[Hyacinth Bucket]

January 20th is another sea day. I relaxed and did some research. We had lunch with Harry Maurer, the magician performing on this cruise. It was interesting listening to him tell of his life living onboard a ship, how he performs his act regardless of the waters, rough or smooth sailing, visiting the many ports, and what his favorite ports were. There seemed to be general agreement that it would be nice if we could spend more time in each port, but then again, that is not the nature of a cruise.

We once again went to the second performance of his show. He performed tricks similar to Harry Houdini and also the same tricks. During the time he needed to set up the show he showed a brief history of Houdini and some of the feats he performed. When Maurer came on stage he enlightened of us where the name Houdini came from. It appears that the first famous Magician’s last name was Houdin. Harry Houdini added the i to the end of his name. We sat in the front row again and once again we were unable to see how he did the magic tricks he performed. He has excellent rapport with the audience.

January 21st, we arrive in Port Stanley, Falkland Islands. The first thing we notice is that at least 95% of the vehicles are Land Rovers. This automatically tells us a lot about the terrain and weather conditions of the island. Many of the Land Rovers, with rust and dents, appeared to have seen many winters; they looked like vintage well used vehicles. When we saw these vehicles, we wish we had planned to see more of the island other than for the town. When I spoke with one of the local shopkeepers who has lived on the island for decades, he felt I would learn more about the town by just continuing to ramble up and down the streets. He told me that the terrain I was seeing in town was the same as outside of town.

This island is self-governed except for international affairs, and then Great Britain makes the decisions for the island. In 1982 Argentina attacked the Falklands, known by them as the Malvinas, the Argentine Constitution stating that they are the rightful owners. Following the 10 week war, Great Britain ended up maintaining control over the island. We visited m the war monument in Port Stanley.

As I walked through Port Stanley, I could see the history of the area revealed by the street names: Occupation Street, Barracks Road and Thatcher Road. I noticed many Quonset huts here. Some are painted and appear to be used as homes and others as garages and/or sheds. They show there age and I could imagine living in one during the war.

Besides the Quonset huts I see different style of architecture. Most of the houses I saw reminded me of England. I saw what appeared to be the same white curtains with embroidery, chimneys with stove pipes with different designs, and general style of the homes. The flower gardens also looked like the ones I saw in front of English cottages. The gardens here as well as in England had flowers in a variety of colors, shapes, and heights varied and gave the general overall appearance of gardens I had seen. I once tried creating an English garden and was unable to get the same effect. My garden ended up being too orderly looking.

At many of the homes we passed we noticed they had a plot for veggies and another area for flowers. We were able to identify all the veggies and most of the flowering plants. Some islanders had a greenhouse attached to the house or as a separate standing building. In the green houses the plants were more matured than the ones we saw outdoors. They all looked extremely healthy, a vibrant dark green, some bearing fruit.

The roofs of the houses were quite interesting. They were painted various shades of the rainbow. We thought that on cloudy dreary days the roofs might inspire a smile or a positive feeling. Probably after living on the island and growing up here, you would not even notice the colors of the roofs.

Port Stanley did not have a thriving main street like many tourist towns, where there are numerous stores for the locals or for the tourist. There were a few tourist shops, a general store and a bread store. We saw one club that specified that non-residents were welcomed, and three restaurants. What was surprising was that the cost of food in the general store was not outrageously high considering the location of Port Stanley; on the other hand, the cost of Internet access at the port entrance was absolutely ridiculous! One of my colleagues found his way to a collectible shop (stamps, coins, books, and so forth) and learned a tremendous amount of history and other information from the shopkeeper—a definitely worthwhile visit..

January 22 – is a sea day—or perhaps I should call it a laundry day. There are four sets of washers and dryers on the Insignia. The laundry room opens at 7:30 am. My colleague feels he should go up by 7:08 am to be first on line. When he returns with the finished laundry he says he was third on line and the fourth person came only seconds after him. By 7:30 there was quite a line. Apparently a squabble started because the first person on line needed three laundry machines. Fellow passengers felt disgruntled because they realized their wait would be even longer. Colleague left as quickly as he could to get out of the firing line. . . .

While waiting on the line for the laundry area to open up, he was informed to make sure that he gets back to the laundry room a minute or so before his wash ends. This way he has a better chance of getting a dryer. He followed this sage advice and was able to get a dryer immediately when the laundry was finished. He says he noticed that if a washing machine finished, and the owner of the clothing was not there, someone would take it out and place it on the table. Can you imagine what it looked like if this happened to two or three people? I can just imagine this multi-colored mounds of clothing and hands poring through it to identify what is whose.

January 23 and we arrive in Puerto Madryn, Argentina. A beautiful clear sunny day with brilliant blue skies. As we walk to the town we go past a beach that looks very inviting. We see a school group practicing agility moves. I do not think I could do as well as the worst team member. The tide is going out and is exposing more of the beach, and people are slowly moving their blankets closer to the water as we walk by.

I wasn’t too sure what I wanted to do today. There were a few trips I wanted to take and they all sounded equally wonderful. I enjoyed my day walking around the town, peeking into the various local shops, and just sitting and watching people walk by. Then I decided to walk along the beach and watch the tide go out. It brought back many childhood memories; I grew up a block from the beach and spent nearly every day walking on the boardwalk or on the beach.

My friends and I would meet with our blankets towels and the most important item – Coppertone tanning cream. We would put on the cream and lie down in the hot sun and bake. When we got too hot, we would run into the cold water, and take a swim, ride the waves, or just float on top of the water and feel ourselves lifted and then lowered as we floated. And then go back and bake. That as you can guess was before anyone spoke about skin cancer, not baking in the sun, spf numbers and harmful sun rays.

As I grew older I became more aware of the ocean, the waves, thundering sound of the waves crashing on the beach, smell of the salt air and the rippling lines the water made as it receded from the beach. Then there was the search for unusual shaped and colorful shells and watching the sand crabs scurry around at the water’s edge leaving a trail behind them as they went form one burrow to another. Then there were the horseshoe crabs, but by the time they reached the beach they were usually dead.

Then there was the sun on the water. The reflection of the sun on the water made it sparkle. Sometimes it looked like there were gold flakes floating on the water or diamonds. Then there were the overcast days, gray skies, that made the water looked and sounded ominous. The waves were larger, came faster and the crashing sound they made on the beach was thunderous at times. Needless to say, I enjoyed my days living near the ocean.

Those who went see the Magellan penguin colony in Punta Tombo were absolutely thrilled. This is the largest Magellan penguin colony on the continent. At the same time they saw numerous sea birds that they hadn’t seen before. I met up with my fellow passenger whom I wrote about before. He was grinning from ear to ear, his speech so animated as he spoke about his experience visiting this colony of penguins. He started off by saying he owed this wonderful experience to his wife and it made up for the wine and champagne tasting adventures she had dragged him to.

He told us they were all over the place, running to and fro, walking in front of him on the paths, saying he had nearly tripped over a couple of them. Then he delighted in telling tales of the penguins frolicking in the water, riding the waves, their waddle as they walked out of the ocean. He said the babies were very quiet but not precocious like children are. Magellan penguins make burrows in the sand and that is where he saw many babies either being fed by their parent or lying in the sun fast asleep. As he spoke he laughed thinking about hundreds of penguins waddling about and enjoying themselves in the water.

Jan. 24 was our final sea day. I sat on the pool deck and looked up at a picture perfect blue sky. Not a cloud in sight, the breeze was warm, the water as calm as a lake, the deck chair comfy, a light blanket on me, and the next thing I realized I was far away day dreaming. I thought to myself this was truly the life.

Another time when I sat on the pool deck the breeze was not as warm; it was a chilly day, there were clouds in the sky, the sun played hide and seek behind the clouds, the sea was a bit rougher, my cushioned deck chair was very comfortable, and a colleague had wrapped me in 10 blankets. I think if someone walked by they could see only my nose and eyes. There were only a couple of people out today, under as many blankets. I looked at the clouds and watched them change shape, watched how they turned to different shades of gray and move on. It reminded me of my childhood when I would see all these different animals in the clouds, castles floating by, and shapes that I could not put a name on.

I hated to leave this warm cozy place, but I had told my colleagues that I would meet them at the cooking demonstration. Reluctantly I got up and felt the cold sea breeze and the spray on my face. I hurried to the door, to feel the warmth of the ship.

I made my way down the soft carpeted stairs and was intrigued by the different aromas coming from the theater where the cooking demonstration was taking place. I joined the other passengers as they streamed in and took seats. We were lucky to get front row seats. My expectation was to watch a dish being prepared that I would never make. The ingredients used for this exotic dish would come from all over the world.

To my surprise it wasn’t a dish without a million exotic ingredients, but one I have made in the past. Ragout. I listened and watched with great interest. The chef took a simple dish and presented it as an appetizer with a scallop on top. I never knew this dish could look so tempting and at the same time be used as an appetizer.

The head chef and his assistant apparently got along extremely well. The banter between the two made the audience laugh. The head chef would watch his assistant and make sure he never took any short cuts, as he had. He showed the pineapple he was using for the dish already diced. The head chef took the pineapple away and told him he had to start the recipe from scratch including demonstrating how to cut the pineapple.

When the Italian chef joined them, the banter was about how different the chefs from both countries express themselves. The French chefs mimicked the Italian chef’s use of hand gestures and the Italian chef demonstrated with what appeared to be great glee as he demonstrated how the French chefs express themselves: It was with a sound, and the closest sound I can think of is the Bronx cheer or when a baby learns how to blow bubbles.

We were all delightfully surprised with this demonstration. Emril, move over, you have competition. The guest chef was initially part of the steering committee of the Culinary Institute of America and is presently on their board. The CIA is in Hyde Park, NY, not far from where we live. As we spoke with him there was mutual agreement that we knew some of the same chefs and local places to shop.

He knows the head pastry chef of Mohonk Mountain House. We told him about the Chocolate Weekend they do at the resort and suggested he join us. This is an experiential weekend that we are unable to do justice to, that is to describe all the wonderful different flavors, textures, and aromas of chocolates. It is a hands-on weekend, and everyone is on a chocolate high. Fortunately they use a lot of dark chocolate so that it is good for your heart. Of course, our prime reason for going is the benefit our heart will receive. . . .

We all agreed that we never thought that our local shops where we shop would be the same shops this chef shops in.