Epicurean Delight or How to Bust Your Gut

Not much goes on during regular sea days.  Oh, there are the usual activities like bridge and trivial pursuit. And then there is the food.... And marathon eating. Yesterday was the marketplace lunch, a special event whereby you go one of two directions:  you pile your plate high with delectable morsels or you do the survey first to see what looks good and then pile your plate with delectable morsels.  What to choose?

This event is where we get to walk through the kitchen and stop at different stations offering such fare as sushi, pasta, prime rib and fish entrees.  The salad and bread tables were at least 20 feet long and the center of the dining room held magnificent displays of desserts.  Lobster claws and crab legs filled never ending platters.  There was a white and dark chocolate globe of the world with a diameter of four feet – magnificent!  Waiters came around offering champagne and wine. Waiters also carried your plate to your table; maybe they think the plate is too heavy to carry because of all the food piled on top of it.   Only joking, but I find it uncomfortable to have people do what I can do for myself even though it’s their job. 

No one can eat like this for four months. I find that the size of my portions has stabilized to something resembling a reasonable amount. At dinner, I asked for ONE ravioli and got three.  I only ate 1-1/3 of them. I ask for small portions, but they look at you as if you had offended them somehow. I hate to waste food.  I remember my mother telling me to eat everything on my plate because there were starving children in China (or India). Then when you don't clean your plate, they ask if everything was satisfactory. Yep, satisfactory, BUT WAY TOO MUCH [sigh].

On top of all this, we have to host more dinners.  We will have done it three times this week alone.  Dinner doesn't start until 7:45 pm.  At home, I am usually in my PJs, relaxing with some TV before bed.  Here, we don’t get done with dinner until 9:45 pm or 10 pm, and then it is time for the show (which I rarely go to).  This schedule absolutely does not work for us as we have to start the beginner bridge class at 9 am.  Both of us are tired as we have worked seven straight days with three more to go before we get a break and walk on terra firma.

I had to play bridge today and even scored!  Michael has a sore throat from all the talking he has done, and I think the air conditioning doesn't help the throat.  I found out today that I will be doing iPad classes tomorrow and the next day.  They will be by sign up only as they are going to limit the class size due to the room constraints.  I can’t go anywhere without someone asking me a question or how to fix this or that.  They have even started calling my room requesting help!  I get asked all day when and where is the class going to be held.  What in the world have I unleashed? 

We are out somewhere in the middle of the South Pacific.  There is nothing out there to see.  We are over 1,300 miles from the nearest land.  There are no ships.  There is nothing but our vessel and the sea.  I am so thankful that the seas have been kind to us.  The weather has been on the cool side.  We are out here at the mercy of the elements, surrounded by water and sky. We can hear the swish of the ship as it plows through the ocean.  It is a very lonely feeling; very desolate.  I can only image how the sailors of yesteryear, who sailed into parts unknown, felt the isolation and fear of never seeing land again.  With modern technology, we know exactly where we are, but we are just a small blip in a huge ocean.