All at sea

Today is a sea day, a nautical term meaning succor for the jet-lagged. We have no ports of call and no shore time, and are sailing north from Copenhagen to a point partway up the Norwegian coast by the most direct route. We are out of sight of land and, for the most part, out of reach of GSM towers. It is, in short, a day perfectly suited to putting off both activities and blogging, and just catching up on sleep.

So I will write about yesterday instead, which was much more interesting. Over breakfast at our hotel we were pegged as Prairie Home cruisers by Marcia and Kurt, a very personable and interesting couple from Seattle who had done the cruise before. We decided to share a cab to the ship, and enjoyed their company throughout the ride, the various forms of processing we underwent, embarkation, and lunch. Exploring the ship afterwards we found, among many other things, the nightclub, the casino, the piano bar, the extremely well-stocked library with adjoining espresso bar, the various dining rooms, the tennis courts and assorted pools, and the teens-only themed tropical waterfall grotto with pools, which we envied.

We also toured the spa, which is not merely the onboard purveyor of spalike services but which you must pass throught to reach the gym. Nice bit of marketing, that. We each signed up for membership in the Thermal Suite, a set of rooms with steam, jacuzzi, and as their centerpiece a set of heated tile lounge chairs sort of extruded from the floor in which you basically lounge and melt. The perfect thing after a long day of sightseeing, we figure. We also bought some sessions in a shiny egglike pod which simultaneously warms and gently massages you while spraying you with soothing aromas - the better to relax you while the gently humming white pod clones your body for eventual possession by our alien masters, I imagine. Anyway, half an hour in The Pod is said to substitute for three hours of sleep. Anything that dares make a promise like that has to be tried, however poor the odds.

Dinner companions, randomly assigned and yours for the duration of the voyage, are always a source of trepidation on a cruise like this. Anything can happen from mere uncomfortable silences to the dread People With Whose Political Opinions We Disagree. So we were not merely pleasantly surprise but delighted (and here I wish my blackberry did italics) to make the acquaintance of tablemates Kristi, a mostly-retired opera singer now living in Dublin and reading up on theoretical physics, and Madeline, her 9-year-old daughter who is lovely and charming and everything else that a pretty much idealized 9-year-old can be. There will be many Kristi-and-Madeline stories in days to come, I'm sure.

After our *delightful* dinner we sought seats for the 10pm PHC show itself. What a pleasure. But I'll write about that later, because tonight's show is beginning.