Separate Starts Seeking Cincinnati

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We awoke in the morning, and gave our mothers a wake-up call. Our bags had been taken off during the night. When we put ours out near the midnight deadline, our hallway was already empty. The bags had already started to litter the halls as early as the previous afternoon. We made our way up to the Lido, and I’m happy to say, none of us needed to have the shower curtain draped around us, because we weren’t the ones on every cruise that pack of ALL of their clothes. I decided to try an omelet, while the girls settled for French toast. The Lido was a zoo, and we settled for a table in one of the middle end sections, between the port and starboard sections. We had gotten our statements, and everything seemed to be in order, but we hadn’t received our $100 shipboard credit, for owning 100 shares of Carnival Stock. I inquired about this, and was given a customer service contact number. I was hoping this might offset some of the recent stock moves, in the face of some of the negative publicity for Carnival. At least it wasn’t a Carnival vessel that caught fire in the Caribbean early in our cruise; but, as for how the stock behaved this week, it might as well have been.





We were in the Green-3 group for disembarking between 8:00am and 8:15am. This went smoothly, and we quickly found all of our bags in the luggage retrieval area; but, all of the porters were busy helping get the bags off the ship when I went to find one. A few did show up and I nabbed one that wasn’t already engaged. He loaded our bags and we went got in the passport control line. It was about then that I realized that my passport was in my carry-on, which had now disappeared with the porter. He was nowhere to be found, and we were at the front of the passport control entry point. I explained what I’d done, and Sharon offered to go get my passport, but the border agent said that would not be necessary. He asked me where I was born, then where I went to high school, and then what my high school mascot was (that took me a bit to remember). After I’d answered each of these, he smiled at Sharon and said, “You see, you can’t fake that.” We found our porter, and we got the bags moved to the Number-2 pickup point. After waiting just a short while, I spotted the van from the Fairfield Inn, and waved at the driver. He had to drive towards the ship before turning back on our side of the barrier, and pulled up near us. It was about ten minutes before our scheduled pickup time, and we were happy to get in the bus. It looked like we were ready to go, when three more people showed up. I moved to the back, so an older woman could sit in my seat, which was easier to get in than the rear. Then a young woman sat next to me in the rear, making three people on a rear bench for three. Her husband than slipped in and sat on the floor between the seat edges and the right side of the van. He didn’t look comfortable, and it is a twenty minute drive to the airport, with quite a few bumps. The shocks on the van also weren’t that great when fully loaded like it was, but he didn’t complain (much). We were dropped off at the first stop for rental cars and Alaska Airlines. My mom and I said good-bye to Sharon and her mom, and wished them a safe drive, as my mom would be flying home on Alaska Airlines, and I would be flying home to Cincinnati on Delta much later in the day. Sharon was renting a car, and driving her mother back to the Portland area where her mother lives. She would then be flying back to Seattle, where, as luck would have it, she would join me for my 11pm flight to Cincinnati.



The check-in for Alaska Airlines was set-up similar to the way it was at LAX. We got her bag checked in, and had a few hours before her 12:30pm flight. We then went down to the baggage claim area to search for the luggage storage service that Sharon assured me would be there. We went down the elevator to the Baggage Claim, and found Ken’s Baggage and Frozen Food Storage between Carousels 12 and 13. For about $9 they stored my large suitcase, leaving me with just my carry-on. We then made our way back up to ticketing, and I checked with the Alaskan Air agent (I know, I should have done this when my mother checked her bag in). I asked about escorting my mother to her gate. She said that wouldn’t be a problem and issued me a standby-boarding pass for my mother’s flight. Clearing security a bit after nine in the morning took quite a while; but, we finally did. Then, we followed the signs to the N-Gates, wound up on an underground tram, and quickly found our way to my mother’s gate. We had about two hours before it would be time for her to board. The time passed pretty quickly. I called Ron to make sure that he’d received my earlier e-mail giving my mother’s itinerary. He had. My mother boarded with those who are elderly and needing extra time and her flight departed on schedule. I decided to get lunch at the nearby Burger King, enjoyed the burger and most of all, the Dr. Pepper. HAL’s soft drink choices are pretty much anything you want as long as it’s Coke, sort of like Henry Ford who used to say you can get your car in any color you want, as long as it’s black.



Someone in ticketing had told me that Delta flew out of the S-Terminal, and from the monitors, I saw that flights were coming in there. I made my way back to the tram area, and from a map showing the Seattle Airport layout, I saw that the C, D and N terminals were on one tram loop. The A, B and S terminals were on a different tram loop. There was also a third, back-and-forth tram that connected between one of the terminals in each of the loops. So I had three tram rides to get to terminal S. This could be fun for someone with limited time to transfer between flights. I got to the Delta area and found one of their automated boarding pass machines, and quickly got my boarding pass. There was also a convenient telephone for help, so I called and asked how far ahead of a flight can a bag be checked in… I was told six hours. So I had a minimum of five hours to kill, before I should retrieve my bag and check it in. I looked around for the Delta Sky Club, instead found a Terminal Directory, and located it on the next level up. I took the stairs, because I saw the sign saying this way to the Sky Club; indeed, no elevators in the terminal will get you there. I used my complimentary one-day pass that I got when I signed up for my Delta Sky Miles American Express Card, and I would get my full money’s worth today. Among the amenities of the Delta Sky Club are super clean restrooms, complete with a room to shower and/or change clothes in (with complimentary towels), a staffed bar offering complimentary drinks, water and snacks, free Wi-Fi, and plenty of multiple outlets for charging laptops and cellphones. There were plenty of comfortable places to sit and read or rest. I chose a spot along a side wall and camped out with Sharon’s laptop, recharged my cell phone, and began working on the blog. I got a Coke when I got thirsty and later some ice water.



Sharon was making progress, from the texts that I was receiving, they picked up the car, they were on their way, and they stopped at Red Robin. When I opened up the laptop, I had a momentary panic-attack as the photographs that we had just purchased were not there. I texted Sharon, hoping that she had them; but, she said that she did not. Okay, now it was more than a momentary panic-attack. All I could do is hope it was in my bag checked with Ken’s Baggage. The hours flew by, and Sharon texted after reaching her mother’s place that she had found all of the pictures, not just the ones for her mom. I was becoming absorbed in writing the blog, the hours were passing, and it was nearing the time for me to retrieve and check my bag. I decided to wait until 6pm before starting that ordeal. Unfortunately, this time coincided with Sharon’s approaching flight at 7pm, and I had missed a couple of texts and she was unable to reach me on the telephone. I had gone to the restroom and left my phone behind to charge. I did get her third call when I was en route to fetch my bag; but, I could tell she was a bit passed concerned at not being able to reach me. My bad. I got my bag and made my way to the Delta baggage check-in. This went smoothly, and at this time in the evening, clearing security was a breeze. I made my way back to the S-Terminal, which I’ve since learned is the “Satellite” Auxiliary Terminal (so I wonder what the “N” terminal stands for). I opted for dinner at the Runway Grill, enjoyed another Dr. Pepper and a very good grilled chicken with bacon and cheese sandwich. I went back to the Delta Sky Club. My pass is good for 24-hours and at any Sky Club; it needs only a boarding pass for that day to be used. I went to meet Sharon at our gate at about 9pm, and she was already there. It was turning into a long day for her, and it was only half over. She decided to get a chicken sandwich at the Runway Grill with some French Fries and a Coke. She didn’t want to after her long hike from the other side of the airport, but she finally did come up to the Delta Sky Club. I had two passes for it, so we used it to enter. They’d expire at the end of the year anyway, so this probably made the best use of it. And she did make use of the free Wi-Fi. We boarded without incident, me first in Zone 1 because of my Delta Sky Miles Card, and her later in Zone 3. Although the flight wasn’t full, our row was full with Sharon in the Middle. If she’d have reserved a Window Seat, we’d probably wound up with nobody between us. We’d thought that our problems travelling together were behind us when the Captain came over the PA and announced that our departure would be delayed a bit while the maintenance crew worked on the water system. We gave each other that “Oh no, not again” look. Years ago, Sharon was on a flight where people had to change planes because the coffee machine wasn’t working, so I feared that this wasn’t good. About five minutes later, the Captain announced that the problem had been fixed and we would be on our way. I don’t remember much about the flight after wheels up; I slept most of the way to Ohio. Sharon did wake me once because she needed to go back to the lavatory. But it was quickly back to sleep when she returned. Sharon lived up to her mantra that she can’t sleep on planes; although, I think she caught a few winks on our flight back from Argentina in January. We came through the clouds, and landed in Kentucky (yes, the Cincinnati airport is actually in Kentucky). I drove home in Sharon’s Subaru Forester. She took a two hour nap once we got home, and then headed in for her Team Meeting which she had rescheduled from CVG airport to be two hours later. She made it through the day barely, helped some by the Whopper, fries and frozen Coke that I brought her for lunch.



Later when I talked to my mom, telling her of our safe if not prolonged arrival home, she told me that this had been the best vacation that she’d ever had. That, for me, made this whole trip worth so much more than what I hoped it be. My mom had arrived home over a dozen hours ahead of us. And Ron and Linda were waiting for her in the Terminal 6 Baggage Claim at LAX. Sharon said her mom had talked to Sharon’s sister Erin, and said that she knows she had a good time, but couldn’t remember any details other than my mom drinks a lot of wine. Well she did finish off that one bottle the first night, and we kidded her about it the rest of the cruise, and I’m thinking that might be what Shirley remembers because she was kidding my mom as well. The fact of the matter is, we bought three bottles of Pinot Noir using Sharon’s discount for 4-stars. Shirley and I each shared one or two glasses out of each bottle with my mom (maybe just one-half glass each that first night) when the bottle was opened for dinner. And the remainder is what my mom consumed before bed. The remainder from dinner for those second and third bottles lasted her the remaining six nights. All in all, I think Sharon would agree we’re both so glad that we took this trip with our mothers, and that we all had such a very good time. Yes, this trip had its occasions when we had those “What were we thinking?” moments; but now, safely back home, and our mothers easily survived a week cooped up in a cabin with each other. Sharon’s worst fear that we would spend one week at sea, each sharing a cabin with our mothers, never came close to materializing. They seemed to resolve whatever tensions there might have been with that now famous pillow-fight, or from an extra glass of wine or two.



As I finish up the blog for this trip, two days have passed since we returned home. I slept right through Sharon’s early departure for work on Tuesday, she hoping to make up the time she missed on Monday, and I nearly did so again today. The alarm clock somehow got reset while we were gone, so it hasn’t gone off yet since we’ve been home, and no one’s bothered to set it again. Unusual that none of the other electrical devices needed resetting; although, our housekeeper may have taken care of the clocks in the kitchen when she was here while we were gone. Sharon’s giving me grief for not getting up to see her off for work, and will sorely need a vacation to get over the one she’s just had. The way I see it, sleeping in after a vacation is one of the benefits of being retired. When filling out the “How Much Do You Love HAL?” questionnaire at the end of the cruise, Sharon was chagrinned when answering the question “When do you think you might sail with HAL again?” She realized that our answer was “12 to 24 months”, when she’s almost always got another trip planned within a year. Next year of course is our trip with Viking River Cruises in China. During Drew’s spiel during the disembarkation talk, he told how everyone working for HAL strives very hard to score “9” on this “1 to 9” scale. He noted, “On one cruise, a guest marked down ‘1’ for every single question. We at HAL, read each one of these surveys, and every score under ‘9’ cuts like a knife.” Drew continued with a wry smile, “Later, I had the opportunity to ask that guest, Dad, why did you mark down number ‘1’ for every question.” His father supposedly replied, “Son, you’ll always be number one to us!” Now I’m not sure if that’s good or bad, I’m just saying…



Last night I finally did start getting to feel like things were getting back to normal, and maybe by the weekend I’ll be fully recovered. I managed to get to the store and get some much needed food, and even remembered to take my car in for its 60,000 service that I’d scheduled before we left. I had dinner ready when Sharon got home, including one of her favorites a baked potato. Beside the potato was a piece of meat that she did not recognize, and she asked “What is it?” I simply said, “Try it, you’ll like it.” Concern was rising in her voice as she asked again, “John, What is it?” “It will melt in your mouth, you can cut it with a fork,” I showed her, saying this time more affirmatively, “You’ll love it.” Sharon was wielding her knife now, poised ready to cut something, I think the steak on her plate, “But what is it?” she said in ‘that’ tone that demands an answer. I could only think of Ron’s comment at the start of this vacation, now transposing it as ‘that tone’ that ‘that woman’ has. I said “Orka steak,” under my breath, not thinking that Sharon would hear all that clearly. I hear the knife drop, and she demanded “What did you say?” and I knew darn well that she had heard perfectly well what I had uttered. I could picture full well what she might have been imagining, wondering what else I might have picked up from “Ken’s Luggage and Frozen Food Storage” in Seattle. I thought it was time to come clean and admit it was nothing more than a pork tenderloin steak that I’d picked up at our local butcher shop “Greg’s Meats”. That was enough for her to skeptically try a piece, which she admitted was pretty darn good, and it did melt in your mouth as I had said. Who would have thought that Orca tasted like pork, anyhow? Usually oddball things taste like chicken.

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