As Shakespeare Said ....

Shakespeare Knew As scheduled, we arrive in Parintins on the next day as we sailed down the Amazon toward the ocean. This is a town of 100,000 people on an island in the middle of the river. It's famous for the Boi Bumba festival in June, when the town doubles in size. This event is described as the largest folk pageant in the world. After June, for the rest of the year the winning team performs a one-hour version of their winning show for tourists. A 35,000-seat stadium is used for the festival, but we will see the shortened version in a municipal building. This is the only activity in town, and is so special that three story-wooden ferries are used to transport tourists from the ship to the show. The show is part of the retelling of an Indian fable about a competition between two oxen, Garantido and Caprichoso. The drums, instruments, and two singers are highly amplified, as locals dressed as Indians, gods, flowers, bulls, snakes, and birds, dance while floats appear and disappear behind flat sliding panels depicting jungle forests. The cast of 100 performs for an hour, after which tourists are invited to join in the dancing, and then to have pictures taken with the performers. The costumes are elaborate, with feathers that double the height of the gyrating women and leaping men. The show would have been right at home in New Orleans or Las Vegas, except for its being about Amazon mythology and sung in the Portuguese language. As Shakespeare aptly said, it is a show "of sound and fury, signifying ...." We are transported back to the ship after the show, as we plan to sail at 2:30 pm. We still have 600 miles to go to reach the Atlantic. But before we sail, various Brazilian officials want to review our passports, medical records, and anything else that might generate some "problem" requiring, perhaps, a fee or a bribe. We finally set sail out of the river at 6:30 pm, and are on our way north to Devil's Island, off the coast of French Guiana. By now, ship passengers are becoming a bit weary of the passing scenery, which is dramatic in its vastness of water and sky, but the shore looks much the same on either side. Each morning, Alice has opened the curtains of the room and observed, "It's still here," and we laugh. After two more days of cruising on the Amazon, we reach the huge delta. The sea breezes and lower humidity are most welcome, and the waters are looking more blue now than brown. On the ship, we watched the movie "Papillon," based on prisoner Henri Charriere's true-life attempts to escape the daunting and deadly tropical prison on the three volcanic islands known as the Salvation Islands, but more popularly called, collectively, "Devil's Island." Based on the film, we expect to view much larger islands, with swamps, mosquitos, and decaying buildings. Instead, as we approach by ship the islands appear to be an idyllic vacation spot. The swampy scenes in the film depicted times when prisoners were forced to do chain gang labor on the mainland, only 10 miles away. We learn that today there is a small hotel on the largest of the islands, and French visitors are there for a holiday, arriving by boat. We can walk around Ile Royale, the main island, in less than two hours. We walk in a somber cemetery where children of families of the guards are buried. Prisoners who died were not buried in the ground, but instead were buried at sea to attract sharks, a deterrent to escape. A number of the prison buildings are still on the island, as well as a Catholic chapel. From the far side of the island we can see Devil's Island, and the ruins of the tiny cottage where Dreyfus was imprisoned. The third island was designated for prisoners sentenced to solitary and silent confinement. We are told that 60,000 prisoners served time at Devil's Island since its inception under Napoleon III, and about 90% died--many of diseases like yellow fever. As we walk around the island, we see monkeys, a parrot, sea turtles, and Agoutis. The Agouti is a rust-colored rodent that looks like a guinea pig on stilts. (We will put up pictures after we return home on March 11.) Two days at sea later, we are in Barbados. While the island still grows sugar cane, which is processed and shipped to Europe, it is now a popular international tourist location and a mecca for cruise ships. We learn a little about the history, and the island's love of cricket; they have a large cricket stadium. The sport is very popular; our guide says, to laughter, that the British invented the sport, but the Barbadans perfected it. We see small brightly colored "chattel homes," with temporary stone rubble foundations. These are a tradition dating from the end of slavery on the island. The occupants can easily move the homes if a landowner requires it. We observe many signs of prosperity here, and are favorably impressed that there is no trash or graffiti in the areas we see. We learn that the government is very strict about keeping appearances attractive for the lucrative tourist industry. We visit Henderson's Cave, a well-kept, accessible cave with interesting calcite stalactite and stalagmite formations. Unlike other islands in the Caribbean, which are volcanic, Barbados is composed of coral limestone. In fact, Barbados is actually not "Caribbean"; it is in the Atlantic, and it is usually out of the path of hurricanes. It has been over 50 years since the last direct hit. One more significant advantage of this former British colony: the limestone is a natural filter for water, so Barbadians and visitors enjoy clean drinking water. One more stop tomorrow: the American Virgin Islands. Then we'll be back to Florida for a flight home. See you soon! We're really looking forward to having ready, affordable access to the Internet.

Up the river without a ....

Up the river without a .... The Amazon is huge--initially we cannot see both shores at the same time. We see why it's called "the ocean river." The water is brown from the silt carried downstream. Captain Tim Roberts (our British second captain, as the first, a Norwegian first-named Dag, went home from Buenos Aires) has devised a better way to reach our next port, Belem, which will improve the visit. Originally, the ship was to be moored in the middle of the river, and passengers would have needed to take a 40-minute tender ride to shore followed by a 45-minute bus ride to reach the city. He has decided to wait for high tide in order to slide our ship over a sand bar and move up the tributary to Belem and anchor a mere 20-minute tender ride from the town dock. We cross the sand bar with just 6 feet to spare, and will have to leave 12 hours later at the next high tide. Belem is on the Guama river, which merges with the Amazon. In its prime this city of about a million residents was known as "the tropical Paris." (Paris appears to be the gold standard for comparisons in South America.) Belem's port area has modern buildings, food courts, and (a rarity) free, if balky, wifi. A large market along the water's edge, mercifully air-conditioned, sells vegetables, seafood, and meat as well as prepared foods. There's even a brewery selling Amazon Beer. We set out along the shore to find a mineral museum, shown on the map provided by our ship. We find the city's impressive cathedral, but no mineral museum. As we wander the uneven cobbled or tiled streets, we do find a fine arts museum, which has a current exhibit of contemporary paintings as well as regional art produced over the past centuries. The building itself is impressive with marble staircases and exquisite wooden floors on the second floor, striped with wide boards alternating dark and light woods--jacaranda and teak. Several art students welcome us in hesitant English, and guide us to the exhibits. The contemporary artwork shows talent and is far better than the garish paintings being sold to tourists. We wear special slippers to see the exhibit on the second floor, which features wooden furniture from several eras, all with caned seating and backs to be comfortable in the hot climate. Early portraits of "regular people," as opposed to the usual dignitaries, are outstanding. From the students we learn that the ship-provided maps are inaccurate, and the mineral museum will be too far away to visit. We spend some time walking through the busy town, dodging uneven pavement along its narrow streets and leaping over the deep chasms passing for drains when crossing at intersections. We share a Coke Zero in a local cantina--our second Coke of the trip--and it's refreshing indeed. We drink using a straw in the can, as one cannot trust the ice anywhere on shore, just as one cannot trust the water unless it's bottled. (By the way, we have not seen any Pepsi products in South America--not sure if Coke has monopolies, or if there's not enough business for two mega soft drink companies.) We arrive at the dock to catch the tender back to the ship, just missing a storm of heavy rain and lightning, part of the rainy season here. The next day we are in Santarem, a commercial city of about 200,000. Holland America has paid for a cargo ship to move so we can dock--no tender needed here. The agriculture giant Cargill has a large storage depot by the dock for soybeans, and we are told that the cargo ship will be unloading fertilizer for the cleared forest areas to the south, to be used to grow soybeans. Three-story wooden ships share the dock area, and each level is strung with hammocks provided by the passengers. It can take days to reach a town up- or down-river. The passengers transport their own belongings and meals, including the bedding. We learn that these trips can take five to six days each way. River travel is the best, and sometimes only, way to travel in this immense region. Just one road from Santarem leads to southern Brazil. Nearby is a national forest of 1,480,000 acres. Around the harbor, Santarem has many stands offering local handicrafts and souvenirs. Shellacked piranhas can be had for the equivalent of five dollars. Blowguns and darts are popular offerings as well. We board an ancient bus, windows open to the hot, moist air. We are transported to the downtown section along the seafront. Parts of a pedestrian walkway along the seaside are available for taking in the river view, but other parts are under repair. The Amazon water level is dropping, necessitating these changes because marshes are filling in between the walkway and the river. As we are in an area where the river is the major highway, easy access to the river is mandatory. We set out to walk to a historic church, one of the few tourist attractions, and cross narrow streets with even deeper gutters than in Belem. We count ourselves lucky that it's not rainy during this year's rainy season, but sympathize with those whose livelihoods will be affected without the expected moisture replenishment. Many stores are selling notebooks, as school will soon start now that summer is ending. We notice many stores selling fabrics, something rarely seen in the U.S. any more. After wandering the pocked streets and dodging few cars and many motorcycles, we find the church and its adjacent museum of sacred art, but they are closed and locked, even though it is Friday. The heat and humidity (about 96 Fahrenheit with 96% humidity) are as oppressive as they've been ever since Rio de Janeiro, and we soon gladly board the shuttle bus for the ride back to the ship. We could have taken a tour during our time in Santarem, but we canceled out because we didn't relish being in the rain forest for four to six hours in this inhospitable climate. We could have seen rubber harvested or gone fishing for piranhas, but instead rely on fellow passengers who did brave the wilds to report on their adventures. Their frazzled reports make us glad to have skipped the extended outdoor experiences, now with the added frisson of Zika. The next day our ship spends several hours visiting a native village of about 75 persons. A crowd of children in native dress are brought from all the nearby villages. They pose for photos with visitors and lead them around the village. We are expected to provide gifts of school supplies and/or cash for the children, who are not shy about asking for money for their services. Finally we reach Manaus, our westernmost stop on the Amazon, on February 28. We are now 880 miles of river from the Atlantic Ocean. We will stay here overnight. This is a bustling city with a population of about 2 million. Its free trade status has attracted companies that use cheap labor to assemble electronics and machinery, for example. The officially claimed unemployment rate is only 6%, but that is belied by the decay and poverty we observe (and smell!) on the streets. Manaus was once the center of the rubber trade, generating fabulous wealth for a few while bringing misery to their slaves. The rubber industry collapsed when rubber tree seeds were smuggled to Malaysia; since then the trees have been supplanted by artificial rubber. The city's attractive custom house, built during the rubber boom, was prefabricated in Europe, and its parts were assembled here. An elegant opera house, Teatro Amazona, opened in 1896, was constructed of lavish materials imported from, or fabricated in, Europe. We enjoy an excellent tour of this building, which would not be out of place in any major European city. Here in the distant outpost of Manaus, it is akin to seeing a spaceship. An added bonus: because the Amazon Philharmonic is rehearsing in the ornate five-tiered concert hall, we hear music by Mendelssohn in air-conditioned comfort. The symphony is comprised of Russian, Belgian and Brazilian musicians, we are told. Their average age might be around 35, contrasted with the white-haired symphonies in many U.S. cities. Our tour also takes us through parts of the city we cannot reach on foot, including slum areas with squatters' homes on stilts. We learn that in 2012 the city experienced massive flooding, while in 2010 there was an unprecedented drought. This year, too, is short on rainfall; the Amazon's depth is three meters less than normal. Our guide says the public schooling is minimal--only three to four hours of instruction per day for 170 days a year. Expensive private schools are far more rigorous. We pass a daunting moldering prison and imagine it is a fine deterrent to crime, notwithstanding the many warnings we are given about being wary of pickpockets. Although there is an impressive suspension bridge just east of the city, there are actually no roads between Manaus and the rest of Brazil. The bridge serves a few small towns, so they can reach Manaus without boats, but the road goes no farther south than these few towns. We are now retracing our path toward the Atlantic Ocean, 660 miles away as the crow flies. On March 1 we will be in Parintins for a preview of the Boi Bumba festival show. This will be out last stop in Brazil.

A Tale of Two Citties, and Two More

A Tale of Two Cities, and two more February 17 and we dock in Ilheus. We go into the town on our own after cancelling the booked tour; it didn't sound interesting enough to justify the $70 per person cost. Two shuttle buses later, we arrive at the San Sebastián Cathedral on the town square. The temperature is in the 90s, but the church is surprisingly cool, with a breeze blowing in from the sandy beach. The doors are open on three sides, and the seats in the pews have large open ovals which allow the air to circulate. We rest in the church before walking through the city streets. The city has a population of around 255,000, and was once part of the thriving cocoa business on Brazil's north coast. There are many small restaurants and shops selling clothes and school supplies. Alice photographs a noodle cake, menus in walls, artwork of tapioca specialties, and assorted sweets. We visit famed author Jorge Amado's home, a small, three-story place half a block from the church. The author lived here when he wrote his first novel; now it's a museum, complete with his typewriter, displays of his books and artifacts from his life. After we return to the ship, we become aware that the shuttle bus had free wifi, a missed opportunity to connect with our world. We are disappointed at the loss of this rare opportunity, but we decide not to walk a quarter-mile back to the shuttle bus area in 95-degree heat. We've found that even when wifi is "available," it can take many minutes to connect, and connections are unstable even if they occur. The next day we are in Salvador, Brazil's first city, founded in 1549, and also its first capital. Hudson Bay in Canada is the largest bay in the world, but the bay outside Salvador is the world's second largest. Now a city of 3.5 million, Salvador is relatively prosperous. It has lovely clean beaches, high-rise condos, and modern buildings. After a scenic drive through the modern section overlooking the bay, during which we see the first fort built when the city was established--now with a lighthouse on top--we visit the well-preserved historic city center. It is elevated from the port area and very picturesque, with cobblestone streets, colorful buildings and baroque churches. It is quite warm, but there is a breeze and we are often able to find shade as we walk. We are told that the temperature in Salvador, being near the Equator, varies only about 4 degrees Celsius all year 'round. It has just two 'seasons': rain and no rain. The historic district is a UNESCO World Heritage site. Colonial buildings, churches, and squares date from the earliest period of slavery that supported the sugar, coffee, mining, and other labor-intensive industries during the centuries when Brazil was a Portuguese colony. A statue of a Black man in a city square recalls a slave who managed to escape into the jungle for 35 years, only to be captured, hung, and quartered. Slavery was not abolished in Brazil until 1880. We are told that 85 percent of the population of Salvador are of African descent. We walk to the Church of Our Lady of the Rosary of the Black Man. Starting around 1700, this church was built by slaves over a period of 100 years. They could only work on the church at night, when they were free of their normal duties, and then only when the moon was full so they could see. They were forbidden to practice their religions brought from Africa, but this church, though Catholic, incorporates African gods. A Mass is underway when we arrive, including chanting and drums. The inside is embellished with gold sculptures and gilded woodwork, and there is an impressive oil-painted fresco on the ceiling. Among the colorful features of our visit is the presence of a number of hefty Afro-Brazilian women wearing traditional African dresses from 300 years ago--figure-concealing attire featuring very full skirts. Our guide says the slaves were forbidden to wear native dress, with one exception: slave women selected by masters's wives to work in their houses were allowed to wear their traditional garb because the masters then could not see their body contours and be tempted to stray. We move on to visit the Sao Francisco Church, with a sanctuary sumptuously decorated with an estimated one ton of 18 carat gold leaf on its baroque walls and ceiling. Wooden carvings of naked pregnant women among the balustrades are fertility statues that were added by the cathedral's enslaved builders. The blue and white Portuguese tiles lining the walls of the adjacent seminary courtyard are considered to be among the finest outside of Portugal. Finally we visit a restaurant with a "snack" of little fried muffins, shrimp, bean paste, and salsa, washed down by water, beer or the traditional lime-based sweet cocktail. There we are treated to a show of Capoeira, a very high-energy male-only improvisational acrobatic dance that looks like a martial arts contest on steroids, performed to the rhythms of drums and chanting. Next day we are in Maceio, a town known largely for its beaches. By now, Alice and Sumner are running down after many hours in the heat over several days. The temperature today is 98 degrees, and we, along with many fellow passengers, opted to stay on the ship. The next day is Recife--pronounced almost like "hissy fit," because the Portuguese pronounce R's at the beginning of a word like H's. We take a tour of the city (population 1.6 million) as well as the neighboring city of Olinda. The latter is a UNESCO World Heritage site, with grand homes, quaint churches, and handicrafts shops. The view from Olinda's heights overlooking the ocean are special indeed. Recife is the site of the first Jewish congregation in the Americas. The first congregation came here in the early 1600s to escape the Spanish and Portuguese Inquisitions. That was when the Dutch were in control of the colony, and provided a few decades of religious freedom. The initial congregation at one time numbered about 1,200 people. The Portuguese took control again, and sent inquisitors to rid the colony of Jews. The Jewish population was given 3 months to convert to Catholicism or leave. (Some converted, perhaps trying to preserve their Jewish heritage in private, others moved to Brazil's interior and assimilated, others settled in Curaçao in the Caribbean, and still others went on to New Amsterdam--now New York City--where they founded the first synagogue there.) The tour is accompanied by the ship's rabbi, who provides details. Recently, the site of the original synagogue was discovered, and, with outside funding of about $500,000, it has been rebuilt as close to the original structure as possible. Since it is a Saturday, we can't visit the interior, but Rabbi Edward has pictures of the interior. (Sumner and Alice have attended and enjoyed two Jewish services on the ship, and have also appreciated the camaraderie, good discussions, challah bread, gefilte fish and rugelach!) After visiting all these cities, we have two welcome sea days as we make our way to Belem at the mouth of the Amazon--the start of our next series of adventures.

Hot in Many Ways

Hot in Many Ways: First Days in Brazil We arrive at the city of Santos, Brazil on February 13--an hour late owing to strong winds and currents going against our northerly direction. The port authority there sends 10 officers aboard the ship to inspect our passports and make sure we all have our required Brazilian Visas. It takes quite a while to check and stamp 750 passports, so we leave for our tours two hours later than expected. This is Saturday, the last day of carnival, so shops are closed near the port. Santos, the largest port in Brazil, was the center of coffee exports when Brazil controlled the market. A factory the size of a football field employed many women who made the jute bags for the coffee. Here the coffee was tasted and graded. There is a coffee museum in the town, located in an elegant building that was formerly the city's Coffee Trade Palace, a marketplace for buying and selling coffee. We visit this place on our tour, but find that the museum's exhibits are mostly explained in Portuguese, so we only get a general feeling for how important this place was, and how huge the coffee industry used to be in Brazil. Sumner and Alice have a cool drink made of coffee and orange juice, a specialty here. We plan to take a tram--a century-old electric streetcar in this case--through the city's old town section near the port. While waiting for the tram to arrive at the station, we step into the Pele museum across the street. It celebrates one of Brazil's greatest soccer players, who was born and raised in Santos. We don't have time to see the exhibits, but we find seats in the sunny museum café and immediately connect to their fast and free wifi, a rarity in this continent. We settle in for 10 minutes of email downloads and see that all must be well back home, but there is hardly any time to write anyone--a constant frustration on this trip. The tram ride is pleasant, but less interesting than it might have been since many shops are closed and the streets are deserted. Most of what we see is dispiriting: much graffiti on peeling paint, small storefront retail shops selling inexpensive tourist gewgaws that had the look of Chinese manufacture, mom-and-pop cafés, a few old buildings that might have been noteworthy had they been in good repair. Currently lacking industry and unattractive to prosperous businesses, our guide says Santos is attempting to remake itself into a tourist destination, as well as a bedroom community for those who work in São Paulo, the huge city about 40 miles north. The cost of living is much cheaper here than in the more urban setting. Once we get away from Santos's city center, we see the main tourist attraction: broad sandy white beaches. We visit Gonzaga Beach, lined with hotels and high-rise condominiums that are more prosperous-looking than what's downtown. The thong bikinis worn by the women leave little to the imagination, especially from behind. People of all sizes stroll around the beach nearly naked, but seem to think nothing of it. The flavor of Brazil is clearly different from Argentina; their respective national dances exemplify this: tango is precise, passionate, suggestive but dignified, and (most especially) stiff-hipped, while the samba and other Brazilian dances are anything but stiff-hipped. We visitors were agog, and snapped many pictures. We consider what muscles are used to create "the Brazilian walk," but are at a loss as to how one gets the sensuous piston effect. We are in Rio de Janeiro for Sunday and Monday, February 14 and 15. Rio has a breathtakingly beautiful harbor and a magnificent skyline. Sumner and Alice have scheduled a "Best of Rio" tour, which compresses the city's major sights into 9 hours of 95+ degree heat. Since Sunday is not a workday, the beaches are crowded, as are the lines for the cable car to Sugar Loaf and the cog railway to Christ the Redeemer. Not only are many Brazilians visiting these sites en masse, but several other cruise ships are in port, so we are competing with thousands of other visitors for a place in line. The contracted tour company handles things well, but long lines, waits and crowds are unavoidable. Midway through the exhausting and sweltering tour, we spend 90 minutes at a Brazilian restaurant that serves meat table-side from skewers. Of particular note: the barbecued chicken hearts, pork and sausage. Most appreciated, though, were the chilled beverages. Alice has a Coke Zero with ice, and to her at this point in the day it is better than champagne. Sumner has a Brazilian beer and tries the Brazilian cocktail specialty, the Caipirinha. It is a concoction of Cahaca (a liquor distilled from sugar cane), sugar, many slices of lime, and ice. We are allowed two drinks with the meal, and opt to take away much-needed bottles of water for later. Sugar Loaf is a stellar must-see attraction. It takes two cable car rides to arrive at the pinnacle overlooking the city and its surrounding environs. Many rocky promontories and islands punctuate the sparkling blue water; from here we can appreciate how huge the harbor is. We are struck by the ample greenery in the city, and note the favelas (slums) that seem to be pouring upwards in the valleys of the hills. From a distance, these look colorful and quaint, but later during the bus ride we see how unsightly and sad the derelict homes look close-up. The Christ the Redeemer statue is huge, but we're surprised how small it looks from most vantagepoints. It may be a symbol of Rio, but it is not at all comparable in prominence to, say, the Eiffel Tower in Paris. We get to the site on one of many rocky promontories by way of a very slow cog railway. The views from this point are wonderful, as they were from Sugar Loaf. Hordes of other tourists make the experience less enjoyable, especially given the extreme heat. We are told that Rio is usually 10 degrees cooler, but there has been considerable warming in recent years. Last week we hear that the temperature hit over 110 degrees Fahrenheit, unheard-of in the past. We drive along the fabled beaches of Impanema and Cococabana, both beautiful swaths of white sand, with impressive waves crashing to shore. All around them are upscale condominiums and businesses. Rio, we conclude, is a first-world city--except, of course, for those favelas. We learn that Rio's population is about 9.5 million; at least a million of that number live in slums. Since we missed Rio's fabled Carnival by a few days, on Saturday evening Holland America brings in a group of Brazilian dancers and musicians to perform in the ship's theater on Sunday night. There are Samba dancers, drummers, and acrobatic Capoeira performers, whose moves look like a no-contact judo fight. The show is spectacular and loud, very very very loud, with lots of skin showing--rather like a show in Las Vegas, but on steroids. On Monday, it takes a full day on our blessedly air-conditioned ship to recover after Saturday's exhausting tour. We occupy ourselves by reading, doing laundry, and attempting to access the free wifi available in the port terminal--a futile effort, because too many other people are also trying to use it. (Imagine waiting 30 minutes to connect online, only to get knocked off after a few seconds.) When we walk a quarter-mile to get to the terminal we are very glad we didn't go exploring; the temperature and humidity were again stratospheric. We encounter fellow passengers who also opt to stay on board the ship. This is a shame, of course, because there is much more to see. The art museums sound especially interesting, for example, but we don't feel too disappointed because we learn they are closed on Mondays anyway. We sail away from glittering Rio at sunset, and not long after we begin our northward path up Brazil's coast we are treated to a spectacular show of lightening during a heavy rainstorm. We now know how hot it may be as our trip progresses to the equator, and are reconsidering some of the shore excursions we've selected. Between the heat, humidity and the Zika virus threat, we just may pull back from some of our ambitious plans in the jungle!

Two Days in Buenos Aires

Two days in Buenos Aires We are moored, February 9 and 10, amid a dock full of containers being noisily moved about by giant mobile cranes 24/7. The first day is considered a holiday, part of the Mardi Gras celebration and a time for vacations. We are lucky because this means the traffic will be lighter than usual. We take a shuttle ride through canyons of containers to reach the dock terminal area. There we meet our guide, and board our bus. Our voluble guide for both days, named Marina, is super enthusiastic about the city. She says she sees herself as Italian and Spanish, not Argentinian--and certainly not South American, although she was born here. "I am a 'porteña'," she proclaims, meaning a woman from this port city. (The male counterpart is a porteño.) She says Buenos Aires residents are different from other Argentinians--the city folks have the reputation of being loud and brash. Buenos Aires settled by Europeans starting in the late 1500s. They quickly dispatched the native peoples, and made the city feel like the countries they came from. On this first tour day we stop at parks and lakes, and see a downtown racetrack for Formula One cars, which are now electric to reduce the noise. We marvel at a 75-foot-tall shiny metal flower in a park in the Recoleta neighborhood. Made of the same material that sheaths Lockheed airplanes, it opens and closes based on the sunlight, just like a real flower. The architecture in this area is predominantly classical Beaux Arts French. We visit the elaborate and extensive cemetery where Eva Peron is buried; she is a cult figure among Argentinians. Families maintain their own tombs in this cemetery, a major tourist attraction, and many of their mausoleums--built during the city's economic boom times in the late 1800s through the late 1920s--have elegant architectural features, such as glass doors embellished with elegant iron scrollwork, elaborate carvings, and interior steps to reach up to six levels underground. We visit the cathedral that was the seat for the Archbishop who became Pope Francis. His friendship with the Jewish community (400,000) is documented in the cathedral along with a memorial to the Holocaust. The rose-colored government house is in the same area--the president's office is here, and he arrives each day by helicopter. As might be expected from Argentina's volatile political history, there was a demonstration occurring while we are in this part of the city, with hundreds of people camped out in the square facing the government house and the cathedral. Signs and banners demanded justice and evoked Eva Peron's name. We are told the peaceful demonstrators had lost their government jobs and were seeking money. To get from point to point, we must go through police barricades. The public seems to ignore what is happening, taking it in stride. We drive along the widest avenue in the world, 9 de Juleo Avenue; again, it is very French in appearance. Later in the day we are taken to the Puerto Madero area. This was the site of an earlier port built in the city. It became derelict after the new, more modern port was built, but now it is the site of urban renewal. There are many upscale shops, condos, office buildings and restaurants in the area. We enjoy an Italian dinner with wine; our guide cautions that the portions are huge, so we split an appetizer and entree (a house specialty: chicken lasagne with rosy sauce), and have plenty of delicious food for two. Our window looks out on the canal which flows through the area, now partially covered with flowers that have come down the river. After dinner we are bussed to one of the city's many tango theaters (ours is called Los Angelitos--"the little angels") for a professional tango show. The music is live, and the stage is two stories tall; the orchestra is visible on the second level while the dancers perform on the stage below. The passion and footwork are impressive. We try to imagine being able to master some of the steps we see--such as the male dancer's putting his leg around the woman's back while they whirl about the stage at about 20 miles an hour! We are back on the boat by 9 PM. The next day we visit the colorful painted buildings in La Boca, which also gives its name to a favorite soccer team. The area, with streets of cobblestone, is crowded with visitors and street performers, including tango dancers, hoping for money. It reminds us a bit of the French Quarter in New Orleans. Sumner has an Argentine beer, and both of us enjoy beef empanadas--baked, not fried like they usually are. Alice is delighted to have a very cold diet 7-Up, a unique event so far on this trip. On the drive back to the ship, we get a glimpse of the Buenos Aires slums we've heard about. These makeshift homes are tucked under bridges. Our guide says the Argentine economy has been suffering since the year 2000; before that, the Argentine peso was on par with the U.S. dollar; now the exchange ratio is 14 pesos to the dollar. We are warned, not for the first time, to show no flashy jewelry or iPhones; these can be stolen in a flash by pickpockets. Indeed, we later learn that a fellow passenger's Rolex watch was grabbed by a thief who whizzed by on a motorscooter. When we leave Buenos Aires and head up the coast to Brazil, we will have two more days at sea, and lose another hour. We are now three hours ahead of East Coast time.

Uruguay Surprises

Uruguay Surprises

The voyage from the Falklands to Montevideo was often in heavy seas, but gradually the winds lessened and the temperature warmed. By the time we docked in the capital city of Uruguay on Monday, February 8, we feel like we are in "South America" again, in contrast to the chill, white, barren and magnificent wilds to the south.

We take a tour of Montevideo for several hours, followed by a trip into the countryside for wine-tasting and a lunch. At first glance, the city center appears to be down-at-the-heels. From the port, we ride by apartments above street-level businesses where, without air conditioning, residents have left their windows open and we can see unmade beds and tattered curtains billowing over the sidewalks. Yet as we progress a few blocks, we realize that many of the older buildings are in the distinguished French architectural style of the turn of the last century. The main square features several outstanding buildings in that style as well as some older historic ones and a couple of nondescript modern highrises. We note that there's not much trash around, a welcome change to some cities we've seen.

Our enthusiastic guide is very proud of her relatively small country--its population is just over 2 million, with about 1.2 million in the Montevideo environs. Uruguay has the lowest population density and lowest birth rate in South America. Our guide extolls the country's longtime democracy, its universal healthcare system (bare bones, though people can pay extra for private insurance), and its free education through university. Interestingly, Uruguay requires that university graduates repay the cost of their educations once they surpass a certain income threshold. The repayments currently start at $20 a month, and will continue, presumably with increases pegged to inflation, throughout one's career, so long as the income level remains above a certain level. We're told that taxes are relatively high in order to pay for social programs and infrastructure. For example, the value added tax is 22%, and cars are very expensive because they're subject to a luxury tax that nearly doubles their cost. Despite that high tax, we note a number of newer cars on the streets. We pass a large hospital that looks like a dreary prison, but later see a much nicer-looking one, called the Italian Hospital, that serves private patients. The large soccer stadium, of bare-bones concrete, is festooned with the ever-present Latin American graffiti.

We quickly move through the dense downtown, with its historic buildings cheek-to-jowl with modern and/or boring newer structures, arriving at close-in residential neighborhoods bordering Montevideo's outstanding white sand beaches. As far as the eye can see, these beaches front a wide expanse of the Rio de la Plata as it moves toward the Atlantic Ocean, overlooked by numerous imaginatively designed high-rise condominiums. It is a holiday today, and our guide says residents who haven't gone to the ocean beaches (a favorite Uruguayan holiday destination, especially the resort called Punte del Este) are probably sleeping late. Still, we see many people strolling or jogging in the parks and along the beach, using provided exercise equipment along the edges of public spaces, or sitting in groups on the grass having coffee or picnics. As we drive along the waterfront parkway, we see a yellow stucco building that looks like a mosque, but we're told it's their natural history museum. "It's a museum of dead animals," the guide said rather dismissively, to Alice's consternation. Sumner wisecracked that minerals are dead too!

We notice that, unlike in other countries we've visited north of the Patagonia region, there doesn't seem to be a fear of theft in Montevideo; throughout our visit, we rarely notice windows covered with bars.

Our guide tells us that Uruguay is striving to be environmentally responsible, and shows us the sand dunes they're constructing along the beaches, using organic matter like palm tree fronds to plump out the barriers to erosion and flooding. She says Uruguay's economy is primarily based on agriculture, tourism, financial services and mining. Its main trading partners are Brazil and China. It's been importing oil and gas from Venezuela but is working toward energy independence by harnessing wind power.

We move through the "Gold Coast" of waterfront into the Uruguayan countryside, en route to a winery. On the way, we see groups of slum dwellings that appeared to have been around long enough to have a sense of organization, with dirt roads and street layouts. Sometimes you could tell that the residents of these settlements were gradually improving their very modest properties. Still, the poverty we saw was disappointing. Our guide assures us that all Uruguayans, regardless of status, know that their laws protect everybody.

We reach the winery and we are in another world--an upper-class world, as opposed to the poor, middle and upper-middle class worlds we have seen so far. The winery, an outgrowth of a family bakery business started by Italian immigrants over a century ago, is beautifully designed and maintained. Our visit includes a tour of the owner's private museum of antique cars and motorcycles, a visit to the winery and the vineyards, a tasting of four wine varieties, and a lunch that includes sautéed vegetables, beef, lamb, wonderful breads, and dulce de leche (caramel) flan for dessert. Delicioso! The meal is accompanied by live music and tango dancing--we learn that Uruguayans and Argentinians share this lively tradition. Throughout our time at the winery we are able to observe Uruguayan and other South American visitors as they spend a day off in the beautiful countryside enjoying the music, sipping wine and dining on the region's simple but extraordinary cuisine.

We purchase 2 bottles of wine - including a Merlo Tannat - which has notes of berry, tobacco, and chocolate - one of the wines from the tasting. The ship has a policy that they will wave the "corkage fee" if you have been on a sponsored visit to a vineyard. The ship makes money by selling drinks, and if you bring in your own liquor, they charge you a service charge. Still, that's better than their holding the wine until the end of the trip. The vineyard is "Bouza". You may be able to find it in the US.

Alas, no wifi was available during our tour. We look forward to two days in Buenos Aires, coming up next, expecting that such a large city would surely be more connected to the outside world.

Stanley and Going North

Port Stanley and the trip North

There was excitement in the Drake Passage on Thursday, February 4 as we approached the Falklands. Waves were 20 feet high, or higher. Many passengers confined themselves to their cabins. A dramatic moment occurred when, with the roll of the ship, enormous waves crashed onto the deck outside the dining room on the 7th floor. Dishes and glassware went sliding. Alice managed to save her food, which was trying to make an exit from the table. The staff acted reflexively fast, and there was little breakage. The whole thing happened so fast that we were momentarily stunned by the drama: those were super huge waves! We broke out in spontaneous applause that we'd come through unscathed. And surely we were not the only ones to give a thought to the perils encountered by the early explorers to this part of the world, and be grateful for our seaworthy ship with its safety technologies.

On February 5 we arrived at the Falkland Islands and its capital, Port Stanley. We were lucky: it's possible for our ship to land in the Falklands only about 20% of the time, due to rough seas. The harbor area is too small for the ship, so we take the long tender ride into the town. Less than 3,000 people live in the Falklands, although it is the size of Connecticut. There are two major islands and almost 700 small islands, most uninhabited. About 2,500 people live in the little town of Stanley.

Stanley has modest houses with lovely English flower gardens; most homes appear to have greenhouse-like appendages, which we later learn allow the residents to grow their own vegetables, as it's very expensive to import them. We are on the island to visit a Rock Hopper Penguin colony. These small penguins are on the Murrell Farm, 20 minutes outside of Stanley. It's a "modest" farm, "only" 10,000 acres, with lots of sheep and cows roaming in sparse grasses. The penguins are quite a distance from the fields across barren, stone-studded, uneven terrain. To navigate this very rough 12-mile route, we are loaded into 4x4 vehicles for the one-hour ride (each way, meaning our speed was only 5 to 15 miles an hour) to the colony on the coast. Tightly packed on hard seats, we lurch and bounce over the peaty heavily-rutted moor. The low-growing Lee Bush--whose tiny bright red fruit, called Diddle Dee berries, is used by the locals to make jam--is the primary greenery.

The penguins are perched on dark gray rocky cliffs overlooking the sea. Since they don't fly, it's a long and awkward climb for them from the sea to their nests. We observe mostly fuzzy gray adolescent chicks, with a few black and white parents standing guard. These penguins, one of five varieties, have V-shaped white eyebrows that give them a fierce look. The majority of parent penguins are out fishing to get dinner for their young. We have an hour with the penguins; like them we are buffeted by chilly winds. Then we have another hour-long rough ride back to the farm, and then we go on into Stanley in the 4x4s.

The island is independent, but it has a British military base to forestall another invasion. The Falkland war, in 1982, is evidenced by a memorial, abandoned watch towers, and a number of unexploded land mines left behind by the Argentines. Because we have visited the Falklands, our ship cannot go directly to Buenos Aires. Argentina not only will not trade with the Falklands, it does not allow ships that have visited the Falklands to come directly to Argentina from there. Ships carrying produce and other supplies used to come to the Falklands from Chile to Stanley before going on to Argentina, but now the ships tend to bypass the Falklands because, given the small market for goods, it's not worth a visit if the much larger Argentine market would not admit them. It was surprising that, nearly 35 years after the war, the conflict is still affecting the Falklanders so much. The subject is frequently in conversations. The Argentinians (called "Arggies" for short by some of the Falklanders) apparently coveted the islands' fishing industry and oil reserves.

We explore a supermarket in Stanley and observe how expensive produce is; it is no wonder that residents grow as much as they can. On the other hand, the meats available--especially the beef, lamb and mutton--look very good and are not much different in price than in the U.S. We are told that there was a shortage of eggs in the Falklands until the following week, and that our ship supplied all its extra eggs to help out. This will not be a hardship, as our ship will be able to re-supply in Montevideo. WiFi was sporadically available in Stanley, but at a ridiculous price; we continue to ask our friends' and families' forebearance, as we are not yet able to respond to your individual emails. (Maybe in Montevideo or Buenos Aires there will be liberal access? We can only hope.)

On Friday evening, we attend a Jewish Sabbat service on board, as we have become friendly with the ship's rabbi and his wife and are interested in learning more about the Jewish faith. There were about a dozen Jewish passengers in attendance and we enjoyed the service and the simple refreshments following, including, to our delight, gefilte fish, mandelbrot (delicious almond-based biscotti-like treats) and rugelach (crust rolled up like croissants, filled with nuts and honey). We later had dinner with this group in the main dining room and enjoyed the warmth of the people and their excellent lively conversation. Among them were two sisters from South Africa now living in Toronto, a retired Las Vegas-based pawnbroker named Henry who told an amazing story about finding his long-lost sister following the Holocaust, and a man named Nyron who, until retirement, headed the Far East office of the Associated Press. (When asked what news source he considers most reliable, he said The Financial Times--and expressed concern that the Chinese had recently bought it.)

We continue to play duplicate bridge when schedule permits, and are pleased to report that we are scoring in the middle of the pack, among some mighty strong contenders. There can be plenty of drama during a "silent" bridge game!

We are now sailing toward Montevideo, Uruguay--due to dock tomorrow. Then we'll backtrack to visit Buenos Aires on February 9. This is Super Bowl Sunday--and we will see the game if the satellite connection holds up. It will start here at 8:30 PM our time, as we are two time zones East of US Eastern time.

We are still in awe of the sights we saw in the Antarctic. In the Weddell Sea, for example, we saw a 130-mile-long iceberg that broke off from the Southern ice shelf. The National Science Foundation has placed a GPS on the iceberg, and has been tracking its movements for the last 10 years. We passengers still marvel about our astonishing experience, talking more about that than about our anticipation of the many outstanding (and warmer!) venues yet to be visited--though, of course, we do talk about the Zika virus, coming our way in Brazil. We will be traveling in the epicenter of the outbreak, and are ready with our DEET. The ship's leaders are keeping us informed, vigilant and as safe as possible. We learn today from another passenger that while 130 of our merry band, who enrolled for just the first half of the trip, will be disembarking at Buenos Aires, there will be only 30 new passengers boarding to take the second half of the South America circumnavigation. We wonder if this is because of the fear of exposure to Zika. If the problem is not brought under control, the economic impact to Brazil and other affected countries will be huge. We have heard that currently only Chile and Canada are considered "safe" in this hemisphere.

More Ice, Waves, and on to Port Stanley

The third day of cruising the Antarctic is fantastic. The absence of sea ice allows us to enter the Weddell Sea, where Shackleton's second expedition was caught in the ice. There's very little sea ice now because it's summer, but we see many large tabular icebergs floating around us, some of them hundreds of feet high. They have been loosened from the extensive Ice Shelf that covers the continent in the winter (our Summer), doubling the continent's size. By the end of the day, we turn toward Port Stanley in the Falkland Islands. Today we are in rough seas and gale-force winds in the South Atlantic), making our way North. We notice many fewer passengers around the ship. Many are staying in their rooms, perhaps uncomfortable with the ship's rolling, or maybe they're just reading and napping--favorite pastimes between the many activities available.

Although Antarctica holds 90 percent of the world's ice (70 percent of it's fresh water), it is the driest continent on earth. It has the highest average elevation of any continent. Because of these features, it makes an excellent site for a telescope. The 24-hour night during the winter, the height, and the lack of pollution make it almost the equal of the Hubble insofar as there are minimal atmospheric problems interfering with observation. NASA launches large balloons, which circle the continent in 40 days, following the prevailing wind currents. Research packages are then dropped for pickup, using small explosive charges. Antarctica is the engine for much of the southern hemisphere's weather and ocean currents. Research here holds the insights that we need to manage, and change, the rate of global warming.

Thanks to the Antarctic Treaty, the continent is managed cooperatively by those countries willing to undertake scientific activities for peaceful purposes. We have had daily briefings on the treaty, history, and ongoing research. it is clear from what we learn that the global warming issues are critical to resolve. The damage, according to our reports, may be reversible, but it will take 30 years or more to reverse course for the hole in the Ozone, and that will require concerted international efforts. As we undergo changes, warm-blooded animals (endothermic) adapt better and faster than cold-blooded ones (exothermic). If adverse change happens too fast, or we fail to correct ongoing warming, the endothermic creatures--such as the all-important krill in the South Atlantic Ocean, which is the dietary mainstay of the ocean ecosystem--will be harmed. We learned that increasing acidification of sea water can cause organism de calcification: their shells soften and dissolve. Our speakers are polite about addressing global warming, acknowledging that it is a controversial subject, but they lay out overwhelmingly convincing evidence that the Earth is in grave trouble.

The adaptation of animals to the environment here is impressive. Animals need to grow quickly to survive. A seal pup, for example, can gain 5 pounds a day by drinking his mother's super-fat milk.

Because of the weather, the show this evening has been changed. There is too much heaving to allow the dancers to perform their variety show. A pianist and a mime-comedian are being pressed into service. If things are not calmer by the morning, we may have to cancel our visit to Port Stanley.

We have now traveled 8,520 nautical miles on this trip, and we're just starting for home. What a wonderful adventure we are having!

February 2 - Antarctica Days

February 2 - Antartica Days

We are in the middle of 4 days cruising the coasts of Antartica. The first two days have been along the coast of the Antarctic Peninsula. Today we are in the South Shetland Islands.

The first day was overcast, with the cloud ceiling a few hundred feet above the ship, luminous and gray. We see icebergs of all sizes sculpted into fantastic shapes by the strong winds. There are large glaciers slowly gliding into the sea from the rocky snow-covered mountains on the shores of the mainland and the islands. Snow-covered cliffs disappear into the gray limitless sky. Occasionally there is a break in the gray allowing us to see some of the peaks beyond the shore. Antarctica broke off from the southern tip of South America, and the mountains we see are part of the Andes. We see whales and birds. The humpback whales we see are "logging." Although they are right next to the ship, all that is visible is their dorsal fin, which looks like a log on the water. The whales are here to feed on the Krill, and bulk-up for the trip north to their breeding grounds near the equator, opposite Ecuador. By the afternoon of the first day, snow begins to fall--so our view of the continent disappears behind a curtain of white. I guess we didn't escape the snow this winter after all. We cruise through Dalman Bay, Whilemena Bay, the Errera Channel, and Paradise Harbor. A quote by T.L.M. Sunter, a sea captain, in a guidebook provided by the ship summarized well what we are seeing: "....an unparalleled combination of grandeur, beauty, vastness, loneliness and malevolence...."

Antarctica, the size of the continental United States and Mexico together, is the highest continent on earth, due to the accumulation of snow. The center of this continent is the driest place on earth, but we won't visit there. We are cruising only the most accessible coastline. The second day is sunny and we see what we missed the first day. We are visited by 12 members from the United States' Palmer Station, one of three research stations the US maintains in Antartica. We have a briefing from the Station Chief, and a Q&A session with the team members. The station is part of the National Science Foundation's programs. For those who are interested, their web address is www.usap.gov. Some members of the team have been at all the US sites over the years. If the station at the pole had a tee shirt, one of them wisecracked, it would read "Ski Antartica: two inches of powder, over two miles of base." Under the snow base is the rocky continent of Antartica, compressed to about 300 feet high by the weight of 2 miles of snow. The team leaves in their inflatable Zodiac boats. Palmer station has less than 50 people during the research period--the Southern Hemisphere summer months. The South Pole is an excellent place for research, even particle physics. There is a study to detect neutrinos, the very small particles that pass through the earth, using holes drilled at the South and North Poles (to capture the particle's comings and goings.)

The largest terrestrial animal in Antartica is the wingless fly, about 4 cm in size. The larger animals, penguins, seals, whales, etc. spend most of their time in the water. There is an Antarctic ice fish, which has no hemoglobin; its blood is clear, not red. Most animals here have an antifreeze-like substance in their blood which stops internal ice from forming. Factoid learned yesterday during an hour-long lecture on penguins: they don't have short legs at all; instead, their legs are encased with skin and waterproof feathers down to their ankles, like harem pants, so their bodies stay warm while swimming.

We cruise by several Gentoo penguin colonies and are warned about the smell--but we don't detect that smell from indoors. The sights are lovely, with long days to allow for maximal enjoyment. The sun rises at about 4:30 am and sets at 10:27 pm. Sumner and Alice have drinks in the Crow's Nest watching the sun set while listening to Bert Bacharach (sp?) tunes on the piano.

We are currently on our way to the Antarctic Sound, which will have spectacular views, if the weather holds--and perhaps more whale sightings too. We expect one more day in the South Shetlands before we leave for the Falkland (Malvinas if you're Argentinian) Islands.

The outdoor temperatures are just above freezing; passengers willing to brave walking the decks in mid-morning are being treated to hot and hearty soups. A good number of people have colds or have been seasick (when the winds are high, bags for this purpose are attached to stair railings). We overhear occasional grousing by some passengers who think we are spending too much time cruising this gorgeous cold and barren scenery, but in the main the passengers, like us, are fascinated with this astonishing and very foreign place. We often wish we could look things up online to learn more--but alas, we can't do that. We are now at Day 29 of being without access to the Internet, with the exception of the few minutes needed to post these chapters to the blog. If we tried to include photos, this uploading process could take hours. Today in the library, Alice overheard a woman complain to her husband that she had paid for 20 minutes of satellite connection time to access one website that still had not loaded. But our 29-day regime of Internet isolation pales so much with the isolation of the many explorers to this region of years past who suffered enormously, often without even having sunshine with which to get their bearings. Now, at least, the ships traveling here have sonar and other navigational methods to allow us to wend our way safely through daunting icebergs as we navigate strong waves of 20 to 25 knots.

Crossing the Drake Passage

We are on our way to Antarctica, crossing the Drake passage. Sumner came down with an annoying cold that slowed him down for a few days, so this is a chance to catch up on our reporting. For sure, the cold wasn't a result of being on this ship, where all the railings are washed constantly, and everyone squirts Purell on their hands at every public doorway. No, the cold probably came from exposure to some guests on the excursion bus rides, who obviously had bad colds but didn't want to miss out on seeing things. By the way, the need to be careful about not spreading germs has a comic aspect: comedians include funny observations about the ship's mil-spec sanitation efforts in their routines, to everyone's amusement.

Punta Arenas was our last stop in Chile. It's been almost exactly 500 years since Magellan discovered the passage through Tierra deal Fuego that bears his name. We are going west to east, following the prevailing winds and charts. Magellan went the other, more challenging, way, with no charts. In the town square is a statue of Magellan, with smaller statues representing the natives he found here, now extinct. The foot of one the sculpted natives shines in the sun, rubbed by passing visitors for good luck.

We visit Punta Arenas's "Pioneer Cemetery," which is actually the burial place for everyone from this remote city. There are magnificent mausoleums and gardens, which announce the waves of immigrants who have come here and made their money in the area. Initial settlers were attracted by the offer of free land. The Braun-Menendez family is proudly represented, and later we visit the family's elaborate mansion, now a museum near the city's main square. They owned large sheep ranches and also supplied the steamships that came through the area until the Panama Canal diverted much of the traffic. The cemetery also includes the grave of the last Onas, one of the tribes now extinct from the area. The grave has a statue of a native, its hand also shining from being touched for good luck. The wall around the gravesite has plaques attesting to the prayers to this native that have been favorably answered. There is a coin box as well, and candles--a shrine.

We also visit a ranch for a snack, with the usual empanadas and Pisco sours. Then we see a demonstration of sheep shearing, and visit one family's small museum before returning to the ship.

The next day we cruise the Beagle Sound on the way to the city of Ushuaia, Argentina. This gives Sumner a chance to nurse his cold, as we cruise through Glacier Alley, stopping at large glaciers along the way. We cruise as far south as Cape Horn, at the very end of the continent, and the captain manages to send our passports ashore so they can be stamped at the lighthouse. Then we double-back to Usuaia.

 In Ushuaia, we have a catamaran tour that allows us to visit the island homes of cormorants (several kinds), and islands covered with South American Sea Lions. The boat allows us to come close to the islands and take great pictures. We leave in the evening for Antarctica. About an hour after we depart, however, the Norwegian captain announces on the public address system that we will be returning to the city because a passenger has serious health issues. This is not a cruise you would want to take without a good health and travel insurance policy!

Yesterday and today, we passengers have gone back to school to learn about this important area. The ship has brought on board a team of naturalists, historians, and explorers who provide illustrated lectures and background for the trip. Today we learned about the ecology of the area. At lunch today, we sit with one of the speakers, who tells about eating whale and seal blubber--not something we'd want to do unless desperate, as some Antarctic explorers have been. He also explains why commercial harvesting of krill is a bad thing for the ecosystem. Krill is the mainstay food for marine life here, but it's being taken for human profit: it's rumored to be healthier for humans than regular fish oil. We are now in the Southern Ocean, halfway across the Drake Passage, which is known for storms and heavy seas. We are lucky--though the waves are high and the ship is heaving a bit, things could be much, much worse. Tomorrow we are told the seas will be calm as we cruise alongside Antarctica, hoping to see whales, seals, albatrosses and penguins.

Nearing the End of the World

Nearing the end of the World

We have traveled 5816 Nautical miles since we left Fort Lauderdale. Tomorrow we will be in Punta Arenas, the last port in Chile. Two days later we'll be in Ushuaia, Argentina--considered the southern-most city in the world, or "the city at the end of the world." From there we will travel past Cape Horn and on toward Antarctica.

To understand how far we have traveled, and will travel, consider the following. Using latitude, we started in Fort Lauderdale, 26 degrees North. We will be traveling to a latitude 64 degrees South. Ninety degrees of latitude is 1/4 of the way around the circumference of the earth. By the time we return, we will have traveled half-way around the circumference. Even now, we are as far East as Greenland--two time zones east of Baltimore time.

At dinner last night, from other guests, we learn of the adventures this ship had a few years back. Traveling near Cape Horn, the ship was struck by two mammoth rogue waves which caused all the china and liquor to be destroyed. Until Holland America could fly in replacements (into Ushuaia) meals were served on paper plates. Some passengers were so spooked by the event that they refused to reboard the ship in Ushuaia, where the ship retreated after the waves hit, and rented a car to drive back to the U.S. Apparently they soon realized the error of their ways, so they reboarded the ship in Argentina. (It's a long drive to the U.S. from there!) We were assured that since that wave incident, our ship has been equipped with improved stabilizers. BTW, last night's special South American menu included, as the entree, a dish featuring....Tongue. It had been slow-cooked for five hours, and was served with a delicious sauce. Sumner, a much braver soul when it comes to trying unusual foods, received extra slices from Alice. She managed two bites and found it to be marginally better than beef liver. Luckily the menu also included beef empanadas, a little corn-based cheese-topped casserole, shrimp, and a delicious rendition of butternut squash soup that was long on beans and short on chunks of squash. We are gaining ideas for menus to make for family and friends when we return. Be warned!

We saw a large glacier this morning--this being one of the few areas in the world that has glaciers. Some of the islands in the Fjords still have snow on them, though it's the middle of the Summer down here. We learned during our tour of the town of Coyhaique that climate change and global warming are having a big impact even in this very remote area of the world. There is much less rain in recent years, and while they used to get 3 meters of snow a year in the Coyhaique region, for the last few years it has not snowed at all there. They are believers in global warming down here. (We hope those up North are dealing well with all the snow! We are eagerly reading the New York Times news reports about the storm.)

Today, in addition to learning the importance of latitude in geography and time, we enjoyed an illustrated talk about the ancient peoples of the Tierra del Fuego (Land of Fire) region of Patagonia. There were once four tribes; now they are all gone, with the last full-blooded Yahgan survivor dying in 2002. Quite a story--more on this later, once we visit the city of Punta Arenas and town of Usuaia and gather more details. For now, suffice it to say that Darwin was strongly influenced in his theory of evolution by the three surviving kidnapped Yahgans he encountered on board the "Beagle 2" voyage as they were being returned to their habitat. They spent two years in England, traveling there on "Beagle 1," being taught English, manners and religion so they could serve as contacts and guides for future European explorers.

We are stunned by the incredible scenery in this surprisingly extensive southernmost part of the world. Our glacier-studded mountain-lined route through the Strait of Magellan has been a very smooth cruise, unlike the times when the ship has had to go into the ocean between sheltered passages. We are steeling for almost a week of cruising in heavy seas in the Drake Passage, to and from sightings of Antarctica--weather permitting. We are told that very soon the tree line will disappear.....

From Vocanoes to Fjords

Volcanoes to Fjords in Chile

Our next port stop is Puerto Montt, Chile. As we make our long way to the Osorno Volcano, we have a brief stop to view lush flora and a spectacular whitewater river in a national park. Chile has over 150 volcanoes, perhaps 65 or which are active. From the national park, we can see Osorno looming in the distance. We pass enormous fresh water lakes. Although the day appears overcast at ground level, once we drive up toward the summit of the volcano we are above the low-lying clouds, and it is gloriously sunny. To further enjoy the scene, Sumner urges taking a long and rather scary-looking ski-lift ride to have a look into a red caldera, newly formed at the side of the volcano.  Alice gamely goes along, at first white-knuckled, and we glide over the volcanic slope. It is eerily and peacefully silent. We marvel at how little protection we seem to have from the ground a hundred feet below--just one thin pipe to clasp; no seat belts. Yet we are not afraid--there is no time for fear when there is such a spectacular view that encompasses not only Osorno, but three other nearby volcanoes. We then trudge through deep volcanic sand and climb a steep hill and look down on the caldera. (We will save a thousand words of description by promising pictures later, when we can download faster.)

From the volcano, we make our way back in our motor coach down the steep switchbacked road to Puerto Varas, the city of roses, located on the freshwater Lake Llanquihue. The town has a European resort feel, perhaps because many Germans settled this area prior to World War I. At the nearby Patagonia Hotel, strikingly modern and built on a monumental scale, we are greeted with yet another Pisco Sour, wine, beer, water (even Coke!), empanadas, and fresh salmon (perched on a vegetable flan), with a blueberry flan for dessert. Only Norway exports more salmon than Chile, and this area is a principal source of the fish, much of it farm-raised. After lunch, we explore the lovely lake-side town before returning to the ship. As usual in South America so far, we observe many "independent" dogs, who seem quite at home without leashes or hovering owners.

The following day we are deep into Patagonia at Puerto Chacabuco. This is a frontier area. We drive through the rugged mountainous terrain, stopping at the Rio Simpson Regional Museum of Natural Resources, and walk down to the river canyon and valley. We visit a waterfall and finally the city of Coyhaique, the capital of the region. Alice explores the few shops that are open (it's Sunday), but there are no mineral shops, only stores selling jewelry and woolens. We do find excellent chocolate ice cream treats, which hold us over until the "snack" stop. Alice proposes a wager with Sumner that this stop will not have Pisco sours. She loses. We enjoy wonderful Chilean cheeses, empanadas, brochettes of meats, and sweets, along with the usual wine and those omnipresent Pisco sours. "Snack" does not begin to describe the array; we made a lunch of it. The last two ports have required transportation by tender (life boats) to the port. We arrive too late at the Chacabuco port to enjoy the free wiFi at the terminal. The ship provides hot chocolate while we wait for the tenders. Temperature is now in the 50s, as we work our way south.

Today is January 25, and we are sailing through the Chilean Fjords ("fjords" are formed by glaciers flowing into the sea, while "sounds" are formed by rivers flowing into the sea). Last night the seas were quite rough on the not-too-Pacific Ocean. Now, in the afternoon, we are cruising one of the Strait of Magellan (Drake found the same channel by kidnapping a Portuguese sailor to learn about Magellan's discovery). Both Magellan and Drake had to face mutinies as they went south along the Atlantic side of Patagonia. Apparently there was a Catholic-held belief that Hell was located at the South Pole (although no maps were available), and some seamen rebelled at the idea of going there. Two lectures this morning covered the explorations of Tierra del Fuego, considered "the end of the occupied world," as well as information on glaciers and their creation of fjords. The more we learn about this wildly beautiful region, the more we want to learn. A feeling of anticipation is building among us passengers about seeing and even setting foot on Antarctica; this will occur in just a few days.

Tonight will a 5 course dinner with paired wines, exploring Chilean cuisine. Alice is not looking forward to the main dish: tongue! We are assuming it will be beef tongue, but who knows? At least it will not be seal blubber mush, which sustained the Shackleton crew during its long Antarctic travails a century ago.

From Pisco to Art

From Pisco to Art

Our first stop in Chile is Coquimbo, a seaside port. They are still recovering from damage caused by a tidal wave emanating from an earthquake off the coast. The beach is smaller now, and the first floor of many buildings by the beach show the damage from a powerful flood of seawater. Coquimbo started as a place for ships to dock outside the small city of La Serena, but it has grown into a tourist destination itself, a magnet for vacationers and retirees with cabana areas and high-rise apartments overlooking magical ocean views. We had a chance to walk the extensive gray-sand beach and watch surfers in wetsuits navigate substantial waves. (The water is, pardon the pun, chilly in Chile, owing to the Humboldt current.) Our guide said Coquimbo is where the nightlife happens, while nearby La Serena, also a retiree haven, is more staid. We notice exercise machines set up along beach sidewalks, in hopes the citizenry will increase their exercise. Our guide doesn't think Chileans' burgeoning girth will reduce: "They love empanadas too much," she says.

We passed through La Serena on our way to the Elqui valley - a narrow but fertile strip of land in the heart of a plateau surrounded by barren cactus-studded hills. A large dam has been built there to support the region's agriculture, but the water is noticeably low, the effect of global warming and this year's "el nino effect." (Though this trip is taking place at the start of the rainy season, we've only had fair skies on land so far--great for us tourists, but not good for the agricultural of the countries we've visited so far.) Our destination is the Capel distillery, which brews Pisco, Chile's national drink (Peru's too, come to think of it), a distilled alcohol derived from a blend of grapes, usually diluted to 90 proof. Chileans, we were told, annually consume six bottles per capita of this potent beverage. Chips of American or French Oak are added to the alcohol to give it a color and aroma. The "best" Pisco is aged for 1-2 years. It is also sold pre-mixed as "Pisco sour" (28 proof). We discover that the distillery had WiFi at the visitor center, so we are able to download emails and read a few messages. Sumner especially appreciates messages from his sister and niece, with happy birthday wishes and some news from home. We have time to send only brief replies before the tour continues.

We have a large lunch--plate-sized heavy-crusted empanadas meagerly filled with ground beef, hard-boiled egg and onion, and 12-ounce slabs of steak with rice and vegetables. Of course, Pisco sours are on offer! For a change, one can order Coke or orange soda, but we are leery of the ice. Sumner has his own Pisco sour and Alice's as well. This leads to a restful nap on the bus as we return to La Serena. We visit the city's archaeological museum, where there is a large Moai brought from Easter Island (a possession of Chile, oddly enough, though it is very far away). There is some mystery to the island's large statues, and questions as to why they face inward on the island.

The next day we are in Valparaiso, nicknamed "Valpo" by the locals. We have a small tour group which will visit 3 artists' studios/homes and have drinks and appetizers at the end of the tour. The artists are delightful, our guide doing most of the translation. (Here we really miss the ability to post pictures with the descriptions.) The first artist is a painter of human figures and portraits. He is obviously influenced by Gaughin and Soutine. The second artist is a sculptor using found objects and recycling them into art. The third artist (Loro Coiron) works in graphics, using linoleum blocks rather than woodblocks. He captures the city life of Valparaiso. The city is alive with art, and most of the walls on the hillsides are covered with colorful graphics, some political, some not. In general, these are far superior to the usual graffiti. At the end of the trip, our group ascends a funicular to Conception Hill, one of the city's many hills overlooking the harbor. Our guide says it's the most desirable residential area. The colorful houses, many with facades of corrugated metal, show British and French colonial influences. We have a lovely extended appetizer time (Pisco sours again!) on the broad patio of a restaurant with beautiful views, and become better acquainted with those in our group. We are delighted with the variety of fellow travelers we're meeting--from Norway, Austria, England, Germany, Australia, Japan, Canada, Sweden, etc. Much of the chat is about travels taken or future travels, which is a common bond. (We've strayed a bit into the topic of politics, and are pleased to say Donald Trump is not well regarded by anyone we've met so far; in fact, those from other countries are expressing concern that Trump could be elected.) The diversity of nationalities, Sumner thinks, may explain why the Prinsendam cuisine is so savory and spicy, compared to what is served on ships serving primarily at Anglo passengers. Vive la difference!

In the course of all this, we learn that Alice and Sumner are tied for second place in the last duplicate game. And this is after Alice has had one lesson. She's a quick learner.

Tonight is the Black and White Ball on the ship. They call it a "Gala" evening, rather than "formal." Sumner will wear his Tux and Alice is ready to tango (well, cha cha, anyway) with a flounced black gown.

On the way to Chile

On the way to Chile

After returning from Machu Picchu we had one more day in Peru. On the second night  in Cusco, sleep-deprived Alice forgot that the 4-star hotel didn't offer potable water and used the local tap water to brush her teeth. Sumner caught himself in time to dilute the tap water with bottled water, but he still had some adverse effects. Several people in our 28-person group were made sick from the water; two could not make the trek to Machu Picchu, two others could not make the walking tour of the place, and another person had to be transported directly to the ship on the last day, skipping the Lima tour. It looks as though we'll need to turn to Cipro to attack the little buggers. We were tired enough from our exertions that we decided to give up the trip scheduled for my birthday (January 17), and instead enjoyed a restful day in General San Martin, Peru. The coastal terrain could have passed for Saudi Arabia. After that, we had two days at sea... Time to do laundry and get even more rest. Our fellow Machu Picchu adventurers laid low too; only now are we seeing each other out and about on the ship. Yesterday was an ideal cruise day--bright blue skies and sunny with gently rolling waves, capped off by a glorious and very quick sunset. Today has been overcast, but we've passed the time enjoyably with two and a half hours of duplicate bridge followed by the end of an excellent tango demonstration.

This welcome hiatus gave Sumner enough time to finish "At the Mercy of Nature," a book by Carl N. McDaniel (gift from Betty). It's the story of the Shackleton attempt to explore Antarctica and is an excellent adventure story. McDaniel uses the Shackleton experience as a metaphor for the planet's precarious environmental situation, compounded by increasing global warming: highly recommended. Alice has started the book and says it makes her feel cold--a harbinger for what is to come on this trip. The temperature is already in the 60s during the day, as we work our way south.

We celebrated Sumner's birthday in the main dining room last night, in the company of four jovial Canadians and serenaded by a loud, boisterous set of Indonesian waiters with drums.

Sumner discovered that Alice (with only a 7-day Holland America cruise before this one) was promoted to the rank of 3 star mariner. He was only a 2 star, even with the earlier Alaska cruise. It took several days before Sumner's pin and 3 star status was awarded. A very humbling experience to be outranked by a newbie to cruising. At least now we are even.

Tomorrow we will be in Coquimbo, Chile, with a tour of natural attractions scheduled. The start time is merciful: 8:45 instead of the earlier start times we've endured, the most grueling so far being the 3:00 a.m. wake-up on the second night in Cusco.

Seeing Machu Picchu

January 12- Preparations
Tomorrow we leave for the trip to Machu Picchu. Breakfast will be served from 4:30 AM to 5:00 AM with the group leaving at 5. We pack, decide what to take. Assemble our walking sticks, practice using them, and disassemble them for packing. We have dinner with the ship's Rabbi and non-denominational Protestant Minister, and their wives. The Rabbi promises a spiritual experience in Machu Picchu.. The evening show is an energetic musician and his dancing wife. He plays the Xylosynth - half xylophone and half synthesizer. He played Canon in D, pieces from Carmen, and some rock themes by bands I didn't know. Tomorrow the big adventure.

At 5 AM we get our passports back, along with boarding passes for the two flights that will take us to Cusco. We have been taking altitude medication. Cusco is over 11,000 feet high. We change planes in Lima, and arrive in Cusco around 12:30 PM. We have been awake for over 8 hours. We check-in at the Palacio Del Inka Luxury Hotel. We have a fancy lunch, then off to tour Cusco. After lunch we tour Sacsayhuaman, an Inca site honoring the sun god (which looked liked like a fortress to the Spanish), with walls built of stones weighing over 40 tons. After walking through a portion of the site, we visited an alpaca weaving store (ostensively to learn the difference between different weaves and animals, but really to get us to buy things), and finally visited the Plaza des Armes (main city square in Cusco). With two churches, a convent, and a KFC (discreetly identified), plus a fountain with a statue of Pachacutec, arguably the most important Inca chief. After a short time at the hotel, we go to dinner and a show in a nearby restaurant. Sumner has a chance to try seviche, and is told that in Peru, it should be fresh, and must be eaten within two hours of preparation. To bed at the hotel by 10:30 PM - awake for 18 hours.

Sleeping is difficult. The room is 78 degrees. Alice sets the temperature, hoping to cool the room, and there is a setting indicating there is air conditioning in this luxury hotel. It doesn't work, however. During the night the temperature doesn't change. Alice calls the desk and complains. A man arrives and opens the window. Now we have heat, exhaust fumes, and street noise. Ah well, it's 4:30 AM, time for breakfast and then bus and train connections to get to Machu Picchu.

January 15 - The Visit
Since it is the rainy season, the train station in Cusco is not open, and we must drive 1 1/2 hours to the next available train station. We will be descending from over 13,000 feet to over 8,000 feet. We will be taking the Hiram Bingham train ("Indiana Bingham," who "discovered" the place, was the model for Indiana Jones) with first class food and service--once we reach the train station. Unfortunately, we were slowed by a rest stop and much traffic on two-lane roads, and we missed our train. We enjoyed incredible views of the Andes, though. Our bus (we have three small buses, because large buses couldn't handle the roads) races down the mountains and arrives at the next station just ahead of the train. We learn later that our guide bribed the station manager to have the train stopped so we could board. We have an excellent lunch on the train, including filet mignon and wine, and arrive at Aguas Calientes - a hot springs at the foot of the mountains. From there we board buses for the half-hour ride up to Machu Picchu. The ascent reminds Sumner of the ride up from the Fjord in Montenegro. From the window seat, you can't see the side of the road, and it's a long way down. We arrive at the site at around 1:30 PM. At the end of our tour of the site, we will have tea just outside the entrance gate at a lovely hotel before we board the buses at 5 PM to return to the train station for the trip to Cusco and our hotel.

We divide the group in three, so that our guide has less than 10 folks to guide through the citadel of Machu Picchu. One of the 7 wonders of the world, the site is awesome. There has been considerable archeological work and speculation about the site, the culture, and the science of the incas. As described by our guide, the society had a communist, utopian cast with roots going back to Asia and Egypt. In 2 1/2 hours we covered much of the site, at least on the available cliff. Our walking sticks were invaluable. Our pictures will have to follow when we have enough bandwidth. We started down, tired but happy, at 5 PM. Caught the train just before 6 PM. On the train we had Pisco Sours in the club car, listening to the four-piece band; ate a 4 course dinner with wine in the dining car; and shared stories of our adventures. The bus ride from the train station to the hotel was exciting and long. It was a little before 11 PM when we arrived back at our hotel. We still needed to pack for the 3:30 AM wake-up call and early departure to the Cusco airport. Back in Lima, we had a tour of the city, mercifully short, and arrived back at the ship by 1:00 PM. Dear reader, you will understand why we did not report to you yesterday. Much more to report, but that will have to wait.

The first 8 days - On line at last

WiFi is much less available in South American Ports. As a result, Sumner decided to purchase the (outrageous) Internet subscription on the ship, to allow us to share some of our experiences. This is catch-up time. We are already on the West coast of South America, on our way to our first port in Peru--Salaverry. We won't see much of this port as we have a flight to Lima and then another to Cusco to get ready for our trip to Machu Picchu day after tomorrow. We must leave the ship at 5:30 AM. We managed to pack our walking sticks, recommended by Nancy, in our carry on luggage. We were able to assemble and disassemble them, with some practice, and we practiced using them by walking around the ship.

January 4 we joined the ship - and were in our stateroom by early afternoon. The next 4 days were at sea. Meals are wonderful, and portions have been mercifully sized to keep us only a little out of trim in 67 days. Lectures every morning are followed by duplicate bridge on sea days. Alice is gradually remembering her high school days when she played bridge and is surprised at all the variants in bidding. Evenings, after dinner includes dancing, shows, and movies. So far we have seen "The Martian" and "Mister Holmes," and recommend both. We also managed to watch the Redskins lose their first playoff game, and saw the first half of the Alabama - Clemson game. We have good access to the New York Times, so we feel somewhat connected to the World.

Interesting factoid: in South America there are no illegitimate children. Children conceived out of wedlock are called "natural children."

 We had our first "formal night" on our way to Costa Rica. Since we have no assigned meal time, we eat when we please. This means different meal partners every night as well. January 6th we had dinner with Claudia Manchester, the sister of singer Melissa Manchester, who was the guest performer that evening. We enjoyed her act so much that we watched both her shows. Melissa Manchester is a great performer, and the show included clips of her performing with other greats like Stevie Wonder on harmonica  - as she is promoting her new album.

Friday January 8 we finally reached land. A few leafy islands preceded landing at Puerto Limon, Costa Rica. Up at 5:45 for in-room breakfast before setting out for the "Rain Forest Canopy & Zip-Line Adventure." Alice insisted that we were NOT afraid!! That changed as we were fitted to our harnesses and handed the heavy metal grappling devices that attached us to the lines, and looked down to the forest floor a couple of hundred feet below. This is not for the faint of heart!

By 10:00 we'd completed 11 zip line trajectories onto 12 platforms--much better than 12 zip lines onto 11 platforms. Each time we came up to a platform we were moving at around 30 or 40 miles an hour, and it seemed impossible that we wouldn't smack into the big trees supporting the platforms, but just at the right moment a guide would apply a brake on the momentum and we were saved. By the time we were done we really were fearless, but the initial prospect was daunting. Wildlife report: Saw only one alleged sloth, a tiny red poison frog (size of small fingernail) and a small bright yellow poisonous snake coiled up under boards on a platform (what was he doing so high up in the treetops?)--plus mucho botanica. Platforms could use repairs and improved maintenance, but even a broken railing didn't alarm us too much because we were well secured. We probably won't need to repeat this experience. We learned the Costa Rican all-purpose expression: "pura vida," which is used as a greeting or general comment on the good life.

Our excellent tour guide, Adrian, told about Costa Rica's "going green." He said about 97% of their power is from sources other than fossil fuels, mostly hydropower. Taxes are high to help fund these and other environmental and social initiatives. Adrian said workers have 9% of their salaries withheld for their retirement and in addition their employers must contribute 23% of their salaries. Costa Rica has no army and (among other criminal justice issues) can't defend against the drug traffickers who have to traverse the country to get to points north. Their jails and prisons are crammed with drug offenders--about 50%, Adrian thought. All along the road to and from the zip line site we saw very modest housing and haphazard commercial entities. Most houses, no matter how impoverished-looking, have iron grates on porches and high fences, as the crime rate is high. Many homes sport satellite dishes on their roofs. The big industries include (in San Jose area in the mountains) computer tech work (Intel microchips, etc.), plus tourism, bananas, coffee, and overland truck shipping between the Atlantic and Pacific coasts (cheaper than using the Panama Canal). Highway across the country is only two lanes, and subject to earthquakes. Train lines were closed down after a massive earthquake some years ago.

January 9 we woke early to experience movement through the Caribbean side of the Panama Canal locks. Ship personnel did a fine job of narrating the process, relating the history of this mammoth project, and offering engineering details. Basic principle: Gravity. Peering through a 20x scope, thanks to fellow passenger Susie, we saw a great blue heron (called "gray" by Brits--and in fact it is gray, maybe bluish gray but not blue). The locks are so narrow that there may be only a foot or two of water on either side as ships are guided through, attached by cables to double-tracked electric-powered two-way engines called "mules." Once through the initial three "steps," we entered a freshwater lake (sourced by copious rainwater, as this region is a rainforest). Canal celebrated its centennial in 1914. Learned there is NOT a different level between the east and west oceans; the locks are needed to step ships up and down over challenging terrain. We saw the adjacent new canal being built for larger ships, parallel to the the current canal. Given the shortage of water, they may have to delay the opening, currently scheduled for April.

Our captain reported it cost $169,000 for our ship to pass through the canal--about $200 per passenger.

In late afternoon we passed into the Pacific. A 92-year-old woman sat by us and said she'd been through the canal many times since 1979 and deplored that so much of the west side had been denuded of vegetation. She sad some tops of the hills had been cut off, too. Alice had noticed the hills didn't look natural but had thought they might have been made of spoil dredged from the channel. The woman told us she'd taken round the world cruises every year for decades, along with other cruises; she spends most of her time on cruise ships because it's safe for a woman alone, she can dare to wear her good jewelry, and she can have a nightlife.

The skyline of Panama City is filled with tall white modern skyscrapers--a striking contrast to the rustic canal route. Sumner says it looks like Dubai.

Sunday January 10,  we had room service breakfast to speed debarcation for our tour of Old Panama. Excellent guide Julian, a Brit expat living in Panama City, led our tour bus on a fascinating walk around an area reminiscent of New Orleans' French Quarter--understandable because both reflect Caribbean colonial Spanish culture. The area we saw, on the waterfront (but low tide revealed mostly mud flats), is being rebuilt after a long period of neglect. Parts are very old, originating in 1600s. Few dogs, but there are colonies of feral cats that keep down the rodent population. Catholics had long and strong influence, we learned, but Jewish and Muslim settlers successfully lobbied for a secular state. Economics gleanings: the canal is an independent nonprofit that turns over excess revenues to support the country's social programs. Basic universal healthcare costs about 9.5% of salary monthly (about $35 a month), and supplemental insurance costs about $29/month more. The guide said you need the latter if you require rush care of serious health problems. This means the poor will have to wait for such care, possibly too long. Public housing doesn't exactly exist; squatters are allowed to take over derelict apartments and are expected to maintain and improve them on their own, and groups of squatters are expected to maintain the complexes. From the look of things, this isn't working, but the guide said the government does not help because it wants the people to be dissatisfied enough to better themselves.

Public school is only 5 hours a day, not enough....but university tuition is free. The first year of university is actually basic preparation for studying at college level. No one age 18 or under is allowed to work, to encourage school attendance.

By January 12 we were in Ecuador. Tuna is the primary industry of our port, Manta. The coastal area is desert. Capo trees all around look like African baobab trees. They are fat-trunked like water heaters. Many were leafless because it's winter here now, but those that were still leafy resembled broccoli crowns. The trees store huge amounts of water to help them survive in dry season, which can last 7 months. Ecuador has its own oil resources, but that causes destruction of rain forests. Guide says it's believed 65% of forests already gone. The economy relies on: Oil #1 (government subsidized); agriculture #2 (esp bananas; also palm oil, rice, corn....). Tuna #3, shrimp farming #4 (main export client is China), #5 is roses in the highlands. Sunrise 6:15 a.m. & sunset 6:15 p.m. all year 'round--ideal for growing. Tourism #6 expected to become more important. #7 is money being sent home by those who've emigrated. Ecuador uses the US dollar for its currency which has helped stabilize the economy but makes tourism more expensive in Ecuador than in other South American countries.

Ecuador has 12 years of mandatory education, but the quality of instruction is mixed depending on regulation. About 5 years ago it was discovered that many "teachers" lacked credentials and got their jobs through friends and nepotism.

Our adventure this day included a long boat ride into an ocean estuary, where we passed along Isla Corzazon (Heart Island), a nature preserve where we could observe beautiful birds (herons, kites, ibises) in their natural habitat. Our group filled two rather primitive boats that had seen better days. We continued from the island to the town of Bahai (which means Bay in Spanish) and toured an archaeology museum showcasing the earliest people of Ecuador, well before the Incas and Spaniards. The trip ended with a delicious vegetarian lunch at the waterfront "Saiananda" spa, where (for those of you who want a real get-away) you can have an air-conditioned room and three vegetarian meals for $90 a day. Not much to see or do around the place, though!


To be continued.....

Alice sees Florida for the first time

The Fort Lauderdale airport is huge & ungainly. We had to walk at least a half mile to get to the shuttle pick-up spot for our hotel (Fairfield Inn & Suites), dragging about 150 pounds of luggage behind us. Quite a workout in the heat and humidity!

Later we walked along a six-lane highway to Cielito Lindo Cuban-Mexican restaurant, one of three eateries within a mile of the inn. Very noisy, with additional booming noise from planes taking off on parallel runway. Sumner had a margarita and a platter of enchilada, taco & chili relleno (huge portion, ***) and Alice had a Cuban dish of savory ground beef "Picollo Criolo" (****). Noticed in the dark on the way back that the Marriott entrance was lined with tall palm trees whose trunks appeared to be encased with concrete. Looked this up and found that there is indeed a "fake palm" industry, and these palms look very realistic and have way less maintenance cost and are less likely to be damaged in storms. The following morning we investigated and found that the Fairfield palms were real, but looked fake. Where the trunk touched the ground, one of these trees had damage at the back and we could see that inside the tree are a system of sucker-like strands instead of wood.

Mystery solved: "In botany, 'tree' is a technical term which does not include palms. Instead, palms --that don't have wood-- are categorized into the "manicot" class of flowering plants (along with orchids, tulips, onions, sugarcane, bamboo, wheat, and crabgrass). " http://www.answers.com/Q/Is_a_palm_tree_really

(Breaks Alice's reportorial heart to know that soon she won't be able to check facts like this because there won't be internet access on the ship.)

Fairfield Suites: surrounded by six lane highway on from and another highway at back, adjacent to airport runway. Ideal for the hearing impaired; others should bring earplugs. Nicely arranged room, comfortable king bed, four teeny tiny pillows. Bath good size. Sofa in anteroom not good for sitting. Two TVs but no privacy for sleeping or watching diff shows. No Kleenex in BR area. Super noisy HVAC that boomed and rumbled. Did not notice this much because of booming and rumbling from jets taking off and landing. One-person coffee machine for four-person room; only one packet of caffeinated "dark" roast that had no flavor.

Breakfast: Sui generis white carb array with a few healthy options. Scrambled eggs made from powder. Butter so cold it could not be spread. Saw one woman eat an entire pat on a corner of toast.

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