The continuing saga…

5th May 2007

Me again,

So there I was, getting off the ship for the first time and heading into exciting Nassau. Or at least I was assuming that it was going to be exciting, having no real idea and not having had any time to prepare or figure out what was going on. I didn’t even have time to grab my camera before we bustled down to the gangway, hence the lack of photos to accompany this. It turned out that only one of us had even been into this port before so it was a bit of an experience for all of us.

The dock that the ship was moored at was really nothing more than a concrete pier. It certainly didn’t have any of the fancy gangways like airport air bridges that you see in the movies and the crew and passengers were both using the same exit through deck 3, coincidentally the same deck my cabin is on. Looking back at the ship with no buildings around and just the sheer bulk of it sitting unmoving made me realize how huge it really was. It’s easy to watch a jumbo coming in to land and stare in wonder at how it manages to stay in the air but to look back at the Fascination made me wonder equally as much how something that size manages to stay afloat without simply toppling over and especially to wonder at the forces involved in driving it through the water.

The port consisted of a number of these concrete piers and there was already a couple of other cruise ships docked and disgorging passengers. The water in the harbour was clean and when I say clean I mean that right next to the ship it was possible to look down and see tropical fish swimming. From the ship we walked along the pier, past a couple of disinterested looking local security people who had obviously seen, who knows how many, hundred Americans walking past already and took little notice of us. From then on it was just a matter of running the gauntlet of locals who had stalls set up in a long shed that you had no choice but to walk through to get into the town proper. The tackiness was almost overwhelming and I just managed to resist the urge to buy some cheap souvenir, despite having an almost overwhelming need for a variety of things made out of coconuts.

Walking out of this welcoming barrage of commercialism the next gauntlet was the taxi drivers. Unbeknownst to me the plan was to go to the big resort/casino and find the beach. I don’t know if you’ve ever come across this resort but it has featured in a few movies and there have even been documentaries about it on the Discovery Channel just because of its sheer size. A quick negotiation with a taxi driver and we were off at the princely sum of $2 each. That initial view of Nassau was one of expensive looking jewellery stores, restaurants claiming to serve local food and the type of store that sells those tacky t-shirts you buy when you’re on holiday and may actually wear in groups of other people wearing the same ones while you’re there but would never dream of wearing once you got home. The real island of Nassau, the part where the locals live, shop and spend their lives may be there somewhere but it certainly isn’t that first view as you get off the dock. The streets are narrow, the buildings are pale, almost pastel colours and it’s not hard to imagine the times before the cruise ships when the locals would have lived in downtown and the whole place would have been bustling in the true Caribbean sense rather than the bustle of tourists looking for cheap duty free that it is now.

A short drive through the town, through a couple of back streets where a bit of the paint and facade was beginning to peel, over a couple of bridges and we pulled up outside one of the largest resorts I have ever seen. The entire place is a pale orange colour and is dominated, when you finally look up, by two enormous towers joined near the top by a massive walkway, making it look slightly like a misshapen H. The Atlantis Resort and Casino it’s called and immediately on walking into the main entrance it’s easy to see that someone took the name very much to heart when they set about designing the place. Marble everywhere and any spare bit of floor, wall or ceiling is taken up with sculptures or decorations of some sort with an Atlantis theme. There are massive seahorses in groups of 4 rearing up out of marble ponds with water flowing and crystal statues I’m guessing are meant to represent fountains or flowing water of some type. The casino itself has the highest ceilings that I’ve seen in a casino and has the feeling of a giant cavern. It’s dark, sumptuously appointed (at least from the visitors point of view) and has an ‘under the sea theme’ that really gives the impression of being in a grotto. Even the information desk and cashiers cage are covered in a faux rock effect. Walking through the casino the first thing you find is a small atrium with another seahorse statue and a giant Neptune’s Throne, complete with official photographer to take your photo sitting in the chair. She didn’t seem to mind as most of our party (who had their cameras with them) took their own photos. I politely declined the opportunity.

Further on, past expensive looking shops selling Rolexes and other things, where I would feel intimidated even walking in, we passed into a massive open space with more undersea statues and steps leading down to a restaurant. There were a few people in the restaurant eating breakfast but at first you don’t even notice them as your eye is immediately drawn to the huge fish tank that acts as a backdrop to the seating area. If anyone has been to the shark tank at SeaWorld you’ll know what this looks like. About the only thing that it didn’t have was sharks. The masses of tropical fish and even manta rays made up for that though, the glass panels must have been about 7-8 feet high and the effect was breathtaking. It turns out that this part of the aquarium was just a small part of the overall. There was a queue for tours so we all jumped in that but got turned away because we didn’t have either a room key to show that we were staying there or a willingness to part with $105. We had to content ourselves (as were a lot of other people) with walking up and down the part of the tank that we could see.

Past the aquarium, past more decoration of a fishy nature and we came to a door leading out to the beach. No luck here either as it was only for houseguests or those doing the official (and expensive) tour. The problem was that we had spent the better part of an hour becoming thoroughly lost in this massive resort and being sent on various wild goose chases by staff members who obviously assumed that we were staying in-house and were allowed access to the beach once we got there. We eventually found ourselves sitting outside on the side of the road on the far side from where we had entered and feeling a little disheartened. “Let’s go to the cricket club”, someone said, “it does an all day English breakfast really cheap.” This was enough to perk up Jason the English guy no end so we all piled into a mini bus, negotiated the fare and set off.

Back through town and along the harbour front we eventually got to the cricket club. A big money, World Cup class stadium this was not. It had the casual ramshackle feel of a true Caribbean island cricket club in the two story club house that looked like it had been there for many years and been in need of some TLC for most of that time. The ground was badly in need of some grass and the pitch looked like it had been abandoned for want of interest. I don’t know for sure how much cricket is played there but I’ll have to give it the benefit of the doubt and say that it may have been the off season. However, sitting out on the balcony of the club house, overlooking the ground in one direction and a view of the harbour through swaying palms in the other, it was a pleasant introduction to island life and a far cry from the opulent and over the top decadence of the Atlantis Resort and Casino. This was a place for locals and the crowd gathered around the TV in the bar watching the West Indies play England in the World Cup added that much needed piece of authenticity and genuineness that I was looking for. Even the full English breakfast had the complete compliment of fried foods, baked beans and toast that made it easy to imagine all those ex-pats who have probably gathered here over the years to enjoy the very same meal while reminiscing about the old country and enjoying the balmy conditions. A plate full of food, a pint of beer and we were ready to head back to the ship. A cheap public bus ride back to the port and boarding the ship was as easy as scanning my ID at the gangway and walking on. My first visit to a foreign port had been easy, cheap and, despite not quite getting where we wanted to go, it was a fun experience.

This is where I get to explain some of the cryptic remarks I’ve made about not being able to remember people’s names and how it would become apparent why later. Remembering that I had only been on the ship for a couple of days at this point you can imagine how I felt when I got called into the manager’s office. I got sat down and told that they had a bit of bad news for me! I was being transferred to another ship. I wasn’t too sure if this was good or bad news so I just kept my mouth shut and they went on to say that as soon as the ship reached Miami I would be off, put up in a hotel for 2 nights and then joining my new ship. The company would pay for the hotel and even cover the taxi fare from the port; all I had to do was be in the lobby 2 days later to be picked up. Given that I was an extra here and had been spending all my working time just standing in the back of the cage ‘observing’ and not even able to get my hands dirty I wasn’t too upset at the thought of going somewhere that I could actually do something. The only thing that upset me was the idea of having to redo all the training I’d been waking up to do and the fact that I had just started to learn everyone’s names. As I told the people I was working with I got various reactions. Some said it was a good thing and congratulated me, some said it was a bad thing and commiserated with me. Some said that the cabins were smaller on the new ship and that the food was better, some said the exact opposite. As these things go everyone had an opinion and I decided to just ignore what they all said and to just wait and find out for myself. If I remember I’ll add this as a link but in case I don’t the name of the new ship is the Caribbean Princess. Not only was I changing ships I was changing to an entirely new cruise line under the Carnival Corp banner and an entirely new ways of doing things aboard.

I’ll leave the next few days to your imagination; suffice to say that it consisted of watching, eating, sleeping and training. I wasn’t even allowed to get off at any other ports because of the training I had to do, an idea that hadn’t bothered me at first because I assumed that I would be visiting these ports again many times but now knew that I may not have the chance to. I did get to see Key West from the deck but that’s as close as I came to trying the conch and the key lime pie on a stick dipped in chocolate. Back in Miami I joined the queue of other crew who were getting off the ship at the end of their contracts, passed through customs and immigrations and out into the wilds of Port Miami. A taxi was easy to come by because the crew were disembarked before the passengers (probably while most of them were still asleep judging by the ungodly hour we had to be ready) and by 9 am I found myself back at the good old AmeriSuites that I’d stayed at when I first arrived in the country. I had the rest of that day and the whole of the next to kill before I got picked up and not much idea of what I was going to do.

I had plenty of washing to do, not having had the time onboard to get to the crew laundry and do it, but the hotel had a washers and dryers set up in a little laundry so I knew I would be spending a bit of time in that room. The real problem was the location of the hotel. Being next to the airport made it a long way from anywhere. The taxi fare had been $45 which made a taxi ride into downtown Miami a $90 return trip. There were probably local buses but my lack of Spanish would have made finding my way on them a scary experience at best. I grabbed as many brochures as I could, sat down to the free buffet breakfast and tried to figure out what I could do. It turns out that if you don’t have a car in the US you really are a second class citizen. Every attraction was a more than fair drive from where I was and if the fare from the port was a guide then it was going to cost me about $100 just to get to anywhere. I then went over to the reception desk and asked the girl if there were any shopping malls within walking distance. Her first reaction was to hesitate as if I was going to say that I was only joking and actually wanted driving directions but when I didn’t say anything she just smiled and said that there wasn’t. She did suggest the gas station down on the corner. Being the good geek that I am I finished breakfast and headed up to my room to take advantage of the free WiFi. Free internet has to be a great gift from the Americans to all travellers. I just fired up the old laptop, got onto google and searched for shopping malls near to where I was. I found a couple, narrowed it down to the best looking one from their website, looked it up on google maps, figured out that it was only about 8kms away and drew myself a little map. I went back down to the reception desk just to check which street I should start on according to my map and which direction I should head. When I said where I was walking the girl stared at me for a second and then actually laughed. Just another crazy foreigner not smart enough to have a car, I guess. Getting my bearings I headed off.

First off, Americans drive on the wrong side of the road. Something that’s pretty obvious to most but it doesn’t really hit home until you try to cross a road under those conditions. Secondly, Americans don’t walk. Something that hits home when you walk 8kms and don’t see any other pedestrians, apart from an elderly couple who seemed as confused as me, and also fail to see a single crossing signal at any of the traffic lights. Add all this together and the walk to the mall was quite an adventure in its own right. Another thing to throw into the mix was that after having spent so long onboard I was actually walking and feeling as if the ground was swaying under me, a really disconcerting feeling. Every major intersection became an exercise in logistics. I had to stand there, figure out which way the traffic was moving and which way the danger was going to be coming from. Add to this the fact that all the roads I had to cross were an average of three lanes each way, there were no walk signals to wait for and that traffic can actually go through a red light if they are turning right (the equivalent of our turning left) provided the road is clear and you can see just what had to be factored into a simple walk. There was also so much traffic. There seems to be massive amounts of traffic anyway but I think it was compounded by the fact that it was right next to the airport and there were large numbers of very large container trucks.

It was an entertaining and enlightening walk though. I passed banks that didn’t seem to have any walk-in service, only drive-in ATM’s and tellers. I passed so many different junk food places, many with names that I recognised but so many with names that I’ve never heard of and that offered types of food that could only appeal to Americans. Petrol is about $3 a gallon, which with the aid of my handy dandy translator works out to about ! whoops, no idea, my handy dandy calculator doesn’t do that conversion. If someone could work it out and let me know I’d appreciate it.

The 8kms took a little longer than they would have otherwise, given the need for some life saving manoeuvres and fast stepping, but I eventually made it to the shopping mall. What a disappointment. For a girl it may have been a good place to go but for me the number of clothes stores was just overwhelming and filled up space that could have been better utilised with book stores and the like. And speaking of bookstores, there wasn’t one to be had in the entire place. About 100 odd shops and not one of them sold a book or even a newspaper. If you doubt the stories regarding the ignorance of Americans then the inability to buy anything to read in a major shopping centre should put those doubts to rest. I walked up and down that mall and grew more and more disappointed. There wasn’t even a grocery store in the place, although I didn’t see much in the way of residential areas as I was walking so there may not have been much need in what was essentially an industrial area. The other thing that stood out was the amount of Spanish. I bought a coke at a little donut stand (plenty of fast food available) and the conversation was entirely in Spanish on the girls side. Every sign in the mall was bilingual and the majority of the faces could have stepped out of old Mexico, with a scary number of women in tight little skirts and incredibly high heels. I bought nothing but the coke and decided to splurge on the $10 taxi fare back to the hotel. Disappointed with the mall I decided to check out the service station next and managed to find all the essential supplies for a couple of nights in a hotel room, coke, chips and chocolate. They even had hot dogs and other hot takeaway stuff but even though I’ll eat still wriggling snake there was no way I was going to touch it. I stuck with stuff in packets even if I didn’t recognise any of the brands.

Getting back to the room I got online again and started to do searches for day tours of Miami and the surrounds. Unfortunately none of the tour companies would do hotel pickups as far away as the airport and would only pick you up if you were in downtown Miami. That was the end of any idea of seeing the everglades. I did find a company that would have picked me up and taken me to Walt Disney World for the day but it was a 6 hour bus trip, 6 hours in the park and then 6 hours home. Even for a dedicated Disney fan like me that just wasn’t practical even if I am almost wetting myself by knowing that I’m so close and yet so far. I did a bit of research on staying there for about 10 days when my contract is up because I think I can apply for a special visa while I’m on the ship that will let me stay on in the country. Once you take the airfare out of the equation a couple of weeks at the Park isn’t so expensive and I would hate to be here, not see it and then decide not to do another contract. But that’s a bit further down the track and I have bigger concerns to deal with at the moment. By now it was about mid afternoon and what was I going to do with my time? Well dear reader, I devoted it to you. I spent the rest of the day and a bit of the evening typing emails, which is why you got 2 in the space of about 4 hours. A night in a bed that didn’t move, even if it still felt like it was and I woke up the next morning ready to face an exciting full day at the wonderful Amerisuites Hotel, just a stones throw from the exciting Miami International Airport.

But that story is for another email.

Greg