Challenges of crossing the ocean…

Towel pet on our bed last night.  The eyes are inverted coffee creamers.  Too cute.

Challenge #1:  Time changes

Since leaving Belize on April 9, we’ve experienced a number of time changes. Although a small amount in terms of world travel, it has affected us. We had wrongfully assumed that the gradual time differences occurring while crossing the ocean would be insignificant.  With Belize not observing Daylight Savings Time resulting in a two hour difference in Miami, at this point, the four hour difference has hit us.
Since boarding the Norwegian Epic on April 20th, we’ve had two time changes with another coming tonight. Why I thought we’d be invincible to these changes escapes me.
The almost full moon taken from our veranda last night.

Each of the past four mornings, we’ve awakened around 9:00 am. I can’t recall a time in the past 20 years that I awoke this late. Tom with his prior work schedule occasionally slept a little later. I’ve always felt that half my day was over by noon upon awakening most days between 5:30 and 6:00 am.

It appears that the only way to adjust as we venture toward Europe is to start getting up earlier. At this point, still on Belize time, when we awaken at 6:00 am, it’s still 2:00 am to our bodies.  This morning, we committed to getting up by 7:00 am going forward, starting tomorrow morning. We’ll set the alarm.

Doing so, and following this concept as we traverse through time zones in our travels, will allow us to adapt more quickly. Also, leaving the drapes open at night to allow morning light to awaken us along with eating our two daily meals at regular intervals, for us, within an hour of awakening and five hours before going to bed, should get us on track in no time.

Challenge #2:
Rough waters at sea

We were warned by our captain a few days ago. When nothing major occurred, I dismissed it as a stroke of luck, again making a wrongful assumption, that this crossing of the Atlantic Ocean would be “smooth sailing.” Ha! 

As I write this, we are sitting in our favorite booth (coincidentally available, three mornings in a row) in the Garden Cafe, after a satisfying few cups of coffee and breakfast, watching the horizon rise and fall through the walls of glass surrounding us. For the past 20 minutes, I contemplated getting up and getting a cup of tea, wondering how I’ll carry it the short distance from the beverage area back to the booth.
The magic of moon appeals to all of us, wherever we may be. (The orange line in the upper left corner is the overhang on our balcony.  To avoid including it, I would have had to hang over the railing.  No thank you!)

Alas, I made my tea, while practically trotting to and fro as the rolling waves attempted to catapult me across the room.  Tom, of course, after 42 years of rocking and rolling on the railroad, experiences no such sensation.

Thank goodness, at this point, I don’t feel seasick. Why, not?  I don’t know. The captain made an
announcement about the rough seas over the loudspeaker a few minutes ago, but people wouldn’t shut up long enough to be able to hear what he was saying.

Perhaps it is better that way. Ignorance is bliss. Bouncing and rolling, not so much. Will it get worse? I imagine so. We’ve heard stories since boarding this ship, of rough waters resulting in order that passengers stay in their cabins, taking everything off of the shelves. 

We have our zillions of bottles of vitamins on a shelf in our cabin which I expect will be all over the floor when we return.  Tom just went to the window here in the Garden Cafe to look out, in awe of the waves, coming back with a big smile, loving the adventure of it all. 

As long as we don’t get seasick, I’m OK.  This surprises me.  During the first few nights on our first cruise on the smaller Celebrity Century, I was unable to sleep as the ship rolled from side to side. Now, on our 5th cruise since January 3, 2013, I am at ease, although well aware of the sensations.

How quickly we adapt, we humans. Ironically, I think we are designed for change by possessing the emotional and physical where-with-all to grow, to learn and to adjust to a new environment, a new way of life and ultimately of a new way of observing the world around us. For this, my friends, we are grateful.