So, what's the first thing you do on a cruise?............you look for food, of course and you never have to go very far. After depositing our large suitcases with the ship's staff on the dock, we dragged our smaller ones aboard, found our cabin and unpacked what we had. We worked up a big appetite so off we toddled to the first gargantuan feast, Fernie delighted that there are no more price tags.
Our Las Vegas friends, L&J were already aboard having been on for more than two weeks hooking a New Zealand cruise on the front of the Australian one. J's sister and brother-in-law, G&R were also with them. G&R hail from Missouri or Missourah as it's pronounced in their neck of the woods. It was going to be fun having them all with us for the next four weeks. Sadly, J's other sister had to cancel just weeks before the cruise for health reasons.
Our first piece of checked luggage had arrived in our cabin when we got back from lunch. “This was great” we thought, expecting the second one momentarily. But the hours went by, dinner time came and went, and still no suitcase. Wouldn't you know it was the one that we'd tucked our two LAX duty-free bottles of vodka into. Finally, we lined up at the purser's with all the other disgruntled passengers and we were asked “do you have any alcoholic beverages in your suitcase?” ….................Ummmmmmmm! What else could we say except “Yes”. The purser sent us down to 'security' on deck 4 – it sounded ominous. L went down with Fernie and thank goodness he did because when asked about the booze inside the suitcase, quick-thinking L chimed in snarkily with “It's just wine for goodness sake” and they released it to us without further inspection. Our room steward kept us stocked with fresh ice twice a day, clean highball & wine glasses and so we alternated rooms for our happy hours every afternoon before dinner. For some weird reason, Princess permits wine to be brought aboard as often as you want, so we sampled different Australian wines from each port of call.
When we first boarded, I was shocked at how old the passengers were – it was the 'nearly dead crowd'. They were so old......that I felt like a teenager. HA! You say. There definitely weren't many under 50's aboard. There were 30 children in total but then it wasn't school holidays yet. I think the average age ended up being around our age though when all the really old geezers moved out of the way. These long voyages (28 days) don't appeal to the young for several reasons – mostly, they don't get that much time off work and they don't have money that they're in a hurry to spend before they die.
The ship is full of Ozzies; Americans for a change are a minority and it seems as if most of the Australians come from the Melbourne area. There's a strong rivalry between the states of New South Wales and Victoria and between the cities of Sydney and Melbourne. Sydney gets all the attention from the rest of the world, because of its harbour and the opera house so Melbournians sneer and jeer when they hear someone's from Sydney.
Shipboard life muddles the brain; on sea days there's no need to think of anything but when the next meal is served or what time the entertainment starts. I have to keep reminding myself that these sea days are traveling days and we could be in airports, on & off planes all day. Then I keep the boredom at bay. It just seems such a waste of time otherwise to just sit in a deck chair reading a book – I can do that at home. I crave exploration. There are all sorts of events and pastimes to get involved in but they're not for us – 'been there, done that'. We're so jaded. I'm so glad that on this cruise the sea days are limited – no more than two sea days in a row and mostly just one at a time.
Adelaide (pronounced Adelide), in Southern Australia was thankfully overcast and cool instead of the extreme heat that had been forecast. A shuttle bus, compliments of the Adelaide merchants ushered us into town. I guess they expected us to spend money – well we did buy three bottles of wine to replenish our stock. Adelaide doesn't have the excitement of Sydney or the cosmopolitan air of Melbourne but it's an attractive and friendly city. What it lacks in vibrancy is made up by its cleanliness and order. We took a public bus out to the country town of Hahndorf in the green hills east of town. A peaceful faux German village with a main street lined with tourist shops, hotels and restaurants, it didn't keep our interest for long and we hopped on a bus back down to the city. The surrounding areas took a lot of damage in the out-of-control brush fires of last February, but none of it was apparent from the road.
A day in port, a day at sea, a day in port, a day at sea and then three ports in a row – now that's more my style. Then a day at sea was welcomed after traipsing around these towns for three consecutive days. From Adelaide, the ship crossed the middle of the continent across the Great Australian Bight (it looks as if a giant meteor once landed there and took a bite out of the continent), a wide expansive bay where it looks as if there's no civilization on the shores to speak of.
We ended up at Albany in the state of Western Australia; you'd have thought they could have found a more inventive name for a state, wouldn't you? A small town, population around 20,000, it lacked personality until we let the geocaches lead the way. We puffed up to Wagon Rock along a forested trail we'd never have found on our own, through shrubs laden with amber and rose-coloured blossoms, trees filled with cackling cockatoos up and out to a monstrous flat-topped rock on which the 360 degree vista made the sweaty climb all worthwhile. Soaked and exhausted, we still stopped at the giant discount liquor store 'Dan Murphy's' and picked up a couple of specialty wines 'tres cheap'.
There are some nice advantages from having sailed with Princess more than 15 times – this is our 18th cruise with this line One of the best perks is free laundry and dry cleaning. Fernie (aka the laundry guy) gathered up our dirty clothes every couple of days, listed them and left them for our steward.
“NO!” I said emphatically when he tried to put in my underwear. “I'll continue to hand wash them”. But he told me not to be so silly and put them in. So of course, I did. The first couple of loads came back intact but then one day when we checked the count, 3 pairs of my underwear and a pair of socks were missing. Three days later, still no luck. I envision some cross-dressing steward prancing around the ship in my panties – they're not lace or frilly and they're definitely not thongs, but they are awfully nice.
Next stop – Bunbury! Isn't that a name that evokes visions of motherly ladies with buns in their hair and gingham aprons, pulling trays of hot cookies or perhaps 'buns' from the oven? It's a quaint town just 100 miles south of Perth with lots of Victorian gingerbread and latticework on the downtown buildings. Shopping is 'the pits' anywhere in Australia because of the prices and there's not much in the way of tourist attractions in Bunbury other than the Dolphin Discovery Center. This center has the right idea because they do not in any way trap or cage the dolphins. The dolphins come into the bay of their own volition and even choose to swim with the flippered and goggled humans. But not when we were there. They chose instead to frolic and entertain around the cruise ship. Oh well, our $5 entry fee to the centre is well spent because of the work they do in protecting the wild dolphins. We are such philanthropists. Then once again the wonder of geocaching – we would have been so bored after our cursory look around town but with caches to hunt for, there are always hidden secret places to discover.
I can only put it down to a moment of temporary insanity but it's more likely second childhood. Fernie was aghast as I plucked a dead twig from a tree and etched G E R R I into the wet cement in a picnic shelter. After he got over the shock of me defacing public property, he said “ but you'll never be back in Bunbury to see it again!”. But I can imagine all the Bunbury families perhaps with one of those gingham-aproned grannies wondering who that GERRI is.
I don't remember if I've already mentioned the Australian flies yet, but no matter if I did, because they definitely deserve to be brought up again. These nasty little beasties are everywhere and I do mean everywhere. They like to fly into your face, especially eyes and mouth and if wearing sunglasses, they land on them and go 'walkabout'. So, we walk along the street waving across our faces to hold them at bay. I was told that this is called 'the Australian Salute'. One dear lady said “you don't need to suffer dear, you can buy Aerogard”. Oh goodie and off we went to buy this fly repellent and liberally coated our faces and hair with it daring the flies to touch us now. Well......they didn't give an Australian damn and seemingly enticed their friends to join them in the attack on the Canadians. $6.95 down the drain.
Perth. Funny how names can put you off a place – but it turned out to be so unlike my preconception. It's a lovely, clean and vibrant city riddled with quaint arcades and has lots of lush green parkland along the Swan River and throughout the town. We docked at Fremantle, the port city and took a train 12 miles into Perth.
Letting geocaching be our guide, we did a circuitous route about the city before ominous storm clouds rolled in and large raindrops made us run back to the built-up area and made a quick exodus back to Fremantle where the sun was still shining. Only 2 GC's were within a mile of the ship and wouldn't you know it they were at the highest point, an old navigational hill now a memorial to fallen soldiers. Hot, sweaty and tired, we headed back down towards Coles Liquorland – No, I don't have an alcohol problem; I just appreciate fine wines and I only have so much time in Australia to sample as many as I possibly can.
A sign caught our eye as we tottered back through town “Free Exhibit” That word 'free' is like a donkey's carrot to me. It was a strange and unlikely exhibit on the history of psychiatry and mental illness and the graphic audio-visual presentations portrayed the extreme torture that was used to heal the mad in bygone days. It was pretty gruesome. The purpose of the exhibit though was to bring attention to the fact that these days the mentally ill are over-medicated and not enough emphasis is put on research for cures.
Exmouth on the tip of the North West Cape in Western Australia, is hardly even a town. I don't know where the 2400 inhabitants live. Supposedly between April and October, another 4000 Australians flock here in caravans and motorhomes from the bitter cold south – I hear it goes down to around 5 degrees Celsius and that's probably overnight – the poor dears. Those aged roamers are called 'gray nomads' like our 'snowbirds'. The tropical north coast is always hot and a long reef teeming with sea life, the Ningaloo, lies just off the coast, in some places only 30 metres offshore. But it was a desolate place and even the Ozzies wanted a fast exit from Exmouth.
Emus run wild around town, on the lookout for handouts, I suppose. They're a bit skittish but cock their heads at you in a comical and expectant manner. We had hoped to get up to the Cape Range National Park and its steep gorges teeming with wildlife, about 15 miles out but found we'd need a 4 wheel drive which wasn't available, to get up the steep rocky hills where rock wallabies run amok.
A small snake called a 'guarda' looking much like our garter snake – maybe 15 inches long and as thick as my little finger – had the attention of a shopkeeper in the town square (if you could call it that). Feeling sorry for the reptile who appeared to be trying to get away as the shopkeeper used his shoe to corral it, I said “couldn't I just pick it up and move it over to the bushy area across the road?”. This brought derision “If ya' wanna spend a few weeks in hospital, then go ahead” he guffawed. The innocent looking snake was venomous.
My eyes have been accosted by the most horrendous sights on the sun decks aboard ship. Australian men wear Speedos. No matter that they're 75 years old, fat and flabby, skinny and bony or pasty white and not just the gay guys. At least most of the women keep their unsightly parts covered up even if their sense of style seems to be non-existent. Dowdy flowered housedresses proliferate as do polyester outfits that have been around for thirty years.
I've now talked to at least a hundred Australians and have gleaned all sorts of information from them such as how much they paid for their cruise and seeing as how they don't tip on land, what do they do about the automatic $10 a person tip applied to their accounts. Happy to report, they still paid a lot more for the cruise than we North Americans did even though it was heavily discounted in the last couple of months. Tipping though as some of the Ozzies said is 'just not done' and they filled out forms at the pursers to take the tips off their accounts. “If someone got a 10% tip in Australia, they'd faint” one guy said thinking that Americans tipped 10%. He thought us all absolutely mad when I told him, it was customary to pay 15% to 20%. Now these are my kind of people because as I've said before ad nauseam “I hate tipping”. So I lined up at the purser's office and filled out the form. However, now we can tip individuals for exceptional service.
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