One of the unique thrills of sailing on Seabourn’s little sisters is their ability to squeak through the tall, narrow Corinth Canal that cuts through Greece’s Peloponnese. Seabourn Spirit did it recently, and guests took the opportunity to line up at the ship’s bow to watch from there.
In the slot: Seabourn Spirit starts through the canal.
Guest Bloggers Adam McCulloch and Emma Sloley are married travel writers based in New York. Originally from Australia, they moved to the U.S. in 2004. They have traveled to over 60 countries and written for a wide range of publications, including Travel + Leisure, Condé Nast Traveler, New York magazine, Gotham, Gourmet Traveller, Coastal Living, Reader’s Digest and Outside. Adam and Emma are sending us stories and pictures daily from their 14-day voyage aboard Seabourn Odyssey between Rome and Venice. Come by and read their blogs often.
Wide Awake:
We’ve seen a lot of water pass beneath our keel and been seduced by the ocean’s many moods. At times it had been silken and seductive; at others it turned pewter gray and unyielding. Some days it danced and sparkled like a glo-mesh dress. There were occasions when the ship’s wake with its flurry of whitecaps resembled Hokusai’s iconic print The Great Wave off Kanagawa, and others when it looked black and unfathomable. The ship’s wake also provided an endless pattern on which to meditate or just bliss out.
Wishing you fair winds and following seas.
Guest Bloggers Adam McCulloch and Emma Sloley are married travel writers based in New York. Originally from Australia, they moved to the U.S. in 2004. They have traveled to over 60 countries and written for a wide range of publications, including Travel + Leisure, Condé Nast Traveler, New York magazine, Gotham, Gourmet Traveller, Coastal Living, Reader’s Digest and Outside. Adam and Emma are sending us stories and pictures daily from their 14-day voyage aboard Seabourn Odyssey between Rome and Venice. Come by and read their blogs often.
Day 13 – May 10, Rab Island, Croatia: The Day the Ship Stood Still
After 12 days on Seabourn Odyssey and 2,132 nautical miles sailed, rhythms, routines and rituals become woven into the fabric of onboard life.
This is our day: we collect take-out lattes from the coffee bar in Seabourn Square, sit in the same seats at breakfast, have lunch at the Colonnade, ignore the gym (and feel guilty about it), miss the lecture (and feel guilty about it, too), have champagne and caviar in the Observation Bar before heading to dinner and a show, then retiring to bed and trying yet again to watch The Hobbit.
We have found great comfort in these rhythms and the fact that our drinks will be waiting for us, just as we like them, when we reach the bar. So much so that they have anchored our days cruising the Mediterranean. And we know other guests have these same rituals, or ones of their own.
One couple stake out the same lounge chairs on the same side of the pool deck (a reality show called Deck Chair Wars is surely overdue), while another pair are rigid in their 7 p.m. dirty martini ritual. There’s a man we see often leaning on the railing at dusk, gazing out to sea like Gatsby looking for that green light. Another couple from Toronto told us they had gotten in the habit of having champagne sent to their room each evening so they could raise a toast from their balcony to one adventure slipping away on another on the horizon. (Two guests we overheard had devised a novel solution: just never leave. Yes, they were approaching their 140th day of cruising the world. Now that’s one hell of a routine.)
We might wake up every morning to a different panorama outside our stateroom window, but inside things stay deeply, hypnotically, the same. Routines anchor us, in the nicest way.
The Family Jewels:
King Edward VIII did more than reject wearing the crown: he sometimes eschewed clothing altogether. When he and his wife, Wallis Simpson, went skinny-dipping in the waters off Rab Island in the 1930s, they couldn’t have known that they were to start a trend that endures to this day. And while today’s weather wasn’t quite swimming weather, alas, we hear that the stunning emerald coves of Rab Island have become famous for clothing optional swimming. Well, it’s one way to sell a lot of sunscreen.
Emma and Adam enjoy the Croatian island of Rab:
Day 14, May 11 – Piran, Slovenia
Lamborghinis. Lear jets. Acres of bling. That’s not just our Christmas wish list, by the way. All those things happen to be sought-after status symbols in today’s marketplace of aspiration. But signifiers of wealth and power don’t stay static. One era’s meh can be the next era’s must-have; one moment a certain look, foodstuff or possession might be de rigueur, the next it’s shoved aside for something ever more fabulous.
Take the lobster, for example. Our beloved clawed delicacies were once used as field fertilizer by 18th century farmers, as our menu at the restaurant the other night helpfully informed us. There were even laws forbidding “wanton mistreatment” of servants by feeding them lobster more than twice a week. Similarly caviar. While in Baku recently, an Azeri acquaintance mentioned that when he was growing up, his mother fed him and his siblings with caviar spread inches thick on white bread.
On the other end of the scale, salt, a seasoning so common we don’t even notice it sitting on the table at every meal, was once a prized commodity, especially in the town we landed today, Piran, where salt flats were a huge driver of the local economy during the Venetian Empire. (Salt was so important, soldiers were paid their wages in the white stuff, hence the expression, “not worth his salt.”) Today our guide explained that young Slovenians men prize German luxury cars so much that they will save every cent they have to buy one, then spend the next ten years eating potatoes and living in their parents’ basement. Hey, no one said keeping up with the Krajncs was going to be easy.
Status symbols aren’t always material things, either. Tattoos can signify qualities like power, high rank and bravery, while in some societies, beauty and rank can be gleaned from the amount of neck rings or intricate scars one sports. Eras in which working outside and being underfed were the sole domain of the lower classes, pale and portly were considered the height of status.
Still, some status symbols do endure. Magnificent horseflesh is just as prized today as it was back in the days of the Austro-Hungarian empire. Just as today’s billionaires like to show off their thoroughbred racehorses, so too the Hapsburgs were mightily proud of their Lipizzaners, the beautiful white Andalusian dressage horses that have been bred in Lipica, Solvenia, since the 1500s. We witnessed these gracious and lovely creatures today at the Lipica Stud Farm: suited to both battle and ballet, there’s something mesmerizing about these prancing, neighing status symbols. Lamborghini or Lipizzaner? It’s a tough choice.
Guest Bloggers Adam McCulloch and Emma Sloley are married travel writers based in New York. Originally from Australia, they moved to the U.S. in 2004. They have traveled to over 60 countries and written for a wide range of publications, including Travel + Leisure, Condé Nast Traveler, New York magazine, Gotham, Gourmet Traveller, Coastal Living, Reader’s Digest and Outside. Adam and Emma are sending us stories and pictures daily from their 14-day voyage aboard Seabourn Odyssey between Rome and Venice. Come by and read their blogs often.
If you thought dancing the tango was hard, try doing it on board a ship, in four-inch heels. When we first boarded Seabourn Odyssey, we asked Rebecca Maughan, one of the Seabourn dancers, how she maintains her poise even when the ship is rolling. She responded by performing a little dance in which she pretended to stumble down a hallway in a rolling swell, saying that her way of coping was to insert little elegant half steps in her usual walk.
Whenever there have been waves, swells or pitching seas (as on the first couple of days), our method of walking down the corridors occasionally involved staggering and clutching walls. Yet all the staff and crew, not surprisingly, have mastered walking a dead straight line, no matter what the conditions. The key, we discovered, was not to trust our eyes (that vertical wall is not vertical) but rather try to feel the movement of the ship and adjust our balance like a dancer might.
We had an inkling we could have the dancers show us how it was done, but obviously we could never hope to match the effortless grace of Rebecca and her dance partner Andrei so we decided instead to photograph them in the empty restaurant, dancing their hearts out. If only our sea legs looked this good.
Guest Bloggers Adam McCulloch and Emma Sloley are married travel writers based in New York. Originally from Australia, they moved to the U.S. in 2004. They have traveled to over 60 countries and written for a wide range of publications, including Travel + Leisure, Condé Nast Traveler, New York magazine, Gotham, Gourmet Traveller, Coastal Living, Reader’s Digest and Outside. Adam and Emma are sending us stories and pictures daily from their 14-day voyage aboard Seabourn Odyssey between Rome and Venice. Come by and read their blogs often.
We always hated Roger Moore as James Bond. Not with the burning passion of Dr. No, mind you, who wanted him strapped to an imploding nuclear reactor. Ours has always been more of a mild outrage that this bland dandy could ever have played Ian Fleming’s international man of mystery. We mention this because we’re no longer in the Ionian Sea. In fact, we’re no longer in Europe. We have arrived in “Bondlandia.”
Gliding through the satin waters of Montenegro this morning, we were struck by how many ports on our voyage were destinations in which 007 had either wooed or wasted people. The very first Bond book, Casino Royale, is partly set in Montenegro. For Your Eyes Only was filmed in Corfu, and Venice, our final port, seems to be a perennial set-piece.
And for good reason. As we cruised up the Bay of Kotor, there were island churches and mountain lairs perfect for Bond villains to hide out. The towering, craggy cliffs seemed ideal for falling to one’s death or parasailing to safety with the aid of a cleverly designed memory-fabric courtesy of Q. And those terracotta rooftops looked as though they’d provide a splendidly destructive surface on which to conduct a chase scene on motorcycle or foot.
To us, Roger Moore seemed suited to exactly none of these activities. He would have been more at home doing what we did this afternoon, talking a leisurely kayak along the mirrored bay before repairing to bed for an afternoon nap.
What both we and Roger Moore lacked (and what today’s Daniel Craig has in abundance) was the air of barely repressed violence, a “blunt instrument,” as Fleming intended his rather brutish Bond to be.
By all means, share your own least favorite Bond in the comments — and feel free to be blunt.
Bond girl wows her audience
Another person who is nothing like James Bond.
And another …
Guest Bloggers Adam McCulloch and Emma Sloley are married travel writers based in New York. Originally from Australia, they moved to the U.S. in 2004. They have traveled to over 60 countries and written for a wide range of publications, including Travel + Leisure, Condé Nast Traveler, New York magazine, Gotham, Gourmet Traveller, Coastal Living, Reader’s Digest and Outside. Adam and Emma are sending us stories and pictures daily from their 14-day voyage aboard Seabourn Odyssey between Rome and Venice. Come by and read their blogs often.
If you ever needed proof that chefs are the new rock stars, witness the gusto with which we swept ashore with an excited gaggle of fellow gourmands to go shopping at the local markets with Seabourn Odyssey Executive Chef Rafael Peterkovic. Today’s travelers sign up for the kinds of activities we used to think of as chores: prepping for meals, shopping for groceries, eating in the kitchen. (We sincerely hope the next rock star job isn’t in recycling, or we’ll all be touring landfills.)
We got to Corfu’s “Popular Market” only to find that it wasn’t so popular…at least not today. It was yet another public holiday in Greece – with Easter just gone and next Easter’s preparations probably already underway – so only a smattering of despondent vendors were hawking their wares. Did that deter us from descending like locusts on the few stalls that were open? It did not.
Chef Rafael became a Pied Piper in chef whites, stopping to sniff punnets of wild strawberries, frown over fat zucchini flowers, tut-tut over shark fin, haggle over Swiss chard and poke fish. (Pro-tip: the flesh should bounce back straight away.) At one point, he vanished then reappeared at the end of an alley, beckoning us with a triumphant grin. It turned out his favorite fishmonger, Christos, had heard the ship was in port and had opened specially. Cigarette clamped permanently in the corner of his mouth, the fishmonger cocked his roller door halfway like he was about to conduct some shady deal. Here, Chef Rafael purchased red snapper, red mullet and 26 pounds of sea bass, which reappeared on the menus at lunch and dinner.
Three Important Food Groups: Anyone concerned that we’re not eating properly should be assured that we’re dutifully getting all three food groups. We consume 80 bottles of champagne a day, 40 pounds of caviar a week and 50 pounds of foie gras. (OK, the other guests probably help a bit.)
Secret Shame: You know those fresh-made grissini bread sticks at dinner? The ones you pretend to not notice? Well, someone has been eating them. In fact, the ship goes through 17,500 grissini per week. Stack them end-to-end and you have 3.5 miles worth.
Souvenir: One of us left our hat on a tour bus a few days back. While shopping for a replacement we came across this millinery abomination. It gives new meaning to hat-hair.
Get a glimpse of what it will be like to sail aboard Seabourn Quest to Antarctica and Patagonia. In this video, Expedition Leader Robin West and Assistant Expedition Leader Jarda Versloot-West share their insights on what guests can expect when they sail to the White Continent – from the history and diverse wildlife and to the unique and stunning landscape. They possess a wealth of knowledge, with more than 80 trips to Antarctica combined under their belts, and will undoubtedly ensure guests experience the trip of a lifetime.
“It’s this beautiful serene wide landscape that you cannot explain unless you’ve been there. It’s incredible,” Jarda said.
Leopard seals, elephant seals, penguins, humpback whales, birds and more – there will no shortage of opportunities to view the distinct wildlife in Antarctica.
“The great thing is in Antarctica, when you come ashore, you can go 20 meters, sit down, and everything’s right there in front of you,” Robin said.
Seabourn Quest will be the most luxurious ship to sail to Antarctica. After spending a day ashore, guests will return to the ship and enjoy the luxuries and signature touches of Seabourn. The onboard dedicated will take every care to ensure the comfort and well-being of our guests.
“It’s incredible to be out on glaciers, see penguins, see whales and then in the evening come back, glass of champagne, dress and enjoy the luxuries of the ship,” said Robin.
We hope you enjoy this video about Seabourn’s “Antarctica & Patagonia” cruises, which will certainly be a journey of a lifetime. Robin and Jarda will be on board all four cruises – won’t you join them on one of the voyages?
Guest Bloggers Adam McCulloch and Emma Sloley are married travel writers based in New York. Originally from Australia, they moved to the U.S. in 2004. They have traveled to over 60 countries and written for a wide range of publications, including Travel + Leisure, Condé Nast Traveler, New York magazine, Gotham, Gourmet Traveller, Coastal Living, Reader’s Digest and Outside. Adam and Emma are sending us stories and pictures daily from their 14-day voyage aboard Seabourn Odyssey between Rome and Venice. Come by and read their blogs often.
Day 8, May 5, Itea, Greece: Vapors of the Gods
We could smell Itea before we could see it. All over town pungent wood fires sent plumes of fragrant smoke drifting along the waterfront. We were alighting in the middle of Greek Orthodox Easter, where lunch is celebrated by roasting whole lambs and drinking homemade wine.
Our mission was to reach the Sanctuary of Apollo, a legendarily dangerous journey that ancient pilgrims would surely have enjoyed a lot more if they’d had motor-coaches. We wended our way though Chryssa plains where six million olive trees were so gnarled with the centuries that they resembled an army of Ent tree-monsters from Lord of The Rings. We climbed through myriad hairpin bends and into the craggy hills dotted with (exceptionally relieved) goats who gamboled among spruce trees.
The temple at Delphi was situated on a god-like piece of real estate on the slopes of Mount Parnassus, with panoramic views. Alas, it was closed for Easter Sunday so we ventured on to our own Easter lunch, which was waiting at a taverna just up the road. The lamb was delicious, the fried cheese sublime and the wine — presented in plastic jugs — was, well, authentically home made.
Eggs are ancient symbols of resurrection.
Freshly-picked oranges in Itea.
For millennia people have known that bad wine beats bad water any day of the week, especially on Greek Easter. Throughout history, the Middle Ages especially, drinking water could be a death sentence, so people avoided it like the plague. (Which, not surprisingly, they also tried to avoid.) A brewed or fermented drink was safe to drink. Water, not so much. And the more important you were the less likely you’d risk drinking the water.
And throughout the ages, we embraced that logic heartily. Medieval monks at the Passau Monastery in Bavaria, for instance, were only permitted to eat bread while fasting, but one clever monk figured that beer was basically liquid bread because it contained yeast, grain and water. The monks sent a barrel of beer to the capital and were given permission for eight liters of beer a day…per monk. Explorer Captain Cook also had his priorities in order: on his journey to the ends of the earth he took enough drinking water for two weeks and enough beer-making supplies for six months.
But we digress. Back in Itea, we learned that all the great leaders visited the Oracle, and here’s the fun part. She received her visions by standing on what we now know to be a volcanic vent spewing hallucinogenic vapors like ethylene while chewing laurel leaves, a narcotic. So the tipsy rulers were seeking advice from an Oracle stoned out of her olive tree.
As we raised our glass of home made wine we soberly toasted Apollo who, among other things, was also known as the god of moderation. Cheers!
Poppies bloom all over the Mediterranean in May.
The United Nations of Bacon: Every morning during breakfast at the Colonnade, there are three types of bacon on offer – English, American and Canadian. The English one is on the far left: draw your own conclusions.
What the heck is that?
Crossing the Ionian Sea we picked up a feathered hitchhiker, a little sparrow, who became comfortable enough with the pool deck that he perched on a guest’s lunch plate and stayed there until dessert.
Seabourn Odyssey departs Itea for Zakynthos.
Thank Zeus we made it to Zakynthos alive. According to Greek legend, the Mediterranean is full of fearsome sea-monsters, and local superstitions warn against all kinds of perils and dangers. As it turns out, there may be some truth to even the tallest of tales.
In the ancient world adventurers turned to myth and legend to explain natural phenomena. Even our old friend Odysseus encountered many fantastical creatures we know today to be real. The Charybdis, for instance, was a monster churning the waters off of Sicily where we passed the other night. In all probability, the Charybdis was a whirlpool caused by the narrow strait between Italy’s boot and Sicily’s stone. The Cyclops Odysseus was supposed to have encountered was based on the skulls of dwarf elephants whose trunk cavity resembled a single eye socket.
Skulls at her feet suggest she shouldn’t be messed with.
The further sailors ventured, the more unusual the creatures they encountered. Imagine coming across a 60-foot long oar fish in tropical waters: assuming that it was a fearsome sea serpent (as many did) seems less a wild exaggeration than a simple observation. A hydra, meanwhile, a multi-headed serpent of ancient fable, may well have been half a dozen oar fish feeding or breeding.
Occasionally people have even mistaken each other for monsters. Theories abound about the real-life inspiration for Selkies – mythological creatures that appear in the folklore of several cultures, including Scotland, Iceland and Ireland, who are said to be the souls are drowned people. Some of our favorites: they were really a tribe of Japanese free-divers who used a sheath-like fin to gain extra depth, or fur-clad Finns traveling by kayak or shipwrecked Spaniards washed ashore whose wet black hair resembled seals. Maybe there really is a monster in all of us.
Monsters lurk beneath calm waters.
A Real life Sea Monster: Monk Fish
Seabourn Odyssey in Zakynthos.
Souvenir: The concept of the evil eye is close to universal: you’ll find versions of it in the Middle East, Asia and parts of Africa (even in Hawaii, where it’s known as maka pilau), and of course throughout the Mediterranean. Wandering the port of Zakynthos today, we saw the blue eye charm – thought to ward off the evil eye – everywhere we went. We’re not superstitious, but hey, it doesn’t hurt to hedge your bets …
Evil Eye
Crossing the Line: Call it an initiation, a ritual or a good old-fashioned hazing, but we’ve always been fascinated by navy superstitions. Sailors who have already crossed the equator are nicknamed “shellbacks” or “sons of Neptune,” while those who haven’t are “pollywogs,” and the initiation rites can range from light-hearted shenanigans like dressing in drag, kissing a fish and covering pollywogs in tomato sauce then throwing them in the pool, to more extreme rituals like being swatted with firehoses, crawling through garbage or being locked in the stocks and pelted with fruit. We’re told even crews on cruise ships celebrate such crossings – so keep an eye out for anyone with tomato sauce in their hair…
Life of Pi: Here’s a character from another mythic voyage we spied in the port: a cartoon version of Richard Parker from the film Life of Pi. Somehow we’re less scared of this tiger – he looks positively kitten-like.
Guest Bloggers Adam McCulloch and Emma Sloley are married travel writers based in New York. Originally from Australia, they moved to the U.S. in 2004. They have traveled to over 60 countries and written for a wide range of publications, including Travel + Leisure, Condé Nast Traveler, New York magazine, Gotham, Gourmet Traveller, Coastal Living, Reader’s Digest and Outside. Adam and Emma are sending us stories and pictures daily from their 14-day voyage aboard Seabourn Odyssey between Rome and Venice. Come by and read their blogs often.
Some destinations suit a certain kind of weather. The Greek Isles are idyllic under a dazzling cerulean blue sky, England needs a jolly good atmospheric spritz of mist and drizzle to really come into its own, while Costa Rican rainforests are at their flamboyant best during tropical downpours. Catania, one of the destinations on today’s tour of Sicily, feels like it should be experienced beneath thunderous clouds pelting black volcanic rain or shrouded beneath the jaundiced desert grit that periodically blows in from the Sahara. Somehow it just doesn’t look right under a cheery blue sky.
From the moment we disembarked it was clear this town had a forceful personality. Blood oranges oozed murderously on a fruit seller’s cart. In a small square all the statues had been decapitated in a revolutionary rage and, further on in the shadows under the bridge, old men loitered around card games, arguing in scratchy mafioso voices.
On entering the main square we discovered a classic baroque streetscape, but the style’s usual whimsy was rendered a funereal shade of black. The volcanic stone from which the whole town appears to have been hewn comes from the flanks of Mount Etna, which looms over the city like an angry stepfather, perpetually poised to blow his top.
As if we needed a reminder that this was Sicily, the soundtrack to the Godfather seemed to follow us wherever we went — from the main square with its sooty black elephant fountain where a melancholy bearded man played a haunting tune on his accordion, to the fish market, which appeared to have been hacked out of a coal pit and was filled with the raucous yelling you might expect at a cockfight.
All this drama under the influence of today’s glorious weather was far too incongruous for moody Catania, which felt like a set piece for some wonderfully grim saga. We can’t wait to return in bad weather.
Souvenir: Mount Etna certainly photographs well but our guide assured us that the very best memento was a piece of volcanic rock. “We make more souvenirs every time Etna erupts,” she quipped. So we did just that, pocketing a tiny chunk of black lava stone from one of the calderas. It’s a gift for a dear friend of ours who collects stones from around the world. We just hope she doesn’t think it’s a lump of coal…
Golf:
We thought the ship only had 10 decks so imagine our excitement — Spinal Tap style — when we discovered that this ship goes to 11. On the very top deck we found the driving range and, joy of joys, it was free. Not being golfers, it took us a while to be able to clear the railing. But soon we were watching the little white balls soar far into the Ionian Sea. What fun! We do wonder how they fetch them though — maybe one of the tender boats follows behind scooping them up?
Table Tennis:
Is it just us or have tennis courts grown smaller since we last played? Even the net seems to have shrunk — although that did make it easier to jump at the end of the game. What a lark it was belting the little balls back and forth! We realized in the end, though, that the flimsy-floaty white balls were actually for kids, so we changed over to the hard and fast golf balls, which was a lot more satisfying (even if they did hurt a bit more).
Shuffleboard:
Finally a game that looked so simple even we should be able to master it: shuffleboard. After some debate, we decided that it must be a cross between hopscotch and jousting. A contestant, holding a long pole, stands at each end. The first round involves hopping on one leg while shoving the dinner plates down the green in an attempt to stub the competitor’s toes. When all the dinner plates have been thrown (don’t worry, they’re made from plastic so they don’t break), you run at each other like jousting knights, trying to wrap the fork of the pole around your competitor’s neck. (Again, don’t worry, there are rubber safety-stoppers on the prongs). It’s a real hoot when you do it right.
The Observation Bar:
Exhausted after our day of athletics we repaired to our favorite bar with our favorite bartender and our favorite piano-man serenading us with our favorite songs. There’s a lot of favorite in that one sentence but our enthusiasm goes to 11, too. The Observation Bar is located at the pointy end of the ship on deck 10.
*Disclaimer: Of course, we didn’t really play any of these games in the fashion described above. Although we’re still a bit confused about how to play shuffleboard.
Guest Bloggers Adam McCulloch and Emma Sloley are married travel writers based in New York. Originally from Australia, they moved to the U.S. in 2004. They have traveled to over 60 countries and written for a wide range of publications, including Travel + Leisure, Condé Nast Traveler, New York magazine, Gotham, Gourmet Traveller, Coastal Living, Reader’s Digest and Outside. Adam and Emma are sending us stories and pictures daily from their 14-day voyage aboard Seabourn Odyssey between Rome and Venice. Come by and read their blogs often.
Today was a day at sea, so we had plenty of time to work on our sun tans, try out the spa and ponder the nature of megalomania. Here’s a remarkable fact: we’ve spent the last two days and nights sailing away from Rome in one of the fastest and most modern of cruise ships, by tomorrow morning we’ll be in Africa, and yet we still won’t have traveled beyond the reach of the Roman Empire.
All at sea
How did Caesar and his cohorts conquer so widely? Well, just as absolute power corrupts absolutely, emperors, tzars and dictators have long demonstrated that a crazy amount of power makes you stark raving mad. The Roman Empire wrote the book on crazy. Take Caligula, for example. His name is synonymous with the kinds of depraved acts we can’t mention on this G-rated blog (there is, after all, one child on board). On his most rational of days Caligula was merely content to proclaim himself God. He even built a pontoon bridge across the Bay of Naples and pretended to walk on water. But on his irrational days? Oh boy. One day when he ran out of criminals in Rome’s Circus Maximus he ordered guards to drag the first five rows of spectators into the arena to do battle with the lions.
Caligula stands out in history because…well, we’re not entirely sure. Other emperors have been equally diabolical, and not just the ancient ones. Enver Hoxha, for instance, ruled Albania in 1944. When we say ruled, his official title (of his own invention) was Comrade-Chairman-Prime Minister-Foreign-Minister-Minister of War-Commander-in-Chief of the People’s Army Enver Hoxha. He was rather paranoid – and probably with some justification — of being assassinated, so he kidnapped a dentist who bore him some resemblance and forced the poor man to undergo plastic surgery to strengthen the likeness. Now if that’s not crazy, we don’t know what is.
Shipshape: Talking of transforming faces, the treatment we had at The Spa at Seabourn this morning was pretty sublime. (And that’s how you do a segue, folks.) While the Seabourn 24 Karat Gold Facial sounded like something Caligula might have gone for, we opted for a humbler experience in the Elemis Oxydermy Facial. The treatment involved oxygen therapy and microdermabrasion: if you’re unfamiliar with these terms, imagine the world’s tiniest vacuum cleaner being swept over your face, followed by the world’s tiniest floor polisher. Finally, a facial massage and the application of a hydrating mask and voila! We suddenly felt all the travel fatigue swept away like the wake of a ship.
As the wise Scrabble board says, we had a fabulous ayda at sea…
Game time
Stairway to buffet.
What the heck is that? As we wander the ship, we’re occasionally struck by items that are, at least to us, inexplicable. (Hey, we never claimed to be sailors.) So it was when we saw this little blue creature stranded in the hot tub. At first it looked like a broken bottle, which didn’t seem right. On closer inspection, it seems to be a plastic dolphin in sunglasses on a popsicle stick. Seabourn staff or fellow passengers, feel free to school us in the comment section!
You can tell a lot about a society by its markets. We always like to head to a market when we visit a new place for a hit of full-sensory cultural immersion.
So wandering through the souks of Kairouan on our shore excursion in Tunisia today gave us a snapshot of life in this small north African country. There were the usual stoic donkeys tethered to makeshift carts, along with homicidal scooter drivers weaving and honking through the pedestrian traffic. There were vendors selling brightly colored ceramic tagines, freshly baked round loaves of bread, piles of saffron and henna and pastry shops galore.
Talking to Declan, a lovely English fellow from Guest Services over lunch at The Kasbah, we learned that Seabourn Odyssey’s chef often disembarks at ports like this and shops the local markets for produce to serve onboard – unusual fruits, the catch of the day, that kind of thing. We plan to grill chef before dinner as to what he’s grilling for dinner…we’ll report back.
Does This Mosaic Make Me Look Fat?
Some art forms are suited to portraiture and some are not. Today, on our day trip to El Jem we visited the mosaic museum that featured some of the finest mosaics on the planet. They depicted gods and goddesses, myths and legends, but they also depicted ordinary people…in a kind of unflattering way. While sculptors and painters can trim off the extra pounds and make you appear taller or more noble, in mosaic we suspect even the most stunning family member ended up looking like they had been dropped you on your head. To wit:
Souvenir: The beautiful and carb-tastic “makroudh” cakes stuffed with dates we picked up at one of the sweet stores in the market.
What the Heck is That? What was it that made us two hours late getting away this afternoon? Was it:
Answer: C (Both)
