Europe, part 6

Sunday was a bit of a transition day on the ship. Half the passengers departed in Barcelona as they had boarded the ship a week prior. And with that, we brought on maybe 2,000 or 3,000 new passengers.

 

So Mom and I had our excursion planned apart from the cruise line to Montserrat, which is a small town in the mountains about an hour from Barcelona. We woke up at seven and grabbed a quick breakfast downstairs. I went with steak and a large cheese omelet along with breakfast potatoes and plenty of fruit. Sadly, this was the only day steak would be available for breakfast. After getting off the boat, we hailed a cab to Plaza Catalyuna. I have to be frank and say I wasn't impressed with downtown Barcelona at first. I expected a colorful, artsy city. Instead, I got drab concrete buildings, several homeless folks, trash in the street, and an inordinate swarm of pigeons. I mean dozens of pigeons. Some were actually dead and gutted; they really looked like they had been shot.

 

Four different groups did the tour, and there were sixteen of us in our group, mostly Americans with some folks mixed in from Japan, Portugal, and the Netherlands. Actually I need to include a side note. As best I remember, our tour guide was explaining the details of the tour. All of a sudden, I heard a stern warning... "Hey! Give it back!" Our heads all shot over in the direction of an elderly gentlemen with a prosthetic leg. A pickpocket had swiped a passenger's wallet and he saw him in the action. The police soon caught up with him, and they were in our midst within ten minutes of the incident. Pretty impressive.

 

Now Montserrat is a small mountain community with a beautiful dark old church, and it has a boarding school that houses the oldest children's choir in the world. 50 students, 32 teachers. Schools like to brag about their personalized attention they give to students, but I'd like to see them live up to this. There's also a cog railway station and the train really does seem to travel up the mountain at a 45 degree angle, maybe even a little steeper at times.

 

As we walked into the facility from the bus, on a faraway cliff, I noticed a cross. After we took a tour of Montserrat, our tour guide told us we could hike to that cross, Cruz de Sant Miguel. I made the hike along with Mike and Wendy, a married couple from Frisco. There were also couples from Portugal and New Jersey. It was a great and challenging 20 minute hike uphill, as I got to know those people better. Although I admit, part of me felt like the spare prick at the wedding. But seriously, it was a pretty magical feeling to make that hike to the top, to touch that great symbol of Christ's crucifixion, and to take some of the most magnificent mountain, city, and valley views that I've ever seen.

 

Probably the most iconic feature of Montserrat is the chamber with the Black Madonna, where people go to pray and confess. It was closed for some unexplained reason, maybe because it was Sunday. There was also a farmers market with cheese and honey... and pretty much nothing else. I sampled three different cheeses, two sheep's cheeses, including one with rosemary, and oh dear God, such an amazing cheese. It was sharp, it was fresh, it was aromatic. I also had a goat cheese with fresh herbs that I enjoyed as well.

 

We then headed a half hour down the road for our wine tasting at Oller Del Mas, which is a huge castle. It's a small family owned winery that has been around seven generations. We sampled a white and two reds. After touring the facility privately, we went to a tasting room that had plates of tapas arranged for us. Tuna with olive oil, Spanish salami, serrano ham, and an egg and potato croquette all on different kinds of bread. A few pieces of soft white cubed cheese which tasted fine, and a bowl of Spanish green olives, which I didn't go near.

 

I never had been taught to tilt the glass forward and check the top to see if it had any kind of color to it, like orange or pink, this helps determine how high the alcohol content is. Also, if when the glass is lifted and tilted, you put your fingers underneath, the less you see them, this indicates the body of the wine is fuller. I really didn't expect to learn about this. I usually swirl and smell and taste. Now I'll look and tilt as well.

 

We took an hour bus ride back to Barcelona and it felt like a totally different city. There were street vendors and pedestrians began to fill the plaza. But we caught a cab back to the port. I went straight to the gym, which was a bit of a cluster. I did two sets of squats and then two staff members came over to me. They told me because of the emergency safety drill, I had to stay in the free weights room because the geniuses who design the safety rules decided to put a hundred people in the gym. So basically these new arrivals were all watching me and me alone work my arms and do bench lunges. Awkward, until I decided I didn't give a damn who was watching.

 

So I figured whatever and I went back to my room to change into my bathing suit. I found a hot tub and oh baby....Feeling those jets on my back and feet....I don't know if there's a better feeling on earth. The Einsteins actually put up a sign to not exceed thirty minutes of use. Yeah like anyone follows this crap. About thirty minutes later...I could have fallen asleep.

 

Back to what I was saying earlier. The people being on in Barcelona got way more love than those of us in Rome. There was a welcome dance party. Now since it was a cruise, they had to do all the classic white people dances, also only the ones I can probably do.

 

"To the left, take it back now ya'll"
"Left, right, forward, back, turn, and repeat..."

And whatever this "Despacito" song is, I guess it has a dance that is going go right with them.

It really felt like a brand new cruise had just begun. God knows there wasn't any welcome party for those of us who boarded in Rome. But it was the kind of party I felt comfortable with. Maybe it was because I'd been drinking. Seriously though, I think it was because everyone felt like an individual.

After a shower in my room, I turned on the British tv station and began watching a dog show. It was sort of like their take on "Dog Whisperer." I guess I passed out in the room, because when I woke up, the time was at 8 pm. I went downstairs and was annoyed to find out that mom and I had to wait 40 minutes for a dinner table in the dining room. The only thing there was to do was kill a few minutes in Central Park listening to live classical guitar.

 

Dinner was at 8:45 and I had beef carpaccio. Thanksgiving Turkey, and creme brulee. From there, I went to the 60 seconds game show, where contestants competed against each other. Not much needs to be said except I found out the host was a New England fan... which led me to booing incessantly. Hey, he offered the info about himself, it was my job to show him the error of his ways.

I went to another comedy show in more of a club setting as opposed to a theater setting. All I can I is that Paul Ogata is way funnier when he can be dirty and not family oriented. At midnight, a big balloon drop was scheduled on the main promenade. There were probably a thousand that got dropped. I can't imagine the cleanup crew was too overjoyed around 2 am. Three beers at Copper and Fiddle and that was the end of my night.

 

I've got to say something about the evenings here. I feel civil inside. I can't bear to stay in my room with nothing to do. I'd go crazy with boredom. So I go out, I listen to music, I see a show, hear some comedy, play some trivia. The issue with it is it's so difficult for me to see everybody else with someone else. I really want to be over that. I mean I can go have fun, but in the back of my mind, the isolation bug bites at me. And the informal singles meetups are ridiculous. Nothing but seniors.

Most of Monday was played simple. I woke up at 8:30, went to the gym (only ran half a mile and then lifted), ate breakfast, sat by the pool, and had salad and jerk pork for lunch. And a few thin slices of rare roast beef and cheese.

 

Volleyball was a defining moment. As I'm typing this, I'm really trying to make sense of it. In spite of constant judgment and slander that I face constantly, I am continually trying to grow as a person. I will never be perfect. I may never have a perfect day. But in seeking that perfection,  perhaps I'll catch excellence.

 

I had been waiting hours and I probably think it was about five hours for volleyball to start. I love playing it in the pool, some of the best memories of my life are playing it in Mexico. And I played with a dozen people for maybe 45 minutes today. Had an amazing time, I was laughing, passing the ball around, handing it to the little kids because I wanted them to feel included. Then... the pool guy announced there would be a tournament. And inside, I knew my mind shift had changed. The happy guy who is inclusive, generous, and funny gave way to the competitor who is determined, who's focused, and worst of all, had to do well.  I'm not saying my team had to win, but we had to be competitive. What I have felt is I can't handle is lack of effort. It wasn't about winning a prize.

I had five other guys on my team and they all seemed athletic. We lost both games we played. In the first, we surrendered the last four points to lose 20-18. The second, this one guy served nine straight points to close the game out. It was embarrassing. I walked off, disgusted with myself. I got a Boston iced tea from the bar. I couldn't shake the anger all the way back to the room. I got back inside and as I opened the door, mom had just gotten out of the shower. I shrieked. All I wanted was to change clothes and go drink.

 

I sat on the balcony and asked to be left alone. She came back five minutes later and dressed me down about as bad as I've ever had it. I almost feel that I shouldn't even include this, but I'm a straight shooter even if it's about my own flaws. She accused me of not being able to hold a mature conversation, which is really just a reference to the two men she married and her sister and so now she throws it on me. Apparently because I miss my two dead dogs and bring them up most days, that's a character flaw and a sign of immaturity. She also said she'd leave Italy immediately after the cruise if she could. I'm dreading that damn upcoming day in Rome because I'll need to be near her most of the time. How sad is that? She referenced twenty years ago when she stopped traveling with me because of how I treated her friends and their kids and nothing had changed. It was so absurd. First of all, I didn't have friends as a kid, I was bullied. I didn't trust people because I expected them to ignore or bully me. I've never thought about this aspect of it until today, but maybe I looked at her friends as threats in that they would take her time and attention from me.

 

She also said I give these mean, cynical, disrespectful smiles in the midst of conflict. I think that's only because I don't want to get angry and I'm trying to counter the angry thoughts and my tendency to become defensive. I don't want to yell and escalate the situation. I really don't think there's any acceptable response in her eyes other than for me to say she is right about everything. And of course she made her grand future statement, every rant from her includes one of these. She can't count on me mentally, physically, or financially and it will take a ton of work on my end (see how it's only my end) for us to be right. And it's for reasons like these that she's doesn't think I have a girlfriend.

After a few minutes of this, I subtly turned my audio book back on, trying to figure out what had happened in my mind. But I made an effort to block out what she had said. There were no questions from her, none of my thoughts were welcome. And I knew I could not show any emotion whatsoever. I just sat there, blankly looking out to sea, as one verbal bullet after another struck. This time, I was not smiling. I didn't think we were going to be together the whole trip... that's why we're on a cruise!!! Maybe it's just different expectations.

 

Anyway I had dinner alone in the Windjammer cafe; I had zero desire to dress up for a formal dinner. I started with a plate of Mongolian stir fry, I got to create my own with mushrooms, peppers, onions, carrots, garlic, beef, chicken, chili paste, and noodles. All I needed was the broccoli. It tasted great, just a little oily. Then I had a plate with salmon, two chicken breasts, grilled vegetables, and a piece of rosemary focaccia. No dessert. Guess I'm really going for that high protein, low carb thing.

There wasn't any entertainment I was especially interested except guitar hits in Central Park. Well there was no guitar player to be found. But there was a mother. She was having dinner at Chops, one of the specialty restaurants in Central Park. I would never dream of eating in one of those restaurants on my own. I left before she could see me, or maybe she did see me and played it cool. I just couldn't bear to talk to her in that moment. I didn't really think a productive conversation was going to happen in that moment.

 

Thankfully for Schooner's, there were a couple of Brit girls to be found. I didn't really care that I'd had four shots of Johnny Walker on the rocks, I loved getting to know them, even the married ones. Something about those foreign accents, they can be damn seductive.