The luxury yacht we passed as our ship sailed through the channel in Miami to the open sea.

After sleeping for seven hours without awakening during the night, I feel like a new person today after moving to a new cabin last night.

As we traveled through the channel we saw the Norwegian Epic ahead of us.  We’ll be on this ship on our way to Barcelona next Saturday!  Its huge!

After a quiet dinner in the main dining room, we’d decided it would be best if only one of us pressed the customer service desk to give us a new cabin. I volunteered while Tom moseyed over to a nearby bar while I stood impatiently in the long line. (Coincidentally, while at the bar he met a young couple from Maple Grove, Minnesota, only 30 minutes from our old neighborhood. Small world).

Joaquin, our cruise guy was aware of our noisy, drainage-problem cabin from reading our blog, having contacted us by email late yesterday. He was very concerned for us taking the initiative to contact Carnival asking them to move us. They informed him that all of the cabins were booked and we’d have to stay put.

The side view of the enormous Norwegian Epic.

We appreciated Joaquin’s efforts, but we were determined to do whatever it took to move to another cabin in order to get some sleep.  My eyes were bloodshot from only three hours of sleep for four nights and I’d begun to feel out of sorts, comparable to a bad hangover. Having consumed only one beer since boarding the ship on Tuesday, a hangover was not the issue.   

The move was tough. It made no sense to repack all of our unpacked clothes into the remaining five large suitcases. Pulling clothes from hangers, cupboards, and drawers, we hustled while a cabin attendant stood by aimlessly in the hall, waiting for us to hand over our “stuff” as he loaded it onto his cart.

After three trips between the old and new cabins, everything was moved.  By midnight we finished unpacking, exhausted but relieved to finally be in a quiet room. The sink drained when I brushed my teeth before bed;  while this morning the shower water drained nicely. 

This ferry pulled past us with passengers sitting in their vehicles waving at us. Notice the stretch limo in the middle of the vehicles.

Today, anchored a few miles from shore at Half Moon Cay, the Bahamas, the tender boats are taking passengers to the cruise line owned beach and shops.  Once again, we’ve opted to stay onboard having made a definitive decision to avoid gimmicky man-made cruise line owned “spending” traps. 

This morning, after a great breakfast of “real egg” omelets with mushrooms, onions, and cheese, bacon and sausage, we were content to roam around the ship, go to the health club for my workout, eventually working our way to the pool. Lasting only 45 minutes in the scorching sun, we went to the Serenity Lounge, and in the shaded outdoor area with comfy chairs and fabulous views. It is from this vantage point that I write now.

All of our accumulated snail mail was included in the box of supplies we received at UPS yesterday, most of which were either retirement documents, our new health insurance documents, or duplicates of financial information we’d already reviewed online. 

The cost to ship the two large bags to my sister Julie in LA, totaling 102 pounds, was $202, including the $10 charge for the 24-hour storage of our incoming box of supplies, plus postage for a document that we signed on the spot, to be sent to London for our health insurance.

Prior to leaving the US, we had requested that all mail be sent to us online as opposed to the necessity of our paying our mailing service to scan or snail mail it to us.  Some complied, others did not.  In this age of technology, there’s no need for paper. And yet many companies insist on a “paperful” relationship with their customers. 

Yesterday, we scanned everything we needed to keep placing it in the appropriate folders in our Dropbox cloud while using our tried and true “shredding process” of soaking the paper in water, rolling it into little balls, subsequently tossing the little balls. Considerate of being on a ship, we didn’t flush the tiny balls instead we tossed them into the trash.

With our new camera still in the box, today we’ll begin the process of learning how to use it. For once, I plan to read the instruction booklet.  Hopefully, within a few days, we’ll notice a further improvement in the quality of our photos.  

For the next six days, we’re feeling settled and content. From time to time, my mind
wanders back to Placencia, Belize, our little villa on the ocean, the friends we made, the simple life we lived, and the memories we will carry with us forever.