Already in Progress

Had a bit of a pause there, since we spent three days at sea. We passed through the Indian Ocean, the Java Sea and are now in the South China Sea. Though they blend seamlessly on maps, I can see why each is considered a distinct body of water. The Indian Ocean was choppy and deep blue. The South China Sea is smooth and a different shade of deep blue. The Java Sea was the most fun, since it was a beautiful smooth green/turquoise. We passed many islands (one with what looked like at least 10 miles of white sand), we saw dolphins and flying fish and many small fishing boats manned by one fisherman.

We crossed the equator two days ago, and though the ship’s staff joked that it was a wide yellow line that jolts the ship like a speed bump (not to be confused with the international dateline, a thinner blue line that barely ripples passengers’ drinks), we didn’t notice anything much. We passed Krakatoa in the wee hours and Jeff was the only one who saw it. In honor of the equator crossing, the crew did a stomach-turning ceremony that included King Neptune and Queen Neptune as judge and jury ordering copious condiments smeared all over “convicted” participants who “walked the plank” (jumped into the main pool.) to assure our safe passage. I’m sorry, I’m forgetting that they also threw enormous livers and bones and sausages and black beans into the drink as well. Being warm, the pool heated up its contents rapidly and smelled horrible within minutes. Another notable event: I sunburned my arms – including the inner creases of my elbows, which have never been sunburned ever – AGAIN. In only 30 minutes spent watching said ceremony. Oh Coppertone, how you have let me down.

We arose early yesterday to watch our entrance into Singapore Harbor, which is the busiest port in the world, and it didn’t disappoint. There were many ships at anchor in the winding waterway, and many others traveling in front of, behind, and adjacent to ours. Somebody has a stranglehold on the copious tug business in the harbor – all the tugs were named Noble Something: Noble Reliance, Noble Ace, etc. We berthed in the container portion of the port, which was a scene to behold: mammoth green cranes lurked everywhere. They rolled on tracks and stacked tractor-trailer sized containers like they were tinker toys onto huge container ships.

The weather was fine when we debarked, but by the time we got downtown and made our way to Little India, it was raining hard. Though Singapore is apparently a shopper’s paradise – an opinion bolstered by the glut of sterile shopping malls everywhere - we sightsee with our stomachs, so we followed our noses to the hawker stalls. Despite getting a little wet and being distracted by restaurant names like “Food Joint” and stores named “Superfund,” we finally arrived at the good eats. I counted one other white person in the entire place, which meant we’d found where the natives like to dine.

What a place for a birthday lunch (we were in Singapore for my birthday – thanks, Mom and Dad, for sending that birthday greeting. Via telepathy that is – did you get to Florida all right?? You can’t possibly be as pressed for internet time as we are). One could choose from roti with chicken curry sauce for dipping, any flavor of lassi one could think of, a zillion fresh fruit juices, biryanis of all types, fritter flavors that included cuttlefish, and many other dishes all served on banana leaves. Delectable, every bite, and conveniently certified safe by the dictatorial Singapore government. Even though the place was noisy and filled with vendors trying to convince you that their dish was the tastiest, it had some organization. We chose a numbered table, then walked around telling vendors what was desired. Give the table number, then sit and wait. Each one brings the dish when it’s finished and you pay on the spot. We sat right next to the roti fellow, who displayed extremely practiced sleight of hand in turning a round dough ball the size of an egg into a sheet about 18 inches wide that you could read a newspaper through - all in about 20 seconds. We have a picture of me flipping one on the griddle (it’s amazing how nice they are when you say it’s your birthday – my recommendation is make every day your birthday and see where that takes you). When we finally acquire some reasonable internet time, I’ll post the picture (along with others).

Since it was raining so hard, we saved Chinatown for our trip back through at the end of the month, and took a cab to the cable cars (the cabbie, when he found out where we were from, said, “Obama better get started picking up the pieces”). We rode the cable cars up Mt. Faber and across to Sentosa Island – this last is like Singapore’s theme park. On Sentosa, one can go to the zoo, the water park, the Jurong Bird Park, etc. Let us save you some money when you visit Singapore: skip the cable cars. Here’s what we saw: tree tops. A very very large parking lot (yes, there was a scintillating variety of vehicles, but I hear walkthroughs are free!!). A gargantuan construction site. Anybody care to hazard what they are building on Sentosa? Yes, that’s right: a shopping center. Doesn’t anybody do anything but shop in Singapore? Well, besides eating, that is. Eating in shopping centers, to be precise.

We’re at sea again en route to Vietnam, where we – gasp – signed up for a tour into Ho Chi Minh City. We dock in a very remote port and weren’t assured of local transport, so we bit and paid the exorbitant price for guaranteed transportation. I think it’s the first time ever we’ve tagged along on an organized tour. I refuse, however, to wear a sticker identifying me as a clueless rube, so they better not try to make me. In our defense, we paid for the transport only – once in the city, we sightsee on our own. Then we move on to Cambodia and Thailand, where we debark and are – whimper - on our own. I think they’ll drag Laura down the gangway kicking and screaming. What??? No buffet?? No pool?? What kind of hell have I entered???

I, on the other hand, am looking forward to being on some of those tropical isles we passed.