My Take on the Sun Princess US Inaugural Voyage

 

We're seasoned cruisers with nearly a dozen trips behind us. At this point, we know what we like and don't like about the different size ships.

In October 2024, we took an inaugural cruise on the Sun Princess which had just completed its European tour. This was the first time the ship was heading out from the United States.

We flew in the night before and enjoyed a wonderful room at The Westin Fort Lauderdale Beach Resort.

The hotel was directly across from the Atlantic Ocean with a beautiful view. The hotel staff was friendly, the room was clean and quiet and we were pleased with our short stay. Walking distance from the hotel, we found the Casa Blanca Restaurant where we shared a burger and glasses of delicious sangria.

Casa Blanca in Ft. Lauderdale

The next morning we took an Uber to the port.

Embarkation day is a big challenge for many of the cruise lines. There are hundreds of people showing up at the same time, all needing to go through processing to get badges, check their luggage, go through security and then walk through the maize of jetways to board the ship.

It was clear this was the first time the port employees had seen such a volume of passengers and they were ill prepared to process so many people at once.

Hopefully, with some experience, they will have ironed out the embarkation issues and have a better method of crowd handling.

The walk back to the hotel.

We entered the queue of waiting people, after making our way all the way to the end of the line which had doubled back on itself. Standing in the tropical 90 degree heat with no cross breeze or fans in the outdoor warehouse-type space was stifling. A couple of times I thought my hubby was going to pass out.

We had checked our roller bags at the entrance, so we were carrying our heavy backpacks as the line crept slowly towards the door.

There's supposed to be a priority boarding for seasoned cruisers who've achieved "Elite" or "Platinum" status due to loyalty or number of cruises taken, but there was no such thing in place.

Once inside, the line crept slowly through a security checkpoint where, everything must be placed on the conveyor belt - hats, purses, phones, luggage, all had to go through the scanner.

It was not the highlight of our trip.

The send-off when the ship first left the port was spectacular. We watched a pair of tugboats gracefully dancing in a performance with water sprays that created a rainbow effect. It was amazing!

The Tugboat Show

We couldn't help but make comparisons to other cruises we've taken. We've been on the Ruby Princess a few times. It's a smaller ship built in 2008, that holds around 3,080 guests plus a crew of  1,200. We love the quaint feel of the cozy restaurants and public places that are welcoming and warm. The Piazza has an ambiance that brings back times gone by.

In contrast, the Sun Princess, the newest ship in the fleet, holds up to 4,300 guests with a crew of 1,600. You'd be surprised at the difference 1,600 extra people make on a ship, even of this size. The shops were crowded, the restaurants had wait lists and even the bars had long wait times for service.

In port at Amber Cove

We found ourselves engulfed in a sea of passengers no matter what the venue, whether in ship stores, dining rooms, bars or at the Piazza. 

The Piazza

Speaking of which, the multi-level seating in the Piazza on the Sun, although convenient and comfortable, lacks personality.

While the super large screen makes it easier to see performances, games or magic shows on the Sun, the comforting ambiance is lacking.

We bought the drink package because we like specialty coffee, premium desserts, and the reserve dining experience where you can dine at anytime without waiting in line. With the new Sanctuary collection, the reserve collection option is removed and passenger's are assigned a restaurant of their own.

This was my dinner the first night in the Sanctuary restaurant. The steak was tough, the baked potato was hard as were the veggies. The hubby sent his Alfredo back as it was hard and cold. The Maître de wasn't too accommodating and we left with food uneaten.

As mini-suite Sanctuary guests, we were allowed to have breakfast each morning in the Sanctuary dining room but mostly skipped the restaurant and went to the buffet where they had prepare-to-order omelets and assorted breakfast food and pastries. 

For specialty restaurants, we had difficulty getting a reservation at our favorite, Catch by Rudi, so we chose the Crown Grill. It was our first time to be disappointed with the service and "quality" of the meal. We ate less than half of the lobster dinner and left before dessert.

We had much better luck with a new specialty dining place called Umai, Teppanyaki which is a hibachi grill-type venue where you sit with other people and the chef puts on a show of cooking, singing and telling jokes. 

The shrimp flipped into the chef's hat trick was different when he tossed in an egg and caught it expertly.

The food was fantastic, the whole meal was fabulous. We couldn't have asked for anything better.

Returning from a tiring day in port, we tried another new place called American Diner. That was far and away from anything resembling a diner that we could imagine. Service was slow - we must have been between shifts because we gave our order to three different people before they finally got it.

Milkshakes were watery and tasteless. The hot dogs were served on a Brioche roll (where's the beef?) with a smearing of "bacon onion jam" which we had asked them to leave off. We left most of our meal on the table.

For us, it's an easy choice to book on the smaller ships. They're more personable, friendly, and less crowded. 

Despite my complaints about this voyage, we remain steadfast cruisers who will continue to sail on the Princess line of ships. Just, for now, not the mega sized ones. See you on the sea.

Remembering Paula

This is for my friend . 

July will always remind me of the last time I ever saw Paula.

July of every year since 1988, our phone calls focused on our upcoming week's vacation at her timeshare. Week 37 was our week.

In 2017, we had missed each other's calls for several days when she left a voice mail with an apology. When we finally connected, she shared the worst news possible.

She'd been in the hospital for ten days being poked and tested. When they finally told her the results it was an impersonal phone call from her doctor.

She had Stage 4 pancreatic cancer.

1983 at the Gold Twin Towers in Dallas

Though we lived in different states, our lives seemed to run in parallel. Each of us were licensed hair stylists and owned hair salons, then sold them.

We took real estate classes and got our real estate licenses. 

We both took jobs in the corporate world.

We had each married someone with a child making us instant stepmothers to five-year old boys. Later, we shared the heartbreak of those failed relationships and the joy of coming back from darkness to better times.

In 1983, when the TV show "Dallas" was popular, she visited Texas. We took a tour of Southfork Ranch and went to the Gold Twin Towers, the location of J.R. Ewing's fictional office.

September of1988, we spent our first week together at her timeshare on North Reddington shores. We shopped together for groceries, cooked on the outdoor grills at the resort and enjoyed spectacular views of the sunset. I remember staying up all night laughing and watching old movies on a rented VCR.

Nearly every year after that, we'd spend week 37 at the beach, getting sun tans, at the pool and hot tub. One year we brought the same paperback novels to read. We'd sadly pack at the end of the week and drive to her house for our last night together.

She'd drop me off for an early morning flight at Tampa Airport. I'd call to let her know I was home safe and she would tell me she'd cried all the way home from the airport.

She felt things deeply and wasn't afraid to show her emotions.

We shared meals at Village Inn Pancake House, Houlihan's, Friday's, Mexican Restaurants and more. We loved the paella with sangria and homemade bread at Cafe Pepe. We often drove around her neighborhood where parrots from Busch Gardens roosted in trees. My old house was only a few blocks from hers so we'd do a drive-by.

During the 1990s we'd meet up in Orlando at my dad's house to share a family meal. Dad served as the father figure she'd always wanted having been raised by a single mom. We called each other sisters. 

1995 at my Dad's house

When Dad passed away, she drove for two-hours to be with me at his funeral and afterward took me home with her. She was a source of comfort and friendship.

In 2009, she was proud that she finally could fit into at pair of size 10 shorts. Not the kind with elastic waist, either. These were the button and zip shorts she'd always dreamed she would wear. She had finally conquered her life-long battle with weight control.

2008 North Reddington Shores

Still in her fifties, she'd already been through agonizing pain and a long battle to find a doctor to do hip replacement surgery. Her osteoarthritis had destroyed her hip joint making it nearly impossible to walk. Our shopping trips to favorite places like  thrift stores were less frequent with my friend whose every step radiated pain.

1993 Kongfrontation

When she experienced numbness in her hands, unexpected falls and other more disturbing side effects, she had cervical spinal surgery, fusing five vertebra in her neck. After her recovery, she looked great. I was proud of her resilience and resolve.

Our last beach trip in September 2016, grocery shopping was dramatically different than the years prior. We passed on getting several desserts for the week. Instead, we got only half a Key Lime Pie. The multiple types of breads we usually picked out were missing, too. Potato chips, ice cream, cookies, apple strudel and chocolate candy had shrunk to only a couple of choices.

I was proud of what I thought was her restraint. I usually went home a few pounds heavier after our vacation. I had no idea that something was going wrong with her digestive tract. Something very wrong.

I didn't know that my friend had Stage 4 cancer.

When I got the news, I wanted to fly to Florida immediately. But she wanted me to wait until she started chemotherapy. By then, she had stopped eating, suffering extreme gastric reactions after eating any kind of food.

She grew too weak for chemotherapy which, at best might prolong her life a few months, maybe even a couple of years. She was resilient, still hoping to beat this disease that turned her into a skeleton.

I'll never forget her words. "Don't think the irony of this disease is lost on me. All my life I've struggled to lose weight and now I'm dying of starvation."

Right to the end, she remained grateful for the small comforts and blessings of life and friends who loved her dearly. She was steadfast in her love for her two  dogs whose actions showed they were clearly aware of her situation.

She loved her mother whom she'd helped recover from a near fatal infection the previous year. Joyce never expected to outlive her daughter.

I treasure the photos of forty years I shared with my friend. Her house was always welcoming, warm and inviting. We laughed at her cockatiel, T.C. Wilson, who talked to the legions of dogs that came and went over the 20 years he lived. 

1995 with Nevada and Chloe

I recall our many coffee talks in her living room watching through the front window as her neighborhood changed with time. She was a someone who could put you instantly at ease whether watching TV or just hanging out. We could be comfortable even reading books, both of us silent for hours. There was no pressure to follow a schedule or do things. We were there for each other.

She remembered to call on birthdays, holidays and in-between, when we'd share the latest changes in our jobs and our lives.

She was a great listener.

She had an amazing recall of my family members, remembering names of aunts and cousins from stories told over the years.

When our roles expanded to caring for our aging mothers and their live-in partners, we often shared the joys and difficulties of being caregivers and about the day we might lose our mothers. We never imagined that one of us would go first.

2016 at the beach

She passed away on July 21st, 2017, just two quick months after her diagnosis.

I still reach for the phone to call her, even after these years. I still think of us sharing a cup of coffee in her living room with the dogs, cats and T.C. Wilson.

She loved the Lord and had a strong faith. I hope she's had a chance to meet Him and reunite with her pets that have crossed over: Chivas, Aramis, Nevada, Spunky, Chloe, Zoey, Hansel, Gretel, Dakota and TC Wilson.

Paula is gone but not forgotten. She lives on in my dreams and memories.

Vacation on the Florida Gulf Coast

Toward the end of June, as our scheduled vacation grows closer, phone calls between me and my life long friend revolve around our week when she invites me to spend time with her. 

Since 1988, we've enjoyed relaxing together in the sun, swimming in the Jacuzzi, and catching up with each other's lives during a care-free seven days on the beach. Over the years, much in our lives has changed, but that time remains consistent.

The routine is the same year after year. I fly in from Dallas and she picks me up at the airport. We drive to her house to get the dogs ready for the kennel then we wait for Saturday afternoon when we can check in at the resort. She wisely invested in a one-bedroom timeshare years ago, and every year, come rain or shine, she has something to look forward to. What I've learned about vacations from her is that if you don't plan one, it won't happen.

Howard Frankland Bridge by By Miscelena 1

We drive across the Howard Frankland Bridge connecting Tampa Bay mainland to the west coast, stopping at Publix to pick up a supply of groceries for the week: steaks, baking potatoes, lettuce, tomatoes, hot dogs, and hamburger, veggies and an assortment of bread, cereal, milk, sodas, chips and snacks.

We travel light, our suitcases filled with shorts, tank tops, swim suits, flip flops and a good hat to protect our skin from the blazing sun. No fancy attire is required even when we eat out at beach side restaurants. Casual attire is king in Florida.

Next, we detour to the package store to pick up a gallon of burgundy and brandy for an endless pitcher of home made Sangria to share with our neighbors. Once we settle in to our room we visit the nearby shops to stock up on sunscreen and touristy things like T-shirts emblazoned with palm trees, sea oats and pelicans.

We're assigned the same room year after year, so we know exactly what to expect when we arrive. Each year, when we pick up the keys to her balcony apartment overlooking the sparkling pool and check in, it's like a step back into time. 

The keys are attached to green plastic tags with the room number. 

The kitchen has a full-size refrigerator, a range and oven, microwave, coffee pot and even a dishwasher. The unit is equipped with pots and pans, real dishes and silverware.

The kitchen is small but equipped with everything we need.

There's cable TV, although it holds less interest than usual for the week while we bask under umbrellas reading our paperback novels.

The couch makes into a hide-a-bed, and there's a queen sized-bed, comfortably allowing for four guests in this unit.

Our days are spent swimming in the pool, soaking in the Jacuzzi spa, grilling out on gas barbecue grills, and searching for shells. We alternate between dips in the pool and the Gulf  listening to the squawk of seagulls scrabbling over scraps of food.

Rhythmic waves pound against the glistening beach shore providing a relaxing and soothing reassurance that the ocean is eternal. We doze off in our lounge chairs, heads nodding while the warmth of the sun performs its magic, baking away our cares as we sit in the shade of the umbrellas and watch the waves roll out. (Sitting on the Dock of the Bay - Otis Redding)

Over the years improvements have been made at the resort. The balcony railings, formerly made of dark stained wood, have been replaced with practical white plastic rails. 

The uneven concrete walkway has been upgraded with beautiful patio stones that surround the pool and travel along the path leading to the outdoor shower. A locking storage unit has replaced the open lean-to which once housed the bright blue lounge chair mats.

Beach loungers are available at the resort

A crew of young college students perform routine maintenance vacuuming the sparkling pool and cleaning the swim spa jacuzzi. It always looks fresh and inviting for our week of vacation.

Perhaps the best part of the week is the quiet appreciation of nature in the evenings. The residents tend to gather under the umbrellas near time for sundown each night to enjoy that gift of serenity and beauty, a momentary splash of every color imaginable before the sun dunks into the ocean one more time.

As evening draws near, a contingent of beach goers gather at the shoreline in anticipation of the evening's spectacular view. Taking photos at sunset is a standard part of the week's ritual. And once that lightning fast week is over, sharing the photos brings back the joy of the week for years to come.

1 Photo of Howard Frankland Bridge, By Miscelena (http://www.flickr.com/photos/miscelena/403636460/) [CC BY-SA 2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

Wish You Were Here

Feeling in the mood for some tunes this morning. Sharing a couple of them here as I write. Pink Floyd sings it well.

I hold on to many good memories of St. Petersburg FL beach during a time when I was considered family. We shared meals, beachside barbecues, each of us took turns reading The Mephisto Waltz, later trekking to the movie theater in downtown St. Petersburg to watch it together.

That was the summer the deck was built to connect the sandspur ridden path from the beach, winding between the sea oats abundant that year before arriving at the back of the cottage where the glass door led to the kitchen. A table with an umbrella called quietly for a long read of the Sunday Newspaper listening to the screech of sea gulls swarming over stale crusts of bread. 

London Broil was baking in the oven; fine food were consumed while we wore sandy swimsuits and flip flops and singing the tunes of the day playing on the radio. The pulsating shower head in the downstairs bath: drilling away the salt; stinging the fresh sunburn; washing clean all the cares of the world. And for that brief moment I belonged.

That was a beautiful summer; the Summer of '69.

Paul Mauriat, "Love is Blue" 1968