tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-74154552727173888072024-03-12T19:06:22.993-07:00Looking for Bali HaiAn author explores the South Pacific...Lexi Eddingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07902276093123141423noreply@blogger.comBlogger20125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7415455272717388807.post-44503940643499173922016-05-09T13:25:00.000-07:002017-03-25T12:21:07.736-07:00Wanderlust Wrap UpNow that I'm home and have finally whittled the mountain of laundry down to a manageable molehill, I thought I'd go back through our pictures and share two islands I didn't get posted while I was on the ship.<br />
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First up, the pearl of the Pacific--Tahiti!<br />
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Captain Van Eerten juggled our schedule around so that we went to Tahiti before Mo'orea. It was an absolute necessity because the ship had to take on more fuel and supplies. I suppose this was because there was a typhoon swirling over Fiji and we might have had to skip Mo'orea and make a run for San Diego. But the storm only swatted us with its outer arms.<br />
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Tahiti is the largest island in the French Polynesian chain with the highest peak. This gorgeous place is home to most of the inhabitants, almost 200,000 of them. The interior of the island still pretty inaccessible. People live in the capital city of Pape'ete and along the single road hugging the reef-sheltered coasts.<br />
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We took a bus tour along that route and stopped at a beautiful botanical garden. It was drizzling for most of our jaunt through the rain forest, which made it difficult for my DH. He was wearing my portable oxygen concentrator on his back. It was both heavy and hot, but he didn't complain.<br />
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God bless the man!<br />
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The flowers were gorgeous, though I can't tell you their names, and small crabs scuttled across the path as we pushed through the greenery. It felt and smelled very primeval.<br />
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The path was nicely graveled, but as humid and hot as it was, it felt like we were going uphill both ways! </div>
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Forget the umbrella. Not a single square inch of me is dry. </div>
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But finding this secluded waterfall was well worth the slog into the rainforest to get there. </div>
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We visited the Museum of Tahiti and learned about the volcanic birth of the islands and how their reefs were formed. Polynesian culture is fascinating and I'm still in awe of the courage it took to head out in double hull canoes with only the navigational skill of their Wayfinder to guide them. These ancient wayfarers used the stars, weather patterns, sea birds, and changes in water color and direction to point them toward land.</div>
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Much was said about the time French Impressionist Paul Gaugin spent in Tahiti. None of his canvases remain on the island, but I can certainly see why he found the place inspiring.</div>
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A mere 12 mile ferry ride away lies the enchanting island of Mo'orea. The movie <i>The Bounty</i> (with Mel Gibson & Anthony Hopkins) was set on these shores, When I stepped out onto our veranda shortly after the <i>Westerdam</i> dropped anchor, the sheer beauty of the place made the back of my throat ache. I was so grateful to be there, to see that grandeur, to breathe in that moist green air. It made me weep. Even in drizzly weather, it is truly the most beautiful island I've ever seen. </div>
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We took a "round the island" tour with a strange little bus driver named Albert. He told us he had 3 wives (all at the same time!), 12 children and more grandkids than he could remember. The highlight of the trip was this lookout point about 3000 ft up the mountains looking down on the twin bays. You can barely make out the <i>Westerdam </i>at anchor in the mist.(It's that rectangular object in the water.)</div>
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In the early morning, the island is awash in shades of slate and gray.</div>
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As in the southern part of the US, pineapples mean welcome!</div>
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The vanilla flower, sweet, simple and difficult to pollinate. </div>
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The influence of French settlers is easy to see.</div>
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A giant in the mist...</div>
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At the end of the 30 days, we weren't tired of the ship, but we were missing our family, our pets and our own bed! It was a wonderful experience and we feel so blessed to have been able to celebrate our 40th anniversary in this way.</div>
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But, we're not the sort to rest on our travel laurels. We've already booked cruises to the western Caribbean in January 2017 and then we're off to Alaska in September of the same year. Then in 2018, we'll try Cunard for the first time and take the 21 day sale out of New York to Norway and back on the Queen Mary 2!</div>
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Wishing you safe journeys and a snug harbor, my friends...</div>
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<br />Lexi Eddingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07902276093123141423noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7415455272717388807.post-65827694758113815872016-05-02T13:57:00.000-07:002017-03-25T12:02:29.162-07:00Morbid Much?So now we're home from the wonderful trip to French Polynesia. The cruise was amazing and I feel so very blessed to have been able to make the voyage, even with all my O2 equipment in tow.<br />
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However, not everyone who steps onto a cruise ship walks off. I'm not talking about the sad incident where a mother of 4 fell off the railing on a Carnival Cruise recently and was never found. I'm talking about those who die of natural causes on board.<br />
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I'd never thought about it much until we had lunch one day with a fellow and his wife who brought up the subject. He was telling about a different cruise where they'd been struck by how often the fresh flowers that decorate the dining tables, common areas and staterooms were changed. They'd never seen so many arrangements on board before. When they asked a crew member about it, he admitted that they'd had more people die on the trip than they'd <i>planned for </i>so they had to make more room in the cooler for the extra bodies.<br />
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<b><i>Planned for?</i></b><br />
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Yes. Cruise lines plan for everything. After all, people have been dying at sea for millennia and not all of them have been buried at sea. Admiral Nelson's body, for example, was brought home after the Battle of Trafalgar in a barrel filled with brandy. Now cruise ships estimate how much refrigerated space they'll need to return deceased passengers to their home port.<br />
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In the Q&A session with the captain, he admitted that during the 111-day Round the World cruise, they expect 4 deaths. Given the demographic of passengers who can afford such a cruise and have the leisure time to take it, I'm not surprised.<br />
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And I'm not sad either. We all have to die somewhere. Why not shuffle off this mortal coil while you're having an adventure?<br />
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If I have anything to say about it, I'll finish up a cruise in a refrigerator someday. And I'll smile down from heaven while everyone else enjoys the extra flowers...Lexi Eddingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07902276093123141423noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7415455272717388807.post-85057173535711707242016-04-28T14:23:00.000-07:002017-03-25T12:01:00.298-07:00Shared Experiences Make Fast Friends<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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We were assigned to a dining table for evening meals at the beginning of our cruise. This is always a crap shoot. Sometimes you get compatible and interesting table mates, like the time we were seated with a pair of WWII vets. Sometimes you get people who try to coerce you into their interests, like the fellow who was obsessed with something called "pickle ball" and wouldn't rest until the DH met him on the sports deck for a game.<br />
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This time we were fortunate to be placed with Bruce and Judy from California. </div>
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Between the four of us, we've solved the world's problems over dinner several times and often linger over our desert for the joy of continuing our pleasant conversations. So we decided to meet on Nuku Hiva, our last port of call, for a walk-about together. </div>
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I was a little leery about this island because of its head-hunting past and not-so-distant incidence of possible cannibalism. (In 2011, a German tourist went missing and was later found dead under very mysterious circumstances.) But I was pleasantly surprised when we stepped off the tender. The islanders were friendly and the town of Taiohae clean and well-kept.</div>
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Still, we kept within sight of the <i>Westerdam</i>...</div>
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But this was mostly because it was so very hot and humid that walking too far in those conditions was difficult for me. My portable oxygen concentrator has to work overtime to provide the support I need when there's so much moisture in the air. But we managed to make it far enough down the beach to find a monument to French sailors who died in a battle in those waters in the early 1800's. They must have felt like they'd come to the end of the world. I know I feel a fresh appreciation for the monumental size of the Pacific and I have the benefit of a state of the art cruise ship under my feet instead of a 19th century tall ship.</div>
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The waterfront is dotted with numerous carvings. They're so primitive, they appear strangely modern. </div>
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And since I started this post talking about dinner companions, I'll end it with a pic of one of the unique entrees I've enjoyed on the cruise. This is <i>Nasi Goreng</i>, an Indonesian dish. It's pork satay, spicy chicken and beef Sumatra on a bed of fried rice. It's garnished with scallions, red onion, cucumbers and a julienne omelet. The thing that looks like a fried pig's ear is actually a prawn cracker. Yum!</div>
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If you haven't already, let me invite you to <a href="http://www.lexieddings.com/">sign up for my author newsletter</a>. Once I get home, my newsletter readers will be receiving a number of recipes I've collected from the Cuisinary Arts Center on board. I'll also be sharing more pictures from our trip once I'm back on our home wifi. </div>
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It takes F-O-R-E-V-E-R for photos to download here on the ship. </div>
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Thanks for coming along with me on the voyage!<br />
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Lexi Eddingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07902276093123141423noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7415455272717388807.post-26948032074342249352016-04-24T14:25:00.000-07:002017-03-25T11:51:30.100-07:00Sacred Spaces<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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As long as humans have lived on this planet, we've looked up into the night sky and longed to talk to the One who made the stars. Like Jacob, who set up a stone after he dreamed about a ladder reaching to heaven, we tend to mark certain places that have given us a sense of special connection to the divine.<br />
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Since it's Sunday, I thought I'd share a few pics of this sort of place from several of our very soggy shore excursions. We'll be island hopping a bit.<br />
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This first picture is of St. Benedict's from the Big Island of Hawai'i. The church structure was built around 1899 and then a Belgian missionary priest painted the interior scenes (with house paint of all things!) There are idyllic scenes of creation and, in stark contrast, a truly nightmarish depiction of hell on the opposite section of the walls. All the painting has been recently touched up, except for the view of the underworld. Evidently, its purpose is fulfilled without additional embellishment.<br />
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Belshazzar's feast--Note the handwriting on the wall...</div>
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A closer view of the altar (without anonymous heads in the way!)</div>
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Jesus rejecting the temptations of Satan</div>
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Hell (Sort of needs no explanation, doesn't it?)</div>
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The church is still in use by an active congregation. There is a a sweet stillness about it and the green gardens around it add to the peacefulness of the place.<br />
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Also near Kona, there is a special place of refuge called <i>Pu'uhonua o Honaunau</i>. If someone broke a <i>kapu,</i> such as letting your shadow fall on the chief's land, there was no trial. The ancient Hawaiians had no prisons. The punishment for any infraction was death.<br />
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Unless...<br />
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If you could reach a <i>pu'uhonau</i>, you could be forgiven and after 3 days released without further punishment. Of course, this particular <i>pu'uhonau</i> was bounded on all landward sides by the chief's land, so there was no walking to it. An offender must take his chances in the shark infested surf in order to escape his death sentence.<br />
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When Christian missionaries came, most of the places of refuge were torn down, but this one survived fairly intact. Several members of the Hawaiian royal family are buried there.<br />
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More lava than sand on this beach</div>
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The carved posts guarding the place of refuge were fierce-looking.</div>
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Ancient double hull canoe</div>
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Between the surf, the sharks and the lava that would slash a swimmer's feet once he staggered to shore, finding refuge was not for the faint of heart. But the site was dedicated to life, so human sacrifice was not performed on the grounds.</div>
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The same cannot be said for other <i>marae</i>. We saw these volcanic rock open air temples on nearly every island we visited, but the one on Tahiti, the main island of French Polynesia, was the largest and most complex.<br />
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This <i>marae</i> was guarded by large male and female tiki figures. The statues are not worshipped as gods, but are thought to hold <i>mana</i> (power) during the rituals. The ancient Tahitians had many gods and the rites performed here were to placate them and urge them to aid the people in some special undertaking--a war with a neighboring tribe or a migration to a new island. Only men were allowed inside the <i>marae</i>, but lest we ladies feel put upon about that, remember that the person chosen for sacrifice was picked from those inside the stone walls.<br />
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Clearly, this was not a time to be on the outs with the priests!<br />
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Tiki figures were not worshipped. Instead they were thought to hold <i>mana</i> or power, which could be tapped into. I'm sad to report that some of my fellow passengers made fun of the figures by taking pictures of themselves imitating the posture and expression of the statues. I had to wonder how they'd feel if a Tahitian visited their hometown, went to sites that were dear to them and laughed at their culture or beliefs. </div>
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Now most Polynesians are Christian, about 80% Protestant and 20% Catholic. We were delighted to hear the same table prayer we use sung in Hawaiian. While we're loving this trip and totally enjoying the ship, I have to admit I miss my church. But God, a personal, eternal, omnipotent God, is here in the middle of the Pacific. And however imperfectly we understand Him, however inadequate our worship, He's already reached down to us.<br />
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He's just waiting for us to reach up.Lexi Eddingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07902276093123141423noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7415455272717388807.post-33822824300878447792016-04-20T14:27:00.000-07:002017-03-25T11:17:42.062-07:00Something Cancelled, Something GainedThis morning we learned that our Glass Bottom Boat excursion on Bora Bora was cancelled due to bad weather (read: occasional torrential downpours!) and poor visibility. However, we refused to let a little thing like that get us down. Who knows when or if we'll ever see this island again? As long as the ship's tenders were running, we were bound and determined to have an adventure!<br />
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On shore, we found a nice young man named Bruce who offered us a circle of the island tour in his air conditioned Land Rover. He was born on Vanau (the real name of the island of Bora Bora.) His father is an American who came here to run one of the fabulous resorts, and ended up marrying a Tahitian woman. Bruce speaks English, French, Spanish, and Tahitian. He's married and has two beautiful kids.<br />
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We learned that formal education ends at age 16 here in the islands and there is no university on Bora Bora. Many people used to work in the tourism industry, but since 9/11, the number of visitors has dropped considerably. There are easily a half dozen resorts standing empty and employing only enough groundskeepers to keep the vegetation from taking over the buildings.<br />
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Bruce says that other than needing to pay for water (which is provided by the French government through an expensive desalinization plant) and electricity (also through the government) many people have few bills. The government provides health care, including medications. The residents grow their own fruit and vegetables. They raise chickens and hogs. They fish in the abundant waters around the island. And, I'm sorry to have to tell you, they also enjoy eating wild dog. We saw dozens of these miserable creatures slinking around the island. But this is the culture and I can only thank God I've never been hungry enough to eat dog. <br />
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The island is spectacular, lush and heavily overgrown. Multiple waterfalls cascade down the steep mountainsides. The lovely, calm interior bay is actually an ancient caldera, the remains of the volcano that gave birth to the island.<br />
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During WWII, the US military had a strong presence in French Polynesia. There are still man-made caves that housed cannon to defend the harbor. And in what seems to us today an astonishing disregard for the environment, the harbor was made easier for destroyers to enter by blowing up part of the reef. Of course, it also made it easier for our cruise ship to visit, too.<br />
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As wonderful as the scenery is, the people are even more lovely. We stopped at one road-side shop operated by a family. They offered us samples of fresh coconut, breadfruit and grapefruit. I passed on the grapefruit, but the breadfruit was amazing--like nothing I've ever tasted before. A truly unusual texture as well.<br />
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Here's the DH taking a sip of extremely fresh coconut milk. The natives use every bit of the plant, from fiber to weave into necklaces and use as tinder to fermenting the shells into coconut oil for use in skin treatments. We also watched the natives use flowers and other plants to create dyes for the sarongs the island women wear.<br />
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The welcoming committee</div>
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Bruce prepares fresh coconut for us.</div>
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WWII canon cave</div>
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This older resort was once owned by Marlon Brando!</div>
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There's a reason the island is so lush and green. Liquid sunshine falls in abundance!</div>
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We also visited Bloody Mary's Bar (think Rogers & Hammerstein's <i>South Pacific</i>!) and walked along a stretch of golden sand, letting the warm waters of the ocean caress our calves. The tour was so much better, so much richer an experience than riding in a Glass Bottom Boat.<br />
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Today reminded me that it's foolish to be upset if your plans have to change. Life is filled with moments when things don't go our way.<br />
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But it doesn't have to mean things can't be even better than we'd planned. We had a ball on Bora Bora!<br />
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<br />Lexi Eddingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07902276093123141423noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7415455272717388807.post-45723127255245036932016-04-19T14:31:00.000-07:002017-03-25T08:27:15.579-07:00Taking in the Local Culture...Last night we tied up to the pier on Raiatea and for the first time in over 10 days, slept without the pitch and roll of our "water bed." This morning we wakened to a veritable anvil chorus of roosters--each of them trying to out-scream each other. Evidently, the birds roam freely, like on Kauai.<br />
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After breakfast in our cabin, we hurried off the ship to see what we could. Because of the rain and worsening conditions, ALL the Holland America excursions were cancelled. But that didn't stop the Raiateans from giving us a very warm welcome just a few blocks away from the ship. Part of the charm of travel is seeing how other people live, how they celebrate what makes them unique. Here's just a taste of what we experienced:<br />
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We were so glad we braved the rain! </div>
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Lexi Eddingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07902276093123141423noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7415455272717388807.post-17965020531433020752016-04-17T14:00:00.000-07:002017-03-25T08:18:11.401-07:00In Praise of Travel Insurance<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This is the first time we decided to buy travel insurance for our cruise. Even though we hope not to use it, I have to admit it gives me real peace of mind. Especially after what happened this morning...<br />
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We've been at sea for a number of days (Read: Since we left Kona, Hawai'i and breezed past Fanning Island without stopping, I don't remember the last time the floor wasn't rocking under my feet!) But as we came alongside the windward side of the beautiful island of Rarotonga, I didn't hold out much hope. There's no pier here, so the cruise ship has to drop anchor, lower the tenders (which double as life boats) and ferry passengers to shore in groups of 120 or so.<br />
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The captain did his best. He tried several different times to situate the <i>Westerdam</i> so she wouldn't drift in the rolling swells. The anchor wouldn't hold. The tenders were pitching so violently alongside, there was no way they could allow non-crew members to make the leap from the platform near the waterline into the open tender hatch. One misstep and someone could be crushed between the tender and the ship. So the captain cancelled the port of call.</div>
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However, the crew of the <i>Westerdam</i> put half a dozen tenders into the water to ferry in the donations the ship had intended to leave at Fanning Island. The Red Cross on Rarotonga was happy to meet them at the dock to receive the goods and promised to try to send some of it to Fanning. Then one of the passengers, who's medical situation was more than the ship's infirmary could deal with, was lifted carefully on a gurney and taken by tender to the waiting ambulance, and an emergency medical airlift to Australia. </div>
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Let me be quick to say that cruising is one of the best ways for someone with health challenges to travel. There are a number of guests who, like me, require supplemental O2. There are many wheelchairs and motorized scooters on board. There are even a few blind passengers. The crew bends over backward to help. And the fact that there is a fully staffed medical center with doctors and nurses, x-ray machines and all sorts of bells and whistles, means they can take care of lots of things that come up.</div>
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But when they can't, the Holland American line moves heaven and earth to get their guests to on shore help. And that's where travel insurance comes in. </div>
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If, God forbid, something happened that required Brian or I to need to be airlifted home, the insurance we bought will spend up to a million dollars to get us there. Since we're sort of in the middle of nowhere, (the Pacific Ocean is the largest geographic feature on the planet, after all!) emergency medical flights from here might just run up to that. It's comforting to know we've got it covered just in case.</div>
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So now we're on our way to Raiatea and real pier. It's almost time for another splendid supper in the Vista dining room and the show tonight is an Elton John impersonator. We should recognize a lot of the songs. </div>
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Even if we haven't been able to walk the beaches on Rarotonga, life is good. And we feel very safe on the <i>Westerdam.</i> </div>
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No day at the Raratongan beach</div>
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But it's all good. After missing two ports in succession, Holland America has offered us all a credit toward a future cruise equal to 15% of what we paid for this trip! The cruise line can't be held responsible for poor weather conditions, but they want to keep their passengers happy and loyal. So we're splurging on a Signature Suite for our September 2017 Alaskan cruise on the <i>Eurodam</i>! </div>
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Hope you'll check out my <b><i><a href="http://2017halalaska.blogspot.com/">North to Alaska!</a></i></b> blog.</div>
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Lexi Eddingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07902276093123141423noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7415455272717388807.post-722505644490918822016-04-16T14:34:00.000-07:002017-03-25T07:55:11.193-07:00Welcome to the WesterdamWell, we've been at sea since . . . oh, Monday, I think. The days are starting to run together and weeks seem kind of fluid when you cross the international dateline, lose a day and then regain it, ending up with TWO Fridays. The crew is kind enough to remind us what day it is by changing the carpet in the elevators, but <i>which</i> Friday we were on was anyone's guess!<br />
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Anyway, I thought I'd give you a tour of our floating resort, the Holland America <i>Westerdam</i>. I love the ship. It always seems as much a destination as any of the ports of call. Like a small town on the waves, it has everything you might want. For example, there's a library in case you've left your e-reader behind. There's even an on board book club.<br />
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For people who like to gamble, there's a casino. I usually avoid it when I can because it's the one place on the ship where smoking is allowed. Since I'm on supplemental O2, cigarette smoke is not recommended. But, if you enjoy slots or blackjack, you can lose money any time we're not in port.<br />
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I adore art, so the gallery is a favorite haunt of mine. There are several auctions scheduled for various times during the cruise. So far, I've resisted raising my bidding number, but the cruise isn't over yet. There's another one scheduled for this afternoon, so we'll see if I can keep from adding to my collection. I'm afraid to pick a bright hues for my walls or furniture, but my artwork serves as wild splashes of color in my home. The signed print shown here is a Chagall--far more expensive than anything I'd try for, but it's fun to see a fine work like this up close and personal. Just imagine! If only I were willing to sell a kidney, it could be mine!<br />
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The chefs on board are gracious enough to do culinary demonstrations almost every day. And they share their recipes too! In case you missed it, I posted a <a href="http://leddings.blogspot.com/2016/04/a-taste-of-hawaii.html">Sweet & Spicy Pork</a> recipe earlier, and plan to share a great one for Shrimp Kabobs on my newsletter once I get home again. <i>(Hint! This is your cue to sign up for my newsletter in the form to the right!)</i><br />
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Those of you who know me, know that I am the Anti-Shopper, but the ship makes picking up nice things for family and friends easy. There's a clothing shop, and a very spendy jewelry shop that we have to walk through each time we make our way to the Vista Dining Room. They change out the stock as often as most folks change their socks, so if you see something you want, you need to nab it.<br />
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Of course, the ship has a big pool and hot tubs on the Lido Deck. But the DH and I have made the spa and Thermal Suite our home away from home. This is a private section of the ship with a large whirlpool and heated stone lounges. We nap on them almost every day.<br />
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Then there are the card clubs, trivia games, lectures and classes available. Speaking of which...our native guide Kainoa is about to give a talk on Papeete, Tahiti and it pays to arrive in the theater early if you want a good seat.<br />
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More to pics from around the ship...<br />
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Kainoa, our island guide</div>
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One of the many towel animals that greet us each evening</div>
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The ladies at the spa--our happy place!</div>
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The DH on the deck</div>
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His Viking heritage insures that he never suffers from <i>mal de mer. </i>I however, am a member of the Scopalamine Patch Club!</div>
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The crew is wonderful--always cheerful and so very helpful.</div>
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We are HERE.</div>
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<br />Lexi Eddingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07902276093123141423noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7415455272717388807.post-75609996500684687042016-04-13T14:07:00.000-07:002017-03-25T07:41:34.500-07:00Never Have I Ever on a Cruise Ship...I've done several things on this cruise that I've never done on a ship before. For example:<br />
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<li><b>I sent clothes out to be laundered. </b>I've used the self-serve laundromat on cruise ships before, but the Westerdam doesn't have one. Hence, the need to let someone else fold my undies.</li>
<li><b>I sang karioke. </b> Yes, I have a music degree and all, but I've never stood up in front of a bunch of strangers with a microphone and tried to sing to a taped accompaniment without at least one practice run through. Until this trip.</li>
<li><b>I found out first hand where the infirmary is. </b></li>
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Yep, I made a trip to the shipboard doc yesterday. But it wasn't for me. My DH developed a bad cough and when his eyes started looking red and infected, I insisted that he visit the infirmary. The doc fixed him up with antibiotic eye drops and a stronger decongestant than we'd brought with us. He's resting well and feeling better now.</div>
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And the fourth thing I've never done on a cruise ship:</div>
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4. <b>I decided not to go ashore to protect the natives. </b></div>
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When Captain Cook first visited the Hawaiian Islands in the 18th century, he estimated there were almost a million inhabitants. Within 70 years, there were only 88,000. The English brought new diseases for which the islanders had no immunity whatsoever. </div>
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Before the captain cancelled our call to the remote island of Tabuaeran, the DH and I had already decided we'd remain on board ship. If we're bearing viruses, we want to keep them to ourselves.</div>
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That goes for our fellow passengers too. A ship is sort of a floating petri dish. We've been keeping to our cabin while this cold virus works its way out of our systems. When we do venture out, we take pains not to touch anything and make frequent use of the hand sanitizers. </div>
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Of course, I do that anyway since my immune system is suppressed by the meds I take. But now I'm doing it to protect others instead of feeling precious about myself. </div>
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That's actually a nice change. </div>
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<br />Lexi Eddingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07902276093123141423noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7415455272717388807.post-38685562677646356342016-04-13T12:37:00.000-07:002017-03-25T07:38:38.836-07:00Fanning Island, Almost...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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After leaving Hawai'i, we turned our noses south and cruised for two days, before we finally fetched up alongside Fanning Island early this morning.<br />
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It's real name is Tabuaeran and it's part of the very small country of Kiribati (pronounced "Kee-ree-bahs"). The island is a thin cusp of land around the edge of an atoll (read: extinct, eroded volcano) with a fifty foot deep lagoon in the middle. It roughly forms the shape of a footprint, which is what Tabuaeran means in Gilbertese, the language spoken by the 2000 souls who live there. The highest point on Tabuaeran is only 12 ft. above sea level, which makes it one of the most vulnerable places for human habitation in the whole wide world.<br />
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There is no electricity. No public water works. People rely on rain catchment systems. 95% of the folks who live there have never worn shoes, even though walking is the main way of getting from point A to point B. We were told to expect to see grass huts. People farm kelp and fashion handmade crafts to earn an average wage of $10 a month. The grocery store is a simple building. No one goes into it. They simply meet the grocer at the dutch door and tell him what staples they need. He takes the Spam or other canned goods from the shelves and hands them over the half door. The island receives supplies by ship four times a year.<br />
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As a result, there are no services on the island for visitors. If we want something to eat or drink, we must bring it from the ship. We can't take what little the residents have, even if we can pay handsomely for it. What good is our money to them if they run out of supplies before the next ship comes? <br />
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Holland America brings extras to the island--building materials, school books & supplies, medicines, clothing, toiletries, and dry goods. And with the influx of tourists who will snap up shell necklaces and distribute goodies, the day when the cruise ship comes turns into something of festival with singing and dancing and fun in the sun.<br />
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But this morning when the <i>Westerdam </i>arrived, the sky was lowering. Rain came down in buckets and a squall broke over the island, blasting us with 40 knot winds. The visibility dropped to zero. Tabuaeran is a tender port, which means there's no pier for our ship to tie up on. We'd have to board the small tender boats and ride the waves in, pitching and rolling. Instead, our captain ordered the anchor raised and we pulled away without setting a toe on the atoll. He came over the loud speaker and apologized for cancelling the port of call, but the safety of the passengers and his crew is his first priority.<br />
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There was a good bit of belly-aching around the ship, but I appreciated the captain for making that choice. Seeing people living as Hawaiians did 300 years ago would have been fascinating, but it's not worth life and limb. Besides, the fact that we sailed away without stopping is much worse for the islanders, who were expecting a windfall, than for us, who were merely hoping for a <i>National Geographic</i> moment.<br />
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And anyway, the DH and I had already decided we weren't going ashore. I'll explain why in my "Never Have I Ever..." post. Lexi Eddingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07902276093123141423noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7415455272717388807.post-70274804440666501522016-04-12T14:11:00.000-07:002016-12-01T14:12:18.072-08:00Finding the Strawberry in the SituationI try to look on the bright side. I really do.<br />
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And why shouldn't I? Here I am on a luxurious ship, traveling to places I've only dreamed of. But sometimes, lugging around Herkimer (my portable oxygen concentrator) gets a little tiresome. My POC makes my mobility possible, but he's also awkward in tight places and in a crowd I live in fear that someone will trip over his rolling cart.<br />
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It helps that when we leave the ship for the uneven ground of a shore excursion, my DH wears Herkimer on his back. Of course, this means we're tethered together by my 7 ft. cannula, but fortunately, we enjoy each other's company. Occasionally, we get tangled up and have to do a few pirouettes, but then we soldier on. <br />
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So, there's the strawberry in the situation. I may be dependent on Herkimer for the extra O2 I need, but I'm so tremendously blessed to have a husband I can count on to help lighten my load.<br />
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I need him like I need my next breath. And because of him, even with this lung disease, I'm the luckiest woman alive.Lexi Eddingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07902276093123141423noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7415455272717388807.post-89868313915349567472016-04-11T14:45:00.000-07:002017-03-25T07:34:36.853-07:00When You Don't Say "I Do..."We all know the magic words that clinch the marriage vows. It's those lovely two syllables--"I do." (Of course, my dad always warned that you should be very sure before you say "I do," because you surely will!)<br />
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But I learned that not all wedding ceremonies are the same. In fact, the right word to seal the deal in a Polynesian wedding is "no!" Let me explain.<br />
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In the Tahiti village at the Polynesian Cultural Center, my DH and I got to attend a traditional Tahitian wedding. First, this lovely couple performed a beautiful stylized courtship dance.<br />
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Then the bride's mother chased the groom away with a broom! After that, the priest called the wedding party to enter the sacred space. Those shiny circles on his headdress and pectoral are abalone shells with the mother of pearl side out to reflect light.<br />
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Instead of asking "Do you take this woman/man to be your wedded wife/husband?" a Tahitian priest asks "Will you ever leave your husband/wife?" And the newly weds answer, "No." After the vows, the couple is wrapped in a single colorful blanket to symbolize that they two are now one.<br />
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As they went through the ceremony, all the married observers were invited to renew their vows. So the DH and I promised each other a happy, tearful "no" along with the newlyweds. Since we're celebrating our upcoming 40th anniversary, it was a precious moment indeed.<br />
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More pics from the wedding...<br />
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<br />Lexi Eddingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07902276093123141423noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7415455272717388807.post-76368341654512628622016-04-08T14:47:00.000-07:002017-03-25T07:27:28.989-07:00So I Married a Tonganese Warrior...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Yesterday, we visited the Polynesian Cultural Center on Oahu. It's a fascinating place laid out in half a dozen little villages, each representing a different island people. Sponsored by the LDS church, most of the kids who work there are students at the Hawaii campus of BYU. They were all unfailingly polite and the dancers were incredibly talented.<br />
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But dance wasn't the only skill on display. In the Samoan village, we watched a young man shinny up a coconut tree as easily as if it had a ladder attached. I have no idea how he did it.<br />
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And barefoot, no less!<br />
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We were treated to fire making demonstrations, basket weaving with banana leaves and island games.<br />
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By mid-afternoon, we'd been walking a long way. One of the guys in our group was wearing a Fit-Bit, and it pegged out at 10,000 steps. So we took a break and watched a flotilla of costumed performers on double hull canoes. The dance steps looked tricky enough on dry land, but to dance well on a bobbing raft took some real skill. <br />
The dancers on the Fiji boat were so energetic, the craft started rocking out of control. The kid manning the rudder lost his balance and fell into the lagoon!<br />
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But the best part of the day was when my DH was called up to drum for the presentation in the Tonga village. Of course, he was fitted for a grass skirt, but I discovered that he had the camera in his pocket so I couldn't get a picture, doggone it! Anyway, I snapped a pic of him and the fellow running the show afterward. As you can see, he's got the banana leaf crown to prove it happened.<br />
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First, the Tonga warrior leaped to center stage, waved his arms and loosed a growling string of words that went something like "OodaBloggaMowmowRhutabega." (At least that's what it sounded like to me.) Then he pointed to my DH and told him to do the same.<br />
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Being a good sport, my DH leapt to center stage, waved his arms wildly and shouted "What He Said!"<br />
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The crowd ate it up with a spoon.<br />
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Then it was time for a drum duel. I think my DH surprised the warrior because he kept up with him pretty well. Guess it pays to be a percussionist in college! But finally the rhythms got too wild for him to follow, so my DH slowed down to a steady boom-boom-cha, boom-boom cha, leaned into the microphone and sang, "We will, we will ROCK YOU!"<br />
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He totally stole the show! And he already has my heart, so it was great day to be him. In case you can't tell, we are having a blast!<br />
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More to come, m'dears...<br />
_________________<br />
A few more pics from the Polynesian Cultural Center<br />
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<br />Lexi Eddingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07902276093123141423noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7415455272717388807.post-28738976235395155252016-04-06T14:51:00.000-07:002017-03-25T07:20:47.382-07:00A Taste of Hawaii<div class="MsoNormal">
As you probably know, trying out new foods is a big part of
the cruising experience. I always like to choose things I wouldn’t make at
home. So far, I’ve had escargot, rack of lamb with mint jelly and calamari
fritti. And part of the fun is in the
presentation of the food.</div>
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Here are the beef medallions my DH had for an appetizer one
night. I swear the meat was sliced thin enough to read a newspaper through, but
he says it was seasoned so well, he didn’t mind that there wasn’t much of it. After
all, an appetizer isn’t supposed to fill you up.</div>
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According to Kainoa, our native island guide, food has
always been important to the Hawaiian people. When the first immigrants from
the Marchesas wandered north in their gigantic double hulled canoes, some of
the most important things they brought with them was food—poi, yams,
breadfruit, and their favorite meats, chickens, pigs and (I’m sorry to have to
tell you) dogs. </div>
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I’m mildly adventurous in the dining room, but I won’t be
trying anything remotely canine.</div>
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One of the activities aboard ship is cooking classes at the
Culinary Arts Center. Today we watched one of the chefs prepare SWEET &
SPICY SEARED PORK CHOPS WITH ISLAND SLAW.</div>
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Here’s the recipe. Brace your feet. There’s a ton of
ingredients, but it’s so worth the effort. I plan to give it a whirl myself
when I get home.</div>
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<b>Ingredients for
Island Slaw (serves 4)<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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½ cup cider vinegar</div>
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2 TBS honey</div>
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3 TBS soy sauce</div>
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½ cup vegetable oil</div>
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¼ cup sesame oil</div>
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1 TBS crushed red pepper</div>
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2 TBS ground cumin</div>
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¼ cup chopped cilantro leaves</div>
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¼ cup scallions, finely diced</div>
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1 jalapeno, seeded and finely
diced</div>
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Salt & pepper to taste</div>
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1 cup julienne carrot (about one large carrot)</div>
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5 cups thinly sliced red & green cabbage</div>
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1 cup julienne red bell pepper (about one pepper)</div>
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2 cups diced pineapple</div>
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¾ cup toasted, chopped macadamian nuts</div>
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Whisk together the vinegar, honey, and soy sauce. Drizzle in the oils
in a steady stream, whisking to emulsify. Whisk in the crushed red pepper,
cumin, cilantro, scallion, and jalapeno. Season to taste with salt and pepper.
In a large bowl, combine carrot, cabbage, red pepper, pineapple and nuts and
mix well. Add the dressing to the vegetables and mix well again. </div>
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Place some slaw on a plate. Top with chops and drizzle with a bit of
the reduced marinade.</div>
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<b>For the chops marinade<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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½ cup hoisin sauce</div>
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¼ cup soy sauce</div>
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2 TBS sesame oil</div>
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2 TBS rice vinegar (can substitute cider vinegar)</div>
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1 TBS minced garlic</div>
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1 TBS minced ginger </div>
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½ Teaspoon red pepper flakes</div>
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2 (1/2 inch thick) pork chops</div>
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¼ cup honey</div>
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Vegetable oil</div>
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<br /></div>
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Preheat the oven to 350 degrees</div>
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In a large bowl, combine the hoisin, soy sauce, sesame oil, rice
vinegar, garlic, ginger and red pepper flakes. Add the pork chops and turn to
coat. Remove the chops from the marinade.</div>
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Save the marinade and combine with honey in a medium sauce pan. Bring
the honey marinade mixture to a boil, then lower heat and simmer for 10
minutes.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Heat an oven-proof skillet over high heat, coat bottom of skillet with
vegetable oil and sear the chops until golden brown on both sides, about 4 minutes
per side. Pour the reduced marinade over the chops and bake for 10 minutes.</div>
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Remove the chops from the oven and set aside a few minutes to rest.
After plating the chops, drizzle with a little of the marinade.</div>
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Sounds good, right? </div>
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Yeah, but it also sounds like more time on the treadmill to me. Fortunately while we're on board, I get a mile on the machines in the gym. And another couple of miles just walking from our cabin to the dining room twice a day. That ought to count for something.</div>
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Anyway, that's my story and I'm sticking with it!</div>
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<i>Note: On Thursday, we make landfall in Honolulu. The DH and I will be at the Polynesian Cultural Center pretty much all day, so I probably won't post again till Friday. See you then!</i></div>
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Lexi Eddingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07902276093123141423noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7415455272717388807.post-21524134443861124162016-04-05T14:54:00.000-07:002016-12-01T14:57:04.072-08:00My Life as a Regency Lady on the High Seas...<div class="MsoNormal">
When I used to write Regency set romances as <a href="http://www.miamarlowe.com/">Mia Marlowe</a>, I was amazed at how often
ladies of that era changed their clothes during a normal day.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikfQe1ggqCBeGpLCHPxGg5TASH06JIxzuQcsltfAsYj5z6ewh1YN8QkRQAoKe6iSbkCD46wPmPWCZLR8Hs77afbRwzuGyQNl4LwvL2s-CaHGnAxqTZqugPbN_c8SQrn0vlxvzTAT1-EUU/s1600/RegencyGirl.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikfQe1ggqCBeGpLCHPxGg5TASH06JIxzuQcsltfAsYj5z6ewh1YN8QkRQAoKe6iSbkCD46wPmPWCZLR8Hs77afbRwzuGyQNl4LwvL2s-CaHGnAxqTZqugPbN_c8SQrn0vlxvzTAT1-EUU/s200/RegencyGirl.png" width="143" /></a></div>
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They’d rise and take their breakfast <i>en dishabille</i>, an outfit suitable for only family or receiving very
close friends. Then if they wished to take some exercise, a lady would don her
riding habit and head for the stables. After that, it was time for a morning
dress, though it might well be afternoon before she slipped into it. This was
the ensemble for paying calls or remaining at home to receive callers. Later, a
dressing gong would sound, reminding the regency lady that she had only an hour
to change into her evening finery for dinner. </div>
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I’m sort of feeling like that now on our cruise.<br />
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I start out by changing from my jammies to my colorful mumu so
I don’t embarrass the server who delivers our in-cabin breakfast. Some days we
go down to the dining room for more choices and to visit with our fellow
travelers, but having breakfast in the room is very relaxing and takes less
time. </div>
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After the meal, I’m ready for some exercise, so it’s time to switch
into my jogging pants and tunic and head for the gym. There is a long bank of
elipticals and weight machines, but I try to snag a treadmill that looks out
over the bow of the ship. The rolling blue deeps stretch on forever as I pound
out my daily mile.<br />
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And I do mean deep. The ocean bottoms out at over 14000 ft right now! </div>
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After a shower, I put on one of my “resort casual” outfits—capris, a comfy top, sandals and sun
visor. This blue & gray number is appropriate for lunching in the main
dining room, going to an art auction, or learning to dance the hula!</div>
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<o:p>Yes, that's right. I'm learning a few steps of the hula and let me tell you, it is much more difficult than it looks. My hands go one way while my feet go another and all the while my hips have to look like they have someplace to go too. </o:p></div>
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Sometime in the afternoon, I’ll
don my swim suit and cover up so the DH and I can go to the Thermal Suite.
There’s a huge hot tub filled with mineral water and submerged lounges. Then
after we prune up in there for a while, we move to the heated stone beds for a
nap.</div>
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I know it sounds really weird to
think about sleeping on stone, but trust me, it’s heaven!</div>
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Then finally, like the Regency
lady who obeys the dressing gong, we get all<v:shape alt="100_1994Gala Wear.JPG" id="Picture_x0020_10" o:spid="_x0000_s1026" style="height: 117.15pt; margin-left: 305.6pt; margin-top: -.2pt; mso-position-horizontal-relative: text; mso-position-horizontal: absolute; mso-position-vertical-relative: text; mso-position-vertical: absolute; mso-wrap-distance-bottom: 0; mso-wrap-distance-left: 9pt; mso-wrap-distance-right: 9pt; mso-wrap-distance-top: 0; mso-wrap-style: square; position: absolute; visibility: visible; width: 156.45pt; z-index: -1;" type="#_x0000_t75" wrapcoords="-207 0 -207 21296 21538 21296 21538 0 -207 0">
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</w:wrap></v:imagedata></v:shape> spiffed up for supper too. Not every night is a formal night on
board. In fact, Holland America calls them “Gala Nights” now so no one feels
obligated to rent a tux. I’ll be wearing this long purple gown with a
diaphanous throw over it. The necklace is handmade of Hawaiian kukui nuts. The
DH is sporting a lavender shirt (coordinated with my outfit so it looks like
I’ve marked my territory!) and suit pants with matching vest. No jacket. He’s
on vacation! </div>
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So that’s a peek into my fashion
day on board the <i>Westerdam</i>. I’ve
never changed clothes so often in my life, but with the diverse activities
available, it sort of makes sense. Now I just have to hope I’ve packed enough
different outfits (mixing & matching, of course!) to get me through the
next 27 days! </div>
Lexi Eddingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07902276093123141423noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7415455272717388807.post-39158618144988197182016-04-01T14:59:00.000-07:002017-03-25T07:29:13.439-07:00Arrived Alive in San Diego<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid00J8Q9xXMlDYD42IzXOm6zP5Nh7tZLiHTfod1NGA8NX0lDwCTvBPEixhRyw4ksRwgf0dxhcFuy1AGG1yS9ETbat-AGRzvolXcAIUTKIXxgnEHvLm8kOoMxBJ7LLDMFPq5EkB052_erY/s1600/2016-04-01+08.24.42CAAqueduct.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid00J8Q9xXMlDYD42IzXOm6zP5Nh7tZLiHTfod1NGA8NX0lDwCTvBPEixhRyw4ksRwgf0dxhcFuy1AGG1yS9ETbat-AGRzvolXcAIUTKIXxgnEHvLm8kOoMxBJ7LLDMFPq5EkB052_erY/s320/2016-04-01+08.24.42CAAqueduct.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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After a leisurely breakfast in Yuma, we headed west on I-8, an interstate that skirts the Mexican border. Here the desert turns serious, mounding up with sand dunes and very little vegetation anywhere. <br />
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But there is a system of aqueducts to bring water through the desert from the distant mountains and deliver it to the thirsty cities on the west coast.<br />
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The route sank downward until we were actually below sea level. I know this is nothing unusual for my friends in the Netherlands, but for a Midwestern girl, it's not something that happens every day.<br />
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At least not without a wet suit.<br />
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Then we saw a sign which advised us to turn off our air conditioning so our vehicle wouldn't overheat.<br />
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They weren't kidding.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOq9ANjKU_oJvmdJnFEf2trZEiVNrMw_vuZSHy4xemJ20nsqtjd928lHix_fRVggIOC4eR1o_n75L6nNjp1s86K1MhkR0iGcwV25T6UrxzL1VBSd4icKzwcwVVaVxUbPlVoSxaYFoIAvs/s1600/2016-04-01+09.54.22CAGorignack.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOq9ANjKU_oJvmdJnFEf2trZEiVNrMw_vuZSHy4xemJ20nsqtjd928lHix_fRVggIOC4eR1o_n75L6nNjp1s86K1MhkR0iGcwV25T6UrxzL1VBSd4icKzwcwVVaVxUbPlVoSxaYFoIAvs/s320/2016-04-01+09.54.22CAGorignack.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
The highway started a steep climb into the Vallecinto Mountains. We went from about -53 to over 4100 ft in elevation in no time flat. The mountains are weirdly beautiful, with huge smooth boulders strewn everywhere.<br />
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I sort of expected "Gorignak" to pop out from one of the piles of smooth rocks. (For those of you who don't get that <i>Galaxy Quest</i> reference, go rent the movie and spend a hilarious time with someone you love!) <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZJgVOoOCZkxzuNlQhbJZexdV3sF7yt6rBwZDGL1n7UbIAz9RdtYtyljZ3e_7WHUNOfwgBvO6Gy9WmARJC0WahtJB20rxPYzWrcIcqnH5WHnYvALnacYSc0NY5H0CHUPEgmGcZ7LGEcOk/s1600/IMG_20160401_174710TheStarOfIndia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZJgVOoOCZkxzuNlQhbJZexdV3sF7yt6rBwZDGL1n7UbIAz9RdtYtyljZ3e_7WHUNOfwgBvO6Gy9WmARJC0WahtJB20rxPYzWrcIcqnH5WHnYvALnacYSc0NY5H0CHUPEgmGcZ7LGEcOk/s320/IMG_20160401_174710TheStarOfIndia.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
My DH did a wonderful job driving into the heavy traffic in San Diego. We checked into our hotel down on the waterfront and parked our van in the long term lot. Then we decided to stretch our legs and walk down to Anthony's for supper. I had a light salad with avocados, shrimp, & crab meat. There's nothing like fresh seafood when you're looking out over a lovely bay.<br />
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And today, we'll embark on the Holland America Westerdam around lunch time to start our voyage. My DH and I plan to pinch each other once we feel the deck swaying beneath our feet.<br />
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<i><b>Oh! This last bit of info about our trip is for my Dad who likes to keep track of this sort of thing. The highest price we paid for gas was in Ocotillo, CA on I-8. $3.89 a gallon for regular. I know. Yikes, right?</b></i><br />
<i><b>_______________</b></i><br />
And now, a few more pics from our last day of driving and arriving...<br />
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Solar array in AZ (What a perfect place for it!)</div>
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Sandy CA desert</div>
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Entrance to Devil's Canyon</div>
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Rocky and barren</div>
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If you squint, you can see a tiny patch of blue ahead--the San Diego harbor!</div>
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Fountain on the Waterfront</div>
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Art Deco government building across from our hotel</div>
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<br />Lexi Eddingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07902276093123141423noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7415455272717388807.post-90539268719110316472016-04-01T14:13:00.000-07:002016-12-01T14:15:00.706-08:00How To Read A MapWell, sometimes plans change. We didn't fly to San Diego. We decided to drive instead.<br />
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In many ways, driving is easier than flying if you're using supplemental O2. Herkimer (my Portable Oxygen Concentrator) can be plugged in and I don't have to worry about changing batteries. Plus I don't need him when I'm driving or riding in the van if I'm not at a higher elevation than about 3000 ft.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF4VawfGFbcAp0FR_Y6kseWu6tjjzd_Y5sr_yfOS5sTJJR8jRRnUAKFvt0B5YKJ5EYzUGaf0-LoyaJrzzEqDOTiqxkNbdsuyTryHQD3ENIGNLKGwmx3ReE7Vzq6rAmeU2W-PuxKl4PnK-7/s1600/IMG_20160331_142625Mt.Humphreys.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF4VawfGFbcAp0FR_Y6kseWu6tjjzd_Y5sr_yfOS5sTJJR8jRRnUAKFvt0B5YKJ5EYzUGaf0-LoyaJrzzEqDOTiqxkNbdsuyTryHQD3ENIGNLKGwmx3ReE7Vzq6rAmeU2W-PuxKl4PnK-7/s320/IMG_20160331_142625Mt.Humphreys.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
What I didn't consider is that from Amarillo, Texas to Flagstaff, AZ the route is almost a constant climb, with much of the way above a mile high. Flagstaff itself tops out at over 7000 ft. Even at that elevation, if I use Herkimer, I can maintain a healthy O2 sat while seated, but any sort of activity reduces me to a slug-like state.<br />
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This makes me a little sad. I used to be a mountain person. I've lived in Colorado, Wyoming and Utah. Our house in Park City was at 7200 ft and I used to be able to hike in our neighborhood without huffing like an old horse.<br />
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But it was lovely to see some snow peaks again, even if I can't be active in them.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeg3hKzpuCrSycu4jMoVUQzlnSqVlACNnMVwEUlj_a39jv1pJa2nkNvV-FqFcSXaTzC3_4KknjWbKdtHIlrZs0IfJLVMV29O2-0_JXpciSGKa6BUji-bHMtu0QBEHNDeFTSUqG4Qo72xIl/s1600/2016-04-01+08.56.41BelowSea+Level.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeg3hKzpuCrSycu4jMoVUQzlnSqVlACNnMVwEUlj_a39jv1pJa2nkNvV-FqFcSXaTzC3_4KknjWbKdtHIlrZs0IfJLVMV29O2-0_JXpciSGKa6BUji-bHMtu0QBEHNDeFTSUqG4Qo72xIl/s320/2016-04-01+08.56.41BelowSea+Level.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Fortunately, it was all downhill from Flagstaff. In fact, once we crossed over from Yuma to California, we actually dipped below sea level! The lowest the route dipped was -53. I actually felt like I was getting an oxygen rush!<br />
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Then I-8 starts a rapid ascent to over 4100 ft through the Vallecito Mountains. What an O2 roller coaster!<br />
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I did ok and we arrived alive in San Diego. We were careful to overnight in places that were low enough for Morpheus (my bi-pap) to keep me humming through the night. But from now on, when I plot out a route, I'll be sure to check for the little numbers on the map that indicate elevation.<br />
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Those are even more important for me than distance from Point A to B.Lexi Eddingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07902276093123141423noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7415455272717388807.post-67641542052070305092016-03-31T15:03:00.000-07:002017-03-25T06:56:19.810-07:00Tales from the RoadWe had an uneventful first day on the road on Wednesday. Unless, of course, you count hydroplaning through driving rain and dodging a tornado warning through Tulsa. We managed to slip by before a tornado ripped the roof off a gun club, thank heaven. Amarillo, Texas was our stopping place for the night. 653 miles traveled.<br />
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We felt every one of them.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3NFFKdK2BtCKw_PJEA17wAyEmZ1p-RnRE8Tk2kzJYdaTcSWg5F52eETxs4nN7yP3Gz8iM3oFQTIFN3DpBIPsYk9y-ympBwCJHRFk0SJz4y9Zfvb5uruhCsXxoaMsLP0pX8kqaHJT8hQE/s1600/2016-03-31+06.29.52AmarilloSunrise.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3NFFKdK2BtCKw_PJEA17wAyEmZ1p-RnRE8Tk2kzJYdaTcSWg5F52eETxs4nN7yP3Gz8iM3oFQTIFN3DpBIPsYk9y-ympBwCJHRFk0SJz4y9Zfvb5uruhCsXxoaMsLP0pX8kqaHJT8hQE/s200/2016-03-31+06.29.52AmarilloSunrise.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Amarillo Sunrise</td></tr>
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Then after a restful night, we headed into New Mexico at about 6:30 in the morning, hoping to make it to Phoenix for a 700 mile day. Since Amarillo's elevation is about 3600 ft, the dawn greeted us with a brisk 28 degrees. (If you want to know more about why the elevation matters to me, check out my <a href="http://findingmysecondwind.blogspot.com/2016/04/how-to-read-map.html"><b>Second Wind</b></a> blog!)<br />
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I'd sort of forgotten that the Southwest is high desert, which means cold at night, hot by day. (Note to self: Pack a light jacket next time!)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXCUrZ2Gg2gXKFKizDOFdWZKF92oeNbhzK-Rfv6cJ4TecxzjFwAZrLYxpP1Ej5E0wXFNSi2f888rYzCx5EoTld_12Z6TYD3wStWaRg8PtwusyHBrL-bdjquD3-0TBcWXbXVUflXU2r8GY/s1600/2016-03-31+09.58.21+BestDriverEver.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXCUrZ2Gg2gXKFKizDOFdWZKF92oeNbhzK-Rfv6cJ4TecxzjFwAZrLYxpP1Ej5E0wXFNSi2f888rYzCx5EoTld_12Z6TYD3wStWaRg8PtwusyHBrL-bdjquD3-0TBcWXbXVUflXU2r8GY/s200/2016-03-31+09.58.21+BestDriverEver.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My DH</td></tr>
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I haven't traveled along the western I-40 corridor since I was a kid. Back then it was with my family--my parents, 2 of my sisters (my baby sister wasn't with us yet) and my grandparents--all piled into a station wagon pulling a camper. My dad always said we had 4-60 air conditioning, which meant we rolled down all the windows and went 60 miles an hour. <br />
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Our van is much more comfortable and I have the best chauffeur in the world!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4rlFforbBAa3pRcoXb_ydATVfAVw0E9Yawfd-Y3HVCqAuWSnCFiKlqLJV1jeiJ4EWHjrxsho5Vo6ErJk0tON_QDsBzrCUjKHesmU-6fwIIxR7k9TWFllLB85cLy-9F55i2m5N9IIW8QE/s1600/IMG_20160331_113258NMArmadillow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4rlFforbBAa3pRcoXb_ydATVfAVw0E9Yawfd-Y3HVCqAuWSnCFiKlqLJV1jeiJ4EWHjrxsho5Vo6ErJk0tON_QDsBzrCUjKHesmU-6fwIIxR7k9TWFllLB85cLy-9F55i2m5N9IIW8QE/s320/IMG_20160331_113258NMArmadillow.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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New Mexico is much more picturesque than I remembered. Rocks break through the surface of the earth like an ancient dragon spine. Check out this unique formation.<br />
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Is it just me, or don't those reddish stones sort of look like a giant armadillo?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiIVELwIXQbD501t82l7j3DoMk1dUmoQgwz1j6xCongo4JA_a3jvs8ihIFE4VHJ882u6rZM89ckXKnuc-NnS06z-42htgpcXE9L9cXXinJ7RazKgh270vLr-mhWcq_Et_8Retq9pi5BKo/s1600/2016-03-31+10.11.21NMSphinx.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiIVELwIXQbD501t82l7j3DoMk1dUmoQgwz1j6xCongo4JA_a3jvs8ihIFE4VHJ882u6rZM89ckXKnuc-NnS06z-42htgpcXE9L9cXXinJ7RazKgh270vLr-mhWcq_Et_8Retq9pi5BKo/s320/2016-03-31+10.11.21NMSphinx.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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And how about this roadside sphinx?<br />
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I'd love to know how these things were formed, wouldn't you? (Take that Sheldon Cooper. Geology is too a real science!)<br />
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The road was climbing most of the day, heading toward Flagstaff, Arizona, which tops out at over 7000 ft. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirB4Vdu14v_l_OiH3IGJFli789KAFp5xZ2Aomo3X4drCc5SDiW3TkVesuny5IPy2aBJYANqx4tIOxYnzhWgyDRmL_vuS5tj_-TUTh5CPbFeoA_gUh1raBuokswCw6vrjmvlzbAkJ63HPQ/s1600/IMG_20160331_142625Mt.Humphreys.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirB4Vdu14v_l_OiH3IGJFli789KAFp5xZ2Aomo3X4drCc5SDiW3TkVesuny5IPy2aBJYANqx4tIOxYnzhWgyDRmL_vuS5tj_-TUTh5CPbFeoA_gUh1raBuokswCw6vrjmvlzbAkJ63HPQ/s320/IMG_20160331_142625Mt.Humphreys.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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I'm not sure when we first became aware of Mt. Humphrey (over 12000 ft.) looming ahead of us, because at first the snow-capped peak blended in with the gathering clouds, but we could see it for miles. When we finally reached Flagstaff, it was towering above us.<br />
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I was totally surprised by the number of trees in Arizona. Guess I always thought of it as a desert state. Then we dropped down out of the high country as we headed toward Phoenix. The landscape changed for a brief time to what I like to call <i>Sound of Music</i> mountains, with green meadows ringed by peaks. But that didn't last long as we dropped in elevation and entered the Sonoran Desert.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgsHpZ91DvOxRr8AWQv8jmEkcXa-WS0NWymqtwGi9H6iAtUTZgVWLn2LI1l-7gMMf5Ox0cZrSaPe3Q_RRS36_8An1YUSb-KTyenlDMtuCmuMo7B5lrDe9RlGZ-g0O-beRCuw9UoxAOFlo/s1600/IMG_20160331_160911Count+the+Sequaros.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgsHpZ91DvOxRr8AWQv8jmEkcXa-WS0NWymqtwGi9H6iAtUTZgVWLn2LI1l-7gMMf5Ox0cZrSaPe3Q_RRS36_8An1YUSb-KTyenlDMtuCmuMo7B5lrDe9RlGZ-g0O-beRCuw9UoxAOFlo/s320/IMG_20160331_160911Count+the+Sequaros.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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As deserts go, it's a lively one. Lots of vegetation compared to say, the Sahara. Saguaro cacti seem plentiful, but they are a protected native plant. Destroying one can result in a hefty fine. Stealing one from public land is a Class 4 felony!<br />
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At around 4 pm, we breathed a sigh of relief as we came into Phoenix, even though the city was bustling with more traffic than we'd seen since we moved from Boston two years ago. Unlike our first night, we didn't have a hotel reservation, since we weren't sure we'd make it all the way to Phoenix, even though we gained two hours and were now on Pacific Time.<br />
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So we started stopping at likely hotels.<br />
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No vacancy. We left I-17 and turned our faces west to LA on I-10. Still no rooms at the inns.<br />
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As it turned out, there was a trifecta of an air show, the last day of spring training for baseball and a Nascar event in town. We couldn't rent a pup tent in Phoenix.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHemtt5KRt5ZO8WMPAtjFcgoB_is6wKwLwnaFJeEV7qON6DlI5JAo2Wx0WekQoMjZUw39BDHENELpqLnk6pxTzVv3MtA-3nqI7QJsq12t7YAqhgLynmh4xp291cqiyXBykm1c1N6Qs7E8/s1600/IMG_20160331_200009YumaSunset.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHemtt5KRt5ZO8WMPAtjFcgoB_is6wKwLwnaFJeEV7qON6DlI5JAo2Wx0WekQoMjZUw39BDHENELpqLnk6pxTzVv3MtA-3nqI7QJsq12t7YAqhgLynmh4xp291cqiyXBykm1c1N6Qs7E8/s320/IMG_20160331_200009YumaSunset.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Yuma was 160 miles away. So we filled the gas tank, got a couple bottles of water a piece and headed south into the desert, looking for someplace to stay. Granted, the seats in the van do recline, but I so didn't want to try them out. <br />
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The sun was setting as we pulled into that little place in the southwest corner of the state. Fortunately, the first hotel we tried had ONE ROOM LEFT!<br />
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(Note to self: Always have a reservation, no matter whether you think you'll make it there or not!)<br />
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And now, few more pictures from the road...<br />
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<br />Lexi Eddingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07902276093123141423noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7415455272717388807.post-11752761383452467212016-03-25T14:18:00.000-07:002016-12-02T06:51:49.869-08:00Travels with Herkimer<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>*Herkimer is my pet name for my POC (Portable Oxygen Concentrator)</i></div>
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Ok. The countdown has begun. In less than a week, my DH and I will embark on the voyage of our lives! We're flying to San Diego where we'll board Holland America's Westerdam for a 30 day cruise to Hawaii and the islands of the South Pacific.<br />
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I'm still pinching myself. </div>
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We've always been enthusiastic travelers. Our kids had passports from the time they were 8 and 6 years old. Since my husband was a travel industry IT guy, we managed to make lots of trips we couldn't have otherwise afforded using flight benefits and tag-along business trips. But now the kids are grown and my hubby is retired. Our adventures can be just about us now.</div>
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Well, us and all the medical equipment I have to lug around in order to function.</div>
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Cruise ships and airlines make every effort to accommodate guests with special needs, but they require advance notice. Months ago, I had to submit my request to carry Herkimer on. Oxygen tanks are not allowed on airplanes, but my POC is FAA approved and I can use it during our flights. This is a good thing since a pressurized cabin is like being at 8000 ft above sea level. At that elevation, I seriously need an extra puff of O2 to maintain good sats. When I arrive at the airport, I'll need to produce my prescription for the device, evidence that I'm carrying 1 1/2 times more battery life than I'll need to complete my travel and permission from Oxygen To Go (the agency that vets FAA approved devices) in order to board.</div>
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The upside is that I'll probably be shuffled into a wheel chair and my DH and I will hop to the front of the security line. </div>
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Last year, Herkimer died on me without warning and I went without supplemental O2 for a couple of days while waiting for his replacement. Not fun, but at least I was at home when it happened. I crept about the house with all the vim and vigor of a 3 toed sloth. I didn't want to find myself bobbing around in the Pacific in that condition, so we splurged and bought a back up unit. I'll be traveling with 2 Herkimers--one in his rolling cart and one in my carry-on bag. </div>
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Also in the bag, which measures the required 20X14X9 inches, I've packed my bi-pap machine (whom I lovingly call Morpheus!) which gets me through the night, all its tubing and plugs, extra batteries, charger and electric cables, extra cannulas, my prescription meds (for 30 days, let me tell you that's a prodigious amount of pills!), a pair of jammies, 2 changes of undies, and socks. My toothbrush, make-up and other toiletries will have to travel in my DH's carry on. </div>
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I used to say there were two classes of travel: First Class and With Children. Now I'll add a third: With Medical Equipment</div>
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But it's all good. Once we unpack on the ship, it'll be like being at home. Holland America has already promised to have distilled water waiting for me in our cabin to use in Morpheus. Only getting to the pier from the Midwest with all our stuff in tow will be a challenge.<br />
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These devices, which some might think would weigh me down, actually give me freedom. I'm so thankful to be living now when my lung condition can be stabilized with drugs, when, between Herkimer and Morpheus, I have high enough O2 sats to feel like having a few adventures.<br />
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And I'm beyond grateful to celebrate 40 years of marriage with my Dear Husband on this exciting trip.<br />
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If you'd like to armchair travel with me, please visit <a href="http://www.leddings.blogspot.com/"><b><i>The Coldwater Gazette</i></b></a>, my author blog, and sign up to follow it by email. You'll find the form for you to type in your email in the right-hand column under my picture. I'll be posting photos, sharing our experiences, and wishing you were here.<br />
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Hope to see you there! </div>
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Lexi Eddingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07902276093123141423noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7415455272717388807.post-34457388250722036332016-03-20T15:05:00.000-07:002016-12-01T15:05:35.853-08:00A Tiny House MomentIn 13 days, the DH and I will embark on the voyage of our lives!<br />
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Yep, we'll board the Holland America <i>Westerdam</i> in San Diego, bound for Hawaii, Tahiti and a host of other stunning islands before turning back to the US. The <i>Westerdam</i> is a medium sized ship, hosting under 2000 passengers with a crew of about half that number. It's not quite the floating sideways sky scraper some of the really big ships are. For example, Royal Caribbean's <i>Allure of the Seas</i> can accommodate over 6300 passengers (and probably 3000 crew.)<br />
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There's no rock climbing wall on the Westerdam. No water slide. No miniature golf. No ice rink. (No joke. Just in case bobbing around in the ocean doesn't make you unsteady enough, some lines let you strap blades to the bottom of your feet!)<br />
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We lovingly refer to Holland America as the "old fart" line. Mostly because we'll be among the younger cruisers aboard. But we've traveled with Holland for a number of shorter vacations and really enjoy the laid-back atmosphere. It's quiet. The music is more my speed. We'll be more likely to hear a string quartet in a lounge than rap.<br />
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But as I was doing some packing the other day, the DH and I were both in our small laundry room running into each other while we sorted things out in the cramped space. And it occurred to me that not only will we be cruising to exotic locales for 30 days, we'll also be sharing a 212 square foot cabin.<br />
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For 30 days.<br />
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I've often marveled at the folks on HGTV who chuck their sprawling houses for teeny tiny living spaces. I wonder how they manage to store their clothes and stuff and keep from tripping over each other.<br />
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I suspect I'll find out.<br />
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Of course, on the ship we'll have a steward to help us keep things tidy. And there's no space wasted on a kitchen in the cabin. All in all, I doubt I'll feel too claustrophobic since we have the whole ship as our backyard.<br />
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And that's sort of the point of a tiny house, isn't it? The folks who live in them want to spend more time out of the house having adventures. Well, that's the plan...<br />
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I'll keep you posted and share some pictures from our trip all the along the way! Lexi Eddingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07902276093123141423noreply@blogger.com0