Our First Night on the Ship

After we left the bay, it got cloudy and the wind and waves really picked up. I was surprised how much we could feel a large ship like that sway with the waves. We really had to hold on to rails and things to keep our balance. As I mentioned earlier, when there were particularly big swells, the elevators would make very loud clanging noises that were a bit disconcerting. The staff acted like it was completely normal, but I started to get sea sick after our second buffet dinner. We went to our staterooms, which for their size, were very nice and efficient. It felt better to lay down, but I didn't want to miss the introduction show in the elegant Princess Theatre. It went without a hitch as the singers, dancers, the comedian, Elliot Maxx, and activity directors really have their sea legs. Mr. Maxx performed with his guitar and sang a few original songs to familiar tunes like It's a Small World After All.





























Thanks kids for helping me remember the words,

When I booked this cruise on the internet,



I saw a picture of the room I'd get,
I didn't realize, it was actual size,
It's a small room after all.

After the show we went out on the 7th deck, The Promenade. It was very cold and the waves where breaking over the side onto that level. I thought the cold air might make my seasickness feel better, but it didn't. As it was too cold, we just went to bed. Our very nice steward, Stephan, who was from Romania had provided a most welcoming and lovely turn-down service. Rebecca and Rachel slept on the top bunks, which folded down from the ceiling at night, and the boys had their own room. I wish I'd gotten a picture of the other side of the room with the white topped, but oak lined dressing table, tv cabinet with fridge, and the convenient mirror shelf that I kept my room key, sunglasses, and camera on. We should have also gotten a picture of our tiny bathroom, with shower and interesting, space efficient fixtures. We stowed all our suitcases under the beds and in the large closet, while all our clothes fit in the drawers and on shelves and hangers.

The next day at sea was still pretty rough. Here's a picture of what it did to the 12th deck swimming pool.












































 

The Darkest Hour is just before Dawn - Day 6, Monday, July 30th

I was still wound a little tight as we completed the most logistical part of our trip with tagging our luggage, checking out of the hotel, dropping the kids and luggage by the pier as George, Rebecca and I returned the van and took a taxi back, being processed by security and getting our room/charge keys before boarding, and then trying to get oriented to the large cruise ship. We had just found the buffet and loaded our plates for our very late lunch when we heard the announcement to muster for the mandatory safety drill. We quickly stuffed our faces, found our rooms on Deck 5 where the life vests were, and then ran to Deck 7, the deck with the orange transport boats you see in the picture. Then after all that, we were finally able to slow down while everyone assembled on the upper decks, 11, 12 and 14, there was no 13, for the "Sail Away" party. I'm not really a loud party person, so I was wondering how much I was going to enjoy this cruise with all these snazzy, middle aged people sporting their $5 tropical drinks. We ended up settling on the more secluded part of  Deck 11 in the back of the boat for our delayed departure from the dock. I found an empty deck chair and tried to chill out while the rest of the family hung out at the rail.

The Dark Night of the Soul

It was a good thing we stopped at Dillon Beach because that was the last beach before the Cliffs of Insanity arose before us. As the night got darker, the road got steeper, narrower, and with tighter turns closer to the edge of the Cliffs. At first it was pretty fun, but after about an hour or so, I was wondering if it was ever going to end. The incline was so steep a number of times that I thought I was in one of my recurring bad dreams where I'm heading up a highway that gets steeper and steeper, higher, and narrower until I feel like I'm about to do a loop backward. I started praying Lord have mercy with every turn. I have to say I now have more respect for people in that area who are used to steep narrowness, and did I mention no guard rails? Just a view of the ocean far below, which I didn't even want to see at that point. Sometimes there would be a sassy little sports car that would shine it's high beams at our van's undercarriage to try to get past me. I sincerely wanted to let them by, but the only way on that continuous double yellow lined road was to pull over on intermittent "turnabouts" that were about the size of a postage stamp, with no guard rail, on a harrowing precipice. So ruining these people's pleasure cruises also made me more nervous. There were a couple of larger shoulder areas where I was finally able to let some of them pass. The only thing that made me feel better was that as we finally approached the end of the ocean cliff portion, an even larger RV started making it's way north towards us. We were like, turn back! This road was not meant for us!

Even as we headed into the redwood forest, the turns were still sharp as I had to keep in low gear going down those steep hills. I was pretty tired at that point so all the steering and braking really got tedious. George congratulated me, though, and said I went just the right speed, etc. I don't think he's so worried about my driving skills now, but I was so ready to turn the van back in the next morning, get on our Alaska-bound ship, and let somebody else drive. 

Sunday afternoon in California

After Liturgy we drove the short distance to the Golden Gate Bridge which was enshrouded by a cloud.
































































Our GPS told us that the nearest Wienerschniztel, hey, sometimes you get cravings, was in Oakland so we drove across Sausilito's pretty hills
































































to another bridge back to Oakland, which also had a mall where we bought jackets for the kids that didn't have them yet. San Francisco is chilly and windy in the morning and evening year round, but nice in the afternoon.

Then we drove back
across the bay
to tour the Napa valley wine vineyards



























































which, though beautiful, were a bit too commercial for our taste. We headed back west on 116, a moderately twisty turney up and down, forrested, sometimes with Redwoods, road, to get back on to hwy 1 before it got dark.



























































I'll just say that going north on hwy 1, south of San Francisco, with the ocean across the oncoming lane was different than our second experience. Coming up on the ocean in Jenner was innocent enough. Even though we were on the ocean side of the road, there was a shoulder and a bit of land before it dropped off onto the numerous public beaches. So we strolled along enjoying the views with those gentle golden hills on our left and planned to drive until sunset when we would park and let the kids play on the beach so as to maximize our view while we afforded a short pause in driving back to our southern San Francisco hotel. The vineyard map we had was not written to scale so we misjudged hwy 1's progress along the coast, and the gps only shows you about 3 miles of map at a time. Anyway it was a relaxing drive, with about 30 minutes until sunset, but then hwy 1 started going inland after Bodega Bay - isn't that where Hitchcock's The Birds is set? *insert sense of foreboding* After about 15 minutes, with the sun already playing hide and seek behind those lovely golden hills, I started to get nervous and asked George where the next public beach was. He said Dillon beach, but we couldn't tell how far it was, and we didn't know if would be faster to backtrack, which we seriously didn't want to do, or if Dillon would show up in time before the sunset. So I was really getting nervous thinking we were going to miss it. Then I saw a sign for Dillon beach, so we turned off hwy 1 to go straighter west toward the coast on a farm road. Those golden twisty turney up and down hills are so pretty! There were some interesting rock formations too in a valley area. I had renewed hope we'd make it back to the coast in time, but then there was a dumb, slow car in front of us that I


tailgated all the way to the coast which we barely got to, seconds before the sun dematerialized from view.












































































































 

,

The rest of Day 4 and Day 5 - San Francisco, Sunday. After all the day starts the previous sunset

We didn't have time to go to Yosemite as we had hoped. Instead we decided to take our time in Sequoia as it would have been too stressful to rush through both parks in one day. So we headed down the beloved mountains into California's fertile valley Saturday afternoon and with the aid of gps guidance found a chinese buffet in hot, dry Fresno. Just before sunset, we stopped at a fruit stand on our westerly route on hwy 152 and ate deliciously fresh cherries, grapes and nectarines for dessert. This road became dramatically gorgeous around Gilroy where the golden hills rose again to divide the valley from the ocean. Then the coastal redwoods guarded the best twisty turney, up and down road I've ever driven on. The difference was that the curves were banked so that you didn't feel like you were going to fall over the edges. It was like a nice smooth roller coaster. I strongly recommend this route to California coastal hwy 1. But it would be funner in a low profile sports car. Sadly it was almost dark when we got to the coast, but I could see and hear enough of the moonlit white-tipped waves crashing into the rocky coast, and smell and feel the salty, moist wind on that hilly highway to feel exaltation. The Texas coast is marshy or sandy, but flat. This was quite different.

We made our way to our hotel in southern San Francisco which we
approached along it's southern peninsula. Sunday morning we drove into the beautiful
but crowded city. It was a little nerve-racking navigating on the
one-way, steep, crowded streets and finding a place to park to attend
Liturgy.

Holy Virgin Cathedral was finished by St. John the Wonder-worker, who died a few days before I was born. We missed the English service, but the Church Slavonic was beautiful, and the choir heavenly (click here to another tab to get more of the Russian choral atmosphere). Understanding "Ghospodi pomilui"- "Lord have mercy" and "Slava"- "Glory" helped a lot. Also the Russian attendants were wonderful examples of humble, loving, devoted veneration of the Saints through their icons. Americans are much more timid and self-conscious about it. Some of the parishoners remember St. John in person and their love for him was very evident as they venerated his relics on the right side of the church and in the generous manner of the couple who gave us a tour of his original resting place below the Church. They had both been students in the Russian school surrounding the Church while he was serving there. Not that he still isn't.

 

Here's some mood music to go with the post below.

I've added a Collection called Way Out West Vacation 

Colors Of The Wind

Judy Kuhn

Sequoia National Park, Day 4, Saturday, July 28th

When we rounded the end of the Sierra Nevada's the terrain changed


































to rolling, grass covered hills. The grass got more golden and the hills more pronounced the further we progressed around the bend in the late afternoon towards our hotel in Visalia where we had reservations. I began to understand why California is called the "Golden State". Those were the most beautifully glowing golden hills I've ever seen. Unfortunately I didn't get pictures of them, but this one is a little like them. We were pretty tired out when we got to the hotel so we finished off our lunch meat, and called it a day.

The next morning we drove for a gorgeous 30 miles of rivers, lakes, and green hills which grew into the Sierra's and Sequoia National Park.
























The Giant Trees grow at about 7000 feet and under that range's particular conditions, so once again we ascended switchback mountains on the scary, I mean thrilling, side of the road.
























And then we entered, tada!:

The weather was just perfect as we ascended further with our windows down into the expanding trees.



















After the Visitor's center area, the parking lot for access to General Sherman,
























the tree with the most mass, not the tallest, widest, or the oldest mind you, was quite a steep hike above the tree.
























Luckily there was a place to drop off those who didn't feel like exerting themselves that much, like Rebecca and you-know-who. The rest of us got quite the work-out.

The Park Ranger said he's about 2000 years old according to carbon dating, but with new methods he gets younger all the time. Here's some more pics of Sequia National Park: