Day 38: The penultimate post: home again

After waaay too much time - the “arrival” posting.
We actually did manage to get up at 4.30am, and were on deck about 15 minutes later. The sky was overcast so no post-card sail-in this time. Even so Sydney Harbour is worth a look even when it’s grey.

The pilot boarded about 5am, and we had about an hour before we actually sailed through the Heads. It was freezing on deck, so I went below to get my jacket for Emma to wear.
This, of course, was when the dolphins swam past the bow of the ship. Apparently they put on quite a show and, once again, I MISSED IT.
Everytime I leave Emma something cool happens - the bear in Juneau, the somersaulting seal on the way to San Francisco, and then the dolphins sailing into Sydney. On our next trip I’m handcuffing us together.
At least I saw the whales leaving the Harbour. It must have been a big night on the town because they weren’t anywhere near as perky as the dolphins.
The Sun Princess was the largest ship to ever sail under the Sydney Harbour Bridge, with a two and a half metre clearance. It looked a bit tighter than that to me - in any case it was a cause for applause when we didn’t smack into the underside of the bridge. Part of me thought it would be cool if someone had made an error in calculation…

Once docked in Darling Harbour we had an hour or so to say out final goodbyes to favoured staff and new friends, and the disembarkation went without a hitch.
After that was a 15 minute cab ride home, shower, and then back to work, a mere 10 minute walk from where we docked. For the most part it was great (if slightly surreal) to be back, but a small part of me thought climbing back on board and stowing away had a certain appeal as well.
On balance the “at home or on holiday” equation is firmly towards the “home” end of the scale, We’re not ready for permanent retirement yet, and we need to start saving up for the next one (probably the Baltic plus a week in Poland in ‘09, still TBC).
So it ends.
Overall, despite niggling annoyances and stuff-ups (what holiday doesn’t have its share of these?), it was an amazing experience. While we don’t know if we’ll ever do such a long cruise again, we’re not sorry we did this one.
I’ll probably be making a final post reflecting on the experience, but for now it’s good to be home.

Days 35-37: Sea days: homeward bound

Day 35:
The morning began with the Final of the Rugby World Cup being broadcast in the Princess Theatre. The ship put on coffee and pastries, so I was up and seated by 8.00am while Emma dozed.
Me up, Emma sleeping. This reversal of roles continues to astonish us both.
South Africa defeated England, which pleased me as I figured the Brits on-board would have been insufferable if they’d won. Of course if the Aussies had made it through we would have been even more obnoxious, so I shouldn’t make too big a deal out of that. Most amazing was the grace and total lack of obnoxiousness shown by the South Africans on board. I didn’t think that was possible.
More importantly I returned to winning form with my chess game again. I’m now 4-1.
As noted in yesterday’s entry, we were meant to be on the way to Milford Sound, but instead sailed up the east coast of the south island and through the Cook Strait. This made for a pleasant day’s sailing as it turned out, if a bit on the windy side.
That night we caught a show with a performer named Dave Stephens, an Australian Lebanese-Irishman who doesn’t have the best voice in the world, but largely compensates with truly manic energy.
Day 36:
Cruise ships suffer from a strange time dilation effect. Everything takes about an hour. If you go to play chess it takes about an hour. Lunch takes about an hour. Shopping takes about an hour.
Next thing you know it’s 11pm and you’ve only done three things all day. Very odd.
I had another chess game, this time a draw, largely through a technicality. I’m too damn proud to admit my opponent could claim I win, so I’ll put myself on four wins, one loss, one draw and call it quits.
On the level 12 they had the Scrapheap Regatta, where six teams had to build ships out of junk found on ship, load them up with two dozen cans of beer, and navigate the pool. Amazingly none of them sunk, so they managed to get the Assistant Cruise Director into one of them to see how it would hold up under her weight.
Answer: badly.
(pix to follow)
We also found a lovely little wind-break on the back deck (it’s only taken five weeks). While we were there two partially-sighted women showed up with their seeing eye dogs, who were allowed off their leads and allowed to play. As you’d guess, Emma and the dogs became instant friends.
That woman’s an animal-magnet. I’m surprised we don’t have dolphins sticking to the hull of the ship.
And then there was the food. Always food. Too much and too often.
Still, it gives us a chance to chat.
We managed dinner with two Canadian couples we’ve become friends with, who will be joining us for a BBQ at our place on Saturday (note to Simon: the place better not need much cleaning…)
Then we caught the comedian Marty Brill again, who put on a fabulous show. Immediately after that we came back to the Atrium for the Champagne Waterfall organized by Rui, the maitre’d, drinks, and dancing.
(still more pix to come - exciting, huh?)
Day 37:
And so the trip draws to a close.
Apart from a couple of lectures it was mainly socialising and it was time to pack (my role being thrown out of the room so I wouldn’t get in Emma’s way) and start saying goodbyes.
I managed to attend two more lectures , we spent the obligatory (if all too short) time on Deck 7, caught the final production show “Save the Last Dance”, checked our bill (thank god we don’t need to leave an inheritance to our children).
We’ve done as many good-byes as we can (you meet a lot of people over five weeks), and are now about to call it a night at 10am Sydney time so we can get up at 4.30am tomorrow to catch the sail-in to Sydney Harbour.

Day 34: Dunedin

I figure if Sydney trains offered champagne breakfasts commuting by rail would be a much more appealing prospect.

We took the Taieri Gorge Railway from the docks through Dunedin (pop. 120,000; founded by Scots, it was originally planned to be called “New Edinburgh”, but they decided there were enough “New Whatevers” in the world and went for Dunedin instead - but I digress) and then northwest up to Pukerangi (pop. pretty much nothing).
The best part was the bit in the middle.
Most of the trip was a leisurely 15-25 kph, which allowed plenty of time to take in the views. Most of the rock in the area is schist rock, which is a metamorphic rock made up of minerals like mica and quartz. While this probably sounds rather dull, the effect on the scenery is remarkable, as the river cuts through the schist to reveal a ruggedly beautiful landscape.

It was just… gorge-us.
(Sorry - couldn’t resist.)
The actual train service was a delight as well. The train is staffed entirely by volunteers, presumably local train buffs, and it provides a wonderfully traditional post-colonial experience.

We noted the ship’s captain was on the tour as well. Emma figured this was further insurance that the ship wouldn’t leave without us. Conversely I figured this was probably the best time to date for the crew to stage a mutiny and sail off to parts unknown.
After the train trip we made another trip to Larnach Castle, a rather grand home built by one of New Zealand’s leading families of the 19th century. The house was OK, but more interesting were the gardens, which have been revamped over the last few decades, and the phenomenal views.

The cafe also had great espresso.
Back at port we were told that due to bad weather the captain had decided to cancel the following days cruise to Milford Sound and Fjordland. This led to enormous amounts of bitching and griping from some passengers, although given the forecast was for 10 metre swells Emma and I figured it was a good call. We tend to think not sinking was a reasonable alternative.
Besides, we had had nice coffee at Larnach Castle, so we’d agree to almost anything at that point.

Day 33: Christchurch

Another day on the “brilliant” end of the scale.
We sailed into Lyttleton, which is just the other side of a mountain ridge from Christchurch proper. The landscape was unseasonally green due to recent rains, and indeed snow the day before we arrived.
We piled onto our bus and travelled to the base of the mountains on the other side of Christchurch. Simply stunning countryside; between the views and the jet boating I took something like 150 photos. Loved it.

The jetboating place also had a few sheep and alpacas which were used for tourist shows. Being tourist sheep and alpacas they were particularly friendly to visitors.


Emma making friends with animals. Quelle surprise.
Of course no self-respecting New Zealand sheep station, even a bite-size one like this, would be complete without a Border Collie sheepdog. This one was named Jess, and an absolutely gorgeous dog, and needless to say Emma became best buddies with it.

Then there was the jetboat excursion proper. What a rush.
This a 40 minute roundtrip excursion, but it felt like half that. Screaming up the river at 1,000 OPH (Omigods Per Hour), in water that was as little as four inches deep (the boat travels so fast it planes across the surface of the water. They told us if we actually stopped in any of the four inch deep parts we wouldn’t be going anywhere soon), up a beautiful canyon, and probably terrifying the local fish (although the birds were remarkably blase about the whole thing).



Just wonderful stuff. Five stars.

We drove back through Christchurch, a pretty little town of about 300,000 people. We were too tired to get off and wander, although we spoke to a few people who did who said it was just beautiful.
I popped up to catch a few sunset piccies, and went to dinner with two friends from Coffs Harbour, Fred & Suze. By the end of the meal we had a competition to see who could fall asleep at the table first, Fred or Emma. Fred won, but not by much, so we went to our room, collapsed and -
*Snore*

Day 32: Sea-faring to the south island

“I wonder if we’ll see any dolphins,” Emma said.
Not five seconds later some guy calls out “dolphins!”
Sure enough, right off the starboard bow is a pod of dolphins swimming by. Fortunately she ignored me when I told her we wouldn’t need the binoculars. We had a good thirty seconds or more, and even managed a few photos, although the lens on my camera didn’t capture them very well. Squint very hard, and use your imagination, and you might just make them out:

Later that morning Emma went to the Passenger Cooking Show where the short-listed passengers from the on-board recipe competition were to prepare their meals.

I went up to see if Emma was selected, but she hadn’t been, so I left. A minute later Dan, the entertainment director announced that the judges loved the recipe Emma had submitted, but it wasn’t shortlisted because it would take too long to prepare as it needed 2hrs to set.
(Thanks again to Ali for the Divine Lemon Pots recipe!)
So she was given an Honourable Mention and selected to be a judge. The winning recipe was a mandarin and almond salad, which Emma loved and will prepare after we get home. Like we need more food.
That afternoon I attended a lecture on Chinese face-reading and “picking the perfect partner”. Now the fact is I put as much faith in this kind of thing as I do in astrology, tarot cards and reading the entrails of newly sacrificed sheep, but apparently Emma and I are a perfect match: she’s “water” and I’m “wood”. Now you know.
I still bought the author/presenter’s book “Your Face Tells All” (50% off, what could I do?), and had a nice chat with authors, Erik & Ilona Kanto, who autographed my copy.

Day 31: Auckland

Emma’s nephew Simon is looking after our house while we’re away. His responsibilities have been to keep the house from burning down, and to ensure Emma’s beloved Lily-cat is alive and well on our return.


So what does this have to do with Auckland?
Simon’s former girlfriend Gina is a Kiwi who returned to Auckland last year, and her parents live south of Auckland. We thought we’d skip the tours and see if we could catch up withthem on this leg. As it turns out Gina’s mother Margaret was free for the day, and drove up from Whangamatta (pronounced “fong-a-mah-tah” apparently) to take us around Auckland. She was under strict instructions not to make a special trip just for us, but she cheerfully ignored us and drove the 2 hours north to meet us.

Margaret met us as we were walking off the ship and took us on a brief walk through Auckland (highlight: the best cappuccino since Juneau at a fabulous little coffee kiosk called Mecca. Praise Allah!) and then took us on a driving tour through the city and outskirts such as One Tree Hill, where we discovered Auckland can get windy.



Gina has just started working for Oxfam, which she loves. We met her at work and hit a nearby cafe for lunch, where Emma was delighted to find Real Bacon, not the shriveled deep-fried pig-fat strips we’ve had on ship.

And Emma and Margaret got some shopping in. How out of character.
After we said good-bye to Margaret (thanks again - you’re the perfect host) we had one last decent coffee before hitting the ship.

Days 29-30: Slacking off at sea

Day 29:
The gym was too hard to find, although I found the comfy chairs on Deck 5 and in the library just fine. Books, games and my computer. Bliss.

I played another game of chess, and my winning strike came to an end. I was up against a Russian-born Canadian named Sam, who beat me like an ugly step-child. Such is life.
Emma finished book number four, I finished a piece of sound-editing, did a few Sudoku, and read a bit. Tiring stuff; how could I be expected to find time for the gym?
In other news the coffee has regressed to the primordial sludge it was before. I suspect they found the skilled coffee maker and threw him overboard so the others wouldn’t look so bad. It didn’t work - their coffee still sucks.
We went to the casino in the early evening. The pokies sucked US$14 out of Emma, while I finally joined the table playing Limit Hold ‘Em Poker.
This was my first time at a casino table, and I was a bit nervous. As it turns out there wasn’t much to be nervous about as most of the players were pretty weak and would play any two cards. I never got a decent set of cards and still ended up $5.
We attended our usual 10pm late show which featured Gary Stirling, an entertainer in the Sammy Davis Jr song-and-dance tradition (originally from Georgia, now based in Sydney), and a classically-trained singer named Davidia who mainly did various musical from shows like Phantom of the Opera and Sound of Music (who is either from New Zealand or Australia, I think the former, Emma the latter).
Day 30:
Much busier, although the gym still manages to elude me.

The highlight of this day was the Sun Princess Cup horse race.
This was a a highly sophisticated horse racing system. Six wooden horses and two dice: someone rolls the dice, and the red dice indicates which horse moves, and the white one tells how many spaces.
There was a horse auction a few weeks ago, with horses going for about $US300. Most people bought them as part of a syndicate, although there were a few sole owners. The winner won the pool of whatever had been bid.
Once in possession of a horse the owners had to decorate the horses. Some people went to extraordinary lengths, and wrote up long histories to boot.
One couple from Maroochydore, Qld bought a horse, which they dubbed “Guinness” and decked out in all things Irish. They needed a “jockey” for their horse, the jockey’s role being to move the horse as the dice rolls were called out and, in their case, to wear a rather stupid looking Irish hat and look like a complete idiot.
So they thought of me.

Well, I lost, so my career as jockey is over. Two crushing defeats in two days. Such is life.
That night was the staff talent show. Many were still in uniform having come directly from work. It seems there isn’t a Filipino on this ship who can’t sing, including Emma from the waiting staff who has a stunning voice, and a chap from the galley who played guitar and sang a song in Tagalog.
The finale was the cruise director’s department who did a song/sketch about what they’d be doing if they weren’t at sea. Extremely silly and hysterically funny.
Tomorrow is Auckland and hopefully a good cup of coffee.

Day 28: Suva, Fiji

Suva was closed, being a Sunday. Not that Princess Lines seems to worry about things like that.
Having a boatload of cashed-up tourists land on a day the shops are closed can’t be good for the local economy. Not that Princess Lines seems to worry about things like that either.
Emma & I have come up with a concept: the local government should charge ten times as much for berthing on a Sunday as they do on a Monday - but come in on a Sunday and stay for the Sunday and the first day is free.
Fortunately we were booked on tour, a walk through the Colo-i-Suva rainforest. Guess why they call it a rainforest…
When we started the guides told us we were lucky, as the day before the rain absolutely bucketed down. The weather was perfect for the first part of the trek.

The path was in much better condition than I expected. The descent was reasonably steep, but virtually the entire path had been terraced, and with ample handrails installed.
A few of our fellow walkers were struggling a bit, including one man who had had a cataract operation two years ago and who had no depth perception. He had real problems in those sections where there weren’t any handrails.
On the one hand I felt a bit sorry for him and some of the others as the information for the tour was rather scanty. On the other hand the description of the walk did have the symbol the indicates “for the adventurous, these are our most active shore excursions”, and I wonder what he was expecting - a monorail ride down with a foot massage at the bottom?

As we got closer to the bottom it began to drizzle. Our guide pointed out that rain was not uncommon in a rainforest, as the name might indicate to the more alert. Nonetheless some of the people began to complain, as tourists often do.

Then the skies really opened up.
Fortunately we had the good sense to remember our portable raincoats. Unfortunately we didn’t actually get around to packing them in our day pack.
Just as we were coming into the lower pools, where we had planned to swim, the rain came down in sheets. Now the intelligent traveller isn’t surprised that you might experience this in a tropical rainforest. However the people who were complaining at the drizzle went into 100% bitching mode at the torrential rain.

Emma and I thought it was brilliant.
However even we weren’t quite as keen as some of our fellows who decided to go for a swim anyhow. Especially the Canadians, but I guess a Canadian who doesn’t like rain is like a Bedouin who can’t stand sand.
Back at the ship we sat on our beloved Deck 7 and waited to sail out. Now the docks in Suva are just near the bus depot, which apparently carries an enormous amount of traffic each day. Being a Sunday a local religious congregation put on a show for the people waiting for a bus: a bit of singing, a bit of dancing, then the local preacher steps up with a bit of Jesus. Then back to the music, the songs, and another round of preaching. Entertainment for us, and they didn’t even hit us with the collection plate.
The rest of the day was unremarkable, although we found out later that the recent political unrest in Fiji things led to some scary moments a few weeks ago. One cruise ship had to send their security people to round up the passengers when Fijians started shooting on the streets of Suva.
So we had docked in a port that had people shooting at each other just a few weeks ago. Not that Princess Lines seems to worry about things like that.

Day 27: Sea day: Captain Nick & the photo op

We woke up the crack of 10am (next time we definitely get a cabin with a window).
The day was unremarkable (although it never ceases to fascinate me how we seem to do nothing, and yet we run out of time to do all the things we intended to do), but that night was a the Captain’s Cocktail Party. Oh-err.
So we glammed up and showed up with our invitation to meet Captain Nick and 200 of his closest friends:

It the end it turned out to be one part cocktail party and two parts sales pitch. We had a spiel from the Future Cruise Consultant (amazing savings if we book onboard, blah-blah-blah), then Capt Nick did a few gags and tried to put a positive spin on the fact we’ll be berthing at Darling Harbour instead of Circular Quay (we’ll be the largest ship ever to sail under the Sydney Harbour Bridge. Oh-err.)
Still, we got three free drinks out of them, so not a complete waste. Oh, we also got our photo taken with Cap'n Nick himself. Feel free to swoon with envy.
Afterwards we joined some of our shipboard friends to attend our first production show, “Piano Man”, a series of numbers based on the work of various piano entertainers: Billy Joel, Liberace, Neil Sedaka, Elton John and Barry Manilow. It was actually quite a fun little show, although I only survived the Barry Manilow segment by jamming a pen into my leg to take my mind off the songs.

Day 26: Pago Pago, American Samoa

When it rains in the tropics it does so with gusto.
While we were waiting for our tour bus the skies did the tropical deluge thing on us. So it goes.

American Samoa exceeded my expectations, although based on memories of my first visit there 30 years ago my expectations were low. American Samoa seems to be trying to create a tourist industry more-or-less from scratch. It’s the usual catch-22: nobody comes because there’s nothing to do, and there’s nothing to do because nobody comes. So the tourist infrastructure is close to non-existent, but to the credit of the local tourist industry they are working hard to make the most of what they do have.
The guides for this tour were all recent high school graduates. Our guide, who had a name that was about 12 feet long, was an 18 year old with a tremendous amount of energy and a great sense of humour.

The tour bus took us around to a few places of note in Samoan legends, including Flowerpot Island (where there are two islands which, according to legend, where originally two young lovers fleeing Western Samoa for American Samoa) and the place of the Turtle and the Shark (where a mother and daughter fleeing Western Samoa were turned into a turtle and shark by the local medicine man, who I guess was fed up with Western Samoan refugees. Things must have really sucked in Western Samoa given the number of people who seemed to flee from there).
We had refreshments at the home of the local head of the tourist bureau, which we assume is probably because there simply isn’t anything better available for visitors. I admire her commitment, being willing to host five or more busloads of foreign visitors on her back lawn.
Having said that: what a lawn. The house is built right on the seashore, and the actual building is quite grand. Here’s a view from the porch, and another one nearer the shoreline:


Back in town we did a bit of exploring, and found a small cafe that has the best iced coffee I’ve ever had. I don’t generally like iced coffee, but this was superb. We also found two cats, which gave Emma a chance to satisfy her cat-petting craving.
It’s certainly a place with its problems. The litter is horrendous, we heard there was significant governmental corruption, and unemployment is running around 50%. On the plus side, they people were very friendly. Even the crims at the local prison waved at us - seriously. You can just see one to the left of the leaf in the photo below:

If you don’t have much you may as well try to be happy with what you’ve got.

Day 25: Not much of anything, really

I attended a lecture session on “Children of Fiji”. The guest speaker was a Finnish chap, and the “lecture” mainly consisted of him showing an excruciatingly feeble documentary he had produced and directed in 1996.
It was so bad it was embarrassing. This was episode one of an eleven episode series. Apparently it was originally intended as a twenty-two episode series, but I can only guess that whoever was funding it finally got around to watching an episode before deciding to pull the plug.
Apart from Emma finishing another book and me winning my third chess game (once again I managed a win due to my opponent making an error, but I’ll take any win I can get). We also managed to make it to the gym again, allowing us the illusion of virtue. However most of our social life revolved around meals, as is the custom on a cruise ship.
We had lunch with a couple who are primary school relief teachers in Western Australia. In case you’re marveling at how well paid relief teachers are, they can afford to cruise due to some nicely performing investment properties.
In the evening we had dinner with a retired couple from Washington (the state, not DC); he had worked in advertising and marketing for a number of US retail chains such as Sears, so we talked a bit of shop, wisely stopping before everybody else’s eyes totally glazed over.
There were also two women from Chicago, a real estate manager in her 40s who was traveling with her mother. The mother had had a severe car accident not too long ago, and it reminded the daughter of how fragile life can be, so she moved back to Chicago from Denver.
The late show was an Irish comedian named Mike Harris. His delivery was good, but I’d heard most other gags before. I guess this boat is doing its best to recycle at sea. Still he did have two jokes I particularly liked that I hadn’t heard before, one about a guy crying over a grave, and one about a guy knocking on the door at midnight asking for a push. Punchlines available upon request.

Day 24: Does Rarotonga need a bookkeeper and TV research guy?

We have a new favourite place.
Getting ashore was a minor drama due to the heavy(ish) swells, which meant we could only run tenders from the port side of the ship. It took a couple of hours before we made it to shore, and we were on tender #12 out of 30 or so.
While not as visually striking as Bora Bora, Rarotonga is much cleaner than Bora Bora or Tahiti, the people seemed friendlier, and even the dogs look healthier and happier. Sure, they all sound like New Zealanders when they talk, but nothing in life is perfect.
We wandered through the main town before catching our tour and looked inside a few shops, which were clean and affordable (eg nothing like French Polynesia), then headed back for our tour
Our tour was a glass bottom boat on Muri Lagoon. We had a highly entertaining guide, Barrone, who joked and played the ukulele when he wasn’t doing the tour guide thing or swimming under the boat.


The lagoon is so shallow you could walk across most of it, which made navigation tricky. Once out on the reef they moored the boats and let the snorkelers swim for half an hour or so while us aqua-phobic types watched the action through the glass bottom.

Afterwards we went to one of the islands for lunch, where the boys cooked up swordfish, bananas sprinkled with fresh coconut, potato salad, papaya, and limes. It was simple, but tasted fantastic.

The limes led to a minor tragedy. The local limes are green on the outside as you’d expect, but orange on the inside. Emma saw one poor woman bite into one thinking it was an orange.
Apparently her face looked like - well, it’s hard to describe, but you can probably guess.
Emma had the sense to ask before biting into one. Smart girl.
They also showed how to crack open a coconut, and demonstrated six of the 375 (!) different ways of tying a sarong. As the pics below demonstrate, this is a man who likes his work:


Emma’s comment was “I feel like I’ve been picked up and placed into a postcard”.
Interestingly every Aussie couple we’ve spoken to, four of them, say they intend to come back.
We’re couple number five.

Day 23: Miracle at Sea

Today something happened on board the Sun Princess I never expected to experience:
The coffee was good.

For most of the voyage the coffee has been execrable, and that was on the better days. For some reason the staff don’t have the vaguest idea how to make a decent cup of coffee. Being an American ship I expected horrible things from the black boiled sludge that passes for coffee in your standard American diner. What I didn’t expect was that the expresso coffees would be just as vile, but with frothy milk and a chocolate heart on top.
Today they surprised us with not one, but two decent cappuccinos. Bliss.
Otherwise a fairly quiet day. We didn’t do much other than my attending a couple of lectures, Emma finishing a book, a visit to the gym, and other typical cruise ship stuff.
I am still fascinated by Emma’s non-existent sense of direction. After three weeks she still can’t remember which way to turn to get to our cabin, or to return to the correct side of the deck we were just on, or to correctly identify which deck the buffet is on. It’s remarkable.
We were having lunch and she said working out which side of the ship she wanted was still confusing, and that she needed to remember which direction the ship is sailing. I commented this was unnecessary, and advised all she needed to do was look to see which direction the water seemed to be going: the ship would be heading in the direction the water isn’t. A then pointed outside the window to illustrate my point.
Emma thinks I’m a smartarse. She’s right, of course, but she still loves me.
The evening show was a guy called Ric Steele. Basically just a cabaret singer, not much more than you’d expect from an RSL club. It was OK, but only OK. A few of the passengers have noted the production shows have vanished, and now we’re just getting solo performers.
The most popular theory is that as this is a relocation cruise for the Sun Princess, which will be operating out of Australia for the next year or two, they’ve downgraded a number of aspects of the cruise. We met a couple who have sailed with Princess twice before, and the said that this cruise wasn’t up to the standards of their previous trips.
While most of the crew are fabulous, Princess Lines’ service standards do seem to be slipping, not least in the tour office, and their never-ending attempts to extract every last dollar out of passengers does get wearisome. Overall the cruise is great, and we’re already planning our next one - but not necessarily with Princess Lines.
However the fact they finally learned to make a decent cuppa provides hope for them.

Day 22: Papeete, Tahiti

Tip for tourists: don’t go to Tahiti on a Sunday. Everything is closed.
Not quite everything. After wandering the streets of Papeete for an hour and a half we did find one lone outpost of that great bastion of culinary delights: McDonalds. While we had no intention of eating one of their burgers - especially at $US15 for a Big Mac (I’m not joking) - it was good enough for a Sprite.

Even more horrifying than a $15 Big Mac was the Mac version of a croque monsieur, which looks like thinly-sliced goat intestines served between two slices of deep-fried hocky puck.

Papeete looks like it’s seen better days. While Tahiti is pretty, the city is tired looking. Fortunately our tour took us out of Papeete. Well out, as we boarded into the back of a 4WD drive truck and joined a convoy heading up Tahiti’s largest valley.
This was much better. As in “stunningly beautiful” better.
It did get a bit rough on occasion, especially when our guide, Tibu, aimed for the biggest, meanest potholes he could find. Emma and I loved it (despite the impression one might draw from the photos of her bouncing around next to Irene from Chicago), but there was an elderly English woman who looked like she’d have had a better time having a root canal, while Emma spotted a woman in another 4WD who was hanging on in sheer terror.
Wot a laff.



As an added bonus, one of the drivers was a mad Tahitian who loved playing up the “wild native” angle. An amazing character, and extremely entertaining. A picture will demonstrate better than I could ever explain, especially bearing in mind this was one of his tamer moments:

Anyhow we finally made it inland, our teeth mostly intact, and it was gorgeous. We lost count of the waterfalls, managed to see a few impressive freshwater eels, and finally stopped at one of those stunning vistas you expect to see in places like - well, Tahiti.

Very pleasant indeed.