My first 24 years were spent growing or struggling up in the “smoke” as we used to colloquially call it – London. The expectancy of the ‘60s developed into the dreariness of the ‘70s and, after some tough familial experiences, I graduated from University College London with a Bachelor of Science degree in Experimental Psychology (about as useful as an ash tray on a motor bike!). My heart was in entertainment, however (I discovered a talent for singing almost overnight at the age of 16) and I longed to be involved in theatre or in the leisure business. After a couple of years working in various (and some dubious) theatrical productions, I found myself in a Christmas show in Glasgow, of all places, in the dead of winter 1983.

I’m sure you get the picture. Twenty-four years of questionable weather, a challenging family situation with a single mother raising three boys, career confusion … then suddenly fate, being what it is, plucked me from this world and transported me to the world of cruising and to what has become my greatest love – the ocean.

It wasn’t exactly that dramatic, but it was quick. I auditioned and interviewed for a position as Assistant Cruise Director for P&O Princess Cruises in London in March 1984.One month later, I found myself basking in California sunshine in Pasadena rehearsing seven production shows. You can imagine how exciting and life-changing an experience this was for a naïve young man who, with the exception of a few desultory weekend trips to the British “seaside” with an umbrella, had never travelled very much at all.

Now life was starting to change.  I was suddenly in the world of “Starsky and Hutch,” “Charlie’s Angels” and … “The Love Boat.”  Early ‘80s California … heaven!  But the best was yet to come – my first meeting with the ocean.

I boarded the original Love Boat, Pacific Princess, in Acapulco on May 3, 1984, and I will never forget that first departure. Resplendent in my new blue blazer and white pants, I leaned against the railing and watched as Pacific Princess glided away from picturesque Acapulco Bay. It was evening and the vastness of the horizon, the inky night sky and endless sapphire waters made me think, this must be what eternity looks like. Just imagine how I felt. At last, I had found my home and my calling. I spent the next six years working on all of the Princess ships, never tiring of the chattering gulls, the scent of sea spray, the light upon the water at different times of day and the opportunity to meet so many different people brought together by this love of traveling by sea. My life literally changed.

Every journey has a departure point, that moment when you leave the embrace of the familiar and venture toward the unknown. On land, the significance of a departure often passes without notice, weighed down by the draining effects of crowded airports and highway traffic.

Rai and his mother, Jo Jo, aboard Island Princess in Vancouver, 1984.

Not so for journeys that begin at sea. They never fail to fill me with a sense of joy and grand occasion about the majesty of the Earth and the geographic – and personal – voyage to come.

After almost 28 years at Princess, I remain as transfixed by the incredible power and beauty of the Earth’s oceans every time I am fortunate enough to sail onboard, as I was as a young man on his first sea adventure.

I think of myself as a quintessential example of someone who ran away to sea … and stayed.

My sojourn at sea lasted until 1989 when I was asked to work ashore at the Princess Cruises headquarters in Century City, Los Angeles. Despite my reluctance to leave the sea, I was excited by the prospect of joining the corporate side of a burgeoning business. There were new ships coming and I knew I would have the chance to return to the sea many times in the future.

When I think about the many sailings I have taken since starting my shore-based job, the moments that are most profound to me are when the ship is surrounded by water with no shore in sight, no land ahead.

On transatlantic crossings, for example, there is a point where the safety of the home port is further away than the destination ahead. It’s the legendary point of no return, the dividing line between past and future. Whenever I reach that point, all those sayings about living in the moment come to mind and I realize this – finally – is it.

I find a quiet spot to stand on deck and gaze at the wilderness of sea and sky. The ocean stills. There are no sounds but the pulse of sea along stern. I realize even my friends the gulls, who have accompanied the ship since port, have abandoned ship, for they must keep shore within the range of their wings.

For now, the glittering sea is my home. I realize how cathartic it is to stand along the balcony, walk the promenade deck or sit quietly on a steamer chair and fall into this state of serenity. I am truly away.

A gorgeous sunset at sea.

I feel a kinship with my fellow travelers. My mind drifts and I wonder if the great explorers, the merchant ship captains and immigrants to the New World, feared or favored their points of no return.

Yet every cruise, every journey must come to an end. As exhilarating as it has been, arrivals are beautiful, too.

I have my favorites. The view of the Golden Gate Bridge on the approach to San Francisco is one. The subdued sunlight reflects on the water, enveloping the bridge and the hillside city at its base in an almost tangible glow.

Istanbul is another. The Aegean Sea cascades through the Dardanelles, which funnel into the Sea of Marmara, which connects to the Bosporus and beyond. These saltwater passageways pass through ancient and modern, east and west, reminding me that the water – Earth is almost 71 percent water­­ – connects us all.

My home port of Los Angeles may not rank as one of the most beautiful to visit, but it always brings a rush of happiness as I will soon reunite with family and friends.

Still, before long, I am called to return. As months on land pass by I will be sitting at my desk, phone pinned to ear, eyes scanning email, and find myself dreaming about revisiting the sea – the momentous, magnificent open sea.  I have been honoured and fortunate to have grown up with Princess and my current position enables me to visit our ships often. Despite the challenges of overseeing the operations of 16 ships and planning for our two new ships in 2013 and 2014, I will never tire of the excitement of sailing on a magnificent ship at sea.

I choose to end with a quote from my friend John Maxtone Graham, a world-renowned maritime historian who, with his wife, Mary, spends many days of the year at sea with Princess regaling passengers with a plethora of nautical anecdotes and dramatisations of famous moments in maritime history.

Rai recently on the bridge of Island Princess with Captain Bommarco, left, and Gavin MacLeod, aka "Captain Stubing."

Perhaps the perfect moment of every Atlantic crossing materializes a day or two out of New York or Florida. Cares detached firmly ashore, one is cocooned in a marvelous mid-ocean limbo, rejoicing in a splendidly comfortable and perfect conveyance. The bow rises and falls as day follows languorous day. Ocean breezes caress the decks, there is bouillon at eleven and tea at four, in-between indulgences for the three stupendous dining room meals. There are books to absorb, siestas to surrender to, films and shows to enjoy and, perhaps most rewarding of all, genial fellow passengers with stories and reminiscences to share. Happily, Europe is still several days away.

I have always felt that no adventure awaiting me there ever outweighs the delights of our passage achieving landfall. Perhaps that word says it all – land equates with a fall or lowering of spirits; I disembark with unfailing regret.

In this, our final story, we pay tribute to the ocean – the ultimate essential experience.

Do it … run away to sea … now!

Larry and his wife, Freda

Who calls at 2:09 a.m. unless it’s an emergency? So my mind started racing and my heart began pounding as I tried to overhear the conversation taking place between my wife and the telephone pressed against her ear.

Within seconds she merely said, “thank you,” returned the phone to the receiver, threw the covers back and told me to “get out of bed, grab a blanket and follow me!”

“Is there a fire?” I asked as I meekly obeyed her commands. “Just get a blanket and follow me,” is all she would say.

I pulled the top blanket off the bed as instructed. She was already out of the door, into the hallway, heading downstairs to the exit.

Upon exiting the building we were met with temperatures hovering around 25 degrees F. I very quickly understood the need for the blanket.

The Northern Lights put on quite a show.

And just as quickly I understood why we were standing in the parking lot of the Princess lodge in Fairbanks, Alaska at 2:11 a.m.: the Northern Lights!

We had asked to have our names added to the “watch list” in order to be notified if the Northern Lights became visible. And they were now putting on a show that would pale any production ever created by man.

The night sky over Alaska shimmered in greens and blues and colors I can’t describe. The display lasted for well over 30 minutes, by which time we were shivering, teeth chattering but oblivious to any physical conditions.

The Northern Lights experience was all consuming: we were only aware of the sky and splendor we were witnessing.

Our trip to the Arctic Circle and the cruise from Vancouver had been an adventure equal to none, but the gift of the Northern Lights was the “coup de gras.”

I wanted to thank Princess but as proficient as they are at customer satisfaction, I’m pretty confident they had nothing to do with ‘turning the lights on’!

Fairbanks Princess Riverside Lodge

Being a longtime cruise writer, I have had the privilege of experiencing many of the world’s great ports. But not all – never will I see them all. And Iceland has long been on my must-see list.

Cindy and her husband, Chet, at the Gullfoss Waterfall

Just a few weeks ago, on Sept. 19, that finally happened. My husband, Chet, and I arrived in Reykjavik aboard Emerald Princess on its repositioning cruise across the North Atlantic from Copenhagen to Ft. Lauderdale.

Our stay in Iceland was simply magical. I was a bit concerned that we were only going to be here for less than a day, but we weren’t disappointed.

We were fortunate to be on a private tour, which enabled us to see a lot more in a short time. Emerald Princess docked about an hour early, at 11 a.m., which gave us a tad more time. We were met at noon by our guides, Bjarni and Linda, in their Super Jeep…a huge vehicle with four-foot tires that are very popular here for exploring the wilderness.

The first magical thing we discovered is that we were out of the city and into the “moorland” within a scant 20 minutes. We were heading to see the Golden Circle … a trio of natural attractions within two hours of Reykjavík. The moorland is gently rolling terrain that is very rocky and covered with small willows, lichen and other low-growing plants. Being autumn, these were of all colors.

The gently rolling Icelandic terrain offered magical scenery.

The second magical thing was the amazing light. All afternoon it would rain one moment and the sun would shine the next. This created a glowing, soft light that enhanced the landscape and made for gorgeous photos. Of course, this also created amazing rainbows…we saw several, each lovelier than the last.

Then there’s the sparkling clear water in the many pools and streams. It’s clean enough to drink.

Another magical aspect of Iceland is its dynamism…with volcanoes, hot springs, glaciers and earth rifts, you are constantly aware of an environment in flux. Earthquakes happen rather frequently here. This is a part of the Earth that is alive with energy…geothermal energy to be specific, but more on that later.

Our first stop was at Thingvellir (Þingvellir), a national park where two of the Earth’s plates are actually pulling away from each other at the rate of about an inch a year, leaving large gaps and chasms. According to Bjarni, this is one of the only places on Earth where this happens…on most faults, the plates are pushing upon each other.

The Strokkur Geyser is the only one in the country to spout on a regular basis.

From the visitors center, you can see the walls of the valley created by this rift. A World Heritage Site, this valley has great significance in the history of Iceland as it’s where the first general assembly, or Alϸingi, was assembled in 930 AD and the islanders convened here yearly for about three weeks to hear the law, settle differences, arrange marriages and conduct trade. It was here that the Icelanders adopted the Christian religion in 1000 AD. Court proceedings continued here until 1798 and the Republic of Iceland was formed here in 1944.

From here we proceeded through more mountainous terrain to Geysir country (the English word “geyser” comes from Icelandic.) We stopped in an area of blowholes, steaming craters and watched as the Strokkur geyser erupts. This is currently the only Icelandic geyser that blows on a regular basis, about every six minutes. However, Bjarni and Linda point out that new hot springs, blowholes and geysers appear after each earthquake!

Super Jeeps are popular for off road touring

Not too far from here we made our third stop, and perhaps the most impressive: the Gullfoss waterfall. In a country full of waterfalls, it’s said to be the most beautiful and it’s certainly the most accessible to visitors. Although not as large as Niagara, its many levels are quite spectacular…and this day, we enjoyed a rainbow over it. There are numerous wooden walkways to viewpoints, or you can walk down to near the base.

From there we headed over to see how Reykjavík’s electricity and hot water is produced. They showed us how deep wells are dug into the ground, which produce steam under incredible pressure. This steam is sent to a geothermal energy facility which converts it into electricity and hot water which is pumped to the city. No fossil fuels are used and the process is pollution-free.

There are many hydropower plants in Iceland and seven geothermal energy facilities. After showing us the wells at their source, they took us to the Geothermal Energy  Exhibition at the Hellisheidi Geothermal Power Plant, just outside of Reykjavík.

The steeple of Reykjavik's iconic symbol, Hallgrímskirkja church, can bee seen from everywhere in town.

Then we drove back into Reykjavík for a short tour. This is a lovely small city with a big place in history. It was here in 1986 that U.S. President Ronald Reagan and Mikhail Gorbachev, head of the USSR, met in an historic wood building on the waterfront (still preserved) and developed an agreement that would end the Cold War. It’s a nice mix of old and new and easy to walk around. Whale-watching tours depart from its harbor from May through September.

There are many cafes and excellent restaurants. We ate dinner at the Sjávargrillid Seafood Grill, enjoying Arctic char, catfish and lamb. It’s located near the city’s iconic symbol, the Hallgrímskirkja church (95 percent of the people are Lutheran.)

We were back to the ship around 9 p.m., plenty early for the all-aboard of 10:30 p.m. and full of memories of this quirky yet lovely place. One quirk is that everyone’s last name is taken from their father’s (or mother’s) first name: Therefore, my name in Icelandic would be Cynthia Seelysdόttir. Chet’s would be Chester Carlosson

I’m anxious to return and do still more. I would like to swim in the famous hot springs at the Blue Lagoon (many from the ship did that) and I would love to spend several hours exploring the city on foot. Maybe we would go river-rafting, hiking, horseback riding, whale-watching, take a Jeep trip to the ice cap or go out and shoot more photos in that extraordinary light.

This year, Iceland had 70 ship calls, welcoming 65,000 passengers. Next year, they will be receiving more than 100,000, many of those from Princess ships.

The current advertising slogan for Iceland says “Come and Be Inspired by Iceland” and I can only agree. It is, indeed, inspiring.

Cynthia Boal Janssens is editor and chief blogger at AllThingsCruise.com

Of course, most honeymoons would be described as romantic, but I think that San Francisco meets the criteria in a unique way. A hillside city that tumbles onto a scenic coastline–how could that not inspire romance?

There is also something intangible about San Francisco that captures the senses. I think it’s the very light that fills you with emotion. From the amber glow of the sun on the Golden Gate Bridge at sunset, which warms the senses, to the chilly fog that suddenly sweeps in off the water and makes you want to cuddle close, the city has an ambience that plays to couples.

There’s an adventurous facet to San Francisco that is also romantic. I realize that Alcatraz Island–the famous former prison that was guarded in part by shark-filled waters–and the heart-skipping hills that seem like roller coasters don’t fit most people’s definition of “romantic.” But San Francisco’s daring edge increases your pulse and draws you closer to your partner.

Then, the city’s famous restaurants, waterside parks, walkways and scenic views (the view from the top of the hill at Twin Peaks Boulevard, for one) would bring out the romantic in anyone.

My husband Tom and I celebrated our honeymoon in San Francisco 14 years ago, almost to the day. My mother gave us the trip as a wedding gift. Because Tom runs his own business, we had little time to spare. It was a brief, golden getaway, just three nights, with two spent on a cruise from Vancouver and one in San Francisco. But I think its brevity, its fast, few days, made us appreciate every moment that much more.

Lisa and her husband, Tom, on their wedding day - a week before their honeymoon to San Francisco.

Tom and I both grew up in Los Angeles’ San Fernando Valley.  We married in Valencia, Calif., in a joyful celebration, but due to business commitments, we had to wait a week for our honeymoon so we were anxious to go.

There are variations in vacation styles. There’s the adventurous vacation, which would most certainly describe my husband’s style, and then there’s the more refined, which sums up my preferred method. Tom is all about Harley rides and motorhomes. I, being introduced to cruising by my parents years before, appreciate the comforts of a vacation at sea.

Our honeymoon was definitely more my style, but Tom has more than made up for that in the intervening years, as I have spent many days touring the southwest on the back of a motorcycle!

It was a charmed trip. Our flight to Vancouver was unexpectedly upgraded to first class; I remember enjoying champagne on the flight north. A limousine whisked us from the airport to the ship, and once we were on board Regal Princess the purser, Sue, had a surprise in store: another upgrade to a coveted balcony cabin, where champagne on ice and chilled shrimp awaited.

Our two days on the ship were relaxing and fun. The Pacific Northwest coastline is absolutely beautiful, but nothing topped approaching San Francisco by sea. The Golden Gate Bridge, said to be one of the most photographed sights on earth, links San Francisco to picturesque Marin County. Sailing underneath this beautiful, deep-red bridge heightened our anticipation of the city to come.

A San Francisco cable car with Alcatraz in the background.

While some ports drop you off miles from town, in San Francisco you dock at the busy Embarcadero, near the nexus of Fisherman’s Wharf. This is a touristy spot for sure, but it has its signature experiences. For one, the sea lions lazing along the pier, seemingly oblivious to the busy waterway behind them and the multitudes of camera-toting visitors in front of them, are a blast to watch. The seafood stalls along the wharf, selling freshly caught crab and shrimp cocktails, are pure San Francisco, too.

We hopped into another limo and headed to our hotel, the venerable St. Francis, a city landmark with a dramatic, marble-pillared lobby, located on Union Square. To get there from the wharf, we traversed a series of steep hills, skirting Nob Hill and Chinatown, just two of San Francisco’s eclectic neighborhoods.

With just a day to spend, Tom and I quickly checked into our suite and returned to the city streets. We took a cable car back to Fisherman’s Wharf and had lunch at Scoma’s, a longstanding, family-run seafood place on the water. The New England-style clam chowder was fantastic and the pier-side table offered incredible views of the bay.

We walked off lunch by heading to Ghirardelli Square, the former site of the Ghirardelli chocolate factory and now a pretty place to shop, dine or have a drink. The square is located near a cable car hub, so we caught one for another precipitous ride back up the hill to Union Square.  Our time in San Francisco wouldn’t have been complete without a cab ride up Telegraph Hill to Coit Tower and down the winding, crooked Lombard Street that runs through stately Russian Hill.

Another view of the Golden Gate Bridge.

The next morning we were on our way to the airport and back to work and reality. It was a whirlwind honeymoon for sure, but the perfect wedding gift, enjoyable down to the second.

Over the ensuing 14 years, Tom’s and my vacation preferences remain the same. He likes quick, rugged, three-day bike vacations, while I love to travel the world by cruise ship, now with our 12-year-old daughter, Emily. Marriage definitely requires compromise.

Reminding myself to pursue my more adventurous mother’s philosophy of life–to die living rather than live as if you were dying–I cautiously board the back of the Harley and speed off for desert overnights. In turn, Tom also takes quick domestic cruises with Emily and me when his business allows.

We haven’t returned to San Francisco since our honeymoon, but it occurs to me that a bike ride along the Pacific Coast and into San Francisco is a vacation that could only delight both of our vacation styles. There’s always our 15th anniversary to plan.

Patty enjoyed a drink at Cheers

Caribbean Princess anchored in Boston, Massachusetts on a bright, sunny day with just a nip of fall in the air.

While there were many shore excursions to choose from, we selected a walking tour of part of the Freedom Trail.  The Freedom Trail is a red brick path through downtown Boston that links important local historical landmarks.  It is a chance to learn about events as the people worked to gain independence from Great Britain.

We boarded a bus at the pier that took us to the start of our walking tour.  My sister’s job was to take pictures while I absorbed as much history as I could.

Boston's Old State House

We found Boston to be such an interesting city, with the contrast of small, pre-Revolutionary War buildings nestled in the shadows of modern skyscrapers.

We had an excellent tour guide who made history come alive for us.  We walked to many historical sites including the Old North Church, Paul Revere House, Faneuil Hall, site of the Boston Massacre, Old State House, Old South Meeting House, statue of Benjamin Franklin, King’s Chapel and King’s Chapel Burying Ground, Granary Burying Ground, Park Street Church, Massachusetts State House and Boston Common.

We especially enjoyed the Granary Burying Ground, one of the oldest historic sites in Boston.  Granary Burying Ground is where Samuel Adams, John Hancock, Paul Revere, James Otis and victims of the Boston massacre were buried.  

Along the way we heard lively stories of statesmen such as Paul Revere and Samuel Adams.  We walked by several taverns including The Bell in Hand Tavern, established in 1795, which is America’s oldest tavern. 

The Bell in Hand Tavern -- America's oldest tavern

After the tour, my sister and I explored Faneuil Hall and Quincy Market on our own.  Shopping is a breeze at Faneuil Hall and Quincy Market.  Faneuil Hall was built in 1794.  Today Faneuil Hall and Quincy Market contain 49 shops, 44 pushcarts and 18 full-service restaurants.

We relaxed from our long walk at Cheers, “where everybody knows your name”.  Since we like to think of ourselves as beer enthusiasts, we ordered Sam Adams Boston Brick Red.  This beer is only available at select bars in the Boston area and only on tap.  After we finished our beers, the bartender told us we could take our mugs as souvenirs of our trip.

I have enjoyed all of our cruises and have enjoyed learning of the history and culture of the various countries we have visited.  However, I was appreciative of being able to revisit American history.  This shore excursion brought back memories of school history lessons and patriotism.  I would definitely recommend this walking tour.

The bricks that mark the Freedom Trail

As our cruise ship skirted the coldest place on earth—itself a destination for the bucket list—we talked excitedly about one day going to Cambodia’s long-hidden temple city, Angkor Wat.

I have explored many far-flung places with my friends Mindy, Randy and Kathy—China, Tibet, Machu Picchu and more.  We travel well together because we share the same philosophy about travel: to journey far and wide, to go deep into the countries we visit, and to get as close as possible to the locals and their lives as they’d allow.

That was our goal when we ventured to Cambodia last April.  Cambodia’s incredible, moat-ringed temple of Angkor Wat was our primary destination although the country itself, so different from our own, was of great interest, too.  As we flew into the capital city of Phnom Penh, where we would stay for a few days before heading to the Angkor region, I checked my hand luggage for Teddy.

We were joined by a special guest, one of my mom’s teddy bears.  Mom had passed away only two months before and this was my way of remembering her and the annual cruise we took.  She also loved to travel, so perhaps she passed along the travel bug to me.  On my more exotic trips she enjoyed reliving my experiences through the photos I’d share with her.  Now, Teddy was part of the team.  He was our special mascot and tribute to my mom.

It was not quite the rainy season, and Phnom Penh was very hot.  Clearly, motorbikes were the preferred mode of transportation—they were everywhere.  The food was a delicious blend of French colonial and traditional local.  For breakfast, our hotel served exceptional croissants and baguettes alongside the typical rice congee, with dried fish, pickled vegetables and salted eggs.  There is also an Indian influence to Cambodian food evident in the flavorful curries.

Ankor Wat Temple.

Then we traveled from bustling modern to the ancient and mysterious, as we boarded a bus from Phnom Penh to Siem Reap, the gateway to the Angkor region.  Here we were met by a guide who proved to be an Angkor expert and prepared us for the many incredible wonders we would soon experience.

Angkor Wat was built in the early 12th century, originally as a Hindu shrine, but gradually became Buddhist as the monarchs adopted the new religion.  It took four hundred years to complete and this complex, which is regarded as the world’s largest religious building, was the center of the Khmer civilization for centuries.  However, it was largely abandoned and hidden by the forest when the Khmer monarchy built a new capital city in Phnom Penh.  The site was rediscovered by the West in the mid-19th century by French explorer Henri Mouhot.  By the turn of the 20th century, worldwide curiosity had built a thriving tourist trade.

Unfortunately years of civil war and hardships under the Khmer Rouge regime from the 1970s through the 1990s made the country difficult to visit, and Angkor Wat lay off the tourist routes until recent years.  But now this amazing place is once again on “must see” lists and has been designated a UNESCO World Heritage site.

Vicki, Teddy and Mindy at Banteay Kdei Temple, in the Ankor Wat complex.

In the two days we were there, my travel group and I eagerly covered as much territory as possible.  In addition to Angkor Wat, we visited the ancient city of Angkor Thom, the gemlike Banteay Srei and the mysterious and lovely jungle temple of Ta Prohm.

The visit involved a lot of walking and explaining by the guide.  Every step of the way, mascot Teddy was in my arms or travel pack.  The temperatures must have been approaching 100 degrees, so it took some stamina, too.  But to my intrepid travel team, it was all worth it.

Angkor Wat was reclaimed from the jungle and today still seems to emerge as a surprise on the landscape. First there is tumbling green foliage, then the giant moat that buffers Angkor Wat, then Angkor Wat itself, topped by five carved towers.

The temple is covered in stunning carvings that tell the story of wars, royalty and the gods so integral to the region.  We were free to walk through the compound and study the amazing carvings, but with so many stories depicted on the sandstone walls, it would take a lifetime to absorb them all.  As I wandered among the extensive bas-reliefs portraying everything from conquests to everyday life, I tried to imagine what it was like to be in Angkor Wat during its prime a thousand years ago.

Our guide also took us to Angkor Thom, an ancient, gated city that served as a capital and royal home at one time, and from there to Ta Prohm, another nearby temple.  The desolation is beautiful here.  Banyan trees engulf buildings; roots drape over walls and grasp hold of roofs.  The sculpted temples are cocooned by jungle, very much the way parts of Angkor Wat itself were in the 19th century.

These scenes are a great reminder of how remote this area became.  But lately these locations have also been starring in the movies—if you saw “Lara Croft: Tomb Raider,” you saw Ta Prohm and Angkor Thom.

Out of all the carvings our group noticed in the Angkor region, one at Ta Prohm stands out the most.  It is a representation of a stegosaurus.  Even the guide was stumped.  Were there creatures like that in the Angkor of 900 years ago or was this a mythological beast of some kind?  Nobody knows.

Vicki, Mindy and Teddy at Baneay Srei Temple.

Banteay Srei, an even older temple than Angkor Wat, also stunned our group.  This 10th century “jewel of Khmer art” features more dramatic carvings, for sure, but its impact really comes from its red sandstone that creates such a contrast with the green of the jungle.

The beauty was unbelievable.  As is our custom, we all took many pictures that we’d email to each other later.  Everyone made sure that Teddy was in photos taken of me.

These ancient wonders opened our eyes to a long-ago civilization, but my visit to Cambodia also made me appreciate the strength of the people of today.  One of our bus drivers told us the story of how she survived the genocide of the 1970s as a 17-year-old and spent 14 years in a Vietnamese refugee camp.  It was stories such as these that made us realize how much this land has gone through, and appreciate how much history lay behind the friendly people who helped us on our journey.

I also felt lucky to have taken this journey with my dear travel friends—and we even met some potential new members of our group during our Angkor Wat adventure.  Like- minded souls, our potential group of six (seven counting Teddy) are talking about visiting Borneo or Eastern Europe.

Until that day comes, we’re still reliving the amazing images and experiences of Angkor Wat and one of my most memorable “bucket list” experiences.  And I’m glad Teddy has been initiated into my travel circle.  He’s my reminder that my mom still travels with me.

The untouched, spectacular beauty of Alaska deeply impressed me, and as my flight home from Anchorage took off over the snow-capped Wrangell-St. Elias mountain range, my fate was sealed.  I knew with absolute certainty that I would come back to this place.  I had not seen Mt. McKinley, the tallest mountain in North America.  I wondered, though, how I would afford to return.

Two months later I began my first day of employment as a district sales manager with Princess Cruises, where I would have the opportunity to share my knowledge of and enthusiasm for Alaska.  And, since we offer land tours into the interior of Alaska, I knew one day I’d be able to see Mt. McKinley.

It was three years and one month later when I finally set my eyes on this great 20,320-foot mountain, the centerpiece of Denali National Park and Preserve.  The mountain was named after President William McKinley in 1897, but most locals refer to it by its native Athabaskan name:  Denali, meaning “the high one.”

In 1913, a four-man team led by Harry Karstens (who later became the park’s first superintendent) reached the summit of Denali.  Harry’s team included Walter Harper, an Alaskan native, and he was the first man to set foot on the summit.  Since then, more than 16,000 climbers have reached the summit and twice as many have attempted the climb but turned back.  When I first saw the mountain, I knew that I’d never climb it but I’d never tire of gazing up at its majesty.

Denali, the tallest mountain in North America, standing at 20,320 feet.

Denali National Park and Preserve encompasses 6 million acres of forest, taiga, tundra, glaciers, rock and snow.  It’s also home to a healthy population of grizzly bears, black bears, caribou, moose and Dall sheep.  The park has its own rhythm of movement that changes with the seasons and has influenced my life in one way or another with each subsequent visit.

Closest to my heart, my Alaska story leads to love.  As my passion for this place increased over the years, I have the 49th state to thank for introducing me to my husband, Barry, also a lover of the “Great Land.”

I was doing the online dating game when I came across his profile picture.  Before I noticed his handsome face I was drawn to the backdrop of his photo, which was a glacial terrain.  I immediately asked him, “Was this photo taken in Alaska?”  That question and his “yes” response opened a dialogue that resulted in our marriage.  He had also visited Alaska and longed to return.

So, it was fitting that we honeymooned in the interior of Alaska, visiting three of our lodges – Copper River Princess Wilderness Lodge to fish for salmon; Denali Princess Wilderness Lodge so we could visit the park and see Mt. McKinley; and Kenai Princess Wilderness Lodge, to experience the Kenai Fjords.

Judy and her husband, Barry, on their honeymoon at the Kenai Princess Wilderness Lodge.

First, we visited the Copper River Princess Wilderness Lodge near Copper Center, where we fished for King salmon on the Gulkana River.  As luck would have it, I got a bite — a big bite!  I caught a 40-inch, 25-pound King that neither my husband nor the outfitter would help me reel in so in the end when I landed the huge fish, I’d truly caught it all by myself!

Our next stop was the Denali Princess Wilderness Lodge, just moments away from the entrance to Denali National Park.  Although I’d been there before, this time we’d travel all the way to the end of the park’s 92-mile road in Kantishna.  This roundtrip excursion would take 12 hours as we passed through the most pristine wilderness in our National Park System.  Our guide drew us into the heart of Alaska with knowledge and insight that only 25 years of experience could foster.  My husband had insisted upon bringing a heavy, high-powered pair of binoculars that, I reminded him, would have to be carried in our hand luggage.  But as we focused in on bears frolicking in the underbrush and Dall sheep scaling the craggy cliffs, I was thrilled.

Wonder Lake, at the end of the road to Kantishna in Denali National Park & Preserve.

The animals were second only to the moment when we turned the corner at the end of the road in Kantishna to gaze at Wonder Lake.  I recognized the view from the famous Ansel Adams shot of the reflection of Denali in the lake.  As we left the park that evening, we were tired but filled with the certainty of knowing this vast wilderness would always remain just that.

It’s a gigantic park and 400,000 people have the opportunity to visit it every year.  Due to the genius of the National Park System, guides driving school buses carry us all in, teach us to understand and appreciate what we’re seeing, and carry us back out to our own worlds with lighter hearts and broader minds.

What could top a King catch and an inspiring day in Denali?  Yet another of Alaska’s national parks: Kenai Fjords National Park.

We took off from the Kenai Princess Wilderness Lodge, located at the end of the Kenai Peninsula, to head for one of our nation’s few water-based national parks.  This park is abundant with spectacular scenery, glaciers and every type of marine wildlife Alaska has to offer, including sea otters, puffins, seals, dolphins  and, of course, whales.

Humpback whales engaging in cooperative feeding in the Kenai Fjords.

The highlight of the day was observing whales engaging in cooperative feeding, an activity that had never before been recorded by scientists in this area.  The naturalist commentating from the bridge explained that this activity was accomplished by several humpback whales working together.  One whale creates a bubble screen that confuses and immobilizes the fish. Then, all together, the other whales dive through the bubbles with mouths open to scoop up the fish.  We saw four whales jump into the air with their mouths open!  We left the boat mesmerized, a little sunburned and once again deeply moved by Alaska’s natural wonders.

In most men’s wallets you’ll find nice posed pictures of their wives.  My husband carries a picture of me with my King.  No one could argue that we’re a match made in heaven — our relationship was sparked by a place that could easily be considered heaven on earth.

Following my bucket-list dream influenced my whole life.  It led me to a rewarding career and a wonderful husband. What will you miss if you don’t pursue your bucket list?

Lynette with a pirate at Blackbeard's Castle

After boarding the ship in Fort Lauderdale and settling in, we rushed to the back deck to watch as we pulled away from port.  As this was the first cruise for my friend Libby, the sailaway was one of many Princess Cruises “firsts” she would enjoy on our trip. 

We all enjoyed so many experiences on this vacation – including snorkeling at Princess Cays as well as day on St Maarten where we even went parasailing!  

But for me the highlight was St. Thomas, because here I could finally live my Caribbean dream. 

We started the day with an island tour where we enjoyed amazing views from Skyline Drive, looking back at Charlotte Amalie harbor and the Caribbean Sea.  Truly breathtaking vistas!

At Blackbeard’s Castle we learned about the island’s legacy of piracy, and got to see the world’s largest collection of life-sized pirates made from copper and bronze. 

These life-like pirates even included Jack Sparrow from the “Pirates of the Caribbean” movies.   The watchtower here was supposedly used by Blackbeard himself, but who knows for sure….

The complex also features many other interesting historic homes and buildings, many dating back to the 1600s.  I was also fascinated by the Caribbean World Amber Museum, which chronicles the creation of amber – and supposedly has the largest collection in the world.  The beautiful Amber Waterfall captured my attention – it’s basically a two-story wall of 12,000 amber pieces from all over the world.

Lynette's "true relaxation" at Magens Bay

But then it was time to head to my most anticipated spot — Magens Bay.  I’d been waiting so long to relax on its white sand and look out over the crystal blue waters. When we arrived at the beach, I could not believe I was really here! I simply stood in awe at this beautiful view and let it take my breath away.  I could certainly see why so many people have called this one of the world’s best beaches.

Here we all settled in for the ultimate leisure.  There’s really nothing like a lounge chair on the sand, a cool drink and a gorgeous view!

To remember the moment, I had my good friend Libby take a picture of me showing true relaxation at the beach.  This photo has now become my computer screen saver and continues to remind me of peace and beauty that our world has to offer.

Cricket has enabled me to travel to many parts of the world, such as England, Scotland, New Zealand, India, Pakistan, The West Indies, Nepal, The Nederlands, Denmark, Malta, Ireland, Sri Lanka and Zimbabwe.

Bob with Dawn Princess

But my favourite destination is Bermuda, where I coached the national cricket team.

Having just visited Bermuda’s beautiful shores again as part of Dawn Princess’ 2011 world cruise, I had cause to reflect on the cricket I have seen around the globe.

With a backdrop of The Himalayas, cricket flourishes in beautiful Nepal and only a few years ago they won the under 19 World Championship. With only about 75 minutes flying time to Delhi, the Nepalese are inundated with TV coverage of cricket. Indeed, during my stay in Katmandu on one occasion, I could watch test matches beamed in live from three difference countries.

Cricket has been played in Malta for more than 100 years and while I holidayed there on one occasion I was able to watch a match between the Malta National Team and “The Crows.”   The Crows from New Zealand were led by Russell Crowe, who was at the time making Gladiator in Malta, and contained two of his cousins, New Zealand test cricketers Martin and Jeffrey Crowe.

Even in Greece, I was able to view a lovely cricket oval in the centre of Corfu’s main city as I travelled with my wife, Meg, on a seven-day cruise from Venice. As I stood viewing the oval, our guide was discussing cricket and claimed that Greece had just won the Cricket World Cup.

Hamilton Harbor in Bermuda

As I was mulling over these claims, a very English voice came from amongst my fellow passengers: “I bet he doesn’t know who you are”. In discussion with this man, he revealed he was a cricket tragic. He hadn’t seen me play for over 30 years and I was amazed he recognized me after all that time.

Cricket fans can be fanatics but none more so than an American I ran into in Karachi, Pakistan. His name was also Bob Simpson and he had an amazing amount of knowledge about my career, including my batting and bowling statistics. I was to run into him all over the cricketing world on numerous occasions.

Though not in Bermuda….

What is it that I love so much about Bermuda?

I first went there in 1978 on the way home from a tour of the West Indies. It was the period when I made a comeback to test cricket during the upheaval of World Series Cricket.

I also went there twice as Australia’s coach in the 1990s and was approached to coach the Bermuda National Team.

This period gave me the opportunity to explore this magical island.

St. Peter's Church in St. George, Bermuda

The pink beaches caught my attention first. I was to learn that Bermuda is surrounded by coral and the beaches were generally of fine coral.

History suggests that there are more wrecks on this coral than anywhere else in the world.

Bermuda is stuck on its own in the Atlantic Ocean and was unknown to sailors. In the time that Spain was the master of South America it is claimed the Spanish ships, loaded with plundered gold and anything of wealth they could steal, smashed into the coral reefs off Bermuda as their crew were unaware Bermuda was in direct line of the path they took to Spain.

My first impression of Bermuda was that it reminded me of parts of England. It is much brighter of course, with magical coloured houses – all with white roofs. On enquiry, “why white roofs?” I was told Bermuda doesn’t have any rivers of note and rainwater gathered from the roof was piped to water tanks underneath the kitchen.

While they have no meaningful rivers they have plenty of bridges, some large, but most small and beautiful as they join the numerous small islands which make up Bermuda.

While Princess Cruises’ ships berth at the fascinating Royal Dockyards, the smaller cruise ships still dock in the centre of Bermuda, the capital, Hamilton.

Bob (far left) with the 1961 Australian test cricket team aboard P&O’s Himalaya

It was my first sight of Hamilton and it came as a shock seeing ships berthed just 50 yards from the main shopping area.

And what of the cricket? The Bermudians tell me that cricket was played in Hamilton when Australia was still a penal colony. It is well organized and they have a team in every state. They love the game and love to hit balls out of the grounds.

I have to say, their standard is pretty good – despite the fact they don’t have a huge population. They have one major knock out competition and this arouses much passion. Betting is huge (I wonder if the ICC knows about this), and the team that wins are heroes to all in their small community.

How good are they? They have qualified for the limited Over World Cup which suggests they can play a bit.

It’s been 23 years since I’ve visited Hong Kong … an eternity! But it stands out in my memory as an incredible place that opened my eyes to how wonderfully food can be prepared, presented and, most of all, enjoyed. Hong Kong — Chinese but with a blend of British influence, that thrilling mix of East and West – offers the full spectrum of experiences. It encompasses the highest levels of luxury and the simplest basics of life, all in a small space about the size of Rhode Island in the U.S.

I first traveled to Hong Kong in 1988 on the original Sea Princess, one of my favorite ships. At the time, I was 29, the youngest head waiter on board. I already had worked in the sophisticated restaurants of London and been with Princess for six years.

I thought I was a seasoned traveler, but the approach to Hong Kong’s Victoria Harbor was so breathtaking, so stunning and unique, I immediately realized that the world still had surprises in store for me. The view of towering skyscrapers above and simple houseboats below, the high and the low, had my head nodding up and down, just trying to take it all in.

I was lucky. Sea Princess was going into dry dock in Hong Kong for 10 days of refurbishment and renovations. This would give me the time to carefully explore this wonder before me.

I looked around the harbor. It was crowded with small houseboats, where people actually lived. You could see them, peeling vegetables, washing clothes, eating rice and fish. Where I am from in Acqui Terme in Italy, and in every other waterside place that I had been, people lived along the river not on it. In Hong Kong, people lived and worked on the water itself.

In addition to houseboats and cruise ships, the waterfront was crowded with container ships, tankers, ferries and yachts, plus water taxis zipping all around. It was a busy place.  

The glowing neon of a Hong Kong street

I couldn’t wait to go ashore and start exploring. I walked off the gangway and turned around. I could barely see Sea Princess anymore; she was now completely covered by boiler-suited workers, who were hanging by ropes, industrious as ants, cleaning and repainting the vessel. It was unbelievable.

On a typical cruise, crew don’t have much time to spend ashore. We are lucky if we can take a few hours to sightsee during the day and at night we are typically at sea. I think for that reason, experiencing Hong Kong at night was particularly special to me.

The first dinner I had in Hong Kong was on November 8, my birthday.  A passenger, an older woman who had sailed with Sea Princess for almost two months and remained with us during dry dock, invited me and two other crew members out for my birthday at a lovely restaurant at the Sheraton Hotel. She was quite wealthy and enjoyed the good life – I remember she had two cabins, one for her and another for her wardrobe. She wanted to order the Chateau Lafite-Rothschild 1959, in honor of the year of my birth, but we had to settle for the 1965 vintage. What a great wine!

The next evening, the ship’s maître d’ invited me and the two other head waiters out for dinner. He wanted us to experience the level of service he remembered from a previous visit. We went to Hugo, a French restaurant legendary for table-side preparations. It’s still there today. Caesar salad is one thing, but I had never before seen lobster bisque prepared at table. Nor have I since, I should add. I couldn’t take my eyes off the waiter as he sautéed the onions, then added the lobster stock, lobster meat, cream and cognac.

From Hugo, we rented a taxi boat and took a tour of the bay of Hong Kong. What a magnificent sight it was to see the lighted skyline of Hong Kong reflected upon the dark water, to sail alongside houseboats and see families stop to wave as they cooked their dinners and put their children to bed.

Hong Kong's floating restaurants

I had another great meal at the floating restaurant, Jumbo. The restaurant took up several decks of a huge boat. One deck seemed to be entirely reserved for glass tanks filled with live fish, shellfish and crustaceans. It was heaven for a fish lover like me — choose what you desire and it comes back cooked to perfection.  We wound up calling the establishment “Jumbo Shrimp” because the shrimp they served were enormous.

As wonderful as these meals were, nothing compared to the unique exploration of the senses that is a Hong Kong street market. There were many to explore—the Stanley Market, Temple Street Night Market, Ladies Market and Jade Market, selling clothing, electronics, fabric and gems. Of course, my favorites were the food markets. Ordinary citizens crowded by the stalls for fish, meat, fruit and vegetables. The smell of spices, tropical fruit and flowers lingered in the humid air.

Then there were the street vendors at their carts selling delicious treats of dim sum, grilled seafood, rice dishes, fried tofu and more. Hardly anyone spoke English, so my crewmates and I communicated by pointing and gesticulating … you know, the way Italians speak. People were screaming and yelling, all different kinds of food were cooking in the open air. Hong Kong markets are a feast for every sense.

Food for sale at a Hong Kong market

Hong Kong goes from high to low at a turn of a corner. I went from the cacophony of the market to the next street, where luxury skyscrapers stood. I will never forget sitting in a coffee shop at 3 a.m. I counted more Rolls Royces on the streets of Hong Kong at that early hour than I ever did in London.

In addition to amazing meals, no trip to Hong Kong is complete without a custom-made suit. The maître d’ took me to a tailor and a shoemaker he knew of, where I purchased a bespoke cashmere jacket, trousers, shirt and shoes. The speed of the process, taking just a few days from selecting fabrics and measurements to fittings to completion, was impressive.  Months later, when I showed my friends at home my new tailored apparel, they could not believe the quality and the inexpensive cost. The craftsmanship was on par with anything I could find in Italy. I still have the cashmere jacket from that visit more than two decades ago. It has held up beautifully over time.

In addition to my wardrobe additions, I have another memento of Hong Kong. It is a little statuette of a wild boar, my Chinese zodiac sign, which the maître d’ bought at an antique store for my birthday. I keep it on my desk at home as a reminder of this amazing place. 

Before we knew it, the industrious Chinese workers had Sea Princess refurbished and ready to sail. They had given me enough time to fall in love with the place. I had seen Hong Kong by day and early dawn. I had seen five-star luxury as well as everyday family life at the street markets and on the houseboats. While I have been all over Asia, I can honestly say I have never seen anything as incredible as Hong Kong.

But of course the memories that linger most from my time in Hong Kong are the flavors and aromas that opened my senses to the wonderful ways in which a meal can enhance the travel experience – something I try to remember every day.

The rooftops of Cannes

The Riviera is a narrow coastal strip between the Alps and the Mediterranean. It extends from Hyeres in France to La Spezia in Italy. A panoramic highway runs along the Riviera from end to end. Known as the Corniche, if you drive along it you will see the luxuriant vegetation for which the entire area is known. I saw villas set in beautiful gardens and world-famous resorts which popped up in the 19th century because of the region’s mild climate.

I was told by locals that in 1834, Lord Brougham, Britain’s  Lord Chancellor, was en route to Nice when an outbreak of cholera forced the authorities to freeze all travel to prevent the disease from spreading. Although he was “trapped” in Cannes, it was love at first sight and Lord Brougham built a house there to escape British winters. The English aristocracy, Russian czars, various kings and princes soon caught on and “Cannes became the community for the international elite,” signifying dignified luxury.

Cannes is on the part of the French Riviera called the Cote d’Azur, possibly at its most brilliant when the film festival is one. But Cannes shines in May, June, September and October. In July and August it’s crowded, first with film festival goes, then with French and other European sun-worshippers who flock to the marvellous beaches. I couldn’t believe that there are eight km. of fine sand beaches, many owned by the palatial hotels on La Croisette, the walkway that extends along the beachfront. The free beaches, located near Le Suquet, which is in the old part of Cannes, include the Plages du Midi and the Plages de la Bocca. Both are within walking distance of the Palais de Festival where the coveted Palme d\’Or award is given each year for the best film.

The colorful Cannes Fish Market

We arrived on October 6th. It was the first Sunday of the month and the lively flea market at Les Allees de la Liberte was in full swing. This park-like square hosts a flea market or “brocante” every Saturday and the first Sunday of each month. It is very close to the pedestrian only zone, where on the Rue Meynadier, we found a cache of fabulous restaurants and cafes. Uphill a little is the Halles of Cannes, called the Marche Forville. Vendors selling luscious  fruits, vegetables, herbs and flowers of the region as well as fish and cold-pressed olive oils, made us long for an apartment of our own so we could take home some  baskets full or produce.

To list every twist and turn of the streets would be tedious, but things that stand out include palm trees and bougainvillea, parasols by the sea and the scent of pine and lavender. The little cafe where we tasted the wine of the region, a red Bandol wine was memorable. as were Sunday afternoon boule players, the antique merry-go-round for the children and several pleasant conversations we had with vendors displaying antiques at the Sunday “puce”.

Douce France Antiques, in business for many years, was a standout, selling Daum and Baccarat crystal, collector’s dolls, bronzes, beautiful silver knife-rests and estate jewellery.

For a late afternoon pick-me-up, we headed for Bar l’Amiral at the fabled Hotel Martinez, 73 La Croisette to try a Champagne cocktail. I was amazed to find out that there are eight “Creations Au Champagne” – all featuring Taittinger Champagne. My choice? “Miss Baccarat” which included Passion fruit liqueur, Mirabelle, Cognac, Grand-Marnier, orange juice and grenadine. Superb!

Susan's son, Pierre, along the Cannes beachfront

The Hotel Martinez was Liz Taylor’s favourite hotel in Cannes. It has a Michelin-starred restaurant aptly named La Palme d’Or where fabulous chefs work magic on the superlative produce on the region.

Excursions we tried include hopping on a ferry at the Jetee Albert Edouard in the Vieux Port to visit the Abbaye de Lerins, on Ile St. Honorat, just 10 minutes from Cannes. The story goes that after the monk St. Honorat  settled here around 400 A.D., seven disciples followed. The monastery eventually became one of the most powerful in all Christendom.

Another treat was taking the local bus to Grasse, which claims to be the perfume capital of the world. It is in the mountainous hill country behind Cannes and makes an interesting half-day trip. Another day-trip we took, in a rental car, was to St. Tropez. According to Colette’s “Prisons et Paradis,” St. Tropez lured too many people even in the 1930s. She wrote: “Two hundred luxury cars driving toward the port at five in the afternoon. Cocktails, Champagne on the yachts in the harbor, you know.” St. Tropez continues to lure people to its beaches, marvellous boutiques and bouillabaisse restaurants but I’ll take Cannes any day.

I was just appointed National Accounts Manager and was traveling to Budapest and Prague, two jewels of Eastern Europe, for an industry conference.  My days in Budapest flew by in hotel conference rooms, just as you’d expect.  But then we traveled to Prague, and it turned out to be a place that would envelop me in history, and its gracious, old-world charm and urban beauty would inspire and surprise me.

I was not prepared to step back in time but that is what it felt like entering the Old Town section of Prague, where my hotel, a converted convent, was located. The cobblestone streets, the beautiful Old Town Square ringed with majestic buildings and then the bridge–the Charles Bridge–that would become the center point of Prague for me and the catalyst for a cascade of emotions I did not expect to experience on a business trip.

But Prague is magical, and it has a way of distracting you from life’s daily concerns.

Cindy standing on the Charles Bridge.

Shorty after checking into our hotel, whose simple rooms, creamy plaster walls and quiet hallways were in themselves a journey back in time (reminding me of my Catholic high school rooms at Mt. St. Ursula in New York), I joined my traveling companions for a walk through Old Town.

Old Town was founded around the 9^th century on the Vltava River and was an important marketplace and military meeting ground. Five hundred years later, Charles IV founded the new town across the river. That certainly put things in perspective for me — the “new” part of town was established in the 1300s!  Spanning the river between the old and “new” is the majestic Charles Bridge, commissioned by the same Charles IV.

That first afternoon my group and I wandered around Old Town and got our bearings before heading to the Charles Bridge. By day, it abounds with life–musicians, groups of young people hanging out and shopkeepers at their kiosks crowded its expanse. I found it to be a joyful, happy place and enjoyed watching the cross-section of humanity congregating along the busy pedestrian bridge.

The bridge is beautiful, with 16 arches gracefully leaping across the Vltava. Its 516-meter span is guarded by alternating lamp posts and statues–30 in all–of saints both popular and obscure, and various representations of the Madonna and Christ.

But the architectural impact of the bridge was somewhat overshadowed by the noisy crowds who flock to it by day. Later that evening, after dinner, we returned to walk the bridge and by night, it imparts a completely different feeling. The Charles Bridge whisked my imagination back in time, to Prague’s past as a Gothic citadel, a crown jewel of the Holy Roman Empire, a seat of the Hapsburg dynasty.

Cindy and her colleague, Anthony Viciana, exploring Prague.

As I crossed the bridge, it was quiet and the river was still. Indeed a dark mist was rising off the Vltava and the cloudy day had turned to foggy night. The bridge was mostly empty and the statues stood sentinel, softly lit by their neighboring lamps. My imagination could not help but seize upon the vampire books and Gothic novels I had read. Stopping to admire the statues–St. Jude, St. Vitus, St. John the Baptist, then the most famous one, The Crucifix and Calvary, with its towering cross–brought to mind the often tragic lives of the saints depicted on the bridge and the story of the crucifixion.

A sensation of Gothic mystery, the distant past and deep spirituality emerged in me. The bridge at night is a monumental experience. I did not expect to feel such a range of emotions.

The next morning, Prague was to unexpectedly capture my emotions once again. We visited Josefov, or the Jewish quarter, which takes up a quadrant of Old Town. In Josefov are numerous synagogues, a town hall and an old Jewish cemetery. There is some dispute about when this cemetery was established; some say 1439, the date on the oldest tombstone, while others estimate that Jews were buried there as many as 1000 years earlier. In any case, the cemetery is crowded with 12,000 tombstones, layered one against the other, as lack of space meant that land was filled and graves were layered one upon the other.

Prague’s Jews certainly faced more than their share of suffering. During the middle ages, pogroms terrorized the community. Centuries later, the Holocaust and Nazi occupation did much the same.

Cindy with Prague Castle in the background.

Walking through Josefov, you could feel the anguish that occurred there, as if its inhabitants were reaching out to you, to remind you to never forget their suffering. It was another unexpected moment of spiritual connection in Prague. Whether you are Jewish or not, Josefov will take hold of you and remind you to be grateful for what you have and to never forget the lessons of the past.

Luckily, most of Prague’s historic structures were untouched by World War II and Soviet occupation. It was remarkable to walk the cobblestone streets and see a city that looked much the same as it did centuries before.

Prague brought me back in time but I’d be remiss to not mention the liveliness of the city. I had a fantastic time with my group dining out and trying some of the city’s renowned beer. The night before I was to leave, I had a blast at a massive nightclub near the Charles Bridge. I kept a flyer from the place and the slogan still makes me smile. The four-story club was billed as “The Biggest Music Club in Middle Europe.”

After a few hours of fun, I returned to my converted convent for a few hours’ sleep before an early flight home.

That visit was in the spring of 2001, more than a decade ago. While I have been to many great European cities, some revered for spiritual sites both ancient and modern (Rome, Barcelona, Venice and Athens come to mind), none have resonated with me as deeply as Prague.

While some sites, such as Josefov, brought forth great sadness, others, especially the Charles Bridge by night, elicited spiritual joy. The greater message of Prague, and perhaps life itself, is to learn from history and live with feeling. The sublime and the sorrowful, the historic and the lively reside in Prague, all connected by the venerable Charles Bridge.

On our vacation this year, my family sailed from Whittier to Vancouver aboard Diamond Princess. It was somewhat sentimental for me as it took me back to when I first joined Princess Cruises as a seafarer, when I signed up for an Alaska season to work aboard the original Royal Princess for what I thought would be a brief six-month escape from my life in the UK. It’s now 24 years later (to the month) and I’m still happily working for Princess.

This recent voyage not only took me back to my first week at sea, but also reminded me of when I first fell in love with Vancouver. Standing on the top deck sailing under the Lionsgate Bridge past Stanley Park, I harkened back to a somewhat fresh but clear Saturday morning on August 8, 1987 when I first sailed into Vancouver on Royal Princess.

Little did I realize then how much the city would capture such a special part of my life and eventually become part of me, particularly because it’s the hometown of my wife, Dawn. We got married in Vancouver and now we travel there frequently with our kids Jordan (4) and Jenna (11 months). You could say, it’s our second home.

Canada Place, with Vancouver in the background.

I’d always been intrigued by the amazing friendliness and warm hospitality of the Canadians. After completing that first tour of duty, I took local leave and explored Canada from the West Coast to the East Coast using a student rail pass. It was in Vancouver that I met some local chaps who helped me map out my Canadian journey, giving me insider tips and must-see sights. After my amazing six-week trip, I knew one thing for certain–I wanted to go back to Vancouver. I felt so at home and connected to the people.

On our most recent trip, we made sure to experience a grand entrance into Vancouver, an amazing event in itself. Granted, it’s a very early morning for those who want to watch the ship’s final approach into Canada Place, but armed with a cup of coffee it’s really worth the 5:30 a.m. wake-up call. Vancouver easily rates as one of the world’s most scenic ports and sailing into the city reminds me of a fellow Englishman, Captain George Vancouver, who on June 13, 1792, was exploring the same Burrard Inlet just before his 35th birthday.

Admittedly Captain Vancouver’s two-year voyage from England took a little longer, as he had to take the scenic route via Capetown, New Zealand, Tahiti, and China. The city adopted his name in 1886.

Granville Island.

Today, it’s the fourth largest port in North America and major film production studios have now turned Vancouver into the third largest film production location in North America, after Los Angeles and New York. The city certainly lives up to its many accolades and has frequently been recognized as one of the top cities in the world in which to live.

As with many other West Coast locations, Vancouver experiences spectacular sunsets. One of the best spots for enjoying a scenic evening is at English Bay, in a restaurant or bar, or simply sitting on the beach. If you’ve really timed it right, make sure you’re there for the annual International Fireworks Competition, which is held in July and August.

That’s what we did in 2004 when, together with 100 of our closest family and friends….and a priest, I hired a boat to tie the knot with my amazing wife. After the ceremony we were all treated to dinner and a perfect view of the fireworks competition — a truly enchanting and memorable evening topped off with a rare blue moon. It was perfect!

David's kids, Joran (left) and Jenna, at the Vancouver Aquarium.

Now that Dawn and I have kids, with family and friends in Vancouver I’ve discovered there is plenty to keep all ages intrigued while exploring the city. Stanley Park, one of North America’s biggest urban parks, has six miles of sea wall that, regardless of the weather, is frequented by Vancouverites and visitors alike enjoying walking, jogging, biking, and skating. The park offers numerous choices of transport — a horse-drawn tour will drive you comfortably around the park, or you can walk it in three hours.

In the middle of the park we like to visit the Vancouver Aquarium and the Stanley Park Miniature Steam Railway — a particular favorite of Jordan’s, since as a typical lad he simply loves anything to do with trains. Whilst on the east side of the park, it’s always nice to sit on a bench and take a moment to enjoy the sights of Coal Harbour with its busy float planes or cruise ships gracefully entering and leaving the port. Following tradition, at noon every day the Heritage Horns sing out the first four notes of “O Canada” (Canada’s National Anthem), while at nine o’clock each evening the Stanley Park Gun (first fired in 1898) is sounded from the cannon perched on the sea wall.

David's wife, Dawn, with their kids Jordan and Jenna atop Grouse Mountain.

Just around the corner from Stanley Park are English Bay and False Creek, home of a favorite of our kids…Granville Island! The fun starts with a foot-ferry ride from False Creek to get to the Island. Once we’ve landed, the kids go wild at the Kids Market and Water Park & Adventure Playground, while parents can enjoy the market, a selection of stores, restaurants…or (my favorite) simply sit back and relax with a coffee as you are entertained by performances of the local street artists, or watch the water traffic sail by.

To enjoy a bird’s eye view of Vancouver, my favorite vantage point is Grouse Mountain. Located just 15 minutes from downtown, this peak offers spectacular views in summer or the snow of winter. It’s easy to get up to the summit by cable car, and at the top visitors can not only take in the scenery but can enjoy a great meal. Of course, if it’s winter…don’t forget your skis!!

It’s been 24 years since I first caught sight of Vancouver from the deck of a cruise ship. Today, as I think of all the city has given me and what it means to my family, I can’t think of a better place to stop and stay a while.

The view of Lionsgate Bridge with Stanley Park, left, cruising into Vancouver.

Dawn and her husband, Austin, hiking near the salmon bake

In July 2010 we were off to Alaska on a 7-day cruise aboard Diamond Princess. It was our first time on a Princess Cruise and were extremely excited.   It was a dream come true for my mother-in-law as well as an exciting family adventure for the rest of us.

On our cruise we had the opportunity to visit Ketchikan, Skagway and beautiful fjords and glaciers.  One morning we even saw a brown grizzly bear eating a whale carcass along the beach which I’m sure does not happen every day.

But our favorite port had to be Juneau, which brought the excitement of whale watching and a salmon bake followed by a helicopter glacier walkabout.

The entire family took part in the whale watching and salmon bake adventure.  I must say that observing these magnificent whales up close and personal was thrilling.  It was like they were putting on a show just for us.   And, even though the trip was described as whale watching the experience was much more than that.

A whale makes an appearance

Along our route we saw several beautiful eagles soaring overhead and on trees along the shoreline. We also spotted stellar sea lions lounging on a buoy taking a break from the cold waters.  They were so adorable, each one trying to find a little space on that buoy to call their own.

The real stars though were the whales – whale tales galore. We were lucky enough to see about 10 different whales on our trip each one giving us a different view.  Some displayed their spouts blowing out water; others were friendlier showing us their massive bodies and force.  The most exciting moment though was when one whale completely jumped out of the water exhibiting a graceful dive through the air before plunging back into the water.  It was quite a sight one that is embedded in my memory forever.

After our long morning of whale watching we boarded a bus for a salmon bake where we were greeted with tons of food.  An open grill was the main attraction where the salmon covered in a sweet molasses sauce was cooking. The smell alone made your mouth water.  Follow that with roasting marshmallows over an open fire and you have one great day…

Dawn hiking Mendenhall Glacier with her mother-in-law, Carol, and bother-in-law, David.

And just when you thought it couldn’t get any better — it did!  The ultimate experience was taking a helicopter ride to the Mendenhall Glacier with my mother-in-law and brother-in-law.  Viewing the glacier from the helicopter was one thing but words cannot even describe what it was like to actually stand on this glacier.

It was as if we were transported to another world.  Our guides helped us put on our crampons (spikes over our boots), gave us our poles and off we went on a magical hike around the glacier over crevices and up icy hills.   Our 30-minute hike was way too short but the memories will last a lifetime plus I snapped a few photos along the way for nostalgia.

Our day in Juneau was an awesome experience and really made our Alaska cruise that much more special.  We always talk about this trip and when we plan to go back!

Approaching Pitcairn Island.

Thus began my journey, which culminated this April when Royal Princess (on its final voyage) anchored offshore and welcomed aboard my Pitcairn friends for a morning visit.

Pictairn is a paradise, a well-kept secret since Fletcher Christian and his crew landed in 1789.  Even today, the entire population—47 men, women and children—are direct descendants of the Bounty.  Pitcairn appeared in the distance in the early morning hours—a tiny speck of land, less than two square miles, displaying gloriously green landscape and rock formations standing untouched since creation.

Captain Ivan Jerman anchored strategically to provide us with a picture perfect view of Bounty Bay (the Bounty still lies on the ocean floor just beneath our ship).  Adamstown was before us, a delightful  settlement of lovely homes,  town center, medical office,  beautiful church and one small dirt road which circles the island.

Bounty Bay - in foreground, Adamstown.

Having established web-friendships with several of the islanders over the last six years since internet reached their remoteness, they were thrilled to hear of our plans to stop by.  There were lots of requests from the islanders for special items and I was asked to bring “luxury” items such as Baby Ruth candy bars, writing paper, swimsuits, etc.  Supply ships come by only a few times each year, and they deliver only basic life necessities.  It was great fun shopping for all the little luxuries they so seldom see.  We ended up with four extra suitcases full of goodies!  Air Tahiti Nui was also most generous in allowing us extra baggage for our cause.

Because we had three days at sea before arriving at Pitcairn, we took every opportunity to excite other passengers about the port.  Many were not even aware of the true story of the  Bounty,which we were happy to summarize for them.

Brenda Christian, 9th generation descendant of the Bounty.

At breakfast, lunch, pool time, waiting for shows, even in the restrooms—if anyone mentioned Pitcairn, we flamed their interest with personal stories from our correspondence with the islanders.  By the time the longboat pulled alongside, we had the entire starboard side of the ship calling out greetings to those coming aboard!

The Princess staff also graciously helped me prepare gifts bags for each of the 11 island children. The culture difference between us was immediately evident—Princess passengers busily purchasing original handicrafts and postmarking cards, while the Pitcairners gently and quietly sold their wares, graciously entertained questions and shared stories of their homeland.

Our visit ended much too soon as we bid a fond farewell to one the most remote and amazing places on earth–our Princess ship being one of the privileged few to visit  each year.  Thanks, Princess, for this opportunity of a lifetime!

Our many gift bags!

A poignant farewell as the islanders return in their longboat to Pitcairn.

Rare edition of "Mutiny on the Bounty," purchased at Pitcairn from Steve Young, a bounty descendant.

In a way, I thought of it as my gift to him, but it turned out to be one of the travel experiences I remember most. I did not expect to be so fascinated by the intricate series of locks and gates that make up the Panama Canal and equally as touched by some children I met on one of the San Blas islands there. Truly, Panama was a revelation to me.

I had read in school about the long and arduous history of man’s quest to join the Pacific and Atlantic via the narrow, 40-mile-wide Isthmus of Panama. I must have imagined that the Panama Canal would be a trench-like passageway, a muddy river of sorts, connecting the two oceans.

I had seen a documentary recapping the punishing, dangerous and seemingly impossible work entailed in cutting through a mountain range and even a portion of the Continental Divide, hacking through dense jungle, navigating the tides of the powerful Chagres River and battling mosquitoes that brought the devastation of yellow fever and malaria with them.

This was man vs. nature at its fiercest. It was a Herculean odyssey that defeated the initial team of investors from France and challenged the Americans who ultimately completed the canal.

A ship in the locks of the Panama Canal.

As hard as it was to reconcile the efficient system in place today with the chaos and hardship of a century ago, the knowledge about the building of the canal is what makes it such an enriching experience.

We boarded Crown Princess in Fort Lauderdale, and after a few days at sea we arrived at the Panama Canal.  It was a little surreal, because Steven and I were hanging out by the side of the pool, in complete vacation mode, as our ship entered the first of the three Gatun Locks. Excitedly, we made our way to the railing to get a closer look at what was happening.

Crown Princess entered what looked like a giant pool that then filled with water; you could see the gates open and the water pour in. As we rose to reach the next level of the Canal, the gates opened and our ship eased into the next lock, where the process was repeated once again. It was like being in an elevator. I was amazed at the efficiency of the whole transaction and I could sense Steven was in complete awe of this mechanical masterpiece.

Large ships are not allowed to power through the locks themselves. Instead, they are towed by electric locomotives, or “mules.”

A close-up of the mechanical marvel of the Panama Canal.

After the third lock, Crown Princess had been lifted 85 feet above sea level to reach Gatun Lake. At Gatun Lake, our ship reversed course and we went back through the same portion of the canal, back toward the Caribbean. Had we continued on to the Pacific, the whole process could have taken the better part of 10 hours, depending on ship traffic.

From there, we stopped by one of the islands in Panama’s San Blas Archipelago. The San Blas islands are run by the Kuna Indians and their economy, language, specific culture and customs thrive there. Besides the fact that the particular island we visited had a breathtaking beach, what captured my heart were the children who flocked to meet us after we docked.

I did not expect to be reminded of my own childhood on a tiny island in San Blas. This trip was turning out to be full of surprises. As the children of San Blas ran up to us selling beaded necklaces, shell jewelry and sweet little wooden boats that they had made, my mind flashed back to my own childhood in Trinidad and Tobago.

You could say finances were tight…we were poor.  In an attempt to have a little extra, my mother used to make candy and sell it at my school during recess. I was not embarrassed at all, in fact, I’d always join her in selling sweets to my friends. You do what you have to do.

But when you are a child, you feel you’re the only kid in the world who has to work this way. Here in a remote island of San Blas, I was reminded that there are needy children all over, in every part of the world, who do what they can to provide for their families. I was truly touched beyond belief.

The children of San Blas.

I came home thinking of the endearing nature of the children of San Blas and the mechanical marvels of the Panama Canal.

This was a trip that satisfied both Steven and me, and one of our last together before we started our family. It’s been 14 years since we went to Panama and now we have three boys: James, 12, Michael, almost 11, and Nicholas, 7. Vacations are no longer romantic breaks for two…we travel as a pack.

I just know that we’ll be back to Panama before long, where our sons—one shows signs of becoming an engineer—will be amazed to see this wonder of technology and perhaps meet a few children who are a lot like their mom used to be.

Ophelia aboard her Crown Princess cruise to the Panama Canal in 1997.

Linda feeding lambs at the Agrodome

Our tour that day took us to the city of Rotorua which is a very active volcanic area. The ride was long but interesting, and we were again impressed by the cleanliness and “greenness” of New Zealand.

We passed through several small towns and saw Kiwi fruit farms, sheep (of course), lumber forests and more cows than we expected. We also stopped at “The Agrodome,” which puts on a show featuring examples of various types of sheep, and a demonstration of how the dogs work the sheep. Best of all, I got to feed some lambs.

When we arrived at Rotorua we first did a quick city tour which featured their hot spring bathhouses, some very old and some very new. Almost every motel or lodge had a sign that said they had hot springs available.

After lunch, a troop of Maori singers and dancers performed for us. They seemed so very proud of their heritage that it was contagious. We all enjoyed their show very much and I bought a CD of their music. There is something very haunting about the Maori music.

Steam coming out of the ground in Rotorua

As we toured the town, we noticed that everywhere you looked there was steam coming out of the ground. Interestingly, there was a small river running down the middle of the town. On one side of the river there was extensive volcanic action, on the other side, nothing. Our guide told us that they are unable to dig a hole anywhere without steam coming out of it. Not even a grave.

He then showed us a place where six months before a 300’ geyser had sprung out of the ground where none ever existed before. He also told us about a lady who came home and found steam coming out of her garage floor and within days the house was a complete ruin. They have up to 200 earthquakes a day, most so minor they cannot be felt. Thankfully, we didn’t feel any during our visit.

Next up was the highlight of the day, Te Puia, a combination Maori Cultural Park and geo-thermal area. A Maori man showed us their typical architecture and how they made the clothing they wore. There were also numerous cultural displays and a traditional Marae (temple).

Maori dancers performing for visitors

On the way down to the most active volcanic area, we stopped at a Kiwi Bird House which was kept dark for these nocturnal birds. We then passed a mud pool that was “burping” up spurts of mud. It was interesting, but not terribly awe inspiring.

But then we walked a few hundred feet further and saw an amazing sight. A geyser was spurting many feet up out of the ground, and steam and mud was blowing up everywhere. There was an intense sulfur odor in the air.

We arrived back at Tauranga to a massive traffic jam. Our bus driver commented that he had never seen it so bad. We barely crawled along from the outskirts of the city all the way to the port. We were glad we were on a Princess Tour.

When we arrived at Tauranga I noticed a large crowd of people on the pier next to where we were docked. I remembered the sign for the ferryboat, figured the people were waiting for the ferry and didn’t think anything more about it.

The geyser at Te Puia

We boarded the ship and went out on our balcony and looked around. There were literally thousands of people standing on the docks surrounding our berth. People were also on the roof tops, on the top decks of all the boats surrounding us, and on the hillsides in the distance.

There was an announcement that virtually everyone in the city and surrounding area had gathered to thank us for coming and to wave goodbye. Not only were we the largest ship to ever dock in Tauranga, we were the first cruise ship to return after 9/11 and the people were there to express their appreciation.

Even now as I type this, tears have come to my eyes. It was one of the most moving things I have ever experienced and at the time, I just couldn’t stop crying. As the ship left the port, the cheering and waving were non-stop. Boats followed us out of the harbor, blowing their horns. All the way to the open water you could see people up on the hillsides, among the ever-present sheep.

The people we had seen on the dock that morning were apparently the early welcoming committee, not people just waiting to board the ferry.

The crowds in Tauranga lined the shore and hillside to wave goodbye to the ship.

That night, we went to dinner, still emotional from the outpouring of appreciation from the people of Tauranga. We sat down at our regular table and saw that we had a different waiter. We wondered what had happened. Was he sick? Had he been reassigned? Promoted? His assistant told us that because of the traffic, HE HAD MISSED THE SHIP. Fortunately, our next stop was in Auckland, so he was able to get ground transportation instead of having to fly. We teased him about it for the rest of the cruise.

I will never forget this experience. I tell other passengers about it on virtually every cruise we have been on since. And every time I tell it, I still get emotional.

It was the pyramids that initially seized my imagination. I had so many questions about them. Who built the pyramids? Why did they build them? Was it true that the pyramids were built by aliens?

As the ninth of 13 children, we did not have much. It seemed impossible that I would ever have the resources to see Tutankhamen’s treasures, the mighty Nile River and the Great Pyramid of Giza. But I made it happen, by studying travel and tourism and eventually working for Princess Cruises, where I have been fortunate enough to take some life-altering journeys.

My very first cruise was to the Amazon in 1989. Joining me on that trip and the 21 cruises that have followed, has been my mom, Hermelinda. Now 82, she has called our yearly cruises the education she never got. My mom grew up poor and was never formally educated; she never dreamed she would get to experience the wonders of the world first hand, and gain an extensive education in history, seeing the actual places where great events occurred. I have had such pleasure sharing that process with someone I love, and I treasure the opportunity to travel with her.

The gold mask of King Tut in the Museum of Egyptian Antiquities in Cairo.

By the time we went to Egypt in 2008, mom and I were seasoned travel pros. We’d been to each of the seven continents, including Antarctica. I’ve found she is up for anything. No itinerary is too much for her. When the opportunity to take a Mediterranean/Aegean cruise came about, with Egypt a centerpiece of the itinerary, I rushed to book it. Egypt was special as we were both fascinated by that part of the world. The sophisticated ancient culture suggested by the pyramids and their magnificent contents drove our desire to go there.

Our cruise started in Rome but I couldn’t wait until we arrived in Alexandria, where we would board a motor coach and head to Cairo for two days of exploring some of Egypt’s most important sites.

Our first day in Cairo was highlighted by a trip to the Museum of Egyptian Antiquities. This is where King Tut’s most valued possessions, those he hoped to take with him to the afterlife, are kept. I had read about the boy king since childhood and remember my excitement when the riches from his tomb were displayed in the United States.

While I couldn’t see Tut’s treasures during any of the U.S. tours, seeing them in Egypt more than made up for it. Once at the museum, we headed straight for the Tutankhamen area.

I was curious to see the sarcophagus and detailed gold mask that rested over his bandaged head and shoulders. The gold mask, made of almost 25 pounds of pure gold, is unbelievable to see. It’s said that it was made in his likeness. The red quartzite sarcophagus is equally splendid, as is the solid gold inner coffin that actually contained his mummified remains. The everyday items, inlaid chests, statuary, gem-studded swords and carvings that were deemed essential for the afterlife were fascinating to see.

The majesty of the pyramids in Giza.

There is so much more to see in this museum, and we took time to admire some displays of beautiful, precious jewelry, stone carvings and hieroglyphic writings. I’m quite fascinated by hieroglyphics and got a cartouche of my name using those symbols at a jewelry shop in Cairo.

Meanwhile, my mom continued her usual travel shopping—she always buys something for every member of our (very large) family, filling up an extra suitcase every time.  And, as we both collected memories, my mom also collected a few rocks.  She picks up stones from every destination, and has built a three-foot wall in her garden, surrounding a Virgin Mary statue with the rocks she has brought home from around the world.

The next day, we got up early for a breakfast cruise on the Nile. I could sense an energy there that was like nothing I’d felt before. There is something mystical about this land. On board the boat, I let my mind wander momentarily, wondering what Cleopatra saw as she sailed along the Nile.

I was getting more and more excited as next we would tour some of the pyramids,  which are what really attracted us to the destination.

First we visited Sakkara, an ancient burial ground that was the necropolis for the citizens of the ancient city of Memphis. At Sakkara is the well-known step pyramid of six ascending levels, which was built for the pharaoh Djoser during the 27^th century BCE—older than King Tut, who came along in 1341 BCE.

Norma's mom, Hermelinda, standing in front of the Great Sphinx of Giza.

Next stop was Giza, the most incredible destination of all. The tour bus dropped us off at an overlook where you can see the site’s three pyramids and the sphinx in the background. We stood there in awe, admiring that postcard view. It was a hot day, but the walk was short to the pyramids themselves.

At Giza stands the Great Pyramid, one of the Seven Wonders of the World, built for Pharaoh Khufu around 2560 BCE. Standing near the Great Pyramid, I felt this energy in a tangible, tingling way. I had never connected with a place like that before. Something in the way these structures were built feels powerful and dynamic to me.

Next to me, my mom took notes in her little journal. Throughout this trip—any of our journeys for that matter—she takes notes in her journal. She doesn’t write much, just phrases and words that will jog her memory. Her job when she returns home is to report to the grandchildren about what she saw and that is quite a task as she has more than 50!

During those last moments at Giza, before we had to return to the bus and ultimately Star Princess, we drank in the majesty of the pyramids. Of the many pictures I took that day, none do them justice. You really have to be there to experience and feel the energy of this wonder of the ancient world.

In addition to the ancient wonders, I also found myself fascinated by the local culture.  We visited during the holy period of Ramadan, so while we were enjoying the local cuisine, our guides were fasting during the day.  We saw many people setting up tables outside to serve the evening meal where they would break their fast.

Norma's cartouche of her name in hieroglyphics.

But most of all, when I remember our visit to Egypt—indeed all of our travels—I feel so proud of my mom. I recall how when I asked my mom to go with me on that first cruise to the Amazon in 1989, she worried that the ship might sink. After that experience, I could see the light bulb going off in her head. Travel was wonderful for her, after a hard life raising 13 children, often desperate to make ends meet.  Travel has changed her life for the better.

Now, before each trip, typically a few months in advance, I call my mom to tell her what destination I’ve booked. From there, she starts conditioning, walking a little bit more each day, to prepare for the sightseeing ahead. We get excited, and it’s the excitement that keeps her young, I think.

Someday, with the passage of time, our adventures will no doubt be closer to home.  But for now, we love exploring the world.  In fact, we enjoyed Egypt so much, we had to return on another voyage a few years later—again, just me and my mom.

The Great Pyramid.

Norma and her mom, Hermelinda.

Don and his wife, Jean, in front of the famous Golden Gate Bridge

You know something?… it never works.  What is special about “The City” captivates almost everyone, even this former advertising/newspaper guy who can’t help revisiting attributes that keep San Francisco at the top of the polls as one of America’s favorite cities.

Yes, I will now go to Fisherman’s Wharf which I never did when working here.  Perhaps it’s the sea air or the walkaway shrimp cocktail or viewing the nearby cruise ships, or maybe the hustle and bustle of other tourists over-spending on gifts for the less fortunate back home.

From the Wharf, San Francisco’s iconic cable cars make the trip “half way to the stars” over Russian Hill and Nob Hill winding up at Union Square where some people are likely to max out their credit cards in places like Tiffany’s, Neiman Marcus, Nordstrom’s, et al.

Along the way, the views of the Bay and beyond show why they call San Francisco beautiful.  On a clear day the vista can include a glimpse of the Golden Gate Bridge, the hills of Marin and, if you’re lucky, the former home of some of the area’s most notorious guests, Alcatraz.

If time permits, I enjoy taking public transportation (the MUNI) to Golden Gate Park and the great museums –The DeYoung and the new California Academy of Sciences as well as The Legion of Honor in nearby Lincoln Park.

At the ballpark to cheer on the Giants

In my new role of tourist, I also like to try to see a San Francisco Giants baseball game.  However, it seems now that a ticket to see last year’s World Series Champs has become even more difficult to get than a ticket to a Lady Gaga concert.  But, when the team plays out of town, their home, AT&T Park, offers behind-the-scenes tours and this venue, right within city limits, is spectacular.

Remember, San Francisco is largely a walking town – it’s only seven by seven miles in area.  Of course, the many hills can make it seem much larger.  I don’t try to climb steep Twin Peaks or up the “Crookedest Street in the World,” Lombard Street, but I might try walking up Telegraph Hill to the landmark Coit Tower for a brilliant view of the Bay.

Another must for me is lunch at one of the great Chinese dim-sum restaurants. This assortment of small plates served from strolling carts is unique and delicious.  The only problem is that some of the servers speak almost as little English as I speak Chinese.  But somehow we communicate because I’ve never left hungry.

San Francisco in the 60s - Don with the Hyde St. cable car

Very good eating establishments abound in The City, influenced by the many diverse cultures of its citizens — Italian in North Beach, Asian in China Town and Japan Town, Mexican in The Mission District and even Russian out on the Avenues.

And, for those who can budget $100 & up for dinner, renowned restaurants can be found all over town. But there’s really no need to spend so much — Herb Caen, a legendary San Francisco columnist, once claimed that “the higher the view,” the worse the food.

So, it seems what we see as tourists is exactly what makes the City memorable – even in just one day.  If, like myself, you’re then smitten, you too can leave your heart in San Francisco.

In October 2005, I traveled to Amsterdam for a few days to meet a wing of my family that I’d long heard of but never met. My second cousin Tjalda and her husband Albert lived in the southern part of the city. My grandfather was born in the Netherlands and was Tjalda’s great uncle. My mother was always telling me I should go meet my Dutch relatives-years later I finally made the trip from San Francisco to Amsterdam.

As I got off the city shuttle train from Schiphol Airport, hauling a heavy bag and giant roller suitcase, filled with finery for the cruise I would take after this visit, Tjalda met me…astride her bicycle with no more than a wicker basket for storage.

We shared a warm greeting­­—honestly, I felt like I knew her already—and continued to Tjalda’s house. As Tjalda wheeled her bike, I slowly walked the five blocks. One of the first things I noticed was that Amsterdam streets were filled with cyclists. They were everywhere and seemed to own the roads more so than the cars.

Tjalda’s house was a narrow, three-story row house in the typical Dutch style I’d seen in photographs.  Once inside, I noticed how modestly furnished it was. The Dutch have a reputation for frugality and my relatives seemed to live without unnecessary bells and whistles (which I love and admire).

A fish market in Amsterdam.

My luggage, alas, was still my millstone. Dutch row houses have narrow, winding staircases. It wasn’t worth dragging my heavy bags up to the third-floor guest room, so I plucked out what I’d need for the next three days and carried that up instead.

Tjalda and I chatted for a while about my grandfather who moved from the Netherlands to Colorado where my mother and, years later, I grew up. Tjalda’s brother had visited us there a few times, staying at my grandfather’s old miner’s cabin we keep in Ouray, Colorado, so she was familiar with the many stories about him.  A noted naturalist, landscape architect and author, my grandfather, M. Walter Pesman, has written a few books about native flora that are still in print.

While I spoke no Dutch and Tjalda halting English, we discovered we both love the outdoors and try to eat healthfully. Perhaps the roots of that love for what grows from the land and a desire to live simply lay with my Dutch grandfather.

That first day we walked to the market: a series of connected outdoor stalls, one selling fish, others with fruit and vegetables, flowers and cheese. I was amazed by the giant wheels of Gouda, some as big as truck tires, plunked on the counters for portioning.

Tjalda cooked the spoils of our market trip for dinner that night. The broiled fish and vegetables were the perfect healthful meal to restore my energy after my long trip. And I needed that strength for the next day. Tjalda tried to convince me to take a “little” 50-mile bike ride with her. While I love to hike and ride bikes, I didn’t think I had 50 miles in me, so we settled on a route that would cover about 30.

Traditional Dutch clogs.

Even though I am a long-legged 5 feet 10 inches, Albert’s bike was a little big for me so I felt a bit wobbly riding through the busy streets of Amsterdam. But the day was so beautiful, light and sunny, I soon learned to ride the streets like a native. To get out of town, we caught a free ferry at the Centraal Station and soon we were wheeling our way through the countryside.

We rode across the flat Dutch landscape alongside canals adorned with gliding swans, famous windmills, and miles of dormant flower and agricultural fields. As we approached the endlessly grey and choppy North Sea I felt exhilarated and recalled the country’s great reputation for shipbuilding and pioneering engineering that reclaimed viable land from the marshy coastline.

On our way back to Amsterdam, Tjalda convinced me to try a local specialty—herring. It’s a popular local delicacy to the point that it’s sold from street-corner carts like hot dogs in the United States. She told me about a 100-year-old lady who ate a herring a day and attributed her longevity to that.  I did have a few bites even though it was a bit out of my comfort zone and it was very salty.

The next day, Tjalda and Albert had to go to their jobs in The Hague, home to both the Dutch government and royal family, only 32 miles from Amsterdam. I left Albert’s bike at home and decided to walk my way through the city. I love to wonder around cities alone and see as much as I can.

The classic Dutch row houses, some as narrow as 25 feet across, compensate with height and character. I was charmed by the variations of stepped-front gables and scrolled tops.

One the beautiful canals in Amsterdam.

I took a canal boat ride and learned that these houses have hooks made for hoisting furniture up through the windows. Now I know how Tjalda and Albert furnished their upstairs rooms!

Having read “The Diary of Anne Frank” as a child, one of my first priorities was to visit the Anne Frank House. I found the lines outside quite long, so for future visitors I recommend buying tickets online to skip the wait. The cramped, claustrophobic rooms made me shiver to think of how frightening life here was for this young girl. Anne Frank wrote so beautifully about the majestic chestnut tree that stood outside the house. Life upon its top branches—be it dew, blossoms or  emerging leaves—became her link to the outside as she hid in the cramped attic. I looked out the same window at the same tree. And I was lucky to see it, as the old tree, rotten with fungus, fell in 2010.

I continued my walk, crossing the Keizersgracht, the Herengracht, the Singel—just a few of Amsterdam’s famed canals.  At that point, I stopped to ask a woman for directions and I realized that she looked a lot like me—fair hair, blue eyes, longish nose and almost six feet tall. As a matter of fact, I realized a lot of people in the Netherlands looked like me, which had never happened on my travels before.

When I returned back to Tjalda’s, we went to the market and bought preparations for our last dinner together. I had come to see that my mother’s suggestion to visit my Dutch relatives was an excellent one. I not only connected with Tjalda and Albert but discovered a commonality, a deep-rooted sense of familiarity and sameness with the Dutch. It took me a long time to discover my heritage, but I found it in the Netherlands.

The next morning, Tjalda escorted me to the train station. This time, I was relieved to note, we loaded my luggage into the family’s car and drove the five blocks.