Day 17…Part 2, Walvis Bay, Namibia…Flamingos…
On Monday, as we stood at the edge of the Walvis Bay Lagoon, the air was still and heavy with the scent of salt and seaweed. The soft hush of the ocean was interrupted only by the distant calls of the flamingos, hundreds, perhaps thousands of them, dotting the shallow waters in every direction. It was one of those moments that silences conversation, when nature’s display is so extraordinary that words simply can’t compete.
The flamingos here are an iconic feature of Walvis Bay, a living, breathing tapestry of pink and white across the blue-gray water. As the morning light shifted, their feathers glowed in varying shades of rose, blush, and coral, creating a scene almost too beautiful to seem real. Some stood still on one impossibly thin leg, heads tucked neatly beneath a wing, while others waded gracefully through the shallows, dipping their curved bills into the water to feed. It’s mesmerizing to watch their heads move back and forth as they filter tiny crustaceans and algae from the water, the very source of that radiant color.
Flamingos are curious creatures. From a distance, they appear delicate, almost fragile, but up close, you realize they are strong and sturdy, built for balance and endurance. Their bright hues come not from birth but from diet, specifically the microscopic shrimp and plankton rich in beta-carotene that thrive in these mineral-laden waters. The salt pans and lagoons around Walvis Bay provide the perfect habitat for this. The wetlands here are recognized as a Ramsar site, an international designation protecting crucial habitats for waterfowl, and it’s easy to see why. Beyond the flamingos, there are pelicans, cormorants, and countless other species sharing the same shimmering expanse.
We arrived early in the morning, hoping to catch the best light for photos, and we were rewarded beyond expectation. The rising sun painted the water in soft gold, and the flamingos reflected like brushstrokes across a mirror. Every time a slight breeze rippled the surface, the reflections wavered, turning the scene into an impressionist painting come to life. A few flamingos took flight, their long necks stretched forward, legs trailing behind like streamers. In that moment, their black-tipped wings flashed dramatically against the pale pink of their bodies, a sight that made us gasp aloud.4
What struck me most was their serenity. Even in large numbers, there’s a quiet order among them. They move with patience, as if time is irrelevant, as if they exist in a world untouched by hurry. Watching them, I couldn’t help but think of how this calm rhythm contrasts so deeply with our own often hurried pace of travel. Here, everything slows down. The flamingos seem to remind us that beauty is best appreciated when we pause long enough to truly see it.
The crunch of salt crystals beneath our shoes, the distant hum of a fishing boat, and the low murmur of the breeze made the experience feel almost meditative. Occasionally, one flamingo would utter a low, guttural sound, as if checking in with the others, but for the most part, silence prevailed.
By the time we left, the sun was high, and the colors of the lagoon had shifted again. The pinks now appeared softer, blending gently into the silvery-blue horizon. The flamingos were still feeding, still wading, still performing their ancient ritual as they have done here for generations. It’s easy to see why Walvis Bay is often called one of Namibia’s most picturesque coastal spots. The flamingos lend it a kind of magic, transforming a simple saltwater lagoon into a masterpiece of living color.
As we drove away, I looked back one last time. The flamingos were still there, their slender forms shimmering in the heat, and I knew the image would stay with me long after we’d gone, one of those rare travel moments that imprints itself deeply in memory, a reminder of nature’s grace and the quiet joy found in simply watching the world unfold.
Tomorrow, we’ll be in Cape Town for almost two days, with an exciting event we’ll share soon about Friday!
Be well,
Photo from ten years ago today, November 12, 2015:
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| A mooring spot for the locals in Savusavu, Fiji. For more photos, please click here. |
Day 16…Part 1, Walvis Bay, Namibia photos….Back out to sea…
On Veterans Day, November 11, 2025: On this Veterans Day, we pause to remember and give thanks to all who have served. May your bravery never be forgotten, and may you feel the deep gratitude of a nation that honors you.”
Yesterday turned out to be one of those travel days that remind us why we continue to embrace this nomadic life after so many years on the road, or, in this case, at sea. After nine consecutive days of sailing, we finally arrived in Walvis Bay, Namibia, a place we’d long been curious about. The moment we stepped off the ship, the crisp desert air mingled with the salty breeze from the Atlantic, and we could feel that distinctive African rhythm—unhurried, yet quietly alive with energy.
We decided not to take one of the ship’s pricey organized excursions. Instead, we chose a local taxi service to show us around, giving us a chance to experience the area through the eyes of someone who calls it home. That’s how we met Francisco Ambrosini, our driver for the day, a kind and soft-spoken man who immediately made us feel at ease. His black SUV was spotless and comfortable, and from the moment we began our tour, we knew we’d made the right choice.
Francisco seemed to intuitively understand the pace we enjoyed—unhurried, but thorough. Our first stop was the lagoon, famous for its vast colonies of flamingos. As we approached the water, the sight took our breath away. Thousands of the graceful pink birds waded and fed in the shallow blue water, their movements so synchronized it seemed choreographed. The reflection of their slender legs shimmered in the morning light, creating a watercolor effect that no camera could fully capture, though we certainly tried. Francisco patiently waited while we took dozens of photos, never rushing us, always smiling and making sure we were happy with the view.
From there, he drove us toward the salt-making flats, a fascinating contrast to the lush vibrancy of the flamingo lagoons. The landscape turned stark and white, stretching endlessly under the African sun. Francisco explained how the salt is harvested—a meticulous process that relies on evaporation and natural brine concentration. We could see the piles of salt glistening in the distance, like small snowcapped mountains scattered across the desert. There was a surreal beauty to it, a kind of quiet poetry that reminded us how diverse and astonishing the world can be when seen through curious eyes.
And then came one of the day’s highlights: the Pink Lake. We’d seen photos before, but standing beside it was something else entirely. The color was real—vivid pink, almost otherworldly, caused by microscopic algae that thrive in the saline water. Against the backdrop of the desert and the blue sky, it looked like a dreamscape. Again, Francisco encouraged us to take our time, stepping out of the SUV with us, answering our endless questions, and even suggesting the best angles for photographs.
Throughout the day, his commentary was informative yet unscripted. He spoke with pride and affection for his city, sharing insights into the local economy, history, and the changes that tourism has brought over the years. We both appreciated how he managed to weave facts with personal stories, giving us a glimpse into everyday life in Walvis Bay—something no cruise line excursion could have done so authentically.
After several hours of exploring, Francisco drove us back to the port. The total cost was US $60 for both of us, which felt like an excellent value for a private tour that covered so much ground. We were so pleased with his service that we left him a generous tip, which we felt was well deserved. More than once, he made sure we felt comfortable and safe, keeping a watchful eye when we stopped for photos and ensuring we had water and shade when needed.
It’s a wonderful thing, finding local guides like Francisco—people who genuinely care about your experience, who open their world to you with warmth and pride, in a world that sometimes feels too rushed, too commercialized. These small, personal connections mean everything.
If you ever find yourself arriving by ship or staying in Walvis Bay, we can wholeheartedly recommend Francisco Ambrosini. You can reach him by email at ondjete@outlook.com or by phone at +264 81 240 0149. We have no doubt he’ll offer you the same thoughtful, well-paced experience he gave us.
As our ship pulled away later that evening, the sun sinking low over the Namib Desert, we both agreed that our brief time in Walvis Bay had left a lasting impression. Sometimes, the best travel days aren’t the ones packed with famous landmarks or long itineraries. They’re the ones where you connect with a place and its people in a genuine, memorable way. Yesterday was one of those days, and we’ll carry that feeling with us long after we’ve left Namibia’s golden shores behind.
Tomorrow, we’ll be back with stories and photos of the pink flamingos and more from our tour in Walvis Bay, Namibia.
Be well.
Photo from ten years ago today, November 11, 2015:
Day 15…No post today…We have gone ashore in Walvis Bay, Namibia….
We will be back tomorrow on Day 16 with photos from our Namibian tour.
Day 14, Sea days continue…Tomorrow, Walvis Bay, Namibia…
Today marks the last of our nine consecutive days at sea. It’s almost hard to believe how quickly this stretch of ocean life has passed. When we first realized we’d have over a week without a single port stop, it sounded like a long time, days merging into one another, the horizon stretching endlessly in every direction. But here we are, on the eve of reaching Walvis Bay, Namibia, feeling as though the rhythm of the sea has become part of our internal clock. Each sunrise has painted its own story across the water, and each evening, as the ship gently rocked beneath us, we’ve watched the sun sink into the vast Atlantic with the same sense of awe as the day before.
Tomorrow, when the ship finally docks, we’ll step ashore and breathe in the dry desert air of Namibia. The plan is simple: no tours, no rush, just a taxi ride into town to see a few of the sights. After so many days surrounded only by water, the thought of solid ground beneath our feet feels strangely foreign and yet welcome. Walvis Bay, with its sand dunes meeting the sea, flamingos wading through the shallow lagoons, and quiet stretches of coastline, will be a lovely change of scenery. We’ve talked often about spending an extended period in Namibia someday, and this visit will give us a taste of what that might feel like.
Namibia has always intrigued us. There’s a quiet wildness about it, a sense of solitude that feels both vast and comforting. It’s the kind of place that seems to understand travelers like us, those who move slowly, staying long enough to absorb the rhythm of a place before heading on to the next. When we do eventually stay there, we can remain for a few months before returning to South Africa, since Namibia’s proximity on the northwest border doesn’t interfere with our visa timing. It’s a convenient and appealing option, especially since we can make our way back to Marloth Park afterward, a place that always feels like a second home to us.
However, the intricacies of South African visa regulations make planning a bit like solving a puzzle. It’s not as simple as crossing a nearby border and re-entering to get a fresh visa stamp. South Africa has strict rules to prevent what it calls “border hopping,” where visitors leave the country briefly to return for another 90-day stay. Bordering countries such as Namibia, Mozambique, Zimbabwe, and Botswana don’t qualify for new visa entries. To re-enter South Africa after our permitted time, we must either return to our home country or visit a non-bordering African nation or another country outside of Africa.
That’s one of the reasons we’ve traveled to Zambia so often in the past. Zambia doesn’t share a border with South Africa, making it a viable destination when we need to step away briefly before re-entering. Each time we’ve visited, we’ve discovered something new, lush landscapes, friendly people, and the spectacular Victoria Falls, which never loses its power to amaze. It’s fascinating how our travel patterns have been shaped not just by wanderlust but by the practicalities of visas and regulations. Over time, it’s become second nature to plan our route around these rules, blending bureaucracy with adventure in a way that feels almost seamless now.
Still, when we stand on the deck tonight, watching the final sunset of this long stretch at sea, none of that feels complicated. The horizon glows in shades of gold and rose, and there’s a quiet peace in knowing that tomorrow we’ll set foot on African soil again. We’ve learned to take these transitions in stride, the slow days at sea, the anticipation of arrival, and the steady hum of plans forming for the months ahead. Life as perpetual travelers requires flexibility, but it also rewards us with a deeper understanding of how connected everything is: the people, the landscapes, even the bureaucracies that nudge us from one place to another.
So tonight, as the ship glides through calm waters and we prepare for our arrival in Walvis Bay, I feel both grateful and grounded. These days at sea have reminded me how content we are living this way, moving forward, adapting, finding joy in both the journey and the waiting. Tomorrow, a new chapter begins, if only for a day, as we step off the ship and into the sandy beauty of Namibia, carrying with us the gentle rhythm of the ocean and the quiet excitement of what lies ahead.
Be well.
Photo from ten years ago today, November 9, 2015:
Day 13, Sea days continue…Update on the cruise cough…Tamiflu benefits…
When that familiar ache settles deep into the bones, the chills start creeping across your skin, and the world suddenly feels like it’s been wrapped in fog, most of us know that dreadful feeling—it’s the flu. Not just a little sniffle or a passing sore throat, but the real thing, the kind that knocks you flat for days. That’s where Tamiflu, or Oseltamivir as it’s known generically, comes into the picture. Over the years, it’s become a trusted companion for those of us who’ve faced influenza’s wrath and wanted a fighting chance at shortening the misery.
Tamiflu is what you reach for when you can feel the flu tightening its grip, especially within the first 48 hours of symptoms. That timing is critical. The medication doesn’t work like a magic wand; it can’t eradicate the virus, but it can slow its multiplication in the body. What that means for most people is fewer days of fever, body aches, and exhaustion. In some cases, it can shorten the illness by as much as one or two days, which doesn’t sound like much until you’ve been bedridden, staring at the ceiling, wondering if you’ll ever feel normal again. Those two days can feel like a gift.
For travelers like us, constantly moving between climates, continents, and crowded environments like airports and cruise ships, the risk of catching the flu is always lurking. We try to be careful, washing hands frequently, eating well, and staying rested, but exposure is inevitable when you’re surrounded by people from all over the world. Having Tamiflu on hand provides a layer of comfort, almost like carrying an umbrella when the forecast looks stormy. You might not need it, but when you do, it’s invaluable.
One of Tamiflu’s greatest benefits is its ability to help prevent complications, particularly in older adults or those with underlying conditions. The flu is more than just an inconvenience for people with heart disease, diabetes, or respiratory issues—it can be life-threatening. By slowing down the virus’s ability to reproduce, Tamiflu helps reduce the risk of the infection spreading deeper into the lungs, where it could lead to pneumonia or other severe complications. For many, it’s a way to stay out of the hospital and on the path to recovery at home.
Another important aspect is its use as a preventive measure. When someone close to you comes down with the flu, a spouse, a cabinmate, or even a fellow traveler on a long cruise, it’s often only a matter of time before others follow. But with Tamiflu, there’s a possibility of stopping that chain reaction. When taken as a prophylactic, it can reduce the likelihood of developing the flu even after exposure. It’s not foolproof, but it can make the difference between staying healthy and joining the ranks of the feverish and coughing.
What many people appreciate about Tamiflu is how relatively easy it is to take. It’s available in both capsule and liquid form, and when started early, the side effects are usually mild, sometimes a bit of nausea or a headache, but nothing compared to the agony of full-blown influenza. It’s a reminder that while modern medicine doesn’t have all the answers, it has given us tools that can ease our suffering and speed our return to normal life.
There’s also a psychological benefit that shouldn’t be underestimated. Knowing there’s something you can do, some form of defense, can ease the helplessness that often comes with getting sick far from home. We’ve learned that having a small supply of Tamiflu in our travel medical kit brings peace of mind. When you’re in a foreign country or at sea, where access to medical care can be limited or delayed, that little blister pack can feel like reassurance in tangible form.
Ultimately, Tamiflu doesn’t promise perfection, but it offers hope. It reminds us that even when illness finds us, we’re not entirely at its mercy. Whether taken to lessen the flu’s severity, to prevent its spread, or simply to bring comfort during an uncertain time, Tamiflu remains a valuable ally in the traveler’s arsenal, and for anyone who wants to feel just a little more in control when the flu comes calling.
No words can express how grateful I am that Doc Theo prescribed Tamiflu in the event we started coming down with a virus on the ship. It has, without a doubt, prevented me from a long-term bout with the cruise cough and flu, which started several days ago and is significantly improved.. Please check with your medical professional for assistance with this drug.
Be well.
Photo from ten years ago today, November 8, 2015:
Day 12…Sea days continue…The world of cruising, including an array of demographics…
In 2025, the world of cruising continues to evolve, and nowhere is this more evident than on the ships of Celebrity Cruises and Royal Caribbean. These two lines, while under the same corporate umbrella, attract somewhat different guests, each with distinct motivations and expectations. Yet, they share one powerful commonality: the magnetic pull of the sea and the desire to escape the ordinary. Walking the decks of either line, one quickly senses the diversity of today’s cruising demographic, an ever-expanding tapestry of ages, backgrounds, and stories from around the world.
On Royal Caribbean, the atmosphere is lively and intergenerational, a microcosm of modern travel where families, couples, solo adventurers, and retirees coexist under the same expansive sky. The average age of passengers hovers in the mid-forties, but that number barely scratches the surface of the real story. Parents travel with children, sometimes even with grandparents in tow, making these voyages multi-generational gatherings unlike any other. The newer, larger ships, floating cities in their own right, offer endless opportunities for fun and excitement, attracting thrill-seekers and those seeking a new experience every day. There are rock-climbing walls, surfing simulators, ice-skating rinks, zip lines, and Broadway-style shows. These ships are designed for those who see travel not as an escape but as an adventure.
Celebrity Cruises, by contrast, appeals to a slightly older, more refined demographic. The average age of passengers leans closer to the fifties and sixties, and the pace is gentler, more contemplative. These guests appreciate fine dining, art, culture, and conversation over cocktails at sunset rather than karaoke or game shows. Couples celebrating anniversaries, seasoned travelers who’ve already seen the world, and professionals taking a break from demanding lives fill the elegant spaces onboard. The design of Celebrity’s ships, sleek and modern with thoughtful touches of luxury, mirrors the preferences of its clientele: sophisticated yet not pretentious, polished yet never sterile.
Still, the gap between the two lines is narrowing in fascinating ways. Royal Caribbean’s younger guests are aging into Celebrity’s demographic, bringing with them a love of technology, connectivity, and wellness that is reshaping the luxury cruise experience. At the same time, Celebrity’s efforts to attract a younger audience, through social media outreach, wellness programs, and modern cuisine, are paying off. Millennials and Gen X travelers, many of whom once thought of cruises as something their parents did, are now embracing the ease, value, and quality these voyages offer. Couples in their thirties and forties are booking suites and spa cabins, appreciating the balance between relaxation and exploration.
Both lines are seeing an influx of international passengers. North Americans still make up the majority of guests, but travelers from the UK, Europe, Australia, and Asia have grown significantly. As the world becomes more connected and the cost of long-haul flights continues to stabilize, cruisers are venturing farther afield to join itineraries in the Mediterranean, Asia, South America, and beyond. For many, these cruises serve as floating hotels, offering a familiar comfort while exploring foreign ports. For others, they are a social experience, an opportunity to meet like-minded travelers who share a passion for the world.
Another emerging trend in 2025 is the increasing number of digital nomads and remote workers who choose to sail for months at a time. High-speed internet, once a luxury, has become a lifeline, enabling guests to work from anywhere, even in the middle of the ocean. Celebrity’s quieter, more luxurious setting appeals to those who crave both productivity and tranquility, while Royal Caribbean’s bustling energy suits travelers who prefer to balance work with play. It’s not unusual now to see laptops open at a café overlooking the sea, where someone types away between ports, turning a stateroom into an office with a view.
Cruising has also become more inclusive and accessible. Both Royal Caribbean and Celebrity are welcoming guests from a broader range of economic and cultural backgrounds than ever before. Special promotions, loyalty programs, and flexible itineraries have opened the doors to travelers who once thought cruising was out of reach. Solo cabins, a relatively recent innovation, have also changed the face of the passenger mix, encouraging those who travel alone, by choice or circumstance, to join in the experience without paying the traditional “single supplement.” This shift has added a vibrant new energy on board, as solo travelers bring fresh perspectives and spontaneous friendships.
In the end, the demographics of 2025 tell a story of transformation. Cruising is no longer the preserve of retirees or the wealthy. It has become a reflection of the global traveler, curious, connected, and craving experiences that blend comfort with discovery. On Royal Caribbean, the laughter of children echoes through the promenade while couples dance under the stars. On Celebrity, the clink of wine glasses mingles with the soft hum of conversation in elegant lounges. Together, they capture the full spectrum of modern travel, where age, nationality, and background blur into something shared, a love of the sea, of new horizons, and of the gentle rhythm of life aboard a ship.
Be well.
Photo from ten years ago today, November 7, 2015:
Day 11…sea days continue…Oh no! The dreaded cruise cough!….
It was Tuesday night when I first felt that familiar tickle in my throat, you know…the one that sends a quiet alarm through your body, whispering, something’s coming. Within hours, it progressed to a sore throat, then a cough, and finally to that heavy, sinking feeling of general malaise. My energy drained like a leaky faucet, and all I wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep. By the next morning, I knew without a doubt: I had developed the dreaded “cruise cough.”
This is the ninth day of our voyage, and it’s ironic how fast something so small can take over the experience. Before we boarded, we did everything right, or so we thought. We took our daily supplements religiously: vitamin C, zinc, quercetin, elderberry, and a handful of others. I kept up with cold showers, exercised daily, ate healthily, and made sure to get plenty of rest. And yet, none of it mattered once that invisible stowaway, a germ or virus, found its way into our cabin.
Tom, ever resilient, was the first to show symptoms. On the fifth day of the cruise, he began sneezing and coughing, his voice hoarse but his spirit unfazed. He’s never one to complain, even when feeling under the weather. He rested for a few days, skipped all the sugary foods, drank plenty of water, and by the eighth day, he was completely back to normal. I wish I could say the same. My version of this “cruise cough” has dug in deep, with a persistent tickle that keeps me awake and a fatigue that makes even short walks around the ship feel like an effort.
The “cruise cough” isn’t an official medical diagnosis, of course. It’s a phrase seasoned cruisers use to describe the upper respiratory bug that often spreads like wildfire on ships. Despite the best ventilation systems, diligent cleaning, and constant hand sanitizing, a ship is a floating city with thousands of people sharing confined spaces, elevators, dining rooms, and theaters. All it takes is one person to sneeze in the buffet line or cough into their hand before pressing a button, and the virus begins its quiet circulation through the decks.
So, what can one do to prevent it from getting worse once it’s arrived? I’ve been asking myself that very question as I sip hot tea, the ship rocking gently beneath me. I’ve been taking Tamiflu since yesterday, a precautionary prescription from Doc Theo, “just in case.” Whether it’s the flu, a cold, or something in between, I’m hoping it helps shorten the duration or at least keep it from becoming more serious. The key now is hydration, rest, and patience, three things that sound simple but are surprisingly hard to achieve when the itinerary is full and the excitement of travel still hums in your veins.
There’s also the matter of isolation. I’ve been careful not to attend large gatherings, and we’ve skipped the evening shows and dinners in the main dining room for now. It isn’t enjoyable, of course. After all, cruising is such a social experience. The last thing I’d want is to pass this along to someone else. It’s strange how considerate you become once you’re the one coughing. Every sneeze feels like a public offense.
It’s humbling, really. After years of travel across continents, through jungles, deserts, and cities of every size, I find myself sidelined not by a grand adventure gone wrong, but by a simple cough on a cruise ship. It’s a reminder that even the healthiest routines and the most diligent precautions can’t guarantee immunity when hundreds of different immune systems mingle in close quarters.
For now, I’ll continue resting, take Tamiflu, and drink copious amounts of liquids. I’ll skip the dining room, avoid the buffet crowds, and hope the ocean air helps clear my lungs. Tom, ever attentive, brings me Sprite Zero while reminding me that this, too, shall pass. Goodness, we still have 36 nights of cruising to savor, and I’d like to experience them feeling well.
The “cruise cough” might be an unwelcome companion. Still, it’s also part of the unpredictable rhythm of travel, that reminder that we’re human, fragile, and always at the mercy of the environments we wander through. I suppose all we can do is ride it out, grateful that we’re together, afloat on the wide-open sea, waiting for wellness to return with the next sunrise.
Be well.
Photo from ten years ago today, November 6, 2015:
Day 10, sea days are delightful…
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From today’s issue of Travel+Leisure online magazine, here.
“Tonight’s Supermoon Is the Largest and Brightest of 2025—and It’s the Closest the Moon Has Come to Earth This Year
The golden-hued Beaver Moon arrives Nov. 5—these US parks offer prime viewing. By Published on November 4, 2025
This year’s Beaver Moon will make its starry night debut this week as the biggest and brightest golden-hued supermoon of the year.
To catch the dazzling sight, gaze up at the night sky starting Tuesday, Nov. 4, to witness the closest the moon will be to Earth this year, according to The Old Farmer’s Almanac. The moon will actually reach its peak illumination at 8:19 am. ET on Nov. 5, but it will be below the horizon then, so the best time to view it will be during the evenings of Nov. 4 and 5.
As it rises, the supermoon will glow a deep gold, appearing up to 16 percent brighter and 7 percent larger than usual, according to National Geographic. After this, the moon isn’t expected to appear as large and bright again until November 24, 2026.
The November phenomenon got its playful name since this is the time of year beavers typically start to shelter in their lodges for winter, The Old Farmer’s Almanac noted.
For the best moon gazing, head to one of America’s top Dark Sky parks, protected areas with exceptionally low light pollution, where the night sky is the perfect backdrop for a star show. From the Appalachian Mountains to wide Texas plains, these top Dark Sky sanctuaries offer some of the clearest views in the country, according to research shared with Travel + Leisure from Inghams Walking, a travel company specializing in outdoor adventures.
Mayland Earth to Sky Park and Bare Dark Sky Observatory in North Carolina ranked as the top Dark Sky park in the United States, according to the study. The gem allows enthusiasts to peer through the observatory’s telescope for an intimate look at the lunar rise or set up their own scopes on the park’s flat viewing areas.
Texas’ UbarU Camp and Retreat Center came in next on the list. Once run by a Quaker community, the site remains deeply committed to protecting the wildlife that thrives there.
Tennessee’s Pickett CCC Memorial State Park and Pogue Creek Canyon State Natural Area ranked third in the U.S. First certified as a silver-tier Dark Sky park in 2015, the Pickett CCC Memorial State Park features an astronomy field available year-round.
While the majority of official Dark Sky parks are located in the US, the Waterton-Glacier International Peace Park in Alberta, Canada, actually came in as the top Dark Sky park in the world. Sitting on the border with the US, the park boasts both alpine and glacial features and is “exceptionally rich in plant and mammal species,” according to UNESCO.”
We continue to enjoy sea days, participating in many trivia games, seminars, and various activities. Each evening at 4:30, we arrive at the Crown Lounge, exclusively for Diamond Pus (us) and Pinnacle members. We may never reach Pinnacle, the top-tier loyalty status, but we already enjoy many of its perks. At 7:00 pm, we head to the Main Dining Room on Deck 3 for dinner.
Be well.
Photo from ten years ago today, November 5, 2015:
Day 9, still at sea…What is the tipping situation on this cruise?…
When we first began cruising many years ago, one of the most confusing aspects was understanding how gratuities worked. Every cruise line has its own policy, and over time, those policies evolve. On Royal Caribbean cruises in 2025, gratuities remain an essential part of the onboard experience, both a gesture of appreciation and a vital source of income for the hardworking crew.
Royal Caribbean automatically adds daily gratuities to each passenger’s account. As of 2025, the rate for this cruise is $18.50 per person, per day for guests in standard cabins and $21.00 per person, per day for those in suites. This covers the crew who make our voyage comfortable, the dining staff, stateroom attendants, and behind-the-scenes team members who keep everything running smoothly. The charge is conveniently added to your onboard account, eliminating the need to carry cash or track tips throughout the cruise.
Our total gratuity bill for this 47-night cruise is an additional US $1739 ($18.50 per day x 2 x 47), which is added to our online account and charged to our credit card at the end of the cruise.
While some travelers prefer the old-fashioned way by handing out envelopes of cash at the end of the cruise, the automatic system ensures that every crew member receives their fair share. It’s easy to forget how many invisible hands make a cruise ship feel like a floating home. There are the stewards who quietly tidy our cabins twice a day, the dining room servers who remember our favorite drink, and the countless others who never meet us face-to-face but still play a role in keeping everything spotless and seamless.
Guests can prepay gratuities when booking their cruise, which can simplify budgeting and prevent surprises at the end of the trip. We’ve found this especially helpful when traveling for many weeks at a time. It’s one less line item on the final bill. Prepaying also locks in the current rate, which can be useful if there’s a price increase before your sailing date.
That said, gratuities are not carved in stone. If you receive particularly outstanding service, you can always add an additional tip directly to your onboard account or hand cash to the crew member personally. Conversely, if you experience a service issue, you can request adjustments through Guest Services, though most guests rarely need to. We’ve always found Royal Caribbean’s crew to be warm, attentive, and genuinely eager to please.
In specialty restaurants, bars, and lounges, an automatic 18% gratuity is added to all beverage and dining purchases. When we first started cruising, we used to double-check every receipt, but now we sign and smile, knowing the gratuity is already included. Of course, if someone goes above and beyond—a bartender who remembers your name after one visit, or a waiter who anticipates your dietary needs—a few extra dollars or a heartfelt thank-you goes a long way.
Some cruisers wonder where all these gratuities go. Royal Caribbean’s policy states that the funds are shared among the service team, including dining attendants, stateroom staff, and other key crew members who directly impact guest satisfaction. It’s a collective effort, and the crew’s livelihood depends on these contributions.
We’ve always viewed gratuities not as an obligation but as a form of gratitude. When you consider the long hours, the weeks away from family, and the consistently cheerful service that defines life aboard a Royal Caribbean ship, it feels good to know our small daily contribution makes a meaningful difference.
Over the years, we’ve met many crew members who’ve become familiar faces; some we’ve seen on different ships and itineraries. They remember us, ask about our travels, and share stories about their own journeys. It’s those connections that remind us tipping isn’t just about money, it’s about appreciation and acknowledgment of the human touch that makes every voyage memorable.
So, as we sail through 2025, it’s comforting to know the gratuity system continues to support the very people who make cruising so special. Whether it’s the smile of a room steward greeting you in the hallway or the waiter who ensures your meal is just right each evening, those daily tips are a way of saying, “Thank you for making this feel like home at sea.”
On the flip side, if you feel the overall services have been inferior, you can have the automatic gratuities removed from your final bill. But keep in mind that this will impact service staff you do not interact with, such as kitchen and laundry staff.
Be well.
Photo from ten years ago today, November 4, 2015:
