ESSENTIAL EXPERIENCE 14

Posted by Emilio Mazzi

Hotel General Manager, Island Princess

January 18, 2011

The Most Wondrous Wall of All - Beijing, China - What followed was an adventure that literally immersed me in a world completely different from any to which I was accustomed.

The Great Wall of China dates back more than 2,000 years.

It may seem strange, but the travel experience that moved me the most happened not while I was doing my job – but while I was doing someone else’s.  Let me explain….
I arrived in Xingang, China, in late 1992, while working onboard the original Pacific Princess, the cruise ship you may remember as the original “Love Boat” from television. My position at the time was Food and Beverage Director, a role focused entirely on the galley and food preparation areas.
Our China itineraries have changed a bit, but back then we would arrive in the port of Xingang midway through a cruise and would escort passengers to Beijing for a two-day overland trip.
Hmm… here we were in one of the world’s most renowned destinations, and home to one of the most fascinating landmarks I could think of … so guess who was first in line to offer his services as an escort!   On small ships in those days the captain held sway on whether I could leave my post for this adventure and it was no easy task to convince him that my expertise was needed more in a city completely foreign to me than in the food and provision areas of the ship.  Oh, the power of persuasion!
What followed was an adventure that literally immersed me in a world completely different from any to which I was accustomed.
Our trip started off with a bit of excitement.  It had been a long time since such a large group of visitors had come to the area by sea, so the government chose to honor us with a police escort.  The drive to Beijing took about two hours, and we arrived mid-morning.

The Forbidden City, the imperial palace that served as home to emperors for nearly 500 years.

The first stop was Tiananmen Square which stands adjacent to the world’s largest surviving palace complex, the Forbidden City.  The largest public square in the world, Tiananmen serves as a massive meeting place, and was designed to hold one million people. It wasn’t always quite as big as it was during our visit, though. In fact the square was built in 1651 but quadrupled in size during the 1950s. As we stood taking it all in, the place bustled with throngs of local citizens, but also visiting tourists like us. With my “ping pong paddle” held high above my head to keep my charges from losing sight of me, I navigated the square, passing vendors, performers and other local entertainers as I went.  My irreverent mind couldn’t help but draw comparisons between that part of the square and Venice, California — though in place of Venice’s weightlifters, here we had a bevy of martial arts performers.  But atmosphere grew more sober as we reached the Mao Mausoleum at the far end of the square.
Nearby we entered the secretive-sounding Forbidden City, the imperial palace that served as home to emperors for nearly 500 years.  Although it’s now a museum and hasn’t housed a royal family in nearly a century, we could easily feel the grandeur of this huge palace complex.  Although certainly not forbidden anymore, the deep moat and 10-meter high wall surrounding the city may have given rise to its name.

The Great Walls spans 5,500 miles.

Then we headed out – about 45 miles from the city – for the main event.  The name really says it all – The Great Wall.  It’s the single most iconic site in Asia, and just “great” doesn’t really do it justice.   The Chinese actually call it the “Long Wall of Ten Thousand Li,” and it stretches an amazing 5,500 miles, with beginnings dating back more than 2,000 years.  The wall was a unique linking of local fortifications all designed to keep out the barbarians from the north.  But today the hordes come mostly from the south – tourists arriving from Beijing – drawn by its architectural grandeur and historic importance.
In pictures, the wall always looks like a single entity, snaking like a gigantic dragon over hills and through valleys in one long piece. But really it’s a collection of sections built during different eras, across several states, with various types of construction.  In the 2^nd century BC an emperor began to link up many of these sections, but it wasn’t until the Ming Dynasty (1368-1644) that the Great Wall fully earned its western name by becoming the world’s largest military structure.  However, once China’s boarders extended beyond the wall it wasn’t needed for defense anymore, so construction and repair on the wall ceased.

One of the many steep inclines on the Wall.

Today some of these sections are in better shape than others, but the differences are considered important as they illustrate not only how defense techniques advanced over time but also how the Chinese adapted to changing political realities.  The wall was recently chosen as one of the new Seven Wonders of the World and is designated a UNESCO World Heritage site.
Much of this was explained to us on the drive out there, but my first reaction on seeing the formidable stone walls and imposing towers was less about the historic and architectural significance and more simply … “WOW!”
We climbed up to the main entry and arrived atop the wall.  Do we go right or left?  Well some people went both ways.  I stood and admired the view and felt the wind whipping along the wall.  You could see the wall twisting and turning up and down the hill. We turned to the left and walked along the ramparts, climbing higher and further from the hub of activity.  The stones under our feet seemed to run on forever, without end in sight.  We certainly didn’t walk anything close to the full 5,500 miles, but I felt we covered quite a bit of the wall.
At one point I bent down to collect a bit of stone that had become dislodged from the wall.  I carried it carefully the rest of the day, and now it sits in my home as my most-treasured travel souvenir.
Later, as we were sitting, blissfully exhausted, high up where tourists were fewer, we noticed a collection of local children escorted by their teachers.  They couldn’t hide their curiosity and eventually, after some lingering at the edges of our party and giggling amongst themselves, three of them came running to a young lady in our group. The kids were clearly intrigued by her blonde hair, and they hesitantly started running their fingers through her locks.  They giggled louder and louder, and soon we were giggling too.  I wondered how many in our group realized that most likely this was the first time in their lives these kids had ever seen a person with blonde hair.

A guard tower along the Great Wall.

My journey to Beijing was before the age of digital cameras, so I don’t have pictures from this trip flashing on my computer screen throughout the day.  But I can replay them in my mind.  And my clearest pictures of this adventure are those that weren’t captured on film, but taken with just a beat of my eyelashes.  In these memories the color never fades … I see a man on his rickety bicycle, carrying more cargo than a pick-up truck; a sunset behind the buildings of the Forbidden Palace; and a boy atop the greatest wall of all —  with his hands full of blonde hair.  … And it makes me giggle every time.

ESSENTIAL EXPERIENCE 13

Posted by Tony Kaufman

Senior Vice President of Commercial Affairs

January 11, 2011

A "Homecoming" in a Country of Contrasts - Israel - All of the sudden, as I looked out the window onto the hillsides of Jerusalem, and listened to the sweet but sad song fill the air, it hit me that this was no ordinary vacation and Israel was not just another place to visit.

My family in Jerusalem with the Temple Mount and the Dome of the Rock in the background. From left: me, my daughter Amanda, wife Lisa and son Trevor.

I was born in England and have spent most of my adulthood in the United States.   However, if you grow up Jewish, as I have, Israel is also a part of your life, even though you may never have been there.  The religious, cultural, social and political importance of the country has been a topic often discussed and referenced whether in my religious school education, through observance of Jewish holidays and customs or just generally through cultural osmosis.  As a small example, Passover Seder and Yom Kippur services traditionally end with the participants saying “Next Year in Jerusalem,” as a hopeful wish of fulfilling the dream of visiting the capital city and as a reminder of the importance of the city and the country to the Jewish people.
Despite this, for some reason, I had never made any real effort to visit Israel, opting instead for more traditional vacations such as Europe or the Caribbean.  A recent opportunity to travel to Israel arose through a gracious invitation from close friends to celebrate the occasion of their daughter becoming a bat mitzvah in Jerusalem.  A bat mitzvah (or bar mitzvah for a male) is the most important milestone in the life of a young Jew.  The celebrant leads a service, culminating in the reading of the Torah (a parchment scroll written in Hebrew by hand that contains the Old Testament).  Upon fulfilling these tasks, the bar or bat mitzvah is considered part of the adult Jewish community and becomes responsible and accountable for their own actions.  Going to Israel for this reason, and having this service in Jerusalem, adds additional importance and sanctity to this important event.
In addition to the service, our friends had put together an amazing itinerary for touring the country.   My family and I thought this was the perfect opportunity to visit Israel for the first time, and we all decided it was time to go.  It took me 47 years to finally get there – and it was by far the best vacation experience of my life.

The Mediterranean and golden sand beaches of the Tel Aviv offers a modern and relaxed resort experience. The ancient port city of Jaffa is off in the distance.

Israel provided two very different types of experiences that, for me and my family, blended into a seamless appreciation of a complex country.  The somewhat serious religious and historical aspects of Israel revealed themselves in numerous ways and places throughout our visit.  It’s impossible to visit Israel without a conscious understanding and appreciation of Israel’s history, regardless from which perspective it is viewed.  In addition, Israel has another side to it that makes it an exciting and fun place to be.
Tel Aviv falls squarely into the latter – an exciting and fun place to be.
We arrived in Tel Aviv and our first introduction to the country was through a taxi driver.  Unsolicited, he began to talk with pride about how a barren and dry desert has been transformed into productive farming and agricultural industries.  As we passed by large commercial office parks full of software and other technology companies, he commented on how advanced these industries had become and how Israel leads the world in many technological innovations.  This sense of pride in country would be a common theme I would recognize in the various people we met throughout our travels.  It struck me quickly and powerfully that the Israeli people have a connection to and love of their land unlike any other I have experienced in my travels.
As we drove toward Tel Aviv, the cosmopolitan nature of the city immediately became apparent.   The beautiful gold sand beaches and warm Mediterranean ocean serve as a picturesque backdrop to modern hotels, beachside cafes, restaurants, bars and nightclubs.  Tel Aviv offered everything one would expect from a modern Mediterranean resort.  Not far from the beach are main boulevards full of shops and more cafes and restaurants, outdoor markets and the familiar buzz of a major city.  A highlight for our chocoholic family was a visit to the Max Brenner at the revitalized Old Port, a restaurant which specializes in all things decadent and chocolate.

The site of the bat mitzah at the southern wall of the Temple Mount. The remnants of the Second Temple and buildings are thousands of years old.

After our short stay in Tel Aviv, it was time for the group to head to Jerusalem and the most important, if not more serious, part of our trip.  The group was 26 in number, comprised of our friends and the family of the celebrant.  This part of the vacation was met with great anticipation, as it slowly dawned on us that this was going to be a very special time and experience for all.  We boarded a tour bus and were introduced to Nadine, our tour guide, who would accompany us throughout our visit to explain what we were seeing along the way.
As we made our way to Jerusalem, I had not thought much about the personal significance this trip would have for me.  I don’t consider myself to be a particularly religious person, and primarily, it was a time to be with my family, celebrate a bat mitzvah with close friends and see what the country had to offer.  Nadine began pointing out places of interest as we passed them, while also explaining the historical background and significance of the area and its sites.  Particularly poignant was the history of Jerusalem and the meaning this city has to the many faiths and people who live, visit and worship there.  As we started our ascent to Jerusalem, she remarked on the many battles that had taken place in the foothills below the great city and the struggles over the rights to the city that many generations have endured.  Despite these battles occurring over thousands of years, seeing abandoned military vehicles strewn next to the main highway brought the historical references into the present.

The Western Wall, with the women's praying area to the right of the larger men's area to the left. The Dome of the Rock is in the background.

At some point in the ascent, Nadine’s narration stopped.  The silence was broken unexpectedly as a song was played over the speakers of the tour bus.  The song, Y’rushalayim Shel Zahav (Jerusalem of Gold), is a famous folk song about the city of Jerusalem.  The words and melody were familiar to me as I had heard the song many times before.  Somehow the familiarity with the song combined all the random references to Jerusalem and Israel that had previously pervaded my life into a strong feeling of being connected to the land, even though I had never been there before.  All of a sudden, as I looked out the window onto the hillsides of Jerusalem, and listened to the sweet but sad song fill the air, it hit me that this was no ordinary vacation and Israel was not just another place to visit.  The realization that I had finally made it to Israel, with my family, was powerful.  We were ascending to Jerusalem, a place that means so much to so many.  I was about to complete a journey that I had not even known was so important to me.  It was definitely a “wow” moment.
The bat mitzvah service was held outside, along the southern wall of the Temple Mount, a place of holiness for Jews and Muslims alike.   The area sits in an archaeological site, with large chunks of stone strewn across the base of the wall serving as glimpses into the ancient past, where Holy Temples were built, destroyed, reconstructed and destroyed again over 2000 years ago.  The importance of this site and the authentic nature of its condition left us in awe.   There could be no more appropriate place for a bat mitzvah service.  The service was conducted flawlessly and the celebration (camel rides included) followed.

A magnificent mural within the Church of the Holy Sepulchre depicts Jesus being prepared for burial.

On the following day we explored Jerusalem in earnest.  The first stop was the Mount of Olives, a famous vantage point for overlooking the City.   The view of Jerusalem was dominated by the Temple Mount and the golden Dome of the Rock.  This is Jerusalem’s holiest Islamic Site, the place from where it is believed Muhammad began his journey to heaven.   Nadine revealed more of Jerusalem and the intricacies of the many different faiths and cultures that co-exist there.  We then made our way along the winding streets of the city, through the Christian, Muslim, Armenian and Jewish Quarters.  The sense of history was palpable as we walked, as was an undercurrent of tension given the thousands of years of unrest that is an integral part of the place.  We toured the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, the awe-inspiring church and site of Jesus’ crucifixion, burial and resurrection.  People from all over the world had come to visit this church, pay their respects and pray.  Even this one church reflects the contrasting nature of the city, being divided amongst Greek Orthodox, Armenian Orthodox and Roman Catholic denominations.
We emerged from our tour of the City at the famous Western Wall, the most sacred site in the Jewish faith and a site of Jewish pilgrimage for over 2000 years.  It is the last remaining remnant of the Second Temple built in 20 BCE and the site where Jews come from all over the world to mourn the loss of their ancient temple.  The sorrowful prayers have given the wall its second name, the “wailing wall”.  The wall is divided into two sections in order to accommodate the more orthodox custom of separating men and women during prayer (in order to keep each from distraction and able to concentrate on the more holy matters at hand).   From there we entered underground passages that take you even closer to the site of the original temple as we learned more about the history of the city and the excavations of the site.  Standing at a small alcove with my family, and writing the obligatory prayers on small pieces of paper and placing them into cracks of the sacred wall, again provided a sense of connection and made me wonder what had taken me so long to get there.

My wife Lisa and I leave a prayer in the part of the Western Wall known as "the holy of holy's" in an underground tunnel closest to the foundation stone of the Second Temple. The actual foundation stone lies beneath the Dome of the Rock.

Jerusalem is a city of contrasts.  A mix of religions, beliefs and nationalities co-existing awkwardly in a confined but holy space.   One must experience the city first hand to truly appreciate and understand its relevance and why it is so jealously guarded with so many aspiring to call it home.  Only the most hardened and jaded can visit the city without being changed in some way.
The inspiring yet serious side of our visit to Jerusalem gave way to a tour of the Israeli countryside that shows a more relaxed, fun and adventurous Israel.  From Jerusalem we made our way to the Dead Sea, the lowest point on earth.  We passed by the caves where the Dead Sea scrolls were discovered and marveled at the scenic mountain, cliffs and the Dead Sea itself.  When we arrived at the hotel on the shore of the Dead Sea we could not wait to dive in and experience the acclaimed healing powers of the water and mud.  The water was hot, rather oily and full of minerals with a heavy salt content.  So diving gave way to wading in slowly.  It’s true what they say about the Dead Sea, just about anything floats, and we all had an amusing time playing around with the buoyant effect it had on our bodies.
Close by was another historical landmark, Mount Masada.  The story of this fortress city on top of a high hill is well documented and has come to represent Israeli patriotism of the highest order.  The people of Masada were able to fend off the powerful Roman army for many years.  When the inevitable finally happened and the Roman army breached the final barricade, the remaining inhabitants, rather than surrendering, took their own lives.  Now soldiers of the Israeli armed forces come to Masada to swear their allegiance to country and that Masada shall not fall again.

The view from the top of Mount Masada was worth the climb. In the foreground are some of the ruins of the ancient city. The Dead Sea is in the distance.

When you visit Masada you have the choice of hiking up the mountain by foot, or taking a tram.  We had agreed in advance that we would climb no matter what, and the temperature reaching into the 90s did not deter us.  The climb was harder than I thought it was going to be, but making that trek as a family and finally reaching the top was an exhilarating experience that we will not forget.  And with that memory firmly established, we unanimously agreed we would take the tram down.
After Masada we made our way to the Sea of Galilee region for a few days.  We fired uzi machine guns at a shooting range, rafted down the Jordan River and explored some of the best preserved Roman ruins in the world.  We visited the cobbled streets of Tzfat, which is not only a holy city and a center of Jewish Mysticism (the Kabbalah) but also an artist colony.  We toured the embattled eastern border of Israel, including the Golan Heights.   This region has much to offer the historian and fun-seeker alike.

Finally, a plate of chocolate delectables found only at Max Brenner.

Once we returned from the countryside we visited Yad V’shem, the incredibly moving holocaust memorial museum, and countered the theme of destruction by planting trees in the national forest.  We visited a number of other sites and museums too numerous to mention, including a clandestine bullet factory that was located underground and operated during the independence war under the guise of being a farming kibbutz.   We ended our stay decompressing in Tel Aviv, shamelessly returning to Max Brenner for another dose of chocolate decadence.
Israel is an amazing country, its people are an amazing people.   The juxtaposition of the ancient and modern, frivolous and profound, joyful and sad, serious and playful creates a blend of experiences available nowhere else in the world.  Israel has something to offer all visitors, regardless of their race, religion, political beliefs or interests.  I regret it took me 47 years to get there, but it won’t take me another 47 years to return.

ESSENTIAL EXPERIENCE 12

Posted by Rob Roberts

Manager of Shore Excursions - Europe & Exotics

January 4, 2011

My Grand Tour - Ancient site and Great Cities of the Mediterranean - Over the next few weeks, our team would explore in detail with local experts the treasures of these great cities and ancient sites, trying to see them through the eyes of our passengers.

The Parthenon has attracted visitors to the Acropolis in Athens for centuries.

Sometimes our lives take the most curious of paths. I’m a farm boy from Iowa, yet in 1992 I found myself working onboard a Princess cruise ship as a master dive instructor, certifying our passengers in scuba diving. Me, teaching scuba diving in the Caribbean? How could life get any better, I thought? But it did.
I was promoted to the ship’s tour staff, and spent the next couple of years exploring parts of the world I had only dreamed of visiting. But one thing I never dreamed of was being asked to be part of the team that would take out our then new ship Grand Princess which was about to make history as the world’s biggest cruise ship at the time. And this ship with its pioneering design was going to spend its inaugural season in the Mediterranean. It was the largest ship that had ever sailed in this destination, and we were charged with working out the logistics of bringing her into these ports. No cruise line had ever done it before.
We understood the challenges before us – to create a well-organized experience that would enable the ship’s 2,600 passengers to have just as good an onshore experience as we’d been providing to those sailing aboard our smaller ships for years. It meant rediscovering history, and working closely with local experts to design an extensive range of intriguing options. So, off I went to Europe as part of the advance team. Goodbye coral reefs.

Gaudi’s unique La Sagrada Familia cathedral in Barcelona is still unfinished more than a century after it was begun.

I was aware that a grand tour of Europe and the Mediterranean became a rite of passage for the British in the 18th century, where privileged young men spent the time between their university education and the start of their career with an extended tour of continental Europe. By the late 19th century the Grand Tour had become an American phenomenon, and young men and women traveled the world visiting the great European cities and the ancient sites of the Mediterranean.
I remember reading Mark Twain’s “The Innocents Abroad” in college, which chronicled his own Grand Tour by steamship in 1867, and became one of his best-selling books of all time. To think that here I was, following in these grand footsteps as I helped to plan a similar experience for thousands of passengers.
As part of our preparations we visited each Mediterranean port to see everything passengers would see, and make sure we were ready to handle getting people off the ship and to the various sites. After all, we were taking more passengers on tour than we had ever brought to that area before.

Renaissance architecture abounds in Florence.

Over the next few weeks, our team would explore in detail with local experts the treasures of these great cities and ancient sites, trying to see them through the eyes of our passengers and drilling down to the finest details to design our tour plans.
My grand tour took me to Barcelona where I marveled at the modernist Antoni Gaudi’s famous cathedral, La Sagrada Familia; the Royal Palace in Monte Carlo, the dazzling residence and home to the Grimaldi family of Princess Rainier and the late Princess Grace; the statue of Michelangelo’s David at the Accademia in Florence, the center of the Renaissance.
Then there was Pompeii, the Roman resort tragically buried by volcanic ash from the eruption of Vesuvius in 79 A.D., and one of the world’s most magnificently preserved ancient cities. And enchanting Venice with its famous canals, bridges and cobblestone streets, and the magnificent Doge’s Palace in St. Mark’s Square.

The ruins of Pompeii are a dramatic destination on a Grand Tour.

In Athens there were the glorious marble structures of The Parthenon, built in honor of Athena, goddess of wisdom. Then I traveled to Istanbul which has dominated the Straits of the Bosporus for 25 centuries and saw its 17thcentury Blue Mosque, renowned for its domes and minarets. And from Kusadasi I experienced Ephesus, a treasure of antiquity and historical legend where on its ancient streets Mark Antony and Cleopatra rode in procession and St. Paul preached against the goddess Artemis.
It was the grandest of tours. And in the summer, when Grand Princess finally debuted, all of our efforts paid off. The ship’s first Mediterranean season was incredibly successful. The ship was well received and the shore excursion program went even better than we even hoped and expected. Thousands of passengers experienced the collection of tours that our team had so carefully put together.

The ancient ruins of Ephesus are the main attraction in Kusadasi, Turkey.

I went on to spend five more years in Europe before coming ashore into Princess’ corporate office to oversee the shore excursion program for our 17 ships around the world. Although I will never forget my first glimpses of these iconic destinations, you could say my Grand Tour continues to this day. And the best part of my job is knowing that we create magical “Grand Tour” experiences for newcomers to the Mediterranean on every voyage, and that they’ll share in the awe of seeing these unforgettable places just as generations of travelers have over the centuries – including me.

ESSENTIAL EXPERIENCE 11

Posted by Steve Zadra

Director of Hotel Operations, Princess Tours

From December 28, 2010

New Year's Eve at the Edge of Time - Sydney, Australia - As lights clicked on, illuminating the bridge and the Opera House, suddenly I was looking right at the exact view I'd seen so often on TV.

The awesome New Year's Eve fireworks display Steve and his wife Tracy enjoyed in Sydney on December 31, 2002.

On the last day of 2002, I awoke in Sydney, Australia.  My wife and I had been hiking and snorkeling during our travels “Down Under,” and now we would cap off our adventures by attending one of the most famous parties in the world – the New Year’s Eve fireworks display in Sydney Harbor.  At the stroke of midnight during this iconic celebration, we would be among the earliest to ring in the new year as it gradually rolled across all 24 time zones.
Before Tracy and I got married we compared bucket lists. Being in Sydney for New Year’s Eve was on both of our lists, so we decided to make the experience part of our honeymoon.  We booked a cruise from Sydney to Auckland and spent ten days exploring the east coast of Australia prior to the voyage. We capped off our land journey in Sydney for the main event – New Year’s Eve.
We had the day to explore the city before the evening celebration, and we started with a tour of the Opera House, followed by a walk through the famed Royal Botanical Gardens. We were delighted to find such remarkable landmarks in such close proximity to Sydney Harbor, where the fireworks would go off that night. We could see so much without ever getting behind the wheel of a car.

Steve's wife Tracy outside the famous Sydney Opera House on New Year's Eve 2002.

At the Opera House I was surprised to discover that its multi-tiered shell was not one piece – it’s actually made up of hundreds of interlocking tiles.  Examining it close up, a clear pattern emerged in the tiles, something that was never apparent to me in all the photos I’d seen.
From the Opera House, we headed to the Royal Botanical Gardens, as we were curious about the resident “flying foxes” — the biggest bats in the world.  At moments, it felt like we could have been strolling Central Park, only with Australian foliage.   But then, a branch would move in a strange way.  A wave would sweep across, and suddenly we’d realize that the motion wasn’t from the tree at all but from great clusters of bats hanging from it.  At some three feet across, they were the size of small dogs, and they hung in the thousands from nearly every branch.  It was an entire forest of bats!
By noon we had already seen incredible sights, but the greatest spectacle was yet to come.  It was time to make our way to the fireworks viewing area and set up camp, lest we be crowded out.

The "flying foxes" at the Royal Botanical Gardens.

The city of Sydney takes its New Year’s celebration seriously.   All around the harbor there are various viewing areas, and the zones are mapped out and well organized – we decided to go to the area around the historic site called Mrs. Macquarie’s Chair, which was close enough to the water that we knew it would afford an ideal view of the Harbor Bridge.
Our usual New Years in Alaska are frosty affairs, but here in the Southern Hemisphere it was summer, giving a distinctly different flavor to the festivities.  In fact, the temperature was perfect for an al fresco picnic.  We went to a deli and bought the fixings for a New Year’s feast.   Using my wife’s sarong as a picnic blanket, we staked a claim to our spot as the crowds accumulated. Though we took our time, savoring each bite and chasing it with some of the local beer, by the time our lunch was through we still had some ten hours to kill before the great celebration.
Fortunately, the people-watching was hard to beat. Folks had gathered from all over the world for the massive fireworks display, and we had a patchwork quilt of neighbors, from local Aussies to a family from Scotland.  Everyone was in their little square. Being from Alaska proved a good conversation starter as we chatted with those around us. Locals and other vacationers alike had great tips to share about Sydney’s outstanding points of interest.
We enjoyed the increasing revelry in those last hours of the old year.  People sang songs and formed human pyramids, some 15 to 20 people high.  Street performers added to the festive ambiance. Face painters painted, jugglers juggled, and dancers danced. Mimes moved silently through the fray, while musicians of all kinds filled the air with their cacophony.

The many revelers gathered around Sydney Harbor in anticipation of the fireworks. Approximately 800,000 people watched the fireworks from various vantage points around the harbor in 2002.

As night fell, our sweeping views of the harbor became that much more spectacular. As lights clicked on, illuminating the bridge and the Opera House, suddenly I was looking right at the exact view I’d seen so often on TV. I felt so fortunate to be seeing it firsthand – it was even better than I imagined.
The fireworks seemed to come from everywhere – from barges in the harbor, the bridge and nearby buildings. The display was huge, so huge that the Harbor Bridge itself seemed small by comparison. The energy of the crowd exploded as well, with collective “oooooh” and “aaaaaah” exclamations punctuating each shower of shimmering explosions.  The theme of the year’s event was “peace,” and the climax of the show featured a gigantic, lighted animated dove with an olive branch in its beak that flapped its wings and actually traveled across the bridge.  The grand finale was spectacular – fireworks illuminating the night sky, beating back the darkness, and I remember getting goose bumps as “Peace” was spelled out in sparkling lights on the bridge.
And there we were, among the first in the world to reach midnight and celebrate the new year.  It was an unforgettable way to start our new life together……and to begin crossing off our now combined bucket list.
To continue the story of Steve and Tracy’s honeymoon down under, be sure to read Tracy’s Reader Experience of the Week, hiking through a rainforest in Cairns, Australia.

ESSENTIAL EXPERIENCE 10

Posted by Julie Benson

Vice President of Public Relations

From December 14, 2010

Discovering the Hidden City of the Incas - Machu Picchu, Peru - The sheer beauty of these terraced ruins took my breath away. Ringed by a crown of pointed mountain peaks and lush jungle, it was even more stunning than the photos I’d seen.

Behind me is the extraordinary vista of Machu Picchu – the “lost city of the Incas,” hidden from the western world for over 400 years.

When I first laid eyes on the ancient citadel of Machu Picchu, I could only imagine what it must have been like for explorer Hiram Bingham on July 24, 1911. While trekking through a dense Peruvian jungle, he stumbled upon one of the greatest archeological finds of the 20th century.
There before his eyes – and now before mine – was the most extraordinary sight. He had discovered what he believed to be the “lost city of the Incas,” which had been hidden from the Western world for the past 400 years. Over the centuries, the surrounding jungle had grown over much of the mountaintop site, and few outsiders knew of its existence.
By Bingham’s side was a young Peruvian boy who served as his guide to this hidden treasure. By my side was my husband — we had decided to visit Machu Picchu to celebrate our anniversary.
The last stronghold of the mighty Incas, the largest civilization in pre-Columbian America, Machu Picchu was named one of the new Seven Wonders of the World in 2007 for good reason. Some call it one of the most beautiful places on earth.
Traveling to Machu Picchu was an adventure in itself. Our first stop was Cuzco, Peru, the historic capitol of the Inca Empire and itself a UNESCO World Heritage site with its Baroque churches and palaces built over the ruins of an Inca city.
Cuzco is the gateway to Machu Picchu (which means “Old Peak) and sits 11,600 feet above sea level, high in the Peruvian Andes, and nearly half of all visitors are said to be affected by altitude sickness. We were therefore fortunate to stay at the beautiful Hotel Monasterio, a former Spanish colonial monastery built on a 400-year-old Incan foundation, where oxygen is piped into the guest rooms 24 hours a day to help prevent the ill effects of altitude sickness. The ultimate amenity!

The train from Cuzco took us to the town of Aguas Calientes at the foot of Machu Picchu, where I spent a little time shopping for local souvenirs.

The oxygen must have worked, because neither of us was affected by the altitude and we were excited for our day-long tour of Machu Picchu. We traveled there by PeruRail’s Hiram Bingham train (heartier souls actually take four days to hike there on the famous 28-mile Inca trail), and we were quite content to ride the rails. After a steep climb out of Cuzco, we descended into the Sacred Valley, marveling at the vistas of fields and villages in the foothills of the Andes. The end of the line was the town of Aguas Calientes at the foot of the Machu Picchu mountain. It was there that I purchased one of the most important souvenirs of my trip. While strolling around the quaint town looking at local crafts, I found some beads.
These weren’t just any beads, but beads made from the green serpentine stone found nowhere else in the world but Machu Picchu. The mountain’s veins run rich with this mineral, said to carry powerful spiritual qualities – bringing the wearer calmness and serenity, and a deep connection with nature. I thought this necklace was the perfect item to accompany me as I explored this astonishing place.

The green serpentine beads I bought in Aguas Calientes are made from minerals only found at Machu Picchu and are said to carry powerful spiritual qualities.

When I first took in the vista of Machu Picchu, it was startling. The sheer beauty of these terraced ruins took my breath away. Ringed by a crown of pointed mountain peaks and lush jungle, it was even more stunning than the photos I’d seen. There were hundreds of stone structures built in the early 1400s — palaces, temples, baths, storehouses, dwellings and plazas connected by narrow lanes.
The Incas had turned the site into a small but extraordinary city. It was invisible from below and completely self-contained, surrounded by agricultural terraces and watered by natural springs. Tracing the history and purpose of Machu Picchu is difficult because the Incas relied heavily on their people to carry important information. Since they had no written language, history was passed down by oral historians from one generation to the next. Through much study, it’s now believed that Machu Picchu was built as an estate for an Inca emperor, and that the site was no doubt selected because of its position relative to sacred landscape features such as its mountains, which are purported to be in alignment with key astronomical events that were important to the Incas.

My husband, Bruce, and I traveled to Machu Picchu to celebrate our anniversary.

I found it hard to believe that this remarkable place had been “hidden” from the Western world for four centuries. There were no accounts of Machu Picchu in any of the chronicles about the Spanish invasion and occupation. There was nothing to document that it even existed at all. Fortunately, the conquering Spanish never found Machu Picchu, even though they suspected its existence. The site was therefore never plundered and destroyed, and so survived as a rare window onto the Inca civilization.
We were there on a sunny November day, and we were surprised that only a few other people were around – we felt as though the place was ours. We wandered among the structures, which are all made of carved, massive granite stone, precisely fitted together in interlocking patterns — using no mortar – in order to withstand the disastrous effects of earthquakes. The Inca had learned that when an earthquake occurred, the stones would lock together, allowing the entire wall to simultaneously flex, rather than crumble.

Many of Machu Picchu’s hand carved stones weigh upwards of 50 tons.

The Incas were brilliant architects and engineers, not only with their amazing feats of mortar-less stone buildings. They constructed paved roads through the mountains from Ecuador to Chile with tunnels and bridges, they built aqueducts to their cities, and they created terraced farmlands in the steep mountainsides. As I stood among the ruins, I could picture the ancient city once again alive and bustling – the perfect blending of man and nature high in the Andes.
No one knows why or when the Incas left Machu Picchu. But as the 100th anniversary of the rediscovery of this site approaches, it’s reason to celebrate that this lost city was found, and today stands as a magnificent jewel of the mighty Inca civilization.
When I wear my Machu Picchu serpentine beads today, I’m transported back to this place of beauty and wonder. And it just might be my imagination, but I’m sure I feel their powers of calmness and serenity.

The Incas were famous for creating terraced farmlands in the steep Peruvian mountainsides.

The Inca were brilliant engineers and architects, carving and fitting interlocking stones together, without mortar, to help the structure flex during an earthquake, rather than crumble.

The conquering Spanish never found Machu Picchu and therefore it survived as a rare window onto the Incan civilization.

Machu Picchu is made up of hundreds of stone structures including palaces, temples, baths, storehouses and dwellings.

See cruises that visit this destination

ESSENTIAL EXPERIENCE 9

Posted by Millie Rivero

Systems Architect, Information Technology

From December 7, 2010

Unexpectedly Awestruck on the Golden Circle - Reykjavik, Iceland - One thing I’ve learned throughout my years of travel is to expect the unexpected. And on this trip, the unexpected surprise was Iceland.

Reykjavik's beautiful countryside.

I was destined to work for a cruise company.  My whole life I’ve been fascinated with ships, maritime history and geography.  I remember as a child looking at a world map and daydreaming of sailing on a Viking ship to exotic destinations like Iceland and Greenland.  There I was, on the bow of my wooden ship looking out for icebergs; on my face the cold winds of the North Atlantic, and under my feet the rolling and pitching of my vessel confronting the waves.
My dreams came true a few years ago (minus the Viking part) when I had the opportunity to sail from Southampton, England to New York City.  But instead of exploring the north Atlantic seas in the wooden longship of a Viking, I traveled in style aboard Sea Princess.
One thing I’ve learned throughout my years of travel is to expect the unexpected.  And on this trip, the unexpected surprise was Iceland.
I’ve traveled all over the world, and most places delight me, but in a way I expect.  In Iceland, I’m not sure exactly what I expected – probably ice.  What I discovered was a strikingly modern and culturally rich “Island” (the actual Icelandic spelling of the country, which is close to the ancient Norse language spoken by the Vikings) in a stunningly beautiful country.
When our cruise ship anchored in Reykjavik’s harbor, the world’s northernmost capital city, the weather was misty and cloudy, but the temperature was mild and the winds calm.  Several family members had joined me on my voyage, including my best friend.  She and I jumped at the chance to tour Iceland’s interior, and we decided to take a route known as the Golden Circle, a 200-mile loop that passes through the island’s most interesting geological and cultural features.

Tundra with tiny flowers in a rainbow of colors.

Our drive took us through a landscape of rolling hills dotted with hundreds of lakes, and the tundra took our breath away.  A type of vegetation I’d never seen before carpeted the landscape — tiny flowers in a rainbow of colors covered shrubs and small trees. And everywhere we looked, herds of Icelandic horses with their characteristic short legs and long, thick manes and tails roamed the countryside.  This is the only breed of horse found in Iceland and, in fact, their history dates back to ninth century Viking settlers.
One of the first stops on our route was Thingvellir National Park, one of Iceland’s most important historical places and a UNESCO World Heritage site. It’s also the only spot in the world where the Mid-Atlantic Ridge rises out of the ocean. This ridge is a huge 207-mile-long underwater mountain range at the boundary between the North American and Eurasian tectonic plates, a place where the earth’s crust is spreading and sinking. The constant grinding of these plates caused volcanoes and earthquakes that, over thousands of years, have shaped the Icelandic landscape. We took a walk across a short section of the fault line that is easily accessible on foot. As we were traveling among the huge rock formations towering over our heads, all I could think was “Oh God, please, no earthquakes right now.”

Walking between the plates of the Mid-Atlantic Ridge.

But really, even for this California girl from earthquake country, the thrill of straddling the ridge – actually putting one foot on one tectonic plate and the other foot on another plate  was something to remember.
Continuing along the Golden Circle, our stops included some impressive natural wonders, including Kerio, a deep volcanic crater formed in a huge explosion 3000 years ago, and the impressive Gullfoss falls, a gigantic double waterfall that cascades down into an abysmal gorge.  But the highlight was a visit to an active geothermal area, home to a famed spouting hot spring known as Geysir, the original source of the English word geyser.  Great Geysir is no longer very active, however, a neighboring geyser, Stokkur, which in Icelandic means “The Churn,” shoots up a column of hot water and steam every five to 10 minutes. I amused myself watching dozens of visitors pose in front of the geyser, smiles frozen on their faces, while their companions kept their fingers ready on their camera’s shutter, just waiting for Strokkur to come alive. I, of course, had to do the same.  And about one thousand pictures later, I finally got a good one.

Stokkur geyser, which in Icelandic means "The Churn."

Our return to Reykjavik brought everything I’d seen full circle as we learned how the city is powered exclusively by geothermal energy.  After visiting these amazing natural resources – geysers and waterfalls among them – the environmentalist in me was delighted to see these same forces in use for a clean power source.   I was impressed by how this country was taking care of its natural bounty and it, in turn, was leading Iceland into the 21^st century.
As our ship departed this country that had surprised me so much, I returned to my earlier daydream that had inspired this visit.  But instead of an ocean journey to Iceland, I now focused on the land itself and its astonishing beauty.  It just goes to show that no matter how far and wide you travel, the unexpected will always find you.

Keiro, a deep volcanic crater formed in a huge explosion 3000 years ago.

Gullfoss Falls.

ESSENTIAL EXPERIENCE 8

Posted by Deanna Austin

SVP of Yield Management, Planning and Customer Service

November 30, 2010

A Castle to Call Home - We couldn't believe that the experience we'd been dreaming about and planning for more than two years was actually happening.

Tulloch Castle located in the Scottish Highlands of Dingwall.

Up in the Scottish Highlands – way up, north of whatever landmarks you probably know in Great Britain – an ancient castle rises up from the vast lawns and surrounding greenery. Built of stone as grey as a winter sky, Tulloch Castle dates back nearly to the age of the Vikings, around the latter half of the 12th century. In many ways, it’s the kind of castle where you’d expect a princess would live, great in size and with a turret defining its highest point.
We didn’t know about our family’s connection to Tulloch until one of my husband’s paternal relatives began tracing the family lineage. He was a distant relative — my father-in-law’s cousin — but he worked as the chief librarian at Harvard University. Through him we learned that my husband was a direct descendent of the Davidson clan, which had possession of the castle from 1762 to when the last laird of the clan died in 1917.
My husband’s father had never been to Europe when we started talking about a family voyage to what we began to think of as our castle.  Not only had he not been, he was fairly certain he would never have the chance to go, to see the castle, or to trace for himself the origins of his ancestors.  He was the kind of man who loved his family and poured all his resources into raising his kids and so didn’t have much left over for international travel.  For my husband, this was a no brainer. We would all go to Scotland, and it would be our treat.
Before we knew it, three generations of our own family, from my three children to my parents-in-law, were boarding a ship on a British Isles cruise and heading to the Highlands. All told, we were eight, including my husband’s sister who also happens to be our favorite babysitter.

Deanna, far right, and her family inside the castle.

When the cruise ship docked at Inverness, we boarded a van, and the excitement was palpable.  We couldn’t believe that the experience we’d been dreaming about and planning for more than two years was actually happening.  We set off on the half-hour ride to the town of Dingwall.  In Norse, the name Dingwall means “meeting place,” which I thought had a warm ring to it, despite our having no appointments to meet anyone in particular. Instead, we would visit Tulloch, our ancestral castle, and walk the same grounds our ancestors had walked centuries before.
Pulling up at the castle, we were immediately struck by the sheer size of it. We had thought after seeing pictures of the place that it might feel a bit more like a large house. We also had heard that it had been converted into a high end hotel and weren’t sure whether that would detract from the historical feel of the place.  But if size were any indicator, this was certainly a castle.
Walking the grounds I noted that the front did feel a bit more house-like, and perhaps a bit more modern. Circling around the back, however, the towers were higher and a series of centuries-old crumbling stone walls marked the perimeter of the property.  In fact, this feeling of blended eras was pervasive.  A wall smoothed over with modern plaster, would give way to a pathway that was clearly from a previous era, which would connect to a room that was more ancient still, with walls of exposed stone and leaded glass windows.

A stained glass window bearing the Davidson family motto meaning "wisely if sincerely."

We were fortunate to have had the assistance of the ship’s shore excursion manager, who had called ahead to the castle and informed them that descendents of the Davidson clan would be touring their facilities, so our own curious bunch received a warm welcome, making us feel like we were part of the family.
The reception area with its stucco walls and modern comforts seemed a little out of place and possibly disappointing after viewing the old rough stone of the exterior, however with our connection to the Davidsons opening doors for us, we got to see more.  The concierge escorted our group to a wing at the back of the castle which was like walking into the 16th century.  The stone walls were adorned with antique tapestries and the windows fitted with stained glass.  On one of the windows a crest bearing the Davidson clan motto glinted proudly.  Sapienter si sincere.  “Wisely if sincerely.”  How funny, I mused, that all these generations later, the description still fit my husband to a T.
As my husband signed the guest book, I took note of my father-in-law who, from the corner of my eye,  moved slowly around the room, pausing at intervals to stand close to artifact after artifact, drinking in the details.  He studied the paintings.  He read all the descriptions, nodding to himself as he came across certain facts.  He tapped my daughter’s shoulder to point out articles of interest.  Whatever of the items on display he was allowed to touch, he touched as if he were somehow tapping into its ancient energy.
Moving on from this small museum, my kids, who were 8, 11 and 13 at the time, thoroughly enjoyed the next stop on our tour of the castle: the dungeon.  And once we returned to the grounds outside, I found the views of the Scottish countryside breathtaking, all wide lawns and rolling hills.  This enchanted castle, I thought, had something for each of us.

Another view of Tulloch castle.

And little did I know that my daughter was keeping a secret.  Unbeknownst to us, during our castle visit she had picked up a small rock, about the size of a walnut, and had secretly slipped this memento into her pocket.  It wasn’t until some days later during the cruise that she surprised her grandpa – and our entire family – by presenting it to him as a special keepsake.  That rock has been in the same place of honor on their kitchen shelf, ever since – a symbol not only of our connection to Tulloch Castle and the generations that came before us, but also the special connection among those of our family who journeyed to Scotland together.

ESSENTIAL EXPERIENCE 7

Posted by Angus Wilkinson

First Purser Administration, Dawn Princess

November 16, 2010
Majesty and Music in a Lost City - To comprehend the scale was difficult until something came into view and then I could realize the monumental magnificence of this mountainous desert.

Angus taking a ride on his "ship of the desert."

Being at sea for 10 months a year makes it a bit difficult to pursue any hobbies, but I’ve been lucky enough to indulge in one special pursuit.  I collect destinations.
I’ve always had wanderlust.  It started as a child when I developed a keen interest in Egyptology, and my mother says she always knew I would be the first to leave home.  Now after many years at sea traveling the world, I still experience the excitement of discovery whenever I visit a new place.   This year, as I was sailing aboard Pacific Princess for her world cruise, I was able to check one of my dream destinations off my travel bucket list — and live out some Lawrence of Arabia fantasies – by traveling to the ancient “lost” city of Petra when the ship called at the seaport of Aqaba in Jordan.
With excitement building to see one of the most majestic and intriguing archeological sites in the Middle East, my companions and I set off with a local guide and driver for the two-hour journey which took us along the vast expanse of one of the world’s most amazing desert landscapes — the Wadi Rum or “Valley of the Moon.” Most of the Kingdom of Jordan is desert – sometimes flat, sometimes undulating, but as we drove we could see rose-colored granite monoliths and surreal formations rising from the desert floor. To comprehend the scale was difficult until something came into view and then I could realize the monumental magnificence of this mountainous desert.  This is where British Army officer T.E. Lawrence joined the Arab Revolt against the Ottoman Turks around the time of the World War I, and where much of the film Lawrence of Arabia was shot.
We stopped to take a break and to get up close to some of the local camels.  These “ships of the desert” were both fascinating and also comical.  And I had a laugh when I realized that their tall spindly legs were somewhat reminiscent of my very own!

A magnificent peek at Al Khazneh, Petra's towering Treasury.

Once we arrived at Petra it was time to get into the spirit of the place.  We bought head garbs, partly because it was swelteringly hot, but also to look the part.  Now my desert attire included a long, white linen shirt, trousers and my just-purchased traditional keffiyeh, a white and red checked head covering.  I fit right in.
Petra was built by the industrious Nabataean people who were known for their sophisticated culture, remarkable architecture, and ingenious water system.  For years after it was settled more than 2,000 years ago, Petra served as an important junction for the silk, spice and other trade routes that linked the Asian and Mediterranean civilizations.  With its temples, tombs and alters carved into the dusky-pink-colored rocks, it’s little wonder Petra was voted one of the new Seven New Wonders of the World, or why UNESCO deemed it a World Heritage site in 1985 and described it as “one of the most precious cultural properties of man’s cultural heritage.”

Angus in his new keffiyeh, white and red checked head covering.

But in the third and fifth centuries Petra was severely damaged by earthquakes and abandoned.  The “lost” site was known only to local Bedoins and remained hidden for centuries from the outside world.  It wasn’t until 1812 when a Swiss explorer revealed Petra to the Western world after he disguised himself as a Muslim holy man and tricked his Bedouin guide into taking him there.
Our driver dropped us some distance uphill from the Siq, the main entrance to the ancient city, a two-thirds-mile-long gorge that leads to the Treasury, the first and most amazing of many sites of Petra.  I resolved to walk down on foot and return on one of the many horse-and-buggy rigs that make the journey.  But before I set out it occurred to me that I should select some appropriate music to enhance the experience.  So on my music player I selected Handel’s famous coronation anthem “Zadok the Priest” (yes, that’s on my playlist).
We were very fortunate to have a great guide who made sure we didn’t miss the many intriguing points of interest along the way — carved reliefs on shrines, the whale head and the narrow irrigation channels running along the sides. Just as we started through the last part of the Siq, I pressed ‘play’ for an unforgettable goose bump moment.  Handel’s music rose to a sudden rousing “forte tutti” entrance with trumpets at the precise time Petra’s towering treasury called Al Khazneh came into full view.  It was an experience imprinted in my memory forever.    

Angus having his "Lawrence of Arabia" moment.

Later when I ventured to the Urn tomb with nobody else around an elderly wizened Bedouin man beckoned to me. I was slightly reticent as I thought maybe I was in for a hard souvenir sell, but when he beckoned again I went over and leaned slightly closer.  In a hoarse voice he whispered, “you, Mr. Lawrence, you Mr. Lawrence.”  Pardon, I asked?  Again he said, “you Mr. Lawrence.  He was tall with triangular face.”  Me, I thought, Lawrence of Arabia?  There I was standing by myself, on this site that dates back to 600 B.C. and a man I’ve never met was comparing me to the west’s most renowned historic figure of the region.  This encounter fueled my sense that I had walked out of the real world straight into a cinematic fantasy.

Trotting off in a horse and buggy.

I had resolved to return by a horse and buggy that was so evocative of Victorian travel.  My companions had set out to walk, as they didn’t want to wait for a ride, but I was sure I’d have no problem flagging a rig, as a flurry of buggies had passed by only five minutes earlier.  Yet, suddenly there were none.  I waited and waited, but not one additional buggy came by.  So I, too, set off walking.  At last, only footsteps into my journey a lone buggy appeared.   After bargaining with the driver, who would take no less than $50US for the ride, I was headed back to the site entrance.  I decided it was a small price to pay for the perfect ending to this magnificent day, so off we trot, with the buggy bouncing over ruts and rough terrain, and me ricocheting from side to side.

Angus riding his camel in the ancient city.

I was hardly the first to feel the wonder of Petra.  As we rode back, these verses from the famed sonnet penned by John William Burgon in 1845 came to mind:
It seems no work of Man’s creative hand,
by labor wrought as wavering fancy planned;
But from the rock as by magic grown,
eternal, silent, beautiful, alone!
Not virgin-white like that old Doric shrine,
where erst Athena held her rites divine;
Not saintly-grey, like many a minster fane,
that crowns the hill and consecrates the plain;
But rose-red as if the blush of dawn,
that first beheld them were not yet withdrawn;
The hues of youth upon a brow of woe,
which Man deemed old two thousand years ago,
match me such marvel save in Eastern clime,
a rose-red city half as old as time.

Angus with the "Valley of the Moon" in the background.

ESSENTIAL EXPERIENCE 6

Posted by Tim Donovan

Cruise Director, Emerald Princess

From November 9, 2010

Bobsleddding Down the Unlikeliest Mountain - Ocho Rios, Jamaica - Maybe our berth number, 007, had put me in the mood for an adventure worthy of James Bond.

Bobsleds all lined up and ready to go.

As Emerald Princess pulled into berth 007 in Ocho Rios, the ocean breezes gave way to waves of heat.  By 8 a.m. the temperature was a searing 90 degrees and the humidity made it feel even stickier.  So, it’s hot, sunny and I’m going … bobsledding??
Maybe our berth number, 007, had put me in the mood for an adventure worthy of James Bond.  And here in Jamaica, I had my pick — famous Dunn’s River Falls, a terraced waterfall that you can climb like steps; or the three-mile-long Martha Brae where I could lazily float down this picturesque river on a bamboo raft. But most intriguing to me was Mystic Mountain, a lush tropical paradise with its own hidden secrets, the most unusual of which was its bobsledding track.
By mid-morning, I found myself at the foot of the rain forest wondering how we would get up the mountain. The journey, it turned out, was effortless, with a chairlift as our chariot. Perched comfortably on the Sky Explorer lift, we rose up over the canopy of the forest to the summit, our legs dangling over tropical foliage, the air growing cooler as we ascended.
Some 20 minutes later a member of the Jamaican tour staff met us at the peak. “Yeah Mon, welcome to Mystic Mountain where every’ ting is cool.”
At the top of a chairlift, one might expect a snow-capped mountain, yet the reggae beats I was hearing from a local band, accompanied by the island dialect, which was itself a kind of music, and the local arts and crafts on display – all said tropical paradise.  That plus the temperature which, even at the top of the mountain, was more suited to flip-flops than ear muffs.

Chair lifts carry anxious bobsledders atop the mountain.

Making our way to the bobsled area, we were met by the tour operator who gave us instructions on how to work the sled.  Push the levers forward to release the brake. Going too fast?  Just pull the levers towards you, and the brakes engage. So simple, even I could do it!
I lowered myself into a slick-looking bobsled, jet black with the Jamaican flag stripes down the side, and positioned my hand on the brake levers to my left and right.  Could I really do this? Would I crash spectacularly like the Jamaican bobsledding team did so famously at the 1988 Olympics?
With no snow in Jamaica, our sled ran quite securely on a wooden track with metal rails.  The steering I would have done on a cold course would be handled by the track.  It was for me to determine how fast I wanted to go.  Since the sleds go out at timed intervals, the chances of a collision are extremely slim.  Still, as I sat anticipating the downhill run, adrenalin pumped through my body.  The operator closed the canopy over my head and pushed me into position.  I was next!
In a single motion he released the brake and I was off!  It was a slow start as I used the handbrakes to keep my speed in check as I came to the first turn, but I let the sled gain momentum as I hit the decline.  The exhilaration on the ride down made me laugh out loud – at least during the moments when I wasn’t outright screaming.  Three minutes of pure speed. The quickest tour of a rainforest you could ever experience.

An adventurous participant accelerates down the mountain.

Reaching the bottom, I couldn’t help but feel the letdown.  I was disappointed for it to be over, but I was thrilled to find another leg of the journey remained. The sled, in fact, returned to the top of the mountain hooked onto a device that resembled a roller coaster, and riders were able to stay on board for the uphill trip.
I rode along the tracks to the hook-up point, and then enjoyed eight more minutes of fun, climbing effortlessly up the mountain, through the rainforest. This was my chance to actually catch all the scenery I had missed on my way down.  Ah, paradise!
Though I would’ve loved to take another run down the mountain in my mean machine, I was happy to settle for the Sky Explorer, which carried me gracefully back down the hill.  I may not be James Bond, but I’d had an adventure to make an international spy envious – and with that final relaxing descent I could return to our ship ready for my next mission.