Water for Elephants

Gordon and I drove over to Hollywood last night to see Water for Elephants. We missed opening night because of a conflict so we didn’t have a problem with parking. We drove right in and got a choice spot. And we had different seats than our usual ones. They were better—we hoped. We normally sit in row F, which I like, and these were row C. We worried that they might be too close to the stage but they worked out beautifully. The usher stopped to welcome us, saying that we’d enjoy the seats; the people who normally sat there loved them. I don’t know why he felt the to strike up a conversation. Maybe he missed his ‘regulars’. Or maybe he was just feeling friendly. It was a pleasant interlude.

I didn’t know what to expect from the musical. I’d read the book and seen the movie and still couldn’t remember much about it. It didn’t leave much of an impression. And regulars skipping out on good seats? Not a good sign. I thought it’d be boring. Boy, was I wrong. It’s the story of a young man who runs away and joins the circus because he has nothing in his life to return to. He’s taken all the Cornell courses he needed to be a vet but he skipped his final exams. He correctly diagnoses what is wrong with the horse of the star act and is hired by the owner/ringmaster as resident vet and the play is set in motion. The music worked but I can’t remember one hummable song. The staging was magnificent. The fragmented sets stood in for the railroad cars, the circus tent…everything. And the choreography was astonishing. Acrobats were included so the dance numbers included “flying” acts. They must have hired Cirque de Soleil performers. And the puppets were amazing. The actors moving the elephant legs made it seem like real. The fragmented horse was gorgeous. I really can’t say enough about these performances. They combined circus acts, dance routines, and puppetry. I oohed and ahhed all night. Absolutely loved it.

Another interesting note: the actor who plays the older version of the lead part actually started his career as ringmaster for Ringling Bros./B&B circus. No wonder he was so good at the part. But he was just first among many. Everybody is a star in this show.

Go see it. There’s nothing like it anywhere.

Mamma Mia at the Ahmanson

We had a glass of wine at the Music Center Plaza before going to a show last night. It was a beautiful night for it—except for the pall of smoke over the area from the Boyle Heights fire. That’s been going on for a week now. I don’t take my hike in the hills anymore because the smoke has particulants in it. Anyway, I ordered a sparkling rose because I wanted something fizzy. We found a table and planned to enjoy the people watching. It’s always good at the Music Center. Usually, there are kids jumping in and out of the fountain. Last night a crowd of Columbians had assembled to watch the soccer match being broadcast on the huge screens. They were wearing their colors. Hands were over hearts when they sang their national anthem. The game had some good moments. The goalie for the Congo was getting a workout but that was the only real action. We had to leave to go to the show so we never did find out who won.

Mamma Mia opened at the Ahmanson last night. I’d seen the show twenty years ago and didn’t particularly care for it. The cast was lackluster but the most annoying thing was the guy next to me. He sang every song—loudly and badly. Left a bad taste in my mouth so I wasn’t expecting much. Boy, was I surprised. The story is silly, of course, but the cast pulled it off. The three Dynamos, Donna’s middle-aged friends, were hysterical. The singers were all amazing and they could all ACT. I appreciated the dance routines—particularly the one that included swim flippers. And, of course, the music is catchy. By the end of the show, everybody was on their feet, dancing and singing to the encore. Good time. I haven’t laughed that hard in ages. Now I understand the appeal. Go see it. It’s a gas

Christmas 2025

Gordon: Just got the annual Happy Holidays card from my newspaper Delivery Guy, complete with self-addressed envelope to send the tip. I admire that forwardness, and we sorta have a relationship – he’s one of the few folks I see on a regular basis when I‘m doing my five AM walks. Once I even walked up to the car and he handed the papers to me directly. He probably appreciates that I still subscribe to three physical papers, so he has something to deliver, and I appreciate that he wraps the papers in plastic on wet days, so I can collect the sleeves and put them out on the trails for folks to use to pick up after their dogs.

 Since there’s no snow in Echo Park we have to adjust how we know it’s the “season” – this year the advertising for Xmas started before Halloween, so the message got a little garbled. Ironically for a South Dakota native, one indicator that I need to think about buying presents is the first major rain of the season, and the realization that I’ve got to get out the lawn mower. Christmas has become the start of the lawn mowing season, which will last until about April, at which time the lawn goes back to brown. Still trying to wrap my SoDak mind around that.

As for the year, I’m still adjusting to being retired. The year was good from that standpoint, in that I had clients call and request my services, so the months of October, November, and early December were consumed with preparing huge reports and crunching data, and getting it to clients. Barb thinks it sounds like work, but it’s more interesting than crossword puzzles. I’m still doing lots of tours for the Los Angeles Conservancy, and some occasional work for a marketing firm that specializes in senior housing – right down my alley. The great thing about all this stuff is that there aren’t set times or dates, other than delivery deadlines, so I can work at the pace I want, and only for folks I like.

I’m kind of missing the conferences and other events that got me out of the house, but am discovering ways to get out independently. I hope to be doing some solo trips in the new year, giving Barb the chance to vegetate at home while I go exploring. She likes vacations but takes them so seriously that she needs to rest up when we get home. Hopefully I can give her the rest time without the headaches of preparation.

Speaking of which, I’ll let Barb talk about the big trip this year.

Barb: There doesn’t seem to be much to write about this year. I don’t remember doing anything memorable. We’re getting older and falling apart, there’s that. We both have joints that the docs think we should replace but we’re hesitating. Some of our friends have had successful surgeries and are pleased with their new joints. Others haven’t been so lucky and now they’re stuck, in more pain than they were before. We’re putting off anything drastic until the pain is really bad. That could be a while because Gordon’s knee only acts up when he twists it and my ankle works just fine until we hit the 3-mile point in our hikes. We’ll probably re-visit the situation when we turn 80 but the docs say we’ll probably be too decrepit to survive the surgery. Well, if we’re that decrepit we probably won’t be doing much walking anyway. It’s strange living with a ‘use-by’ date on my forehead. Other new developments: Gordon’s going deaf, which I blame on his rock & roll years, and I’m going blind according to the DMV. One eye doesn’t work with the other, never has, but the bureaucrats want me to use corrective lenses. I’ve got them but I can’t drive with them on, they’re readers, but if I ever get in an accident I better have them with me. My eye doctor is baffled by this, as am I, but whattaya gonna do? It’s the bureaucracy. Fortunately, my memory is going to hell, so I’m not really bothered. God is fair.

Our big trip was a Viking cruise of the British Isles. We flew to Bergen Norway and met our cruise buddies, Billy and Dawn Williams. We like to travel with them. We’re all very independent; sometimes we take the same tours, sometimes not. We usually meet for dinner and compare adventures. Gordon and I started with an ebike tour in Bergen which was doubly adventurous because it was raining—HARD! I got soaked and annoyed by another tourist who took it upon herself to comment loudly on most of the guide’s lectures; usually making an innocuous informative comment political. The guide seemed puzzled, but I was annoyed. Why can’t we do anything without some idiot spouting politics? She was so far Left she couldn’t make a right turn. She fell over in front of Gordon and almost took him out. We managed to get ahead of her and stay there so she couldn’t foul us. I don’t remember if she even finished the tour. I was glad when we bumped over the slick cobble stones in the fish market to end the ride. My tail bone paid for those cobble stones, but the rest of the cruise was pleasant. We toured small towns in Scotland, the Giant’s Causeway in Northern Ireland, a castle in Wales, the Beatles experience in Liverpool, WWII museums in Dover, and the Tower of London before we left the ship. We stayed at the Claremont Hotel, Charring Cross, and toured Churchill’s wartime bunker housed in the treasury building. All four of us went to a West-End restaurant and ate bangers and mash before going to the Shaftesbury Theater to see Just For One Day. It got tepid reviews, but it was the only show Gordon and I hadn’t seen. It’s about the Bob Geldorf concert to feed the starving people in Ethiopia. The dancing was energetic and the music was wonderful. I loved it. Don’tknowwhythe critics didn’t like it. Maybe because they didn’t crucify Margaret Thatcher. Liberals really hate Thatcher. I think she saved Britian’s economy, but that’s me. I’m no expert in British politics. I hope the show comes to the USA. Then I can blithely say, “Oh, I already saw it at the West End in London.” What else is travel for if you can’t be an insufferable jerk? If you want to read about our adventures in depth, go to my blog: www.barbaraschnell.com. If you want to subscribe, feel free. I think it’s free.

A close up of a red and green text

AI-generated content may be incorrect.We flew home in a straight shot from Heathrow to LAX. Katy Kat seemed pleased to see us but Maggie went nuts, She came running when I called and jumped in my arms. She was so upset when we left she quit eating.  She went through two cans of cat food and a handful of treats before she relaxed. She’s stayed close since. I guess we’ve never been gone over two weeks before and she thought she’d been abandoned. Poor little princess. How do you explain to a cat that you’re coming home? She’s back to fighting weight now, thank God.

Best Wishes from the two of us for you in the coming year.

London

We had to be out of our cabin by 8 the next morning. The crew had to get things cleaned up for the next bunch of tourists. Boy, that’s a fast turn-around. We met Billy and Dawn for breakfast and took our sweet time until we were thrown out at 9:30. Our luggage was waiting for us at the pier. Someone tried to walk away with Dawn’s, but they were stopped, thank God. We packed ourselves and our luggage into an Uber and headed for London.

The drive in only took an hour but it took an additional hour to thread our way through Westminster. All the usual routes were closed, God knows why. We drove around and around Westminster. Dawn and I were getting testy when the driver finally let them off at their hotel (they were staying at a hotel about two blocks from ours). They escaped but Gordon and I were driven around for another 15 minutes. The driver couldn’t figure out where to drop us off. He was losing money because we pay Uber by the trip not the time. The driver was frustrated, and I had to PEE (I’d had a lot of coffee earlier). We finally got out of the van in front of the Claremont Charing Cross. It wasn’t even noon and we couldn’t check in until 3 but the hotel manager said they might be able to get us in early so we stored our luggage and  took off to play tourist. We wandered through St. James Park and crossed the Thames to ride the London Eye, the huge ferris wheel. There was no crowd so we bought our tickets and walked on right away. It’s a really touristy thing to do but hell, we were tourists and when in London do as the tourists do. I enjoyed sitting and the view, my feet were tired. We walked back to hotel around 2 hoping to get in a room but no such luck. So we went to the second floor of the Claremont to find a restaurants isr lunch. I’d been living on a lot of fish so I salivated at the thought of a burger. We split a salad and burger and wandered downstairs at 3. Our room still wasn’t ready. We draped ourselves over some furniture with some other tired, irritated, displaced guests. After 10 minutes the woman at the desk announced we could check in and offered to have our luggage sent to our room. I was out of patience with the Brits at this point so I said firmly, “I’d like my luggage now.” She led me to the storage area and Gordon and I grabbed our suitcases and waited for the slowest elevators in London—possibly the world. Only one was running so it was working hard. Our room was in a separate building, so we had to get off on the second floor and walk across an overpass that I called the Bridge of Sighs and take another slow elevator to the fifth floor. We ended up using the stairs a lot. I just didn’t have the patience for the picturesque ‘lifts’. We took a nap because we were meeting Billy and Dawn for dinner and the theater that night.

Billy and Dawn picked us up at the Claremont around six so we could go to dinner. I wasn’t really hungry after our late lunch but Dawn had researched local restaurants and made reservations at a place called Momma’s Mash (I think). It was a bangers mash place, so it was perfect for our London experience. Bangers are sausages and mash are mashed potatoes. I had gravy with mine. The meal good if you like that sort of thing and I enjoyed it but I don’t need to do it again. I don’t think the Brits are noted for their cuisine.

We followed Dawn to the Shaftesbury Theater. She was the only one of us who upgraded her phone service to include GPS. Thank God she thought ahead. I lost my GPS the minute we left the hotel, and I was completely lost. The theater was only a few blocks from our hotel and the restaurant, but London is an old city. Lots of nooks and crannies and alleys. If Dawn hadn’t had GPS I’d still probably be wandering around the West End—bawling. As it was, Dawn held her phone in front of her like a dowsing rod and we followed her like aging ducklings. She got dizzy staring into the phone so I propped her up so she could lead us to the Promised Theater.

We had tickets for Just For One Day. It didn’t seem to get many good reviews but it was the only thing Gordon and I hadn’t already seen. We got good seats because Gordon donated a chunk of our RMD to the Los Angeles Center Theater Group. Apparently, they have a deal with the West End theaters to make good seats available to generous donors. We got the house seats: Row E, dead center. Those are the seats that are made available to visiting dignitaries. Well, they didn’t know us. We could have been dignitaries. Anyway, I loved the show. It’s about the Feed the World concert Bob Geldorf produced in the 80s as a response to starvation in Africa. It was quite a struggle. He got Maggie Thatcher involved. The Liberals all hate Thatcher, so they made her a comic character but the actress playing her was hysterical. And I think Maggie made it possible for the planes and other infrastructure needs. The audience cheered for her at the end.

I don’t know why the reviews were so tepid. Okay, the dances were a little unsophisticated but so were the kids in the 80s. And the music was incredible. I liked all the actors. I hope it comes over here. Glad we saw it. Side note: the Shaftsbury Theater must be at least 100 years old. I got a kick out of the boxes on the side of the theater. They might have been fun, but you only really get to see one side of the stage. Our seats were better

Dawn steered us back to the Claremont and we said goodbye. They were leaving early the next day. Our goodbyes had to be cut short because a homeless guy accosted us. You can’t get away from it anywhere.

Gordon and I were on our own the next day. We walked around Trafalgar Square but chose not to go to the National Gallery. I get sick of art galleries. So we toured Churchill’s wartime bunker under the Treasury building. It was fascinating. I’m surprised the Brits survived. Talk about ‘keep calm and carry on’. I found a homburg hat in the gift shop at the end. I liked it but I commented that I looked like something out of “A Clockwork Orange.” The clerk pointed out that Halloween was coming but I avoided temptation. I didn’t know how I’d get it home in one piece.

We wandered around Piccadilly Circus and Leicester Square before sharing a small pizza back at Trafalgar Square. Then we went back to the Claremont for a nap. Gordon asked it I wanted to see another show but I declined. I’d seen them all and I was tired. We went to the bar and had a gin/tonic (compliments of the hotel) and got packed up to go home. We were leaving early the next day, and I wanted to get any early start so those blasted elevators wouldn’t hold us up.

The flight home was a straight shot and uneventful. I slept through most of it. The steward kept trying to shove food and drink on me, but I declined. I was seriously tired.

The house was in one piece when we got home. Katy Kat came running when she heard us in the house. She was in great shape but seemed glad to see us. I couldn’t find Maggie so I went to the backyard and called. She came flying across our neighbor’s yard, meowing all the way, and jumped in my arms. She weighed next to nothing. I put down some treats and she snarfed them down. So I put down a new can of food, and she ate the whole thing. And she’s been eating ever since. My theory is she thought we’d left her for good, and she went on a hunger strike. Poor thing. We’ve never left her that long before. She’s back to fighting weight now but I wish we could explain to her that we weren’t abandoning her.

It was a great trip but I’m still recovering from it. Gitting old; don’t have the strength I used to have. But we’re planning on another cruise in a couple of years. I’ll get good and rested up.

The gentleman in front of us offered to take the picture which I thought was nice. This was early so the theater was just starting to fill up. We’re all looking ridden hard and put away wet. Long trip.

I got a kick out of the boxes at the Shaftesbury Theater. It’s an old theater.

Dover, Tilbury (London)

Finally remembered something about Portsmouth. It rained cats and dogs through the bus tour, but the sun came out when we went down to the beach. We were shown the train tunnel that served as a bomb shelter during WWII. There were exhibits about the living conditions, which were awful. There was a coffin with a porthole that lifted up so you could see the face of the dead person. This was used so the bereaved relatives wouldn’t have to see how badly mangled the body was. That part of England really suffered during the war. But we saw more statues of famous people that meant something to the British but left me appreciating the artwork because I didn’t have a clue as to who these people were.

The next day we docked at Dover, and I marveled at the White Cliffs. I’ve seen pictures but the reality is much more impressive. Then Gordon and I took the Battle of Britain tour. We started out at a museum dedicated to the Hurricane and Spitfire planes. Basically, they were wooden frames with stiffened fabric (I think the guide said it was linen) stretched over. You add a machine gun and a Rolls Royce engine and that’s what the RAF flew against the Luftwaffe. They were such tiny little things. I wouldn’t have wanted to fly in one of them.

We were taken to a pub in a little town (can’t remember the name of the pub or town) and were treated to a fish & chips lunch. They were excellent. I enjoyed the pint of ale that was included but Gordon, of course, had a soda. The one item I wasn’t too impressed with was the side of mushy peas. Gordon said they reminded him of his mother’s split pea soup without the ham, but I never liked the soup either, so I was unimpressed. But I ate them. I was doing the English experience and that included apple tart with clotted cream for dessert.

That afternoon we went to a museum dedicated to the 3,000 fliers who fought the Battle of Brittain. They were all young men who went up in those cloth planes to fight the Luftwaffe. The Battle started in July 1940 and ended in September.  The kids were told to fly over dry land; they couldn’t afford to lose a plane or a pilot in the English Channel. They were badly outnumbered but they kept the Germans from securing a beach head for a land invasion. The Germans were stuck in France and England hung on until the US entered the war. Now I understand Churchill’s speech: “Never have so many owed so much to so few.” The kids held off the mighty German military machine. In cloth planes. It’s humbling to think about.

We landed at Tilbury on the north bank of the Thames the next day. We took a tour of the Tower of London. The crown jewels were on display. The guide told us that the jewels are uninsured. Their value is incalculable. Remember the crown with the ping pong ball used in the investiture of Prince Charles as the Duke of Wales? It was on display with the other crowns. Massive diamonds, fabulous emeralds, rows of rubies—and one gilded ping pong ball. I giggled when I saw it. I enjoyed the Tower. We wandered through the living quarters of past kings and listened to a Beefeater give a performance. I snickered when we went through museum of armor. They showed Henry VIII’s suits of armor from when he was twenty (very slim) to when he got fat (HUGE suit). On the latest suit of armor, a metal codpiece of large proportion was a standout. Tee hee. This must have been Henry’s version of a rock & roll musician stuffing a stock in his pants. Another woman and I had a good snort over it.

We had one last good meal with Billy and Dawn before going back to the cabin. We had to pack and have our luggage outside our room before ten that night. It was a great meal. Nice way to end a trip.

Takeaway: I enjoyed the service on the ship. The staff is outstanding. Example: When I spent time in the hot tub, usually all by myself, one of the staff would bring me a glass of champagne. I didn’t ask for it, I wasn’t charged for it, but it made me feel special. And rich. Nice feeling. There was always something to do if you chose to do it. I enjoyed BBQ night, a nice bit of Americana. We ate beef and took a line-dancing class—which was hard to do in sneakers on carpet, but I didn’t break anything. I also enjoyed most of the entertainment. Personally, I think Americans are better at it; maybe because we have more people doing it. The lectures and music were nice. I particularly enjoyed the Munch exhibit during a recital in the atrium as we waited for a table in one of the restaurants. And speaking of restaurants, I enjoyed the food. The proportions were kept small so I never had to feel like I had to overeat to clean my plate (can’t’ waste a thing!). Gordon and I played trivia, but we didn’t do very well. It was mostly stuff about Europe that neither one of us knew much about. The one trivia game we enjoyed was music trivia. The entertainment director would play a phrase of a song, and we were supposed to guess the song and the year it came out. The room was packed, but we all knew the songs and sang the whole thing after the phrase was done. The director seemed surprised as we all bellowed along. Even the young adults who accompanied their parents and grandparents on the cruise. Viking cruises tend to skew “old” so I thought the kids would be miserable. Not so. Every time I saw them, they seemed to be having a ball. They were louder than the rest of us old-timers, but I guess you have to expect that.

Anyway, I had a great time on the cruise. We’re going on another one in two years with Billy and Dawn if, as Billy puts it, we’re all still alive. We’re getting to the age where you never know.

The cruise was finished but the trip wasn’t. We still had two days in London, but I’ll talk about that later.

No pictures to add. Guess I was running out of gas.

Liverpool, Wales, Portsmouth

The ship fought its way across the Irish Sea to our next stop, Liverpool. After breakfast, Gordon and I took a stroll through the port area. Liverpool got heavily bombed during WWII so there was lots of new construction. The cathedral bell tower survived but the main part of the church had to be rebuilt. They did a good job matching the two stone types together. There was a statue of the Beatles near the pier, so we had our pictures taken with it. The main attraction of Liverpool is the Beatles. We took our official Beatles tour that afternoon. We saw the houses where “the lads” grew up. Paul was reasonably well-to-do but Ringo was low-income. Actually, the whole city suffered through the 50s. It had to be rebuilt, and jobs were scarce. Ringo spent two years in the hospital; he’d contracted TB. That’s where he learned to play the drums, so it wasn’t a waste of time. We saw a re-creation of the Cavern where they played (the Cavern is still there but it’s closed during the day). We saw Strawberry Fields, Penny Lane, and other sites mentioned in Beatles tunes. A Rolls Royce painted like the Yellow Submarine duplicated our tour for some rich folks. I got a kick out of that. We finished off at the Beatles museum which covers the history of the group. It included what happened to each member after they broke up. We got a comprehensive Beatles education which is the main thing to do in Liverpool. The city holds a special place in ‘the lads’ hearts of course. The remaining Beatles still do a lot of charitable work there. And the city looks clean and prosperous to me.

Our next stop was Holyhead, Wales. Gordon and I opted for a tour of the castle and surrounding walled town. The steps in the towers were curved, uneven, and tiny. I hung on to the handrails so I wouldn’t break an ankle. Gordon had it even worse; his feet are bigger than mine. But we managed not to hurt ourselves. I enjoyed the film of the investiture of Prince Charles as Prince of Wales. The crown they used had been taken by Edward III and Wallace Simpson. The family didn’t get it back until Wallace died, just before the ceremony. The huge orb on the top of the crown (don’t know if it was a gold blob or a jewel) was missing. And, of course, the two runaways were dead; couldn’t ask them where it was. What to do, what to do. Time was running out. So they got a ping pong ball and gilded it. It fit perfectly. And it’s still there.

Billy and Dawn took a train tour of Wales. We saw the train; it was adorable. I think Gordon was a little envious but as I said before, you can’t do everything.

We were supposed to cross the Irish Sea to anchor at Dublin, but the seas were so rough they had to scratch that tour. I wasn’t too disappointed; Gordon and I had covered Dublin pretty thoroughly a few years ago but I know Billy and Dawn were disappointed. We suggested that they take the type of driving tour we’d taken. They could cover the island better that way.

Anyway, we had a day of sailing which I appreciated. I was approaching that point in the cruise that I was referring to the tours as death marches. I took the day off to read, listen to lectures, and basically rest up.

We were taken to Portsmouth as a stand-in for Dublin. It’s a busy port and one of the naval centers but, for the life of me, all I remember were the military ships. Oh! And we saw the back of Charles Dickens’ house. The city had taken a lot of abuse during WWII but that’s basically all I remember. It’s a new, prosperous city. Good for them It was time to eat and rest up again. The food was very good, but I was so sick of big meals I just started having an oatmeal raisin cookie and milk for lunch. Kept from gaining too much weight.

Gordon standing on the ramparts of the Welsh castle built by Edward II

Gordon with the Beatles at Liverpool

Orkney Island, Ullapool, Belfast Northern Ireland

We rocked and rolled our way across the North Sea to the next stop, Kirkwall, Scotland in the Orkney Islands. Our tour took us across the landscape that looked like something out of Wuthering Heights. The guide said that about 5,000 years ago the island was covered in trees but when people came, they chopped everything down for housing and firewood. The trees never came back. Then the guide described the local sources of revenue. He was a farmer in season but he also worked on the windmill farms. The farms produced more power than the area could use so plans we being made to transport it to other areas. I don’t know how they planned to do that, but it was nice to know they had a source of income besides the tourists and subsistence farming.

What was really interesting to me were the Neolithic mounds and standing stones. They’re still excavating the mounds so they’re not as tourist friendly as the ones in Ireland but the standing stones were compelling. They’re like a small Stone Henge without the cross beams. We hurried around the circle. The weather was blustery; the rain was intermittent. Remember the scarf I bought in Edinburgh? I tossed it on as an afterthought before we set out. I thought it would keep my neck warm. Well, it did but it was so windy I had to tie it around my head to keep my cap from blowing off. I looked like a refugee. But it was a nice tour. I headed back to the hot tub to thaw my toes. I had no idea it’d be so cold. I mean, it’s fall, it’s supposed to be nippy but this was way beyond nippy. The guide said it was normal. I think he thought I was a sissy. I’ve been living in Los Angeles too long. The blood thins out.

The ship anchored at Ullapool, Scotland the next day. We had to take the tender again to get ashore. I got a kick out of it. It was more interesting than walking a gangplank. We got a tour of the town which was interesting. Our guide even sang us some songs in the local dialect. A guide following our group joked, “Oh, now my people are going to expect me to sing.” She was good. Billy and Dawn took a tour back into the highlands which sounded interesting. I wish we’d taken that tour but you can’t do everything. I did manage to buy a sweatshirt with a stylized Scottish breed of cow on the front. It’s great. I got lots of compliments again.

We had an easy channel crossing to Belfast, Ireland. We took the Giant’s Causeway tour. I’d seen so many pictures of it I was excited to see it. Billy and I both agreed that it was sort of disappointing. There was everything I’d ever seen in pictures, but it was all a lot smaller. But we had a pleasant hike down to the Causeway and got both explanations, the scientific and folkloric versions, of how it was created. Once you got used to the smaller scale of the stones you could appreciate the unusual landscape. We had to drive an hour each way to get to it but that was interesting too. I expected to see Belfast as a blasted shell of a city from what I remember of the Troubles on the news. Everything is rebuilt and clean. The countryside is lovely with tidy farms and villages. It was a lovely drive and tour. And I didn’t even need to retire to the hot tub to recover. I was adjusting. Or it was getting warmer. Probably a combination of both.

Gordon at the Giant’s Causeway in North Ireland.

This is an old castle on the way to the Giant’s Causeway. It was a beautiful day. Thank God.

Scotland

Our next stop was Lerwick, Scotland in the Shetland Islands. The ship anchored instead of docking so we had to take a tender (covered lifeboat) to the town. They put us on a bus and drove us around the island. The guide explained that she moved to Lerwick from a major city for the peace and quiet—and safety. She said her 11-yr-old daughter had to walk three miles to her home after school and the woman received a phone call from someone every mile telling her that the kid was safe and on her way. And they’re so out of the way they don’t have immigrants washing up on their shores so they don’t have a crime problem. I was surprised she made the comment. Most people stay far away from the subject but she was definite in her opinion. She loved small-town life. The island seemed to have everything they needed to survive. Maybe they didn’t have a lot of choice but that was okay. We stopped at a Shetland pony farm—ranch?—and were lectured by the owner on the care, feeding, and backgrounds of her ponies. They were little, sway-backed, pudgy things. I’ve never been a fan of Shetland ponies. I’ve always found them to be nasty little critters. One of the idiot tourists went bananas and started nuzzling one of the ponies, exclaiming in baby talk, “Oh, you’re so sweet. I love you so much!” I waited for the pony to bite her face off. But the pony had better manners. It just walked away. I think tourists must add needed revenue for the pony owner. She gave a great talk. I enjoyed it but I steered clear of the ponies.

We were let loose on the 400-yr-old town for free time. I loved the stone buildings and little shops; very picturesque. I found a capelet in a clothing shop that I drooled over but I’d left my credit card in the safe on the ship. I briefly thought of catching the tender to get it but that seemed like too much trouble. I can’t remember what Gordon did but I spent time in the hot tub that afternoon. I needed to soak out some kinks. We met Billy and Dawn for dinner and compared notes. Then the ship set sail on the North Sea again and we rolled around some more. My stomach had gotten used to it so I didn’t get sick. But I still snickered at the discrete barf bags tucked in strategic areas.

We docked in Aberdeen the next day. We saw the exteriors of the college of St. Elphinstone (I think that’s the right name) and other historic buildings. It was a gray day, the buildings were all gray, and we didn’t get to go inside anything. The lectures were great but Aberdeen was a dud for me. The best part was the former fishing village of Footdee. Loved the cottages and lanes that led to the beach. Quaint. The guide said that this beach was a surfing mecca. Must have had to wear wet suits. I was cold all the time. I spent more time in the hot tub to thaw myself before dinner and entertainment. Then back on the North Sea we went for our evening’tumble.

The ship anchored at Edinburgh the next day. Billy and Dawn were on our tour and, as usual, Dawn made some new friends who turned out to be from Sioux Falls, SoDak. We compared our Black Hills gold wedding bands. I loved Edinburgh. I wished we could have to spent the day we wasted in Aberdeen in Edinburgh. I would have gotten tickets to the castle tour if there’d been time. We were shown all the prime spots and got our lecture before being turned loose on the Royal Mile. There was a marathon starting so it was kind of a mess but there was lots of excitement. I got a kick out of all the discarded clothes. It was cool so the runners started out with sweatshirts and pants. As it got warmer and deeper into the race the runners shed their outer layers which were picked up to be laundered and delivered to the poor. Good deal all around. Those Scots don’t waste a thing. We toured the John Knox house then God showed me why I left my credit card in the safe previously. I found a cashmere ruana in a Scotch plaid that was stunning. I love it. I also got a wool scarf that was on sale. I had no idea how smart that purchase was. I’d find out. Anyway, I wore my ruana at dinner that night and inspired envy in all and sundry. Got lots of compliments.

Enjoyed dinner and kept it down when we set sail on the North Sea.

And so to bed. (Trying to be literary).

They think St. Elphinstone is buried in the tomb but they’re not sure. The church looked lovely but it was closed.

Can’t remember who this is a statue of in downtown Aberdeen but Gordon’s in the pic so what the hell.

Our Viking Cruise

About three weeks ago Gordon and I flew out on FinnAir on our way to Bergen, Norway to catch our Viking cruise ship. The flight was uneventful. The plane was new so it was nice, and I dozed most of the way—there’re a lot of bad movies out, btw. We had an hour layover in Helsinki before catching the final plane to Bergen. I thought it would only be about an hour in the air but we flew on a turbo prop plane so the flight took about 2 ½ hours. I felt like I was in a WWII movie. But we were seated two across so the only person invading my space was Gordon and that’s fine with me. As a matter of fact, I invaded his space but he didn’t seem to mind. Our driver was waiting for us at Bergen, and our luggage came through without problem. We had a pleasant drive to our hotel in downtown Bergen where we met Billy and Dawn Williams who were on the same cruise. Billy and Gordon were in high school together. More importantly, they were bandmates in The Ride so they have a long history. Dawn and I got acquainted at one of the Ride reunions and she’s a hoot to travel with. We checked in and had a bowl of soup and a sandwich with them at the hotel before going to bed.

The room was serviceable but I loved the duvet on the bed. They were half-sized so we each had our own personal quilt. No fighting over the covers! And they were warm. Leave it to the Norwegians to invent comfortable bed covers. The bathroom had European fixtures, but I figured them out. I slept well.

After breakfast at the hotel (our driver claimed that the hotel was famous for its breakfasts; it was good) we went shopping. Gordon had forgotten to pack a jacket and it’s COLD even in fall. Fortunately, he found something suitable at one of the shops. He’d have frozen to death otherwise. Then we packed up and humped our luggage five blocks down to the pier to board the Viking Vela. We checked in and joined Billy and Dawn to take the funicular to the top of the hill for the view. We were told that Bergen only gets 100 clear days a year and this was one of them. It was a spectacular sea view.  It reminded me of the view from the Livermore Museum overlooking Berkeley. One thing they had that Berkeley doesn’t is goats wandering around to delight the tourists. Which they did. Except they wouldn’t stand still to let me take a picture with them. I tried to get gruff with my three Billy goats, but they weren’t buying it. We went back to the ship for dinner and a welcome aboard show. Long but pleasant day.

We had one official Viking day in Bergen, so we spent it on an e-bike tour of the city. It was cold and raining heavily. I was glad we had the clear day before although given a choice I would have rather had the sun for the bike ride. I’d never been on an e-bike but it wasn’t all that tough. As a matter of fact, it made the hills positively effortless which was good. When I saw the switchback route up the mountain I almost despaired. But all I had to do was turn on the turbo and I sailed right up. What was tough was navigating the puddles and slippery cobblestones. I wore my Irish fishermen’s cap and a waterproof jacket so my top half stayed more or less warm, but my jeans got soaked. I didn’t worry about splashing in puddles after a while; I couldn’t get any wetter. What I worried about was the crazy Lefty woman in front of me. At every stop when the guide would explain something to us she’d chime in with a “Well, we on the Left agree with you.” The guide looked a little puzzled because he hadn’t said anything political, but Lefty chose to take everything that way. And she got even more vocal about her politics. I think she even annoyed the people who agreed with her. (Can’t we do anything without a nasty comment or a lecture? Apparently not.) She was so far Left she couldn’t even make a right turn. After she keeled over in front of me on a right turn I made a point of staying ahead of her. I think she did an anti-right flop in front of Gordon and almost took him down. So we skirted her not only to avoid her political commentary but for our own safety. I don’t remember if she even finished with us. But once we got away from her the ride was as pleasant as it could be in a deluge. I think Gordon was glad he’d bought the jacket when he had the chance. It was perfect for the situation. Anyway, we saw where Grieg went to school. We saw the house of Dr. Hanson who discovered the cause of leprosy and devised a cure. We bounced through the fish market and turned our bikes in. We sloshed through the puddles on our way back to the Vela. It felt good to take a warm shower and put on dry clothes. Bergen is a lovely town although bouncing over the cobblestones was hard on my tailbone. I’m still recovering from that.

We enjoyed dinner and the show was more entertaining than I expected—partially because the ship had set sail on the North Sea and it was rough. The singers and dancers slid and stumbled over the stage, Then we all looked drunk as we staggered back to our rooms after the show. I noticed little satchels of barf bags in strategic places around the elevators and other public areas. We had to cling to the handrails to stay upright as we stumbled down the halls. I always thought they were just decorative, but we really needed them to maneuver. We took Dramamine so we didn’t get seasick, but I had a few urpy moments as I rolled around on the bed. I was glad I didn’t end up on the floor. The North Sea is really rough! But we’d had a long day so I fell asleep quickly.

View from the funicular on the way to the top of the hill

We made it to the top!

& Juliet and Shucks

Gordon and I spent the last two nights being entertained. Tuesday, we went to the Ahmanson Theater to see & Juliet. We knew it was a juke box musical because a large juke box sat in the center of the stage. I appreciated the humor. The play is told from the viewpoint of Shakespeare’s wife, Anne Hathaway, who thinks Romeo and Juliet is a downer. She decides that, as his wife and partner, she will write what really happened. And in her play Juliet doesn’t die. She refuses to stab herself to death or marry anybody else. She’s only 13 years old, for God’s sake. Anne writes that Juliet and her nurse run away to Paris to have fun. And Will argues about the plot. The songs are all pop hits like “Oops I did it again”, “I kissed a Girl”, and “Roar”. It’s silly and irreverent and lots of fun. Rachael Webb plays Juliet and she’s terrific. Her production numbers are staged like the pop performances they are. But my favorite was Shelby Griswold playing Anne. At least I think that’s who played Anne. Teal Wicks was listed in the program but the picture looked more like Shelby. It’s nice when an understudy does such a good job. She’s a terrific comedic actress with a belter voice. But I can’t leave the men out. Corey Mach was a gas as Will. I think we got another understudy playing Romeo, Christopher Robert Hanford. Anyway, that’s what I’m guessing. His picture matches. There’s a note inside the program stating that understudies will always be announced but it didn’t happen this time. But I enjoyed the songs, the staging, the performances…it was fun. The audience went wild.

Last night we drove over to Hollywood to see Shucks at the Pantages. It’s placed in a small town that lives on growing corn. And, of course, a city slicker tries to take advantage of the locals. He’s outsmarted, everybody gets married, and the corn is saved. I didn’t know what to expect from the show. Basically, it was Hee Haw; one-liners with great music. I laughed out loud at the silliness and appreciated the singers. For a good time, go see it. Huh, my blog has become a bathroom wall.