Cruise Chronicles Day Two: Relaxation Comes

Saturday, March 12, 2011

I was assigned the third wakeup call, at 6:30 am (5:30 home time, some four hours after going to sleep).  After showering and a complimentary, yet worse-than-caf hotel breakfast, we were all ready to hit up the hotel shuttle bus to the airport, set to depart at 8:00.  On more than one occasion this morning, I made note that the previous time I had been awake at such early hours, I was in the midst of finishing a CP paper and pulling an almost-all-nighter.  So, after great effort by the entire family, working on more than a mild lack of sleep, there we all were, ready to be at the airport by 8:15.  But, the misfortune of the night before struck once again.  The Comfort Inn shuttle bus was broken down.  They were working on getting another hotel’s bus to take us.  Finally, after much frustration by all, the shuttle from Quality Inn got us to the airport.

Security at the Atlanta airport was as smooth, to quote Willie Gault, “as a chocolate swirl.”  The Hurdle four boarded their AirTran Boeing 717, sponsored by the Orlando Magic, at approximately 9:55 a.m., twenty minutes before departure time.  But, of course, our travels to Fort Lauderdale were not yet complete, so something else had to go wrong.  This time, the pilot had some computer failure, and had extra paper work to do as a result of it, so takeoff was delayed some forty-five minutes.  A beautiful pre-Spring day and XM radio made the flight itself enjoyable, once the plane left the ground.  Our scenic flight route gave us a view of Florida’s Gulf Coast from the time we flew over the Panhandle to our turn east over the Everglades.

Upon landing in Fort Lauderdale, we quickly proceeded to baggage claim, and hailed a taxi.  Cab number 443 took us directly to Port Everglades, where our ship, the M.S. Eurodam, was awaiting us at terminal number 26.  Boarding the ship was much simpler than two and a half years ago when we had three party members in wheelchairs, so we were on in a very decent amount of time.  However, they were trying to whisk us through at a frightening pace at times, causing my sleep-deprived temper to snap just the slightest bit.  We plopped into rooms 7028 and 7030 on the Rotterdam deck, and quickly made our way to the ninth deck, home of the Lido restaurants and pools.

After lunch, ship exploration commenced.  Christopher and I soon found the basketball court on deck, but not before many more had done the same.  Thus, we settled for a friendly game of mutual horrendousness at the ping pong table.  The horrendousness was capped off by, and ended with, a ping pong ball hit over the protective shield and down, down, down, presumably onto the dock.  We hit up the Lido pools next.  I spent most of this time relaxing in one of the four whirlpool hot tubs, Christopher, meanwhile, braved the frigid waters of the main pool.  The mandatory droll of the lifeboat drill followed, and I spent an hour or so on my own discovering the majesty that is the M.S. Eurodam.

Around the time of our departure, 5pm, I ventured onto one of the outside observational decks (well, all of them, really) to say farewell to the barely-visited city of Fort Lauderdale.  Shortly after was the first dinner in the Rembrandt dining room.  Smart casual night number one brought up great food and service.  Seated at table 132, our table attendant, Herry, was a blast from the past for the parents.  Herry was their dining steward on their last Caribbean cruise in 2006.  Tonight’s dinner selection included an Antipasto dish for me and the brother, a delicious garden salad with apples and green beans for all but Christopher, and a luscious Prime Rib for three of us, while Christopher once again differed with a Linguini dish.

After the dinner ended, I continued my explorations of the ship, accompanied this time by Dad, who wanted to burn off some of that incredible Holland America dinner.  Dad soon went off to sleep, while I did some more Eurodam discovery by myself.  I was soon through with that, and with it came the first of seven nights of restful, ocean-aided sleep.