grand Grand Princess before we get a report. Last time on the Explorer of the Seas he used an onboard service called CyberCabin (available on RCCL's Voyager, Explorer, and Adventurer of the Seas) to access the internet. I don't think Princess has internet access outside of a slow and costly internet cafe onboard.

Wanna see the Lion?
Bridge Cams of many if not all of the Princess globetrotting vessels is available at www.princesscruises.com (http://www.princesscruises.com)

Click "Bridge Cams" on the main page; I believe QL is traveling on the Grand Princess.

Right on both counts, BizJet, and thanks everybody for the rah rahs. http://www.flyertalk.com/forum/smile.gif


Quack quack baby

Arnie called at eight. He had walked the three blocks from the Marriott where he and Gary were staying and was in the lobby so I told him to come up and threw on the bathrobe I found hanging in the closet. By the time he arrived a torrential rainstorm had begun, which continued all day. Gary met us a bit later and we went over to the Marriott to get them checked out. The Marriott was a timeshare facility. They had a crazy parking garage that you had to drive through and go up four levels, taking and returning a ticket every time you wanted to get in and out of the place. If it took you more than 15 minutes to get through the garage you were in trouble because the ticket expired. The boys packed up and filled out a viral-marketing form that threw 10 of their friends to the timeshare wolves in exchange for a pair of beach towels.

Arnie wanted to go for brunch so we could get a bite to eat before boarding so we piled into their rental car and drove. And drove. And drove. It turned out this place was in Miami Beach. Finally we arrived at Wolfie Cohen’s Rascal House. Rain was still coming down in buckets so we made a dash for the door and stood in a long line. They actually had five different lines to stand in depending upon the size of your party. Arnie loved this place because they brought about 20 pieces of assorted bread and pastry for free when you sat down. Arnie couldn’t wait till he sat down so he went over to the counter and grabbed a saltstick from someone else’s basket. Surprisingly, he lived.

After about a half-hour we got seated but not before we noticed a sign with the same Damon Runyon quote that Jerry’s Deli (NASDAQ: DELI) had: “There are two types of people—people who like delis and people you shouldn’t associate with.” It turned out that Jerry’s bought this place some years ago from Wolfie Cohen. It was a shade better than Jerry’s though and we had remarkably nice service from Ronnie, our sainted waitress who sailed with equanimity through the sea of complaints she was getting from all her customers. (A waitress in a place like this brings the check and says, “Was anything all right?”) I had a couple saltsticks while Arnie ordered a few dozen more since they were free. For lunch I had the Rachel, a Reuben made with Romanian Pastrami instead of corned beef. It was pretty good but the fries were dry and tasteless. The bill came to $33 for the three of us.

Arnie’s old friends Larry and Claude joined us part way through the meal, which was good because between the two rental cars we had enough space to schlep all of our luggage to Port Everglades, which we did right after we drove 50 miles back to Fort Lauderdale in the pouring rain. I checked out of the Sheraton Yankee Trader and the $4 phone call was adjusted off when I requested it. It was a short trip to the pier and there she stood in all her glory, the Grand Princess. She was 30,000 tons smaller than the Explorer of the Seas, which Hunnybear and I had sailed on last month, but she still made all the other cruise ships look like the S.S. Minnow. We unloaded our bags and before the porter could give me his spiel I took him aside and asked earnestly, “Do you accept tips, or would it be an insult to offer you money?” He allowed as how he did accept tips so I gave him five bucks for the three large and four small bags we were carrying. He handed it to an associate who scrutinized it as if he had never seen one before. He didn’t seem real happy so I guess I didn’t overtip.

Since we had arrived an hour after the first boarding time there was no line at all and checkin was a breeze. I asked for a cabin upgrade but it was not possible so I got my boarding card and came aboard my first Princess cruise ship. Although it was exciting and new I called Hunnybear and told her since she wasn’t with me it was “not the Love Boat, not at all.”

My cabin turned out to be at the very aft of the ship. It was an outside cabin with two small dirty portholes facing astern. Arnie’s discount travel agent, who had booked the cruise for me, had sent a bottle of Chateau Imperial American champagne bottled in Batavia, NY along with some processed cheese spread and crackers. The cabin was small compared to the huge handicapped-accessible accommodations we had been blessed with on Explorer of the Seas so I went to the purser’s desk and asked for Julie. She wasn’t available so I explained who I was and asked them to put me on the list for upgrades in case someone died on the way from the airport to the ship or something. I asked if there was some mistake because I had paid for category C and this room appeared very small. The assistant purser handed me a laminated deck plan. It turned out there were about 20 categories better than C. In fact there were only four C cabins on the ship, all right in the same place on Aloha deck in the back. I figured I’d live. I took a shower in the cramped enclosure, not really big enough to swing my elbow out to lather myself with soap.

I found Arnie and Gary and visited their cabin on Dolphin deck. They had a mini-suite so it took them a little time to come in from the balcony to open the door. The butler had just come to press Gary’s shirts and Arnie told him to return with some complimentary champagne for me so he brought a couple glasses of Korbel and another bottle for the refrigerator for later. All the liquor miniatures in the minibar were complimentary with the mini-suite, which was more than twice as big as my cabin although they were paying half what I was. Arnie is the Dealmeister.

We went up to Skywalker’s, a futuristic nightclub in the sky at the stern of the ship, to see her set sail. They had a sign saying closed for private party but we ignored it and grabbed a primo sofa to watch the launch. At 7:45 the whistle blew, she pulled out slowly, loudspeakers blared the “Love Boat” theme, and we were underway. It was almost time to eat so we went down to the Da Vinci dining room and found our table. It was just the five of us. Our waiter and busboy were both male but we corralled a cute Romanian girl, Andrea, who was bussing an adjacent table, and made her our honorary helper.

Gary ordered first, starting with shrimp cocktail and Caesar salad. He asked the waiter for recommendations for the entrée and he said, “Seafood turnover and prime rib.” That sounded good to Gary so he said he’d have the seafood turnover and the prime rib, rare. I concurred and had exactly the same thing. Well sir, everything was not just good, it was remarkable. With the exception of the shrimp cocktail, which could have had larger shrimp, I would have been happy with every dish in a fine restaurant. As a rule I don’t eat dessert but they had profiteroles so I had just one order with a scoop of homemade caramel ice cream and a handful of Lactaids. One word: wow. The only thing that could have made them better was having Hunnybear there to share them with me.

The casino had been open for a couple hours already so I excused myself as I was eager to see if they had any decent video poker. To my surprise, they did have several machines with excellent pay schedules so I parked myself down in front of a Deuces Wild machine and promptly hit the four ducks. I played a little blackjack with Arnie and Gary and we finished the evening all winners.

There was no midnight buffet on this ship. Instead, the buffet was open 24 hours. Arnie and Gary were feeling a bit peckish so I followed them up and watched them eat a huge full meal while I just had a couple cream puffs, which were glazed and wonderful. We got to bed around two ship’s time or 11 LA time.


No one died yet

Since my cabin was all the way astern I had some pretty good rocking motion and I thought it was too bad that Hunnybear wasn’t here to enjoy it with me. The coat hangers were enjoying it though and I had to interrupt their little musical symphony by placing them on the deck in the closet in order to get some sleep. When I awoke I had an hour before the casino opened so I wrote and then made it to my machine shortly after nine. Although I hit the ducks twice today I was only ahead a little because I wasn’t hitting anything else.

The ship passed through patches of good and bad weather today and the gang got a bit of sunning time out on the pool deck. We had lunch in the dining room and I ate light with just a Cobb salad and of course no dessert. Tonight was the captain’s cocktail party and it was also formal night so we all put on our suits and had free drinks. The tuxedo era aboard cruise ships seemed to be coming to an end. Each cruise I took had more and more men eschewing the traditional dinner jacket for a simple dark suit—including me. The captain gave my favorite kind of speech—short—and we all thought he spoke excellent English with an almost imperceptible accent. When we went to meet him we found out why: he was from England.

Dinner was even better than last night. We started with a symphony of caviar including my favorite, Sevruga. I only had one serving, along with chilled Absolut vodka. Then there was a nice lobster bisque followed by the main course, a tournedo of beef done perfectly rare. As a rule I don’t eat dessert so I had just one serving of wonderful chocolate soufflé with a scoop of chocolate fudge ice cream. After dinner I went back to Arnie and Gary’s suite to make a cocktail with some of the complimentary liquor the butler had left in the front room while returning their shined shoes. I squeezed into my cabin and made some room between the Chateau Batavia and the telephone to leave it on the shelf while I read a note from the purser saying sorry but it was not possible to upgrade my cabin as no one had died yet. I headed back to the casino while Arnie, Gary, and Larry went to see the production show, which they said was the best they had ever seen on a ship.

I played video poker very slowly while sipping C.C. on the rocks and broke about even while Claude stood by to entertain me with philosophical musings about the nature of life and France. When the show was over Gary and I played a little blackjack and we won a bit so we headed up to the 24-hour buffet and had a couple pastries before bed.


Arnie’s lobster game

Today was another day at sea so I headed bright and early to the casino to play some video poker. Arnie brought me down a plate of delicious lox because he was concerned I wasn’t getting enough to eat. I hammered away hard but didn’t really get anywhere so I went out to check up on the rest of the gang lying out in the sun by the pool. Although we were experiencing 45 mph winds the pool area was sheltered quite well and wasn’t too breezy at all. They seemed to be doing fine and were about to head to the buffet for lunch. I was still full from my recent gluttony so skipped lunch and instead played some more video poker but still didn’t hit anything.

It was a semi-formal night so I showered and changed and went to try one last crack at the duck machine before dinner. This time was the charm as I hit to four quackers shortly after sitting down and cashed out. Tonight’s dinner featured rack of lamb so we all ordered a double portion (six chops). Mine came out medium-rare instead of rare as I had ordered it but it was still good so I didn’t make a fuss. Arnie had a little game he played on every cruise. He asked the headwaiter to prepare him a little lobster fra diavolo at some point during the cruise. On Princess he had been successful every time but on Royal Caribbean only once out of six cruises. Tonight was the night and out came a superb plate of angel-hair pasta with spicy lobster marinara. Arnie and Gary had seconds but I was running out of clothes sizes so I stopped. As a rule I don’t eat dessert but tonight they had Black Forest gateau so I had just one with a scoop of rum-raisin ice cream.

After dinner I played a little more video poker and decided to try my luck at craps. The table was cold as ice so I bet the don’ts and won every single bet over three shooters, including myself. I chased everyone off the table and cashed out way ahead. Since we had an early day in St. Thomas tomorrow I went to bed early.


Expensive Virgin

Arnie called at 8:30 to wake me up for our shore excursion. We all met down by the gangway. The ship’s medical center was down there and a sign was posted saying they had called around and discovered they were charging too little so they were raising their prices. Fortunately nobody was sick and we walked off the ship and set foot on St. Thomas, one of the U.S. Virgin Islands. The plan was to go to Trunk Bay, a beautiful beach on the adjacent island St. John. Nine of us were going so we all piled into an air-conditioned van and paid $8 apiece to ride to the other side of the island where we would catch the ferry. We just missed the 10:00 ferry so we waited for the 11. The ferry cost $3 each and took us across in about 15 minutes. There we caught another taxi that charged us $4 each to go to Trunk Bay, where we had to pay $4 each to get into the National Park there. We finally found ourselves at a small but beautiful beach and spread out on the sand.

I took a quick walk up and down the beach to see if there were any European tourists but there weren’t so we hit the snack bar and had a bite of lunch. Larry and Claude went snorkeling but there wasn’t much to see. Around two our driver, who had waited for us, drove us back to the ferry where we walked around town awhile before repeating the expensive process of returning to the ship. I found an Internet café and paid $3 to learn I had 340 messages built up in the three days I had been away. Chickens roamed the streets replete with chicks in tow. The rest of the gang had ice cream but as a rule I don’t eat dessert so I just watched the chickens. $34 later, not including Internet, we were back on the ship. The beach was nice but not any better than ones that don’t cost $34 and take three different modes of transportation to reach.

Arnie had been raving about pizza so I went with him to the pool area to have a couple slices. They were not good but great, really great—cheese, sauce, crust, the whole package. We washed them down with a well-done bratwurst. I went to my closet to change for the evening and when I emerged the sun was setting and we were about to set sail from St. Thomas. I went over to Arnie and Gary’s suite to watch CNN and see the ship pull out from their private balcony. The butler had left hors d’oeuvres for them.

At seven the casino opened so I moseyed on down to play a little video poker. I quickly got the worst hoovering of the trip so far but I knew it couldn’t last forever so I kept playing but it kept lasting. Finally I put a small winning streak together and cashed out a couple hundred credits before dinner.

Tonight was the Italian dinner. Arnie had put in a standing order for shrimp cocktail every night even though it wasn’t on the menu so we all had it along with Caesar salad. Our waiter recommended the veal chop and the shrimp fra diavolo, so we all had both. The veal chop was the first thing I had that I didn’t love. Mine came out overdone and tough. The shrimp were fabulous though so I had several more portions. As a rule I don’t eat dessert but they had ice-cream cake so I had just one slice.

We retired to Arnie and Gary’s cabin to watch Al Gore’s concession speech. We all agreed that it was the best speech he had ever given and if he had given it during the campaign he might be President Elect now. The three of us swore to rally our support behind George W. as requested by Al. It was showtime so Arnie and Gary went to see the headliner, Marty Allen, while I hit the casino to play a little video poker. The hoovering continued awhile and then I started hitting. Two Wild Royals came up, including one dealt with three Deuces. Then I got the Ace, King and 10 of Hearts and watched in amazement as the Jack and Queen popped up by their side. It was my first Royal Flush on a single-play machine, with the exception of the one I got in Prague that wasn’t the top jackpot. The casino manager came personally to hand pay my jackpot and I gave him a generous tip for the dealers. I left the Royal on the machine and moved over to the adjacent one while I waited for the gang to appear. They were suitably impressed. I cashed out and quit for the day. I played a little more craps and won again and then played a little more blackjack with Gary and broke even despite the best efforts of Peter, the evil dealer from Hong Kong who rooted against us at every turn.

The three girls from Ohio who had gone to Trunk Bay with us showed up and watched us play, then we all went up to the all-night buffet and had some more shrimp fra diavolo and yummy sea scallops while Marca, a tall drug salesman from Columbus, gave us her resume and requested a six-two former professional sports player (preferably hockey) who was now a stockbroker. We told her we’d check our rolodexes. It was almost three when we broke up the party and retired.


Four Ducks

Arnie generously gave us until 9:30 to get going this morning for our excursion to St. Martin. He was down in the Explorer Lounge getting us tender tickets but it wasn’t necessary as the Niña and the Santa Maria were pressed into service alongside our pint-sized lifeboat to ferry passengers ashore to this half-Dutch, half-French Virgin Island. Our tender driver must have read Dick Tracy comics as a kid because she found a 30-foot radius rain cloud and steered directly under it to get us drenched on the short trip with sunshine all around us.

When we got ashore Arnie negotiated a $55 jeep rental from one of the ubiquitous hawkers waiting for us. He went off in a minibus to fetch it and returned in a rusty old white Suzuki with no top. The levers to move the front seats forward had rusted through so Gary, Larry, and Claude climbed into the back seats while we of greater girth claimed the front. Arnie had discovered a shortcut to Orient Bay, where we were headed, that took us up and down steep, unmaintained roads but shaved a good half-hour off the trip. Arnie had a knack for hitting every pothole and we all screamed, “speed bump!” as he approached them at 40 mph. Actually the true speed was unknown as the meter was pinned at 12 mph the entire time. The signage was poor to nonexistent and we took several detours before finding our destination. The kicker was passing an enormous 20-foot sign that read “Orient Beach” because Larry convinced us it wasn’t an official sign and didn’t really go there. We drove to the next town before realizing it was probably telling the truth.

We made the two-hour round trip to Orient Beach because it was a beautiful beach and it had nothing to do with the fact that it was naturist resort. It was such a beautiful beach that we spent the entire time walking up and down the length of it, taking in the beauty. In typical French fashion there were many restaurants along the beach. We settled on a poor choice, a Mexican joint in a grass hut with poor service. Larry and I had a decent and healthful seafood brochette but Gary’s enchiladas literally never came. He finally waved goodbye and went next door for a burger. We had time for a couple more strolls up and down the beach and were met by a security guard with a long nightstick as we weaved in and out of the lounge chairs at Club Orient. He motioned to us to walk closer to the water.

We decided to take the long way back and by the narrowest of margins the court of beach resort voted to let Gary drive. He didn’t hit nearly as many potholes as Arnie but we got just as lost and it took us an hour and 20 minutes to make the return trip. Arnie and Gary went to return the jeep and I popped into the casino by the dock to check out their video-poker inventory. It was pathetic, with a top jackpot of 7000 coins for a 20-coin bet and machines with no brand name on them so you had no idea if they were rigged. We took the tender back to Grand Princess and went up to the poolside for pizza because it was time to eat.

The casino opened at six, an hour after we set sail. I was expecting the grand hoover today after my lucky streak and I was not disappointed. Soon it was time to eat and tonight’s French dinner was a welcome break. For starters I had a couple orders of escargot as we all told our favorite escargot jokes. Everyone else was having French onion soup so I had one too and enjoyed a few bites but didn’t finish it as it’s really just a pizza with broth in it. I had a Caesar salad afterwards. For the entrée I ordered duck. Gary amused himself greatly by suggesting that I four ducks. It was pretty good but I was so full by this point in the week that I was eating more and enjoying it less. As a rule I don’t eat dessert but Arnie ordered some for me and I had a couple bites of harlequin soufflé and raspberry ice cream.

I played a bit more video poker but didn’t hit anything and didn’t see the rest of the gang anywhere so I went up to the all-night buffet, grabbed a mocha éclair, and went to bed.


Lobster night at sea

Today was a sea day, meaning the casino was open all day. I went up to the buffet to grab half a bagel and some excellent lox and headed down for the 9 a.m. opening. The grand hoover continued, though, and nothing was doing so I went up to the pool deck to find the gang relaxing. Gary had pulled a hamstring last night in Skywalker’s. He was competing for the title of “Mr. Princess” and had capped a stunning maneuver in which he lifted the boy he was dancing with over his head with an aggressive split in the middle of the dance floor. The first split went fine but the second resulted in a painful hamstring pull and the title slipped from Gary’s grasp. So now he was lying prone in the sun, the pain assuaged by 600 mg of Motrin.

They had broiled shrimp in the buffet so I had a large helping with just a few pastries since as a rule I don’t eat dessert. I washed it down with a banana daiquiri and a grilled knackwurst and sat with the gang for a few minutes, but in the shade. I had lobstered a bit yesterday and Claude gave me a small vial of aloe, the miraculous morning-after pill of sunburn. I offered to get Arnie a banana daiquiri but Arnie thought the bartender looked hungry and offered to get him a bratwurst instead, which he gratefully accepted. Arnie tried to sell him a pizza too but had no success. I successfully resisted the pizza today but watched Arnie and Larry eat theirs while the 90-lb. Claude ate a strawberry. I went back down to the casino but still couldn’t hit anything and the pastries had wrought havoc with my blood sugar so I decided to take a nap. Arnie called to remind me to crash the captain’s past-passenger cocktail party so I showered and dressed in my second formal outfit.

We met at the Vista lounge where invitations were being collected at the door and the captain was shaking hands with everyone. We met the assistant cruise directors, Jules (English for Julie) and Giovanna (Italian for Julie). Giovanna was a zaftig Canadian girl who grew up near Hunnybear in North York, part of Toronto. I had half a dozen tiny but free Manhattans and we listened to the captain’s obligatory speech. He introduced one of the cruise staff, who had actually played a little boy on the original Love Boat series. Princess was planning three more ships the size of the Grand and two more the same length but narrower to fit through the Panama Canal. Cruise bargains will be available for the foreseeable future. Free enterprise is a wonderful thing.

Arnie wanted to see me play video poker drunk so he shepherded me to the casino and my entourage stood around and watched my technique. The girls from St. Thomas showed up, Jennifer, Suzy (who had come in second in the slot tournament today) and Marca, and watched me break even for a few minutes.

It was time to eat so we went to the Da Vinci dining room for lobster night. Arnie ordered lobster cocktail, lobster salad, and lobster. Gary ordered boneless skinless chicken breast a double baked potato plain, and a salad with lemon wedges, then burst out laughing and changed the whole thing to lobster. I started with Atlantic salmon caviar, which was good but not as good as the larger ikura salmon roe they serve in sushi bars, then had beef Wellington rare, which was absolutely superb, and six lobster tails, which were out of this world. The food was dangerously good on this cruise line, dangerously good. I ordered a bottle of Opus One 1996 for the table. It was the first time any of us had tried it and since it was only $110 on the ship I thought it would be a good time to buy a bottle. They had it at Gatsby’s in Vegas for $350 a bottle. Once it opened up it was superb, the roundest wine I have ever had. It touched every part of the mouth evenly and compared with the finest Bordeaux. As a rule I don’t eat dessert but Gary had special-ordered chocolate soufflé last night so I had one with a scoop of chocolate chocolate-chip ice cream.

The gang went to the show so I went to the casino. I was getting a little tired of the hoovering and I was down to my very last bet when—quack! I held a Deuce and up came three more. It had taken me 2200 coins to win 1000 but the ducks finally returned from their winter migration. I had been doing well at the craps table so I decided to repeat my performance and bet wrong. Once again I got the dice, annoyed everyone by carefully setting sevens on every roll, threw a dozen numbers, made one point, and sevened out. The other shooters had even worse luck and I finished ahead yet again. The only way to beat craps is by having good luck in short sessions so I flipped the dealers a generous tip and cashed out.

At midnight the cruise staff was building the traditional champagne tower. They cheated and put some kind of weight in the glasses, which were for display only and they brought regular glasses around on trays. It was a French sparkling wine not from the Champagne region, which Larry was quick to point out. The eastern European waiters, dressed in tuxedos, all had two jokes. When you asked what kind of champagne it was they said, “Dom Perignon.” When you didn’t want any they said, “Driving.” Other waiters brought around some yummy treats and Arnie and I had a couple macaroons and marzipan. I was exhausted and called it an early night.


Too much effort to float

I woke up to find the ship moored at Princess Cays, a private beach on a small island in the Bahamas. It was time to eat so I went up one level to the buffet and looked for Arnie. He wasn’t there yet but arrived in short order. I got a half bagel and lox and sat down with Arnie, who was eating a small breakfast of bagel, lox, croissant, two fried eggs, and coffee.

There was no line to take the tenders ashore so we met up with Larry and Claude and took the short ferry to Princess’s beach. We grabbed some heavy wooden beach chairs and lathered up with sunblock before testing the waters. The waters were cool so we rented a couple of floats and Arnie and I floated around awhile. When we returned to our chairs Gary arrived and we all relaxed in the sun until it was time to eat at which point we were first in line for the beach buffet barbecue. After lunch Arnie wanted to float again but it was too much effort for me so I stayed in the beach chair.

I took the tender back in plenty of time to shower and change before the casino opened at three. My goal was to hit one more set of ducks or, failing that, not lose too much of my winnings. I was up two cruises and wanted to keep it that way. As it turned out I had an amazing winning streak, hitting everything but Four Deuces or the Royal. The machine was set to spit out coins after 400 credits were accumulated and I just kept stacking up racks and racks of coins. Marca, Suzy, and Jennifer came to root me on and were shortly joined by Larry, Arnie, and Gary. They watched as nothing much happened and then guarded my machine while I went to my stateroom (I think the state was Rhode Island) and retrieved my tipping envelopes to give to Arnie to give to the dining staff.

We had booked Sabatini’s, one of two alternative restaurants on board ship, for dinner. Marca and Suzy joined us. The food was just as good as the dining room although the service was a little disconnected. They just kept bringing food: beef carpaccio, cioppino, antipasto, gnocchi, cannelloni—it went on and on. For the main course I ordered a veal chop medium rare and some langostinos on the side. Gary had a few lobster tails. Arnie had everything. They were willing to provide any combination of entrees and by the time I discovered my veal chop was once again overcooked I was too full to think about sending it back for another one. As a rule I don’t eat dessert so I passed on the assortment they offered and just had a doppio espresso. The meal took three and one-half hours, too long for me, but it was fun to try it. The service in the dining room was better.

I closed the casino down after dinner and again hit lots of small stuff, no ducks but up a bit for the day and a lot for the cruise. I had been accumulating comp stamps every time I hit a hand pay or entered a tournament and I cashed them in for valuable prizes to give Hunnybear when I returned home. I decided to roll my luggage off the ship so I didn’t need to pack tonight and just went to bed, letting the gentle rocking of the ship lull me to sleep.




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I hope you enjoy my Lion Tales. For photos, past travelogues, subscriptions, and more, see www.liontales.com (http://www.liontales.com)

"...we all thought he spoke excellent English with an almost imperceptible accent. When we went to meet him we found out why: he was from England."

ROFL! http://www.flyertalk.com/forum/smile.gif http://www.flyertalk.com/forum/smile.gif

I'm sorry about your cabin on Sweatshop Deck.

Never tell them who are. Tell them who you think you are.

Great stuff QuietLion. A member of the staff at the Legend of the Seas Purser's Office told me that all desk pursers are trained in how to handle people asking for upgrades. They look at their Folio account to determine if anyone really cares about them. If their folio account indicates that no one really cares about them, and their cabin doesn't have a legitamate problem, no go...

Also, a question, if you don't mind. Did you have to pay the 125% or 150% single surcharge (assuming you had your cabin all to yourself)? If so, was that surcharge based on the lowest fare available, or the super-high brochure price that is double what everyone else pays?

He's back, he's back...thank the lord! More trip reports!!! http://www.flyertalk.com/forum/biggrin.gif

I'm not sure how it was computed but I ended up paying about twice the lowest possible fare for that category of cabin, about $1680.

Well, that explains why you ate all the offerings including the desserts, which you normally don't eat!

Hunting for all those ducks everyday helps burn those calories! Way to go.

Clear broth

I awoke when I sensed the ship stop moving, around 6:15 a.m. Eastern (we had gained an hour the last night). It was still dark but I looked out the porthole and saw we were already docked at Port Everglades. I did some writing, showered, and called United to see if they could get me on an earlier flight back to LA since mine didn’t leave till 12:22. They had an 8:55 but I didn’t think I could make it so I kept what I had. I got a phone call from Arnie saying he would meet me in the Vista Lounge to wait for his group to be called. I packed and found him down there with Gary, Larry, and Claude. I couldn’t believe the week was already over! I’ll never forget the image of Arnie by the pool, face red as Mephistopheles from his lobster tan, grinning devilishly while offering me yet another slice of pizza. I had so much to eat this week I resolved to have nothing but clear broth for the next week.

Arnie and Gary had decided they wanted to take home both Daniel the Butler, for Gary, and Andrea the waitress, for Arnie. Since they were both Romanian they could talk to each other on their days off. We had seen Andrea at breakfast yesterday and asked if she wanted to go to Phoenix but it was not possible because she had to stay on the ship.

I hugged everybody goodbye, except Claude, who gave be a very French double cheek kiss. I took the elevator down one level, and wheeled my luggage uncontested out the gangway. Customs consisted of handing my form to a Princess employee. A cab was waiting and took me the seven minutes to the airport for a flat $10 plus tip. In the cab I called United and saw I could make the 8:55 flight so they confirmed me on it at no extra charge. I got waitlisted for First Class on both legs, checked my whale, and headed for the gate. Three friendly and professional agents were there checking people in. I confirmed I was on the waiting list for First Class and the nice agent said it still looked good. I asked her to consider moving to LA to teach the United employees there how to smile.

I did get upgraded to the Hamlet seat, 2B, on this 727 to Chicago. The stewardess was smashing the ice as I boarded. This was a breakfast flight but the food was not the best. It seemed undercooked, especially the raw bacon perched atop the two slices of ham. The frittata was OK but had weird chunks of potato in it. The best part was a small crepe with orange sauce, but as a whole it was too high in carbs for my taste.

My seat opponent was the Israeli COO of an Internet flower store, www.flowerfarm.com (http://www.flowerfarm.com) , and we talked most of the flight about the future of e-business. He was en route to Tokyo, First Class, so since I had just spent a week with Arnie the Compmeister I asked him to take me as his guest into the lounge and he agreed. We touched down on time and I had an hour till my flight, which meant a half-hour in the lounge. Temperatures were Arctic in Chicago and we all trotted through the unheated Jetway into the terminal as quickly as we could manage.

The First Class lounge was nothing special although they did have some sushi, Pepperidge Farm cookies, and other snacks. I didn’t have any of the free booze because the sun was not yet over the yardarm and the champagne was noticeably missing from the spread, probably because they heard I was coming. I connected to the Internet but couldn’t download my email because my server was down so I just posted it on FlyerTalk and headed through the Gershwin-on-acid tunnel to concourse B.

The unfriendly agent at gate B16 wouldn’t even look at my boarding pass to check if I was on the waitlist for upgrades but just told me to wait. So I waited. A young man rushed to the counter asking about the status of his mother’s employee standby for First Class and the same agent, a little less brusquely, told him he was very busy and would get back to him in a few minutes. Then the other agent called my name. Just my last name. No “please,” “Mr.”, “Passenger,” or any other cordiality. I approached the counter and identified myself. She did not smile or say anything, just started punching buttons. I asked for an aisle seat as close to the front as possible. She continued not smiling and finally handed me a boarding pass for seat 11H, saying, “that’s as far forward as I could get you.”

Flight 117 to Los Angeles was a three-class international 777, which meant I was in business class. I got to my seat and found a crew bag and a leather flight jacket in the overhead bin, which meant they didn’t have enough seats in First Class for all the employees so some of them had to sit in Business with the customers. There was no laptop power or First Suites and the interior was looking a little ratty. The flight attendants came around with menus that showed a choice of turkey or steak au poivre. I couldn’t stomach another overdone United steak and I refuse to eat turkey unless I’m in the final stages of starvation so I special-ordered the lobster fra diavolo. It wasn’t possible so I just had clear broth, with ice, from a Jack Daniels bottle.

Service on this flight was typical for United Business, meaning I had to ring the call button every time I wanted my water glass refilled to interrupt their gabfest in the galley. They were pleasant enough about responding but it would have been nice for someone to make the rounds every 10 minutes or so. The best thing about the personal video systems on these planes was the choice of movies. I watched The Replacements, a fluffy football flick about how third-rate strike replacements actually had more will to win than the professional athletes they replaced. The movie was carried by nice performances by Keanu Reeves and Gene Hackman, who since Walter Matthau died inherited the title of actor I’d most likely pay $8 to watch for two hours as he read a newspaper. After the movie I watched the end of It’s a Wonderful Life, my favorite movie, and bawled my eyes out. Then I watched a nice show on the Discovery Channel about Times Square. I love that channel.

We landed on time in Los Angeles, and even on the good side of the field, but when we got to the gate we had to be towed in and then waited 10 minutes for someone to move the Jetway. Despite that, it still took 25 minutes for our baggage to start coming out. Since mine didn’t have a priority tag it came out toward the front and I wheeled over to the secret place to find Hunnybear waiting for me in the shiny white Pontiac convertible. It was sunny and 75 in Marina del Rey and if they had video poker here there’d be no reason to ever leave.

The end.


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I hope you enjoy my Lion Tales. For photos, past travelogues, subscriptions, and more, see www.liontales.com (http://www.liontales.com)

"so I special-ordered the lobster fra diavolo. It wasn't possible so I just had clear broth, with ice, from a Jack Daniels bottle."

http://www.flyertalk.com/forum/biggrin.gif


[This message has been edited by harold (edited 12-18-2000).]

[This message has been edited by harold (edited 12-18-2000).]

[This message has been edited by harold (edited 12-18-2000).]

[This message has been edited by harold (edited 12-18-2000).]

It a wonderfull life, does it to me every time too, and I'm not the crying kind.

Great report as per normal for you QL.

Thanks.

Stewart.

From the CruiseCritic newsletter


Princess Cruises is quietly abandoning “butler service.” The service, available to passengers inhabiting suites and mini-suites on Grand Princess (as well as those traveling on the occasional exotic voyages on trailblazer ships like Royal Princess, Pacific Princess and Regal Princess) was created to supplement steward responsibilities. The butlers act as in-house concierges, handling shoe shines and making restaurant reservations at alternative eateries (presumably possessing special influence on already booked-up evenings). But, according to Princess spokeswoman Denise Seomin, “passengers didn’t find a need for the service. The interest just wasn’t there.”
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QL,

Another amazing report.

Questions:
1. Was it NOVA?

2. How does the casino compare to other ship's casinos that you have sailed on, re: number of tables, larger casino, etc.?

Thanks, you've made me very hungry for lobster, steak, caesars salad, lox, and blackjack, though not necessarily in that order. And cheesecake of course--I do like those desserts.

bj-21.

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'Tis better to have played and won, then never to have played at all.