This ‘n That By Anne Vargas annevargas.3@gmail.com
… continued tales of a timid traveler
I
shared the story last month of my reluctance to accompany my spouse on a cruise where he had been invited to be a guest lecturer. To say I didn’t share his enthusiasm is an understatement; he Anne Vargas managed to get me on that ship only by solemnly promising me we would do it only once. I carried my life jacket, clutched my rosary and clung to the thought that this sea sojourn would ultimately end and I’d be safely back on terra firma in my own quiet corner of the world. Little did I know then what lay ahead with more in the way of adventure than I could ever have imagined. That was cruise number one; now the story of cruise number two: Spouse: “Honey, I’ve been invited to lecture on a leg of the World Cruise”. Me: “The what?” Spouse: “It will be a great experience. The ship sails around the world for 110 days.” Me: “WHAT?” Spouse: “We won’t be on that long; we’ll board in Barcelona
and get off in Florida.” Me: “How many days is that?” Spouse: “Twenty-six” Me: “That’s too long!!!” Subsequent phone conversation, in aftermath of my weeping and wailing: Spouse: “My wife doesn’t want to stay on the ship that long; I looked at the itinerary, could we possibly fly home from Dakar, Senegal?” Cruise line executive, after a rather long pause: “are you sure you really want to do that???” On our 13th day on the ship I grudgingly admitted that the Mediterranean ports we had visited had been lovely, that Tunisia and Morocco had been fascinating, that the ship hadn’t sunk and possibly cruising wasn’t that bad. However, the travel plans I had insisted on were firmly in place and couldn’t be changed so at 8 p.m. on day 14, in Dakar, Senegal, we made our way to the gangway to meet our transportation to the airport. In subsequent cruises we would learn how unusual this was. Departures usually occur in the morning at the conclusion of a cruise but in this instance, we were midway on the itinerary. The ship was in port until midnight and there was only one flight out, late at night. We were the only people disembarking. Dakar was certainly not a port for passengers and seasoned entertainers knew better; they had all opted to stay on board until the ship reached Florida. We would also subsequently learn that transportation to airports is usually in roomy vans with professional drivers. The tiny vehicle we climbed into had no windows, one door was tied on, the fender was hanging off, we had to sit on top of our luggage and the driver spoke no English. I wanted to climb out to seek reassurance from ship personnel that we were in the right car but we sped off into the blackness before I had a chance. The ride seemed endless and I fought mounting panic. The town was totally dark except for light from intermittent oil drum fires where large groups of people gathered to cook and socialize. The dirt roads were full of holes, the car shook, shuddered, and periodically died. My imagination ran wild as I envisioned all sorts of imminent danger. My (Traveler on page 27)
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November 2020 // www.SeniorSpectrumNewspapers.com
