Christmas Cruises are for ... travelers

D. Linsey Wisdom
Dec 22, 2018
3 min read

I am officially a cruise convert.

I really have never been interested in cruises. One, I get motion sickness like crazy. (Thank you friends who turned me on to sea bands). Two, I have an irrational fear of water. Irrational to the point that I am convinced I am going to wind up in one of those movies where I am stranded alone as the sole survivor of some wreckage into shark infested waters. I saw Jaws when I was three. I never recovered.

But having completed my first cruise?? Oh, there will be more.

I love planning vacations in advance, and being able to pay them off so that by the time you get on board – unfettered hedonism with no need to ever pull out your wallet.

Getting on board, however, was its own adventure. We decided not to fly down to Miami for our Christmas cruise, because flights QUADRUPLED in prices for the week of Christmas. So, what’s a 12-hour drive after a day in the office? People say you can make in 10 hours from Atlanta. I do not know how, and I clearly cannot. So, we drove until exhausted. We pulled into a rest stop for a few quick hours of shut-eye. On the night when it was 45 degrees. In Florida. Go figure. I am also no longer 20. Sleeping in the car in a rest stop lost a bit of its allure decades ago.

We were back on the road at 4:30 a.m. – until just south of Jacksonville, my tire disintegrates. Not blows -- the whole sidewall of the tire, just gone. What a horrible time to pop open your trunk and find that, in the cutout where the spare should be, dealers now sell cars with just a “use this to inflate your tire” kit. Uh, that is a negative when the whole tire is gone. Luckily, I have roadside assistance, which sent me a tow truck at 5:30 in the morning, while I was standing on the side of the freeway shivering in the cold. By the time I got towed back to Jacksonville, Wal-Mart (the only place open that early) already had three people ahead of me and a two-hour wait to replace my tire. Now, I am at least 5 hours to the port.

Thank you to the beautiful people in the Jacksonville Beach Wal-mart, who sprung to action when I started crying.

“We gotta get that girl on a boat!” they shouted, after I volunteered to pay off any customer ahead of me to let me cut in the line (no one made me follow through on that offer). We were off!! By 8 a.m.! Miraculously pulling into Miami by 12:45. (You do the math. Yes, I pushed the edge of my “no speeding” boundaries).

We go to the parking deck address where I had reserved a space for my car for the week. Only … no deck. Just an empty lot with a pay machine and no one around. Frantically Googling the parking company, I located another address and raced across town. Again, no luck. There was a deck, and luckily there was a guard, who let us know that the parking company had been located there … six months earlier. She gave us another address. Before leaving I happened to believe that was the first address we were at, so we stopped again to confirm the address with the guard. “Oh,” she said nonchalantly. “The company changed names. Look for ‘x’ parking garage.” What?!? Three address changes and a name change and you forget to put that on your website or email confirmation or RECEIPT?

However, we made it. With so little time they did not even take or check our bags.

By then I was ready for a vacation.

Cautionary tales, but my travel is almost always an adventure.

Even though we wound up on Carnaval, and I was concerned it would be too “family-oriented” --my kids are grown so that is not always what I am seeking in a vacation – they did a great job of catering to adult couples as well as the kiddos. And they kept the two pretty separate.

Food. Oh word, so much food. And cocktails. And comedy. And shows. And towel animals. AND IT SNOWED IN THE ATRIUM ON CHRISTMAS DAY. And there were carols. And parties. And pictures. And dressing up. And dressing down. And having every single need met you could possibly want or desire on a moment’s notice.