January 6, 2019 – My Glamorous Life

THE THOMS SUNDAY TRAVEL SECTION

SEE PAROS GREECE                 TASTE NAPLES ITALY 

Life Upon the Wicked Sea is…

What a glamorous life it must be to always be traveling. I used to hear variations on that theme just about every day when I was working on cruise ships.

There were some great perks. It was like living at Mom’s house. Someone did the cooking, the cleaning, the laundry. All I had to do was show up for meals and put the right color shirt on, on the right day.

And I was paid to travel. Those parts were great. But not glamorous.

Glamorous Travel

But there was, as there is with all jobs, some not so great parts. As the Tour Director, my face was pretty well known by the end of the first day. They had seen one of my tour talks or been by the tour desk to ask questions.

Safe back in their cabin, they made the mistake of turning to the travel channel on the ship’s in-house television system. On many ships, this was my tour talk from earlier looping and looping and…

Without even meeting them, they had a friend in the travel business. I love sharing the world with guests, but every time I left my cabin, I was “on stage.” It made for some long days.

Looking at Life Through a Rose-Tinted Fish Bowl.

Also, when I did manage to get a few hours off, I was never completely off. Sitting in a Cantina in Cozumel, or a quaint restaurant in a hilltown on the French Riviera, it was not unusual to feel a tap on my shoulder. No, not from the manager asking me to leave.

99% of the time, people were quite gracious about it. Starting with a “Sorry to bother you” and finishing with a “Thank you.” Some even sent me a glass of wine or a dessert later.

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If you Can’t Be Glamorous, Be Loud.

But not everybody. There was the gentleman who came up to me on Cozumel Island quite agitated because I told him that he could get a taxi to Cancun for about $20.

Not remembering any blackouts or temporary bouts of insanity, I then start trying to playback everything out of my mouth in the last 3 days and seeing what rhymes with Cancun. Nothing is coming up.

I ask him if it was in a talk or at the desk where I had told him this. He reminded me it was last night at the poker table.

As a crew member, I am not allowed in the casino, and certainly not at any of the game tables. Even if I was, I prefer to part with my money in other ways.

I tried to point out that I had not been in the casino the night before. He was right, I was wrong and I got a lovely little ping in the comment cards that I didn’t know anything.

Careful What You Don’t Recommend.

Then there was a lady who stopped by my table at a restaurant ashore and asked how my meal was. I said I had just finished a lovely shrimp cocktail and was now waiting for my entree. A few other pleasantries and off she went.

Imagine my surprise the next morning when the ship’s nurse called me and said a guest was insisting I pay for her visit to the ship’s clinic? Why? Because she was allergic to shellfish.

My coffee is not kicking in yet and I am not firing on all cylinders. I have no idea who this lady is. Did she just learn of this allergy? No, she has been allergic for years.

Then WHY would she eat shrimp? (You’re ahead of me on this one aren’t you?) I can still hear the nurses voice, trying not to burst out laughing, when she said. Because you recommended the shrimp cocktail at a restaurant ashore last night. I know who this lady is.

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Don’t You Work on My Ship?

There was the time, possibly the last time, I visited a clothing-optional beach. This was on a Caribbean island at a time when only one cruise ship in town was not unusual.

The ship I was working on was nicknamed “God’s waiting room” due to the advanced age of the guests.

To reach this beach, required a 30-minute taxi ride, then walking the length of two coves to reach the secluded third. I had the whole beach to myself.

I had a wonderful swim before covering myself in sun lotion. My head had not been on the ground 5 minutes before I heard, “Excuse me, are you from our ship?…”

There they were. Three of them in nice shoes, stockings and simple dresses with purses over their arm. How long they had been standing there, I don’t know. I only hope their bifocals made things look larger. Ahh, the glamorous life.

I hope my mom will be OK with the fact I did not stand up for a lady this time, but I barely had a t-shirt over me, and I was not moving.

I told them the location of the restaurant they were seeking. (where I got out of the taxi.) They thanked me before disappearing behind some rocks. To this day, I have no idea how they got there.

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We Didn’t Think you Meant It.

Then there are the numerous stories, many I have already shared. People come back to the ship with:

• broken bones and road rash from scooter wrecks,
• what is left of a purse strap after the rest of the purse was cut and grabbed in a sketchy area of town
• A fake Rolox watch that is already not working, or other things I warned about.

When I ask, didn’t you hear me warn about doing this exact thing? They answer, “Yes. But we didn’t think you really meant it.”

At least they came back. The ones who didn’t believe me when I said “Stay away from this area and do not ever buy drugs,” spent a few extra nights in those ports.

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Hi-Ho the Glamorous Life.

So, it rarely was glamorous. I did not always have a cabin with a window, a room to myself and sometimes the bathroom was down the hall. Never heard the word glamorous used to describe those.

The crew cafeteria is not glamorous. I was very lucky, the crew kitchens on the lines I worked for made a valiant attempt to feed people from 30 different countries at the same time. Try that for six-twelve months with no days off and see if glamorous comes to your mind.

But it was fun. And I was much younger and resilient.

I take showing the world to the world very seriously. I make sure the information I give is accurate, and often not sugar-coated.

And I probably take it too personally when someone asks me directions, then goes off in another direction. Or when I hear, “We didn’t think you really meant it.”

So, not a glamorous job. But a fascinating, rewarding one. I wouldn’t trade one of my experiences.

Let’s get some for you too!

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“See Paros” Continued on Page T8.       “Taste Naples” Continued on T14