This day and the next, as I’ve written previously, were spent totally on the ship and at sea, a two days’ nonstop journey back to LA. If you’ve read about any of my previous travels, you’ll know that I generally like to really cram things in, because I just absolutely enjoy keeping busy and seeing and doing and eating and drinking everything I possibly can. And so because of this cruise’s more lackadaisical tempo, I’ve come to realize that there is a distinct difference between a vacation and a trip. A trip is exactly how I’ve done all (most?) of my previous vacations: I’m on a mission to see and do everything I possibly can. And while on those trips I would still have contemplative moments watching people while I’m eating beignets in New Orleans, for example, I wouldn’t necessarily say the purpose of my vacations was to relax and pamper but rather to experience and learn.
A vacation, on the other hand, implies time away from home to relax and slow down and not to necessarily fulfill a mission to see and do everything there possibly is to do, a way of traveling that I’m not sure I can assuredly say I’ve done on my previous adventures. This isn’t to say that a trip is better than a vacation or a vacation is better than a trip; rather, the two versions of traveling offer different ways to spend time away from home. And both modes are, in my opinion, absolutely fantastic. But for these final two days aboard the Discovery Princess, relaxing and pampering is exactly what we did do. A cruise ship is, after all, a floating and moving resort.
Our morning began, naturally enough, in our cabin. And a lazy morning it was! Matt and I both agreed that we didn’t use room service enough when we were on board, but it was on this morning that we did make use of the service, ordering breakfast and bloody marys, all enjoyed from the comfort of our bed while watching I Wanna Dance with Somebody, a biopic about Whitney Houston, an artist whose music I never found particularly alluring but who is undoubtedly a force nonetheless who shaped generations of music in profound and important ways. The film itself was fine. I don’t really remember much about it and don’t care to spend more time writing about it.
Eventually we did emerge from our cabin, wearing our best tropical shirts, and as we meandered about the ship, we discovered an entire bloody mary station in the piazza where we, of course, helped ourselves to some more bloody marys. More drinks in hand, we then made our way to a quite casual meal of neapolitan style pizzas from Gigi’s, the fancier pizzeria on board, the pizza capricciosa a particular delight: artichoke hearts, mushroom, ham, black olives, and basil. We both somewhat regretted taking this long to check out Gigi’s, as the pizzas were quite good and much more flavorful than the adequately serviceable poolside counterpart found at Gigi’s cousin, Slice. Following pizzas, we also helped ourselves to some gelato, which was especially delightful, as live music filled the ever fanciful space of the piazza.
We next spent some time lounging about outside on the sky deck, starboard and aft, only two other people in sight, over some Stella beers and Whispering Angel rosés. (“I love that we can find spaces on this ship where there are no people about!” I exclaimed to Matt. “Well, we are sitting in the shade on a windy boat deck,” he soberingly observed.) Following our lounge, we wandered a bit to the very aft where it was difficult not to notice the atrocious plume of smoke from the ship’s engines as we marveled at the wake of the ship. While we additionally noticed how much the Wake View pool sloshed about from side to side in these rougher seas, it was here where we ran into Mike, who told us about a shipboard informational session that he attended where he learned about the ship. And talk of the unsavory plume of smoke led him to remark that apparently the ship uses two different diesel standards, the cleaner and more expensive one used as we approach Californian waters because of whatever maritime law. He also told us how various radios are used on the ship based on who the crew are communicating with: other ships, other ports, airplanes, and internally.
As our day continued, we ran into more of “the younger boys” from the LGBT meetup (and by younger I mean we were all in our 40s and 50s), where we enjoyed a moment together in one of the many hot tubs on the sky deck, drinks in hand. Before we headed back to our cabin to get dressed up for our fancy evening out (it was “Dress to Impress” night after all), we felt a bit peckish, so we quickly had some hamburgers at the Salty Dog Grill by the pool, but the burgers were unremarkable and unworthy of any more words than I’m already devoting to it, so I’ll just move on.
As was our nightly tradition, we headed back to the Take Five Lounge for the LGBT meetup, which was fast decreasing in numbers, but where—over more beers and wine—we nonetheless listened to some important conversations about serving in the Navy as a gay man in the 1970s while also enjoying lighter conversations about television programs like The Love Boat, Hee Haw, Laugh In, and All in the Family, a generational divide clearly apparent amongst us, as I haven’t watched any of those shows, a part from a handful of Love Boat episodes.
It was soon time to head to Bistro sur la mer, the French specialty restaurant on board, and we were hoping the bistro would rectify the less than spectacular experience we had at the Crown Grill earlier in our trip. And indeed, the bistro did not disappoint, and our evening’s dining experience restored our decision to spend the little extra money to enjoy the specialty meals, something I highly recommend you to, too! The only thing I disliked about the bistro is that, unlike the Crown Grill, the bistro isn’t closed off from the rest of the ship; rather, it’s situated right along the busy piazza (the “grand staircase,” I liked to call it, if you recall) in the upper levels, so all the commotion and live music from the piazza interrupted what could be an otherwise elegant evening. Instead, the theme from Friends and “We Are Family” invaded the restaurant while we enjoyed some pretty fine meals in a chic space. (Don’t get me wrong, I adore Sister Sledge, but when the moment is right.)
To start, we had comme de olives et noires chèvre and frites de polenta aux herbes (i.e. black and green olives filled with creamy goat cheese and polenta fries with herbs, but it sounds so dumb and boring in English). Both starters were absolutely heavenly and were a marvelous preview of even more exquisite fare to come. Our starters were followed by proper hors d’oeuvres: bisque de homard for Matt and cromesquis d’escargot ail et fines herbes (i.e. a lobster bisque and snails, but—again—it just sounds so dumb in English). As you can expect of French cuisine, the hors d’oeuvres were smothered in creamy sauces and vibrantly dressed with tasty herbs and spices, a celebration for the senses. Our célébration de la nourriture continued with our mains, jarret de veau a l’ancienne comme une blanquette aux morilles riz pilaf for Matt and quenelles de vivaneau et St. Jacques, salpicon de homard et jus des carcasses for me (again, the English makes it sound so dumb: veal in a mushroom cream sauce and red snapper, scallops, and lobster morsels in a lobster sauce). Everything was just absolutely divine, ravishingly delectable, and sublimely glorious. And while I found myself comparing the meal to an actual French meal I had in actual Paris (the meal aboard the Discovery Princess was a pretty close approximation to real French cuisine, even without squinting my eyes, er, taste buds), I was genuinely impressed with the entire evening. And it was also just such a romantic time as well, the two of us all dressed up fancifully, enjoying a wonderfully charming time together. It was just so, so lovely.
Sadly, however, we had to skip dessert of all things! I felt really bad as we started to get up, and our lovely waiter also seemed genuinely surprised we were leaving so soon. But he understood once we explained that we had to get to the evening’s show at the Princess Theatre. In retrospect, I wish we would have skipped the mediocre show we were about to see, but it was our last chance to see a full-scale theatrical work while on board, so we felt obligated.
The show was Spotlight Bar, and it was fine. The thing about seeing a show on a ship like this (and I remarked about this previously when we saw Rock Opera) is that the show has to appeal to such a wide swath of folks: to those who have no idea what a play is and those who have been to more shows they’re capable of remembering. So whatever show they put on, it has to be as bland and vanilla as possible, appealing to the “least common denominator,” as Matt remarked.
All this said, the production values of these shows are quite remarkable. Entering the theatre, we gazed upon a set not unlike a 1920s speakeasy: timeless brick walls; elegantly tall and handsomely arched windows; graceful lighting casting long, moody shadows; “Spotlight Bar” emblazoned in neon lights at the top of the proscenium. The singers and dancers were also very talented and delivered strong performances of music that I wasn’t familiar with but apparently everyone else was. (I recognized “Why Haven’t I Heard from You” by Reba and “Freedom! 90” by George Michael while Matt knew everything that was performed, but he’s good for me like that, helping me to get to know things that are, heaven forbid, popular.)
Following the show (it was only 45 minutes long), we headed to the Vista Lounge where we ran into Mike and Sonny along with some other queers to enjoy a 90s dance party, a live DJ spinning some tunes. But the DJ couldn’t get his decade right, as he spun such timeless classics like “Take on Me” by a-ha, “Stayin’ Alive” by the Bee Gees, “Dancing Queen” by ABBA (but also some horrendous numbers like that atrocious Robin Thicke tune… you know you which one I’m talking about). All this said, I never have felt very comfortable on the dance floor (I can’t seem to find a way to be able to move in a way that isn’t stiff and rigid), but it was still fun making the best of it. I think Matt enjoyed himself more, as he went back out onto the floor a second time while I hung back.
And then, just like that, our evening came to a close. As usual, I couldn’t help but start to feel that usual melancholy creep in when travels start to come to an end. But we still had one more day at sea, and we absolutely indulged in everything we possibly could.