Today we walked along the banks of the Seine and then revisited the Louvre. I read somewhere that if you really want to see everything in the Louvre it would take about three months. After navigating it today with the museum map, I would tack on another month just to learn how to avoid getting lost twenty times a day. There are only a few elevators and a million sets of counterintuitive stairs, many of which you have to go up and down numerous times to reach another wing. I am geographically challenged, but Doug is usually spot on. Even he couldn’t figure out the map.

We were lost in the Louvre so long that we missed lunch, so we had a chocolate eclair and a raspberry tart here:

Then tonight we visited the Eiffel Tower for dinner. The Eiffel Tower was spectacular. The meal was okay. What I couldn’t figure out was why the piped in music was the same version of “Theme From A Summer Place” for the three hours we were there. Most are too young to remember, but “A Summer Place” was a B grade movie filmed in 1959. Listen to it only if you are ready for an annoying ear worm.

On a last note, I am unable to figure out how to not make my first picture posted post twice. Tonight it of is of me by the Venus de Milo looking harried.

Sunday, November 5, 2023

Well, it’s once more time to relearn the art of blogging. I have had numerous requests (actually only two requests, but who’s counting?) to write a blog in the same vein as I did when we traveled to Norway in 2018 and New Zealand and Australia in 2020. There’s a reason blog rhymes with slog, because some days one just doesn’t feel like being witty and informative. So at the very least I will strive to be informative with full disclosure that the wit may not always be sparkling. I hope you will get some enjoyment from my latest effort!

Yesterday afternoon at 6 PM we flew out of Atlanta on a direct flight to Paris. Actually we booked the flight on Delta, but the partner for our flight was Air France. Although Delta doesn’t always offer stellar service, we know what kind of comfortable mediocrity to expect. Air France is, well, lacking. Our flight attendant was a bored angsty young French man with a pencil thin mustache who impatiently threw stuff at us and then ran away. Of course, it didn’t really matter because it was late and we were tired, but I did wonder why he seemed so desperately unhappy.

Full disclosure for those of you who haven’t read my blog before: I am an unapologetic eavesdropper. Last night after we boarded the plane, I heard this exchange from the people in the aisle in front of me. They didn’t know each other and were chatting back and forth across the aisle. After short introductions, Passenger 1 (flirty female) asked Passenger 2 (nerdy male) where he was headed. He retorted, “France.” Weird, since we had all just boarded a plane headed to France. Their conversation faltered at that point.

So, we arrived at Charles de Gaulle at the crack of dawn after sleeping about an hour on the plane, came by cab to our hotel, dropped our luggage but couldn’t check in because it was far too early. Then we walked over to the Louvre, which is quite near our hotel. The Louvre is 652,300 square feet, houses over 35,000 objects from prehistory to the 19th century and is the largest museum on earth. To say it is overwhelming is a vast understatement. That vastness, along with our foggy, sleep deprived brains, made our visit there challenging. We will head back there tomorrow and try to better absorb what we are seeing.

Dear All,

Yesterday morning (Wednesday) when we woke up, we were still in Melbourne, much to our surprise. The plan was that our ship would set sail from Melbourne at 10:30 PM Tuesday night and be at sea all day yesterday, arriving in Sydney by 11 AM today. The ship’s captain came on the loud speaker and said there were mechanical issues, as well as inclement weather. Long story short, we left fourteen hours later than we were due and will not get into Sydney until midnight tonight. Our flight is tomorrow morning, so rather disappointingly, we won’t have any time in Sydney. On the bright side, we will make our flight home.

By the way, if it’s seems like I’m on the wrong day above, that’s because we lost Tuesday, February 4th when we crossed the International Date Line. So we lost the 4th, but we will have two February 21sts, both of them this Friday. I looked up the International Date Line and this is what it says: The International Date Line (IDL) is an imaginary line of demarcation on the surface of the earth that runs from the North Pole to the South Pole. It’s imaginary? I thought it was a real red dashed line, didn’t you?

Today they have this huge fancy brunch set out all around the pool deck. Not sure what the occasion is, but it seems like something they cooked up (no pun intended) to make up for not getting us to Sydney in a timely manner.

Tomorrow we will board a plane at 11:20 AM in Sydney and fly a little under fourteen hours to Los Angeles. From there we will fly the fours hours or so to Atlanta.

As the sun sets on our “Great Down Under Adventure,” I can’t help but think that there is so much more we could see here had we the time, patience and money. But, Australia is huge, with large stretches between cities and limited highways. For instance, if you fly into Sydney it’s another 900 miles on to Melbourne. If you want to see Uluru (Ayres Rock) near Alice Springs, it’s another 1400 miles from Melbourne. Australia is not a road trip friendly country.

I am sitting in the front of the ship right now doing my favorite things, reading, writing and eavesdropping. I just heard a guy say, “I could have done with more Australia and less New Zealand.” But, as I just explained to you, that is not really possible. One can’t see Australia this easily and most people don’t want to make the effort to drive or fly all over the country. Also, I loved New Zealand and the people there. If fact, I have enjoyed the entire journey, and I hope you have been able to enjoy a little bit of it with me.

Dear Everyone.

Tonight I wasn’t sure if I could even manage to blog because I was so tired when we arrived back on the ship after a ten hour bus tour. We didn’t spend the entire time on the bus, of course, but it was beginning to feel that way towards the end.

After we left at 8:30 AM this morning, we first stopped at the Healesville Nature Sanctuary and finally got to see at least two Australian marsupials: kangaroos and koalas. The wombats seemed to be on holiday and the Tasmanian Devils were too far of a walk for the time we were allotted. Actually, we might have had enough time had we been able to stop gaping at the kangaroos and koalas.

After the Sanctuary, we went to the Rochford Winery for another wine and cheese tasting, plus lunch. This winery was larger than the one in Tasmania; they had a huge green and a concert stage. Elton John played there last and Adele will be playing there March 14th. No pictures here because it was raining off and on.

By the time we reached our final stop, it was pouring rain. Because the car park was being reconstructed, we walked a ways down to a tiny train station to board the “Puffing Billy,” a vintage small gauge train. I was dismayed to find that we were boarding an open air train with wet benches and rain blowing in on us. As usual, I was ill equipped for a monsoon. Our tour guide said it would be an “adventure.” I’m sure everyone knows how I feel about “adventures,” but in for a penny, in for a pound. We decided to make the best of it by taking a selfie of our abject misery.

Note to readers: Trying to look miserable makes me laugh.

Note to self: It never hurts to have a rain poncho at the ready.

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Usually on these tours we have both a bus driver and a tour guide who has a microphone and rattles on about local history and so forth. Today, I thought the bus driver and the tour guide were going to come to fisticuffs over which route to take out of the city, which route to take to the Sanctuary and which route to take back into the city. I mean they discussed it ad nauseam. When we were on our way to the Sanctuary, the tour guide forced the bus driver into going his way. So, we made a wrong turn and had to make a u turn on a narrow road in a tour bus, with another tour bus following us, whose driver also had to make the same u turn! Now that was a tense moment. Our driver was less than pleased. If those two were any indication, people here must talk about traffic, distances and which way to turn all of the flipping time.

Ann’s Eavesdroppers’ Corner:

After visiting the Sanctuary, I just happened to overhear a lady saying, “I thought the animals would be more in the wild.” “As in, not in a sanctuary?,” I asked. No, I didn’t, really. Just wanted to see if anyone is still reading.

Dear All,

We are once more at sea, which makes for pretty difficult going on the blogging front. But I must persevere.

You all know that Doug wears golf caps, but what you may not know is that golf caps are a major conversation starter with other guys. At least once a day, some random guy comes up to him and says, “Titleist, hey? Do you play?” This invariably leads to a conversation of where they play, how much they play and when they last played. On this trip, Doug’s golf caps have been responsible for introducing us to people from Pawleys Island, Mt. Pleasant, Charleston and Greenville, South Carolina.

I have tried to get a fix on the architecture in New Zealand and Australia, but it seems there is no one specific style. Aside from some Victorian houses of the early settlers (like the sea captain’s house we saw yesterday) and the Art Deco of the later settlers, most of the houses are quite contemporary looking—think modern art gallery or drive through bank—with great stretches of large pane-less windows that don’t seem to have drapery or shades of any sort. It almost seems like a Mid Century Modern style, but both older and newer houses are built in this manner. Sometimes I get the feeling it’s still about 1958 here. See examples:

New Zealand and Australia have a rather large lumber industry. Unlike ports of call on say a Caribbean cruise, all of the ports we have visited are working ports, usually with large stacks of containers and logs all about. Our tour guides usually say the logs are being shipped to China and then go on to assure us that since trees grow so quickly to maturity here (20-25 years), there are no worries about stripping the land of trees. But somehow I am always leery when everyone keeps assuring me that something is so.

Tonight they are having a big to do with a BBQ and then “Dancing Under the Stars” with a live band on the main pool deck. The pool can either be an indoor pool or an outdoor pool, depending on the weather, due to a giant skylight roof that slides back and forth on tracks. Every event involves moving scads of chairs and tables, setting up the band and sound system, setting up food attractively in various places, etc. And then they have to move everything back! It seems a master feat to have a party for 900 people every couple of days, but they do it.

Dear All,

Today we went on a bus tour in Tasmania, which is actually an island state of Australia. Aborigines were the indigenous peoples, but the arrival of Europeans almost wiped out all 7,000 of them on the island due to warfare and the introduction of diseases they were not immune to. The few Aborigines who were left were rounded up and sent to Flinders Island.

Tasmania was settled permanently by the British in 1803 as a penal colony and originally called Van Diemen’s Land. Approximately 75,000 convicts were shipped there before transportation ended in 1853. Our tour guide, Daphne (not really her name, but it’s fitting), assured us that these convicts were not hardened criminals and they were not slaves. Of course, these same people would be her ancestors, so she seemed a little “Me thinks the lady doth protest too much” to me. The convicts built all of the roads, bridges, homes, churches and public buildings. They were indentured for seven years and then were free, but had no way to actually get back to England. So, anyway, Daphne. Beautiful buildings, though.

Our first stop today was at a small, family owned winery called Puddleduck. There are about 300 wineries in Tasmania and they produce mostly Pinot Noir, Riesling, Shiraz, Chardonnay and Pinot Gris. We were given tastes of about five of the wines they make (teeny-tiny tastes) and served crackers with locally made cheese. They also had a super weird gift shop where they sold everything ducky—rubber ducks, stuffed ducks, wood ducks, metal ducks. You get the picture. Below is a pic of grapevines (they cover the vines with netting to keep birds from eating the grapes):

After that we stopped in a sweet little town named Richmond, which was packed with revelers. Daphne either didn’t know or didn’t say what was going on, but it seemed to be some sort of a Scottish festival. The guys in the kilts were my first clue.

Our last stop was at Runnymede House in Hobart where our ship was docked. You are probably asking yourself, what is Runnymede House? Well, it’s a “beautifully restored whaling captain’s house built in 1840” according to the literature. It was quite beautifully restored, but I now know more than I ever wanted to know about Captain Dayley and his extended family, James, Anna Marie, Emma, Susan, John and all of the other Dayley’s who inhabited the house at one time or the other. Enough said.

Hi to All,

My blogging morale sort of fell apart yesterday. We were all day at sea with no land in sight, no pictures and no comments at all on my last absorbing blog, which I honestly thought was comment worthy. But, I won’t be discouraged—onward and upward!

With so much time on my hands, I have been reading Bill Bryson’s “In a Sunburned Country,” his travel commentary about Australia. I am about 2/3 of the way through the book and he has already made three trips to Australia because it’s such a time consuming thing to see all of it. The United States and Australia are about the same size, but Australia only has about 22 million people while the US has more like 316 million. So, needless to say, there is a lot of empty space with no decent roads in Australia, which makes it quite hard to travel in comprehensively. Road trips take on a whole new meaning!

This ship, the Viking Orion, is relatively small as far as cruises go—about 950 people on board. Since this is a smaller ship, they have a lot of special lunch and dinner events. Yesterday it was grilled Cuban sandwiches and today it was Italian with freshly made pasta. One day it was Caesar Salad with grilled shrimp, salmon or halibut. One can get something to eat on this ship anytime from 6:30 AM to 12 PM, which is handy if one happens to be a glutton.

Tomorrow we will be in Tasmania. The only thing I really know about Tasmania is that they have an animal there called the Tasmanian Devil, which is now an endangered species. And probably the only reason I knew that is because of the Looney Tunes character, Taz.

I have only one eavesdropping event to report. The other night we were waiting for our reservation at a specialty restaurant on the ship (meaning fancy stuff with a mile long description). As we were standing there, this tiny little man, who I probably had at least 9 inches and 40 pounds on, came racing out of the restaurant, looked right at us and spit out disgustedly, “They only have French wines in this restaurant! Unbelievable! I’m leaving.” Then he raced off. So, is there a group of wine aficionados who detest French wines? I think I must be missing something. Oh, and on a side note, it doesn’t cost extra to eat at this restaurant and wines are complimentary, so no one was forcing him to drink French wine.

Dear Everyone,

We are at sea all day tomorrow and to quite be truthful, I am looking forward to a day of just hanging out—no buses, trains, 4X4s, taxis, speed boats, or trams.

Today we rode on the Dunedin train through the Taieri River Gorge. The weather was lovely all day, but it started to drizzle on the way down, and it turned cloudy and cold—about 55 degrees. I know 55 isn’t that cold, but we thought it would be hot since it’s the middle of the summer here, so we brought only hot weather clothes. Doug has already gone shopping to buy a long-sleeved shirt and a windbreaker. I have one jacket and one sweater with me, and they are getting quite a workout.

As we sailed out of port tonight, someone spotted a gaggle (group?) of the Southern Royal Albatross. Albatross have a wing span of up to eight feet and have been known to fly 10,000 miles at a time. It was too far away and too rainy to take a picture, so I found a couple:

“Water, water everywhere and

All the boards did shrink

Water, water everywhere, nor any drop to drink”

The Rime of the Ancient Mariner

Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Ann’s Eavesdroppers’ Corner

At the beginning of our four wheel drive trip yesterday, a lady completely freaked out because there was a bee on the bus. All of the sudden, she jumped up and screamed, “We have a major problem! There’s a bee on this bus and I’m allergic!” Then she ran off the bus sneaking looks behind her like someone was chasing her. On her way out, one hapless guy said, “It’s in a web” (I took that to mean it was dead), and she yelled in a kind of mean voice, “I don’t care where it is. I’m deathly allergic!”

So, the tour guide got the dead bee out of the bus and told her it was all clear. I heard him ask if she had an Epipen. Reasonable question, right? But she snottily said, “No, I don’t have one with me” like the guy was a complete idiot for asking. So, we are on a four wheel drive trip seeing the back country far away from any medical care and this woman didn’t bring an Epipen for her deadly bee allergy? Does this sound like a smart move to you?

But the bee saga gets even dumber. The guy sitting in front of me (let’s call him John) said that his father was very allergic to bee stings, but John has not been tested because the allergist said that the test could kill him. (Huh?) So, John concluded that he doesn’t know whether he is allergic to bee stings or not. The guy John was talking to asked, “Have you ever been stung by a bee?” John’s answer: “Yes a couple of times but it didn’t really affect me.”

Dear All,

Greetings from Christchurch! It was another day of perfect weather here—around 66 degrees and sunny. The tour we were on today was called the “High Country Explorer.” The first part was a bus ride through Christchurch to get to the Southern Alps (that’s what they call them) with the bus driver, Kris, providing commentary. You probably remember that Christchurch had two fairly large earthquakes, the first in 2010 and the second in 2011. I looked it up when I got back to the ship, and earthquakes are a fairly common occurrence here. In fact, in the last five years, they have had thousands of them from magnitudes of 1.1 to 6.2. Seems a bit iffy.

The second part was a fairly tame 4X4 vehicle drive through the mountains. Lovely scenery.

Finally, we boarded a super-fast jet boat (I read that part in the literature a bit too late), driven by a crazed New Zealand maniac. We commenced speeding up the Waimakariri River, often careening dangerously close to the steep-walled gorge or alternately, perilously close to the gravel bars in the middle or on the sides of the river. These boats need about four feet of water to get going, but then at full speed can skim across water that is only about four inches deep. Since it’s so shallow, it often seemed as if we were going to run up on a gravel bank and be flipped out of the boat. And just to make it more exciting, our crazed boat driver did a number of 360 degree turns that would almost knock us out of the boat, with an aftershock of having 45 degree water splashed all over us. Sometimes it’s hard to draw the line between what’s fun and what’s just plain terrifying. This was one of those times.

Who Knew? Kind of Fun Fact for the Day:

The Waimakariri is a braided river. A braided river or braided channel, consists of a network of river channels, separated by small, often temporary islands, called braid bars. Our tour guide said that braided rivers are only in New Zealand, Alaska and Nepal.

What the heck? No wonder I thought we were in imminent danger! If I had known what a braided river really was, I wouldn’t have set foot in that super-fast jet boat.

Dear All,

Today we are in Wellington, the capitol of New Zealand. Wellington is located at the southern tip of North Island. Tomorrow we head to Christchurch, which is on the South Island. If you aren’t sure of the geography of New Zealand, see map below:

This afternoon we took a bus to the Zealandia Eco Sanctuary. When the settlers came here in the mid 1800’s, they introduced mammals like pigs, dogs, rats, rabbits and of course, the detestable possum. Apparently, this wreaked havoc on the original New Zealand bush and wildlife because until then, most of the birds and so forth did not have many natural enemies. So, twenty years ago, conservationists built an impervious fence around about 500 acres close to Wellington, and are reintroducing many species of wildlife that were extinct, largely birds.

Are you bored yet? I kind of was. But it was actually cool to see what the bush would have looked like before all the slash and burn agriculture.

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For those of you who have read my previous blogs, you know I have both pleasant and not so pleasant experiences with my fellow tourees and tour guides. Today’s experiences:

So, we saw a movie at the beginning of our Zoolander, I mean Zealandia, experience. It showed the indigenous animals like the Moa, a flightless bird who became extinct in about 1445 when they were hunted by the Maori. The Moa was approximately 12 feet tall and weighed about 500 pounds. The whole point of the movie was how many animals/birds were hunted and preyed upon to the point of extinction. They showed CGI (Julie taught me this lingo—Computer Generated Imagery) of the Moa that looked somewhat like the picture below:

So, after the movie, one guy asked our tour guide if the Moa is extinct. Really, dude? Have you seen any prehistoric 500 pound 12 foot high flightless birds around lately? What a dumb ass. (Sorry, Mom.)

Also, another weird moment. At the end of the apparently super realistic movie, our tour guide, Aux (or Ox?) asked us to check our purses and backpacks for lizards, rats or mice before we went into the area with the impervious fence, because nothing like that can be introduced to the inner eco sanctuary. And Aux/Ox was dead serious! So, just to play his little kooky game, I checked. Thankfully, I was transporting none of the above in my Baggallini (translation: tiny purse).