O’Dark-Thirty: Ships should embark weekly at 11pm so we could get in at a reasonable hour. I feel for the people out partying last night. I was doing homework, and I’m whipped.
One loose end from yesterday: our dessert from the Butcher’s Cut was delivered. Well, mine was. Room Service didn’t have Virginia’s ice cream. When they called to explain, she ordered water and Coke Zero instead. The drinks were delivered with apologies for not having the ice cream. I think the drinks were comp’ed, because I didn’t sign anything.
7:00am: Last view from the balcony.
7:30am: Last moment of panic when I can’t find my key, just to remember that if I’m not in the dark, my key is in the slot by the door.
Virginia just explained the concepts of cruising ducks to the room steward who didn’t grasp a Sharps container. I fear for our duck in the safe.
7:40am: We’re being held up by the number of self-walk off passengers. This is better than “the ship has not been cleared” but not as good as, “we’re delayed, so the Swedish Bikini team is bringing everyone coffee.”
Did I mention I missed coffee in the room?
7:48am: First color called. We’re fourth, I think.
7:58am-ish Group called. One more trek across the Seaside. Only a couple of “meant to do that” moments. I will miss the ship.
8:25am: Met Luggage Forward porter. If we never see the bags again, it’s because Virginia didn’t tip him.
8:28am: In the Uber, heading to FLL. MSC terminal has retina scan recognition so one stop, no passports. Customs is declarations only, no forms to fill out.
8:35am: Traffic jam. Did not miss traffic. This will make disembarking look even faster.
9:02am Exiting for the airport. So, for whomever will ask on Cruise Critic this week, no, you probably can’t make a 9am flight from Ft Lauderdale.
9:10am Check-in for flight.
9:25am: American won’t check bags until four hours before a flight at FLL. Yet another reason to fly Southwest whenever possible.
10:25am: Bored, bored, bored. In an hour, we can check our bags. That’s the only thing keeping me alive at this point.
11:20am: Still bored but ten minutes to go. Then, security. I never thought something would make me look forward to being able to go through security.
1:30pm: Have almost memorized which stations have working plugs or working USB plugs or both or neither. Yes, I am bored. Also, old people talk loudly and repetitively, so you don’t need to be that close to get a status.
Inbound plane should be here in about an hour. Please, Lord.
There are a crap ton of people at the gate for a flight that doesn’t leave for two hours.
2:00pm: Lunch time. Unfortunately, FLL Terminal 3 is a wasteland. We may be eating at the bar. Seriously, people in airports are in a hurry. Why are airports being clogged with low-quality, slow-service, expensive restaurants? Can’t we just have a McDonald’s or Burger King which isn’t the best, but it’s fast and consistent?
2:10pm: Case in point – Jack Nicklaus’ namesake restaurant. Potential customer asked if they have food to go. Greeter said “No, but if you sit at a table and order, you can ask for a to go box.” They left. $13 for a club sandwich. We’ll see how long it takes to get. Lobster nachos as a starter. I would only order lobster in an airport restaurant as my last meal, because it would kill me before the executioner could. At least, they have iced tea. I should have ordered an Arnold Palmer, just to see what they would do.
Sandwiches arrived almost immediately. I hope they were microwaved long enough.
$37 for lunch, and you feel obligated to tip because it was table service. It wasn’t bad, but, Lord, it wasn’t good. Airplane food is starting to look reasonable.
3:08pm: On the plane.
3:50pm: Climbing, on the way home.
4:00pm: Just found out on Facebook that one of our pirate ducks is retiring to England. It looks like that particular duck was found three times in two days, because the other finders rehid him. Most are still unaccounted. Waiting for news.
5:15pm: Preparation for landing. iPad stowed? Check. Tray table up? Check. Seat back up? Check. Seat belt fastened? Check. Now, I need to pee? Check.
5:20pm: Ears popped. I never had this problem at sea level.
5:30pm: On the ground. I need a cruise.
5:40pm: Stuck in the DFW penalty box, waiting for our gate to open up. You know, I have never heard a ship’s Captain say, “Uh, there’s somebody at our dock, so we’re just going to anchor out here in the bay until they can push back and get out of our way. Shouldn’t be more than about ten minutes.”
There are no airlines but American at this terminal. Why does this happen so often? Do they not read their own timetable?
I need a cruise.
5:50pm: Moved to a new gate. Yea! Gate has no crew. Boo!
I need a cruise.
6:00pm: Some times, after a week’s cruise and a flight home, you’re given a sign that you’re just a rookie traveler. As in, the men’s room by A16 baggage claim.
The trip is done.