more Harumi...

Harumi seems to want me to stretch myself.....she asks in a really nice way if I want to take a little walk (I don't of course, but she is so cute, how can I say no) so she took my skis (she has "skins" on hers...felt things that enable her to basically walk up hill) and she asks me if I am cold or hot or hungry or thirsty and we go. At one point I was on my hands and knees with poles in one hand, crawling up rocky, slippery, something that felt very much like a bad clip from a K2 movie. Honestly if i had looked, I would frozen. She claims nothing could have happened...that I was not on the edge of a cliff, but it felt like it. At the top, (see me in the picture with the cross) one gets to write one's name in a book. (this is kind of a thrill) so I write: EBW from California, and HARUMI.
Then down we go...and we are completely alone and it is so strange and beautiful to be alone-such a rarity and I think- kind of an honor. I have a theory though that these mountain guides can sometimes get so caught up in the snow that they forget they have a flailer behind them....The drill is, she goes first and I am supposed to go exactly next to her tracks...that way the risk of avalanches is controlled (she in essence goes first so I will be safer) and we preserve snow for other people and also I can see if the terrain is rocky or weird or whatever. But sometimes I feel the need to go a slightly different way- rogue if you will. After I had done this a few times, she kind of woke up and said, um Errie...you need to go right next to mine. But she is so blissed out and blinded by her love of the fluffiness that this was almost a secondary thought to her. Me, i love the stillness. Yes it is fun to go through a field of powder....but I am not sure it is as fun as following her down a run as fast as I can maybe at the end of a day...close to crashing and close to topfen strudel.

Photos at last

From Left to Right: Harumi holding her little box with some hello kitty like symbol on it, and chocolate; me at the top of a hike; thomas a few days ago in deep snow.

More later...xoxo

auf wiedersehen

So we left lech on the most beautiful day we had had in four weeks, and drove to the Munich airport where we were supposed to spend the night. But it was so depressing, I looked at thomas and said basically get us out of here. Love this about TW....got us on a night flight, pay 500 Euros for 11 minutes of being in the room, and off we go. Arrive at midnight..so so happy, to wake up here. The hotel is an old palace on the Bosphorus.
All Istanbul updates however will have to be done by my sidekick and competitor in Blogging, Frederick...he has all the pictures.
We fly to Dalaman now, where one of the crew pics us up, drives us half an hour to boat.
xoxo

Last night: yoga, and vino

Thomas and I hired the yoga teacher at the new fancy hotel owned by the richest man in Russia, and treated K and her American guest to a session. Lordy, it was funny. The teacher suggested we exercise outside because it was so beautiful; and it was spectacular. K shows up in large dark sunglasses looking like a South American dictator's wife, (Thomas keeps saying VIVA LA REVOLUTION!) and does not take them off during the yoga. She is also apparently against any actual form of movement..she is looking for a breathing class, or perhaps a sort of group nap if you will. But we ignore her protestations at being in public for yoga, and we start...I have told the teacher before that a woman is coming who really needs some sleep, so heavy on the Savasana.(aka corpse pose aka lying down) Not heavy enough for our girl. After a few rounds of sun salutations-pretty standard yoga routine, K calls it to a halt in her clipped, British-accented English: Excuse me? why does this have to be so fast?! (we are going with the breath...inhale step forward, exhale, step back...) the teacher is bit confused by the question.
fast? Perhaps the real question K was asking is why do we have to stand up at all? And all of this is making my heart go faster, and I am sorry, but isn't yoga supposed to be relaxing? Patient American friend is a whiz at yoga, and stays in her pretzle position until all this is sorted out. Lazy American friend (me) takes the opportunity to lie down. I mean why bother standing if we are not sure of the direction, philosophically speaking of the class? you know?
Hero Thomas however is very strict with K and is determined she take her medicine. From the downward dog position he yells at her in German (always better for barking) It is to WARM UP!! that is why we are doing this!
Yoga teacher wants to be accommodating, I mean this is a Mrs. S of the famous hotel, but how to achieve exercise without the heart beating a tad faster, at least at the beginning is daunting.
Thomas yells at her to chop chop and we go again, but even more slowly. But problem child rears her troublesome head again....she gets up and goes to the water and starts handing out bottles. Thomas is shaking his upside down head: Bloody hell, can a Schneider stop serving people for 5 minutes???!! we do not need water, or a gin and tonic or anything! just for an hour.
Oh sorry she says, it is just that I was so hot...
Um says the teacher..yes, well, technically we are here to warm up..and water, well cools one down, and there will be time for water later....
Fine.
Back we go: inhale, step forward, exhale good, very good..oh this is a strong class (clearly she learned in her how-to-teach-rich-people yoga class that compliments get people through the darkest hours.)
And then a long long lie down. I had written a testy sms to K before, asking if she was coming to yoga, or would she be "making love to some bloody chickens?' and to keep in mind " I did not fly 6 000 miles because I was hungry." K tells me that during the entire class, all she could think of was how, exactly, one could do that. I mean how would one even kiss a chicken? Do they have lips? absolutely no inner zen whatsoever.
alas.
Later at dinner her friend hears this story and says, Oh don't you know? she gets in a fight with every yoga teacher.
So we have a lovely, kind of sad dinner with the French/American couple..we drink some unusual champagne, some special Chablis and some 1979 Chave hermitage. And this is an experience...not at all like drinking regular wine. Normally these discussion bore me to death, but this was something else...it is so different tasting that you drink it really really slowly-like it is telling a story or something, or it is not wine at all but a strange nectar. One would not want to drink it every night, but it has the startling effect of silencing the swill-er in you. It slows time down, makes you pay attention. We were lucky to have shared it with them. The husband is really modest and serious and clearly ob-sessed with keeping perfection going. We discussed California and Napa and the story is basically that the climate and the soil there are perfection. He told of taking some Napa Valley soil to his lab and they called him to say it was so absolutely perfect for grape growing, that it should be bottled. He says with no hyperbole that some in CA have managed to create an actual perfect bottle of wine. Perfection has been achieved. And here comes the but. But, that does not mean it is necessarily better...just perfect.
Now I have a lot to ask on this one.....but it is late and Thomas and F are antsy. So I do not have the answer to this conundrum.
But go and drink some Chave...16 generations of this constant love and attention and passion and genius...got to have lead to something tasty.

photos

These were taken three years ago, but it is the exact same picnic spot where we were yesterday.

Picnic

K had been up with some new guests, as well as the French, as well as the Austrian winemaker who had been just passing through, until 2 am; so naturally the next day she organized a picnic for 40.
Thomas, as those who love him know, has a strong instinct to protect the vulnerable, the duckling who seems to be paddling but not quite keeping up. So his sights are set squarely on K. He is this close to having her kidnapped and sent to a zen retreat for a year or two.
We sent Frederick with the group into the wilderness, and took the long way over the mountain to the picnic. It took about 2.5 hours, (900 calories according to Thomas' special watch) which is not long for lech standards. But there has been a cumulative effect of all this hiking, and we both announced to each other and no one in particular, that it was time to stop. It is time to lie on our backs while someone dribbles chocolate mousse into our mouths. It is time to go sailing.

But we arrive in a place that is simply a joke it is so picturesque: little hut, grazing cows, bubbling river, and turquoise swimming hole at the end. We jump in because cold water does wonders for legs that never ever want to walk up hill again.
This is the spread: sausages followed by sausages. I am not kidding. Little salamis that I briefly thought we were supposed to roast, (G, in his most five star Austrian hotel owner way, gently pointed out that one does not roast a salami. ) then bigger ones...bratwurst, weiss wurst..all of them,,which we put on sticks and cook. (warm? hell if I know) Of course I attempt this with a tiny little branch...again, the error of my ways is pointed out by someone....um, San Francisco? that is not going to work. The American wife of the 15th generation wine maker says to me, yea well just wait til it comes time to make smores! we will crush them. Also the sight of her husband with his vuarnets (ok maybe he didn't actually wear those, but it is funny) to protect his face from the smoke, and this slightly dissatisfied, unsure, skeptical look that only a 15th generation French winemaker can make, is killing me. If only I had a picture.
K had made potato salad, bread, blah...at this point I am shoving anything in. Then a beer cooled in the river, then collapse on blanket listening to all these wonderful Austrians talking really fast and my brain is having so much fun trying to keep up. The accent is difficult to dissect, especially when they speak quickly- it feels like being pulled along behind the car. But this particular accent is the voice of the mountains to me, and I bathe in it.

We leave before the rain comes, get on a little local bus, and head back through the valley back to the village. K then goes home and prepares dinner for another 10. Thomas and I go out to dinner because we cannot watch this. She says, oh we are brining the chicken for Tuesday!

Thomas is sure she will be soon be seen in nothing but her apron, her protective onion glasses, and a gun running through town killing all tourists.

Squab (pigeon) and rabbit

The French have arrived. Friends of the Schneiders....American wife, lovely, and according to K a better cook than she is...and her serious French husband whose family has been making wine since the 15th century. (Chave winery in case anyone wants to look it up). Needless to say, they come prepared. After driving seven hours with two small children, the first thing this woman wants to do is get into K's kitchen. When I walk in she is gutting little, lets call them pigeons, blood everywhere, heads on. She seems happy about this. Also on the stove, for the next night's dinner is rabbit. Thomas mumbles "what ever happened to nouvelle cuisine..."
We were in Zurich, so we missed the squab fest, but last night had fennel and mushroom salad (apparently there is a male and a female version of fennel. This woman asks K to please hand her the female and even crazier, K seems to know what this means). As a hostess gift, she has brought glasses to wear while chopping onions and K is wearing them as I arrive. It is all so insane to me. There is of course wine, do not ask me to describe. It was good. His family is considered one of the very best winemakers in all of France...so you can imagine he doesn't crack a lot of jokes....
Tomorrow there is some picnic with a huge group, Thomas and I will hike there and gorge and swill. It is coming to a close, this Lech summer. I cannot say it was my favorite-still liked it, but the weather was tough and there were so many people in town, it was almost too much. Anyway, a few more days and then a night in Munich, and then Istanbul. Back to sunburnt Dutch captain and no exercise whatsoever.

lech photos

Clockwise from the top:
Frederick on our terrace. Thomas asleep after sauna, Thomas with a Gormley statue, cow, adorable Swiss kid in the building, mountains


You might notice not a lot of sunny pictures...when the sun did come out, I never thought to take a picture...but then again the Lech vacation is not for the faint of heart. We have been walking so much, I have now lost any appetite. No kidding...I told Thomas this on our latest walk, and he said Oh yes that is because your body thinks if you are going to keep walking up hills like this it had better shed a few pounds. That and you are not eating enough carbs. Meat is harder to turn to sugar and that is why you are dizzy. This is the man I married. Fear not bloggers, I am not a thin waif, yet. But if I do not get onto that floating boat restaurant in Turkey soon, I might.
Frederick is loving life...going to the Schneider's house every day the first week with four other boys: three from Germany and one cousin of Luis'. They were quite a group. F told me "Luis has every thing a kid could want: his own soccer field (a mini one behind the house), and ipod touch, and the biggest bed i have ever seen."
They hiked, played soccer, went to the pool, had sausage roasts, swam, biked, all with the Schneider babysitter and often on their own. The freedom children have around here is bliss. I cannot tell you how grateful I am this little San Francisco kid gets to have just a taste of it. He is now in soccer camp with the local kids and a German coach. He says they taught them the "Zidane" whatever that is. Presumably not the head butt.
I have my system for the walks..music, gummi bears and absolutely no talking to anyone. Poor thomas....I have given up the standard Lech greeting to anyone they encounter..because it is just irritating. Katia and I have decided that on long hikes, a feeling of hatred inevitably crops up and will be directed usually at the husband in front of you. Bit like childbirth, that....all pain is forgotten, and the next sunny day one is looking at one's husband and saying: why don't we try for a girl? and off we go up hill again.

I am watching the sun and the markets go down...more guests come to the Schneiders tomorrow...we will try to be mellow, but one is a winemaker from Burgundy whose family has been doing this since the 15th century. Good news is he has an American wife who is a margarita fan, so of course the Schneiders thought of me...
xoxooxo

Pictures at last

These are from (long ago) Madeira..we have since spent two weeks in the algarve chez Wehlen, and are now in Lech. Oh well, better late than never.

All in all it was the most relaxing place ever. Warm, soft air and crashing surf. Lots of cliffs and flowers. Thomas and I slept like zombies, with thomas announcing it was the most relaxed he has felt in a long time. Hence so many pictures of Thomas in bed...It has a really temperate climate being very near to the top of Africa which helps the sleep i tell ya....most famous resident is cutie Christian Ronaldo the soccer player who they say got so good by losing the ball and having to run all the way down these very steep hills to get it back.

Brown nail polish was put on at the spa....see above, and a really nice kid who spoke perfect English (British school) and played with Chico.

I promise the next entry will not be so delayed!
xoox

photos

(Top) Charlie, Frederick and Sophie Wehlen
jumping into Lake Zurich, smelling roses
hugging bomb
Charlie making Vroom vroom sounds
Peter and his fans

Reid's Palace Hotel

There has been some confusion about Charlie's injury. He did not break anything, but put a large gash in his leg which required two stitches. Andrew has a very funny picture of him in the room; perhaps I can prevail upon him to send it to all of Charlie's fans. Above is photo taken after he got out: Notfall of course is emergency room.
The hotel here in Madeira as I have said is a throw back...some Englishman Reid-started it, and Churchill among others came round in the day. There is high tea and tea dances and more than a whiff of the glory days of Empire. It is huge, with long winding hallways filled with pianos and chintz furniture. It looks like the Burlingame club upstairs, but larger with more mysterious dead ends. The cool part is, it is built on a cliff-Madeira is very cliffy and the water can be very rough. Andrew says there is a surf break here and we intend to check it out.

Our first night we rushed down past the pools and assorted tourists to the lounge chairs that hover just above the crashing waves. It is too cool...there is a pool built into the cliff that is filled with the sea water...waves crash into it. There are also three meter and five meter boards (depending on the tide...high tide, they are a lot lower). So Frederick was keen to get in and we descend the ladder or jump in depending on who you are (me and F respectively) but then once in, we discover that the swell is much bigger than it looked from above. There is also a huge current that has brought hero Thomas rather far from us. So F and I try to swim and it is simply impossible. We are kind of laughing, like people do who are debating whether or not to panic...and then we see these ropes hanging in front of us..in various lengths. When we saw them before, we thought they were toys...alas no. They are there so you can catch yourself before the water pushes you against the jagged rocks. Fun! F and I grab on and are pushed here and there with the waves, I am wondering how in the hell I will get to the ladder in a dignified manner and if not, how this will affect dinner. Eva and Claus are above us wringing hands, as is an alarmed life guard who tells us then about the red flag. He is not that psyched. So we swing swing...until thomas swims over and talks us in. And then in typical Thomas fashion ...he and Frederick jump in again because he does not want F to leave the water in a nervous state. I decline.
But it is wonderful wonderful to plop on a chair and have all this crashing around you. Born by the ocean people sleep really well to that sound and I am sleeping all the time-late in the morning and again on the lounge chair.
There are more lizards than I have ever seen in my life...Charlie would have enjoyed. And the lunch buffet, while not Sardinia level, is plenty good. Big ol dessert table...with chocolate mousse that is the most insane thing I have ever had. Thomas finds it too over the top. When a German Protestant tells you a bed is too soft, or mousse is too "chocolatey" you know you have hit pay dirt. I intend to meet the man who made it. And I will be wearing perfume.
Eva is giving Frederick German lessons every day in her room. He has to read to her, and then write a dictation. I really threw him under the bus on that one..."He would love that Eva!!!" and then I go to the spa. I am not proud of this...but she is a frustrated elementary school teacher so what the hell.
It goes without saying we miss Charlie. For one, Thomas and I are playing just a tad more ping pong than we would otherwise; Most importantly fewer people walk up to us with gifts. It is not uncommon when one sits with Charlie for people to come by, their hands filled with offerings, like he is some mafia don. Seriously...a man gave him a fist full of vouchers on the QM2 for no reason that anyone can discern. He kept calling them voy-(rhymes with Joy) chers...which was annoying to his cousin who did not get any, even though he knew how to pronounce them.

Check out the new "Photos" entry for some London ones...

Notfall

Yes, indeed we made a trip to the emergency ward. We were on our way to an indoor pool with very high diving boards: five meter, 7.5 meter and lord help me- 10. (multiply all by 3 to get to feet people) But Thomas thinks it is safe, and F wanted to try the 7.5 for the first time. Charlie was of course all in. But before we could make it to the pool, he crashed into a stone bench he and F were leaping over. In come the Swiss bademeisters and very officially and calmly tell us we need to go to the Spital.
Andrew was not amused. We were treated well but then given the horrible news that Charlie could not swim basically until he left the country.

Eva's reaction was so sympathetic. Oh the poor thing!!! So unfair. Just so unfair!! (as if the bench hit him) No swimming??!!! Oh he must come to Madeira with us! Did you say he wanted a new soccer jersey? (andrew did not want to cough up the three digit amount)...I will get him one!!
Really it is clear to me now that Charlie has the right instinct in not worrying at all if he can't find a job. Between the loyalty and admiration he inspires from strangers, and his skill at stealing bagels, he will be fine.

It really was funny to watch this meeting of hearts and minds between Charlie and the Wehlens. I was a bit worried he would throw something and hit a painting. But instead he would wander up and say (again in that incredible voice) How much does this cost Aunt Ellie!!!??????? And yes at first blush many of the principals the Wehlens hold dear, like eating fruit or wearing underwear are anathema to Charles. But he is just so enthusiastic about everything-ping pong, and food and life and most endearing of all- about the German language. He is totally committed to learning it so he and F can chat secretly. I bought him a kids' book called Easy German and he and F would wander up and down the street, chatting in the restaurant, every moment they did not have a paddle in their hands, practicing German sentences. Who can resist a kid like that?

People like to say Germans do not have a sense of humor; this of course could not be further from the truth. They just don't mock themselves to get a laugh. But they are more than happy to laugh while you mock yourself. And charlie stories just killed them. They could not keep the muesli down.

Frederick is presently in his grandparents room for a German lesson with Eva. I am afraid we threw him under the bus on that one. She bought him a lot of very nice books and he goes to her room and has to read them aloud. He finds this very embarrassing-reading to a grown up. But Eva is a frustrated elementary school teacher and wants her mitts on him. Plus then thomas and i go to the gym. Frederick is in this huge room all alone-not connected to us and I think he is loving it....thank God Charlie couldn't come because the mini bar and on-demand-movie bill would have been huge.

Last Day of QM2/ Chu Mu takes on Land

I am writing to you from the Reid's Palace Hotel in Madeira. Ain't bad. We are on cliffs over looking the Ocean, with port wine as far as the eye can see.

But I will have to tell you about the last night on the ol ship.. it was the happiest ever, (usually the last night we fall into mini Teutonic depressions) due to us laughing at Chu Mu. We had the usual round of toasts and Crepes and put the children to bed. As we walked out of their room for a last walk around the deck, we heard music coming from our favorite bar far down the hall. And the reason it was notable was because, after many nights of talking about my father and his absence, we hear none other than Scott Joplin drifting towards us, compelling me to rush over to it. I will have to look up which song it was, but it was a slow, sad, lovely one. For the non initiated, Charles Adams Brigham loved Scott Joplin, and played it on 8 track tapes in his big American cars when we went for evening drives on summer vacation. For his children it is the soundtrack to, if not his soul, then much of his personality.
Writing about it now of course it doesn't seem significant, but it was then. Nearly crushed me...because it was so clear he had something to say about missing out, or how much orange juice goes into Crepes Suzette..who knows. But I am fairly certain he wants to say hello.

Anyway, back to london. Charlie was ecstatic to see Andrew and talked his ear off, at least until we saw Peter, and then Charlie, Peter and Frederick were inseparable until we left for Switzerland. They do not leave his Mary Poppins like side..their little faces as close to his as possible, spouting anything they can that might make him laugh as hard as he makes them laugh.
Best part was I learned that not only is master charlie a great foodie in the making, but he smells the roses. Literally. I will post pictures of his nose crammed into every rose, lilac bush, rosemary bud he saw. At one point Frederick was hugging a missile and Charlie was grinding up rosemary to show me how it increased the smell. Good news is a bit of this rubbed of on F, who asked me to buy him a rose so he could carry it around smelling it.
The next edition will be devoted to Charlie hitting, and conquering Switzerland. Truly a sight to see. The Wehlens fell head over heels in love with him. (I believe he might be in the will). They noted he is energetic, but they find him utterly charming. Eva described the misstep that landed him in the emergency room (more on that later) as a cruel and unjust turn of fate. She even took a stab at blaming Frederick for not protecting Charlie from the bench that he was jumping on. At one point Eva was looking at the children playing outside the window of the restaurant we were in and said: He must give his mother a lot of joy. (long pause)
And a lot of worry.
Yes I said, yes he does.

Below are Frederick's thoughts:
Hello again! The last day on the boat was very sad. All I could think of was how sad it was to be leaving this magnificent liner. All we did that day was play ping pong and eat. Anyway, in London we saw Peter and he started yelling to me and Charlie(This is Frederick speaking, sorry for the inconvenience!)when he opened the door to his office. Now, Switzerland: the Alps in the background and small hills and lakes in the foreground. Sadly, trying to conquer this incredible land injured him. This meant he could go no further in his quest to attack the ten meter board.
Though I, went off the 7.5 meter, nobody even went up to the ten because of Charlie's injury.
The story of Chu Mu's deep gash went like this: We were in the kids changing room and no one else was with us because they were all in there respective changing rooms. We were jumping around from bench to bench at the Erlicon( a swimming pool with a ten meter board). Suddenly I heard a yelp from behind me and I turned around to see Charlie sitting on the bench. He had a deep gash in his knee. He looked a it and screamed so loud that the whole pool could hear it. I called Andrew. When he came in he just sat there. My mother came in. A few minutes later some pool attendants came in. They said it was deep and that he had to go to the hospital. When they asked him what had happened he said that he slammed his knee on one of the stone benches.
They bandaged him and called my father. He came 5 minutes later and brought us to the emergency room where Charlie got 2 stitches. He is not allowed to swim for 3 days.

Here we are again!

More to some soon!

First, I apologize about the screw up of the pictures...it is sometimes hard to know which pictures are being uploaded.( I did not intend to send 43 identical pictures of myself !!). I will fix it.

We are now in London and the re union with Charlie and Andrew was so very sweet. Charlie was beside himself with happiness. The last night on the ship was really fun: no one slept well, we were kicked off early, we were miserable in freezing London at first, but are doing better now.
Full wrap up with photos soon.
xo

more pics

Last Day

As soon as his host or hostess shuts down the bar or turns off the coffeepot, a gentleman knows it is time to go home.

(A Gentleman at the table)

Handsome Turk wants to give us his private email. That is the good news. The bad news is: he does this because he finds it very hard to remember people. We are gold level…and the next level is platinum which marks 150 days on the ship; we have logged 28. (He told us that some people take it 4 times a year- Beats flying I guess.)

Boys met the captain. Charlie, true to form, really got into the whole spirit of free prawns. (See photo.) Frederick nervously drank his free, watered down orange juice.

Their march towards world domination wobbled when, in one day Thomas came in second (again) in a golf tournament, and the boys lost in ping pong to people in girdles.

Charlie took extra time with some aging champion to work on a few of his moves. He told me last night he wished the cruise would last four more days!!!!

Today we have seen the planetarium show on the search for extra-terrestrial life and had lunch.

The boys have compiled a list of all they have learned on board:

Shirley temples come from the wine guy, bread rolls come from the waiter. That should get you through til breakfast. (what is the wine guy's name, Charlie? I don't know, I just know he is French).

Vega is the brightest star in our Galaxy. But there are a lot of planets that are brighter.

Uranus is a gassy giant. (Charlie actually learned this in school, but it makes us laugh every time. Even Thomas. )

Frederick needs calories more often with Charlie around. When Charlie says Vidi is in a mood, (inside Brigham joke) that is the signal for the banana. Then they go back to paddle tennis.

Two beeps signals the elevator is going down.

The proper slice serve in ping pong.

Do not underestimate the elderly.

There are three full service fro yo stations here. If one is closed, do not panic.

My favorite part has been eavesdropping on their conversations. Charlie has his life planned out: he will move to NYC, make some money, then move the Paris, and after a "solitary life" will marry a French woman. Frederick thinks he wants to be a naval architect. All other details are vague.

If he were a "ho bo" Charlie would live near a bagel shop. I would look for a job says Frederick. What if you couldn't find one? asks Charlie. I would keep looking. They go back and forth- frederick refusing to entertain the possibility that no job is available. Charlie's back up plan is to steal bagels. Then you would go to jail when the police come says Frederick. I know that says Charlie, but then when I got out I would still go back (to the life of bagel crime).

Their little faces are still so cute to me, I want to kiss them like they are babies. But I do not.

Every year I think of CAB and how he would have loved this...all this open ocean. And how he would have delighted in these children, as Thomas and I do. One evening Frederick took off down the hallway to get a head start on his big cousin-tearing away at full speed. Charlie ran after him, waving his arms and yelling in that crazy high angel voice of his: FEDDIE!!!! they crashed into and past a Filipino server, and took a sharp left out of view. Thomas and I and the gentle Filipino laughed, because it is impossible not to.

And I thought to myself- My father missed things by going early. He missed this little hallway run, and I am sorry for that.

Wide World of Sports

Far Left CMB following the director around, angling for a good draw; bathrobe man; bathrobe man's friends react to CMB's shot.

As reported, the boys had tough draws in the table tennis tournament and did not last long. Charlie came running up to me: Aunt Ellie!!!!! Frederick has to play Sallly!!!! Sally, a vixen like 55 year old in black velour track, suit is apparently very good. Me, I can’t see the difference between anything below the Chinese people …ya got the Chinese, and then the rest of us. Somehow Frederick won. I was not there to see it, so I cannot offer commentary. Lord Chu Mus’s match was funny though. His opponent was a 20 something who had a hangover and was in his bathrobe. (post massage perhaps? ) anyway I heard him talking to his friends before. He was nervous. But then he shows up to a tournament of this caliber in a bathrobe. The match was pretty close. At one point Charlie channeled some Asian table tennis god and whipped a forehand winner ,and all his friend hooted and laughed. Getting beaten by a kid!!!! Well he was never the same after that.

Next round Frederick lost to someone who looked like a cross between Hannibal Lector and Dr. Mengele. Not that we are bitter about it.

Frederick is now blogging about the table tennis tournament.

Well, we got to the second round but then got our you know whats whipped. That’s about it.

In other sports news Thomas came in second (got a certificate!!!) in a golf contest. The children gathered round, but the air was heavy with the question of who actually won. They were discreet: Frederick looked at his feet and Charlie finally ended the silence with Good job uncle Thomas!!! Bit later they asked me what happened. Apparently some guy used a 6 iron to Thomas’ 9. When Charlie heard that, (the kid has never played golf) he seemed relieved. OH!!!!!! That’s what happened.

And for the sports wrap up…..

Almost lost some old lady at the gym. She messed up on the treadmill and was floating with her legs back behind her, bit like a sail. All the while though she was silent. Like she was just waiting for it to end on its own. And the worst part was her companion and others just stood there next to her. I was trying to get off of my treadmill, but was tangled in my ipod..and yelling loudly over my music: HELP HER!!!! God these people have no fast twitch muscles. No ability to react. As I say every year: the lifeboats will be ours for the taking.

Did I mention that Handsome Turk just smiled when I asked him if anyone had ever been murdered on the ship?

Toenails are now pink. Going to meet the Captain. Children love their butler. (Lord Chu Mu is especially good at finding uses for her: Hey Excuse me!!! Can you set up the X box!!!!????)

Today there was a wee bit of romance. A roving band of cousins (girls) approached our heros at their usual spot on the paddle tennis court and started to pelt balls at them. Charlie got into the spirit immediately (f is a bit slower to grasp protocol in these cases) and pelted one hard to the head. The girls were apparently “impressed” according to Charlie, with the speed with which the boys could catch the balls and throw them back. I do not have the heart to tell them of the world of faux compliments from roving bands of girls.

We love sitting aft in the evenings in the hot tub. It is like watching a movie: wild skies and seas, dolphins, rain, sun, wind, blue, black, gray; cool heads and warm bodies-and a moment so satisfying that not even coffee or champagne or conversation could improve it.

Busy day today. Sadly, only one formal night and one informal away from dreaded land.