Mexican Riviera -- A Word About Travel

     

     There’s a reason I have a blog for travel, even if I don’t update it very often.  I love being able to see a place I haven’t seen before, having new experiences, and sharing those experiences with others.  And, as always, any trip I take just makes me eager for the next one. 

     The cruise was a nice combo of hotel, transport, and adventure and I highly recommend it.  As does the cruise line.  Princess really wants that money.  Both during the trip and with emails afterwards, they have bombarded me with brochures and discounts for future travel.  They had an offer where if you put down a $100 deposit, they’d give you shipboard credits and a grace period of two years to decide on your next cruise.  I thought about it but didn’t commit.  I want to see what other cruise lines have to offer. 

     There is a growing issue that does make the idea of more travel a bit tiresome.  The planes.  I flew out on Delta this trip.  I’ve flown them before with few issues, but this trip deserved some mention.  I’ve noticed that the last few flights I’ve taken have been more stressful than usual.  The boarding process at the airports seemed more chaotic than it used to be.  The airlines don’t feed you anything more than chips and drinks unless you pay.  And then there is the legroom.

     I have very long legs. Being compressed into an area smaller than the driver’s seat of a car for several hours is not fun.  The flight out of Atlanta to San Francisco is only about 5 hours and even that was intolerable.  I always chose the window seat when I fly.  That used to mean having a nice view while only having to share a single armrest.  Now, it feels more like being trapped in a corner, desperately trying not to kick the seat in front of me or elbow the person in the middle seat.  All this while trying to sleep, eat, or, you know, move to keep myself from cramping up. Yes, the planes are equipped with Wi-Fi, power jacks, and several recent movies to watch on your individual screens, but none of that makes the experience any less unpleasant. 

     A guy sitting behind me on the way back to Atlanta expressed my same sentiments.  He was an avid traveler for work, but once the airlines went from 35 inches of seat space to 28, travel became much more of a hassle.  The only alternative was to pay for first class or stop traveling.  He was seriously considering the latter.

     One other issue I had with this most recent trip.  While standing in line for security at SFO, I saw a sign saying that travelers whose driver’s licenses had a star in the corner (and yes that includes Georgia) will no longer be able to use them for flights as they won’t be considered a ‘real ID’ anymore.  Starting in August (I think), the only ID that will be excepted are passports.  Even for domestic flights.  That’s ridiculous.  While I encourage everyone to get a passport, people shouldn’t be forced to get one just to board a flight within the states.  I’m sure there’ll be a lot of people turned away from airports after this law goes into effect simply because they no longer have proper ID.

     I wanted to end this entry with these general feelings on travel not to discourage anyone (including myself) but as a reminder that no trip is perfect; everyone encounters issues.  The mishaps of this trip only serve as hints of what I need to change for next time.  Research is key; my packing was pretty spot-on thanks to YouTube videos on cruising (I recommend a travel clock as most ships don’t have them).  But losing my glasses has confirmed that I need to pack a spare whenever I travel (it is a miracle that this hasn’t happened before!).  And I’m already planning to get a pair of sunglasses as well.  Fewer group outings for me – too annoying.  And, as much as I hate to admit it, I might have to shell out the cash for plane upgrades for longer flights.  I don’t want to get to the point of choosing not to travel because I don’t want to deal the actual travelling part of the trip.  Vacation is worth the inconvenience and the hiccups.  Doesn’t mean you can’t minimize them whenever you can.

Mexican Riviera -- Manzanillo and Puerta Vallarta

12/23/19

     The agenda for this day was a shopping and beach trip in Manzanillo.  No water taxies this time; the ship pulled up right to the dock.  Our group still had to wait in the theater again until we got permission to leave the ship.  Sigh.

     After some shuffling, our group gathered on a bus only to travel a few feet away to arrive at another section of the pier.  Our guide brought us to the city square of the town and filled us in on some of the history of the place.  Nice to know but not exactly why I signed up for this excursion.  He spoke for about ten minutes then gave us about ½ an hour to wander the square on what would be the first shopping stop.

     The woman who sat next to me on the bus introduced herself as Sally.  Turns out she was also a solo black traveler.  She offered to take my picture if I asked.  I declined but kept her in mind.

Back on the bus, we traveled through the town, out in the middle of nowhere, all while the tour guide rambled on.  After climbing through steep, narrow, cobblestone streets, we ended up at a photo op overlooking the Las Hadas By Brisas hotel.  It’s a pretty white stone building right by the sea, most famous for being the location of the movie ‘10’ from the ’70’s.  We stopped for pics, then winded our way back down the hill.

     While the area was nice, and I never would have seen it without this tour, I was getting a little restless.  I wasn’t the only one.  This tour was for beach and shopping, not a long-winded history lesson or endless driving.  Once we got back on the road, a guy interrupted the guide and asked, “when are we getting to the beach?”  The tour guide assured us that we were on our way …

     To another over-crowded shopping complex.  This one was at least on the beach.  We had a bathroom break, did some more shopping (not me – no cash), and got back on the bus.  We traveled just down the road to a restaurant fronting the beach part of our tour.  The guide gave us vouchers for drinks and left us on the beach to fend for ourselves for an hour or so.

     I skipped the restaurant, put down my stuff and made a beeline for the water.  Finally!  I was in the cool water, happy that it was a few days until Christmas, and I was in the ocean.  Couldn’t ask for a better present …

     Until a powerful wave hit me and snatched the glasses off my face.

     Are you freaking kidding me?  I’ve been to Hawaii and Hilton Head multiple times, been in the ocean with my glasses on and never had an issue.  My one and only trip to Mexico, at Christmastime, and the glasses were gone, never to be seen again. 

     I stumbled back to the beach umbrella I shared with Sally and told her what happened.  Her response?  “Oh, they’ll turn up.”  What.  I lost my glasses in the ocean, not a library.  She was more concerned that the order she’d placed with the restaurant hadn’t arrived yet.  I’m practically blind and this woman is complaining about her food being late.  Lady, I got no sympathy for you.  Just lead me back to the boat and have a happy trip.

     That is indeed what happened.  By the time we got back to the ship, it was dark.  My main concern was to not break my ankle getting back on the boat.  I followed Sally back, discussing how much she loves to travel even if she can’t get anyone to come with her.  Her 21-year-old son decided he was too old to travel with her anymore, even if she was paying.  I told her he was an idiot.  Unless someone is taking you to the ninth circle of hell, if they are willing to pay for your travel, you go.  She agreed, saying she got tired of listening to other people’s excuses, so she just planned her trips on her own.  We had something in common there.  But, considering how much she complained about the restaurant and the tour on the bus, I wasn’t interested in making friends.  When she got stuck in customs because of her purchases, I reached the nearest stairway and squinted my way back to my room.

     THANK GOD I PACKED MY SPARE GLASSES.  I thought I was just overpacking and being paranoid when I put them in my suitcase.  But no.  The lenses are scratched, the prescription very old, and the frames are discolored, but after groping my way to my room, they were most beautiful things I’d ever seen!

     After getting some dinner, I ended the evening with this big, beautiful strawberry Margarita and a nice foot soak in a hot tub.  I’d chosen this tub because I’d stumbled on it the night before, completely deserted – my kind of situation.  That didn’t last for long, though, as a woman soon appeared with her daughter.  Normally, I would have high-tailed it, but I had to give the woman some credit.  As they approached the pool, she pointed me out to her kid, telling her not to disturb me as she entered the water.  This highlights one of the issues I have with most parents.  They usually don’t know or acknowledge that not everyone wants to deal with their children.  I have nothing but respect for a parent who realizes that, hey, other people do exist.  Thank you, ma’am.  And a Merry Christmas to you too!

     We were soon joined by the woman’s husband and another couple.  Everyone began to share stories of their day in Manzanillo and get acquainted.  The second man was from South Africa.  He lived in Cali with his American wife and they were telling us how their town was subject to the forced blackout recently.  I’d read about the wildfires all over the state and how the government would deliberately shut off the power for days at a time to try to prevent further fire damage from sparking power lines.  The couple told tales of rotted food and having to shower in cold water.  Have I mentioned that Cali is a nice place to visit but I would never want to live there?  Yeah.  Like the earthquakes weren’t bad enough.

     I told them my tales of wave swept glasses and sphincter-clenching canyons as the crowd of people in the tub grew.  Once there were at least ten people there, including two kids who were trying to swim in the tiny space, I knew it was time to call it a night.

     The third and final excursion I’d scheduled was on the next day, Christmas Eve; a walking tour of Puerta Vallarta.  I decided to skip it.  I’d lost my way in Cabo and lost my glasses in Manzanillo.  I figured if I left the boat a third time, I’d lose my head.  No thanks.  I watched Puerta Vallarta from the safety of the ship.  That night, I found my way to the same hot tub which was again deserted.  No drink this time but there was a fireworks display from the shore as we left port. That was a nice way to end our time in Mexico.  Despite the mishaps, I wouldn’t mind returning in the future

Mexican Riviera -- Los Cabos and Mazatlan

12/21/19

     It was sunny and beautiful by the time we got to our first stop of Los Cabos.  I was very grateful for the heat.  It was too cold for too long to be wandering around the boat while at sea.  I’d planned a UTV tour of a canyon for this stop so I got breakfast early and got ready to leave.

     I pre-paid for this excursion and was looking forward to the adventure.  But can I just say how much I hate group activities?  I hate being herded together, hate the waiting, and I’ve already mentioned that I hate having to adhere to schedules.  I was reminded of all these things as I was herded into the theater to wait for the other members of my group to get there.  After a dull wait, we played follow the leader onto one of the lifeboats that also served as a water taxi (that’s how I woke up that morning; with men outside my window getting that boat ready to launch). 

     After a 15-minute trip to the dock, we were herded by other people into an area for photos.  This picture was taken before I even knew what was going on.  When would I get the picture?  Did I have to pay for this?  How much do these people in heavy costumes make to stand around waiting to touch a bunch of strangers for a photo op?  I only realized later that the cruise line had multiple photo ops planned throughout the trip.  There were people stationed at every port and at the gatherings on board, like a visit from Santa and formal shots for Christmas.  The pictures would be posted outside of one of the bars for the passengers to pick up or ignore as they wished.

     But I didn’t know all that as we waited on the pier for the tour runners to appear.  Then we waited some more since we’d arrived a bit early for our scheduled tour.  Don’t get me wrong; what I’d seen of Los Cabos from the pier was very pretty, but it was still too much waiting.  Eventually, after signing waivers and showing ID, we were led through the mini-mall just off shore to a couple of waiting buses.

     The bus drove us far from the pier at what seemed like 90 miles an hour through the city of Los Cabos until we ran out of pavement.  Then it was up a windy, hilly, dusty road to the Wild Canyon facility.  After even more waiting, we were fitted for our gear and given brief instructions on how to work the dune buggies.  Taking pictures wasn’t allowed during the tour, even by passengers, for good reason.  The course was way too bumpy for holding a camera and if the thing flew out of your hand, it was as good as toast.  The place had their own photographers traveling on a separate car.

Each car seated only two people, but I was alone in lucky number seven as we again played follow the leader.  The UTV was loud and rocky even while idle.  When making turns or going over uneven terrain, it felt like the thing would shake itself apart.  Still, once I’d gotten the hang of it, it was a pretty cool experience.

     We stopped by a cliff overlooking the beach for a photo op and water break.  I scraped my leg scrambling down the rocks to the water, idly wondering if there was any nasty microbe in the rocks that might cause an infection.  We had a few minutes at the beach before climbing back into the UTVs.

     I was directly behind the leader by this point and followed him to another point where he stopped all the cars.  Then he got out of his car and waved one set of cars through before me.  Then it was my turn.  I noticed the photographer and others gathered at the top of a small incline.  As soon as I climbed it and looked down – let’s just say there was some foul language.  Spread before me was a wooden bridge suspended over a whole lot of nothing.  The cars were slowly going over it in single file to the other side of the canyon.  As I sat there staring at the route, it suddenly occurred to me that the tour guides had never shown us a map.  We had no idea beforehand where the course would take us.  I certainly didn’t sign up for this.  But, since there was no turning back, I took the plunge.  Very slowly.  Just don’t look down. 

     Once I made it to the other side in one piece, suddenly there was a problem.  I didn’t see any of the other cars.  I made a few turns trying to find someone but with no luck.  Then there was a guy coming up behind me screaming for my attention.  I stopped and he asked where I was going.  How was I supposed to know?  Never been here, remember?  He turned me around – then turned me around again.  See?  Even he didn’t know where to go from where I’d ended up.  Before I knew it, we were going back over that hellish bridge, much faster this time as it was just the two of us, and ended up back at base camp.  I still don’t know how that happened, but I was very glad to get out of that car.

     I swear, I don’t try to be the special one on these tours.  But that keeps happening to me.  Just another reason I hate group activities.   

     The buses weren’t ready to leave just yet (more waiting) so we were left to wander the facility.  In addition to the UTV tours, there were ziplining adventures across the canyon (uh, no.  The car was scary enough), a turtle farm and a hiking trail.  The place also had a bar and a gift shop.

     Please note that you could purchase the pictures that were taken throughout the excursion.  I ordered a package for $35 and was told that I’d receive an email with a link to the files in a couple of days.  It is now two weeks since I bought the package and despite my emails to the company, I have yet to receive a link.  If I ever get the pictures, I’ll add them to the blog at a later date.

     Busing back to the pier, we passed by the Hard Rock Café.  I’m a big fan of their merch; I’d just purchased a t-shirt and bag in S.F.  I wanted to tell the bus to just let me out, but I knew they wouldn’t.  Unfortunately, the café was way too far from the pier to walk and I was wary of being mugged by taxi drivers.  Maybe next time.

     Instead, I did some shopping along the pier.  Can’t say I’m a fan of the Mexican shopping stalls.  There were multiple vendors in a big warehouse, all crammed together and hawking all kinds of stuff.  There were the usual t-shirts and bags, but also bottles of vanilla, knives, jewelry, just so much stuff.  I found one booth full of these gorgeously painted wooden bowls and a very eager man showing them off.  Only problem was, I’d already run through my cash, the few stalls that accepted credit cards only take Visa, and I’d left my Visa on the ship.  That Visa was my check card so there was no way for me to get any more money.  I left the guy’s stall and the shopping complex, saying I’d be back (I wouldn’t).  The vendor followed me down the street to tell me where to get some cash.  Sorry, dude.  I don’t even remember my password for my Mastercard and there was no way I was taxiing to the ship just to get my Visa and come back.  I still liked those bowls though.

 

12/20/19   

     I had heard some bad things about violence in Mazatlán, so I decided to stay on the boat and have a massage.  A unique and relaxing experience.  I was so loose, I even let the Asian lady who gave the massage convince me to book another service on Christmas day.  It was me, Michelle, and Mazatlán during that day and later a killer coq au vin for dinner.  This was, by far, my favorite day of the trip.

Mexican Riviera -- The Ship

    

    I sailed on the Grand Princess of the Princess Cruise Line.  I don’t know if it’s officially classified as a mid-range ship but that’s what I’m calling it.  It didn’t have the stuff you’d seen on one of the mega-huge ships.  There was no climbing wall or wave pool or anything like that.  What it did have was multiple pools and hot tubs, shops, a few restaurants, several clubs, a spa, a wedding chapel, a gym, a casino, and a huge theater that could seat half the people on the boat.  More than enough to keep my interest.  And then there are the bars …

     Before I started my research on cruises, I really had no idea how many people hop a ship just to get hammered and not have to drive home.  Everywhere you turned, they were offering you booze; duty-free bottles for sale in the shops while at sea, drink menus on the tables on Christmas day, a champagne waterfall in the piazza (sorry I missed that one).  There was a drink of the day listed in the Princess Patter, the newspaper with the rundown of ship activities delivered to the room every day.  I had my first drink on embarkation day from a waitress who just happened to have an extra drink of the day on her tray.  One of the many packages offered for purchase before the cruise was for alcohol.  Most of the research I’d done said it wasn’t worth the price unless you were a serious boozehound and since I rarely drink, I took a pass.  I did have about 5 drinks total while I was on board, other than that it was water and coffee the whole time.

     There was a steakhouse and an Italian restaurant that were reservation-only and filled up quickly for Christmas day.  There were also three formal dining rooms.  I wanted to hit one of those on the 25^th but the line was too long.  So I went to the standard buffet on deck 14 where I ate most of my meals.  They had a huge selection of pretty good food available most of the day.  There were occasional theme nights based on different nationalities like Mexican or Asian.  Breakfast was always the highlight for me as they served a variation of French Toast every day (crispy and delicious).  And, of course, the fries.  French fries are my favorite food.  The buffet served them every day.  They were also served at the burger joint near the back of the ship, so I did my fair share of indulging.  So many fries … 

     I didn’t expect the crew to be so international, particularly on a ship sailing from America to Mexico.  The first woman I spoke to worked in the spa and was from Poland.  The woman doing the Muster Drill (the mandatory safety demonstration) was South African.  The captain and the activities director were British.  There were multiple Asian and Hispanic folk on board, making the crew a real cross section of nationalities. 

     As for the passengers, it was a good mix of people.  The ship had about 3,000 people; not all elders, not all kids, many of them were my age or younger.  I heard a lot of Chinese in the lobbies and elevators but judging by the quilted jackets and vests, I guessed they were from SF Chinatown.  (Seriously, nearly everyone in the city wore some version of a quilted jacket.  They were everywhere.)

     Another thing I didn’t expect was how hard this cruise line still holds onto the whole Love Boat angle.  For any of you who don’t remember the show, this was the exact cruise route they always took, sailing from SF to ports in Mexico.  I think that boat’s name was the Ocean Princess, but the route is the same.  The original cast from the show were actors in the safety video and there was a plaque near the piazza that commemorated the cast getting a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.

     I’d been warned about the tiny rooms on cruises, but I was pleasantly surprised.  The room was a decent size with a view of the water just past the lifeboat.  There was a mini fridge under the ‘bar’ area and a decent sized TV.  No live television at sea, but plenty of movies, some documentaries and, yes, episodes of the Love Boat.   Only the bathroom was the size of a dime.  That took some getting used to; bathing was always an acrobatic act of trying not to bump my elbows on the tile or brain myself with the shower head when the boat lurched.

     I have to admit, I missed out on a lot of the activities.  I’m not a fan of schedules when I travel as my daily life is already regimented enough.  While there was always something interesting happening on the ship – bingo, trivia contests, art auctions, live entertainment, demonstrations, movies – I mostly just wandered from event to event, catching what I could.  I’d drift through the casino into the piazza to see mariachi players, then slide through a club where there was a lesson in line-dancing on stage, then head up to my favorite spot on the Lido deck and watch the kids splash around in the pool.  I willed myself to stay up late one night to catch a movie by the stars (Spiderman: Far from Home – saw it already in Hilton Head but wanted to see it again on the big screen) and saw a portion of a musical in the theater on the last night at sea but that was a about it for me. 

     The only problems I had were minor.  The toilet was an issue.  It’s a vacuum based system making it very loud and only occasionally reliable.  I’d have to babysit it sometimes before leaving the room which was annoying.  The first night was rough because the entire room creaked with every movement of the ocean.  It didn’t help that I was exhausted, still adjusting to the time change (Cali is three hours behind Atlanta, and we’d lose another two hours on the way to Mexico), and the room never did get warm enough no matter how much I played with the thermostat.  I ended up congested with a runny nose for the last few days of the trip.

     Overall, I loved the whole cruise experience.  Food was always available with no dishes to wash, the housekeeping staff were excellent, and the other passengers were very nice.  I’ve always enjoyed being on the water and appreciated the freedom offered on board.  Though events were scheduled every day, nothing was mandatory.  You were free to pick and chose what you wanted to do even if that was just sitting on the deck with a book and some tunes (my favorite).  I didn’t get seasick, despite some choppy weather at the end of the trip. Even though there were a few hiccups, I’d definitely do it again.  Except next time I’m getting a balcony.

Mexican Rivera 12/16/19 - 12/18/19

     As it’s been way too long since my last big trip, I decided to do something unusual for Christmas this year.  Initially, I thought to travel to Los Cabos since there’s nothing better than a trip to sun and surf in the middle of winter.  After a chat with one of my co-workers (thanks Chere!), I decided to take the full plunge and make this trip a series of firsts.  If I was going to go to Mexico for the first time, why not make this an opportunity to take my first cruise as well.  The embarkation point is from San Francisco, a city I’ve also never visited?  Sure, why not!

     I’ve wanted to take a cruise since I was a teenager, but it just never happened.  There was always that dreaded single supplement to consider.  For those of you not in the know, cruise tickets are based on double occupancy meaning that any initial price would require an additional payment for anyone traveling solo.  I’m already cheap.  The last thing I wanted to do was pay for another person who wasn’t there.   It felt like I was being punished for being alone.  I’m just trying to take a trip while not getting guilt-tripped in the process.

     Fortunately, the Princess cruise I spotted did not have this pesky extra.  It was about $2,000 for a 10-day cruise that would stop in Los Cabos, Mazatlán, Manzanillo, and Puerta Vallarta before returning to San Francisco.  I took two weeks off from 12/16/19 to 12/28/19, giving myself a couple of days in San Francisco, and made ready to set sail.

San Francisco 

     My first and only California trip was way back in 2002 when I visited San Jose and L.A so I was really looking forward to seeing more of the state.  Just finding my way to the BART station in the airport was tricky enough.  After wandering around SFO confused for several minutes, I finally got to the old trains that serve as public transport in the BAY area.  I'd been warned about seeing weirdos on the train but managed to reach my destination without incident.  The trains were spacious but had definitely seen better days.

     I reached my stop which I was told was in walking distance of my hotel.  All I know is there were a lot of people, buildings, cars, dogs, food carts, you name it.  It was enough to get me completely confused as I lugged my huge suitcase around.  After finding the fancy Marriott, the nice doorman directed me to the one I could actually afford.  If I could find it.  I ended up on the right street but passed by the hotel.  I had to turn around to see the front entrance – which is not the way you get into the building.  I didn’t realize before booking that the hotel is under renovation.  The front entrance is closed so you have to go around to the side which is covered in scaffolding and temporary walls.  You can’t even see the sign indicating the entrance unless you’re passing right by it so, of course, I had entered this street on the opposite side of the building.  Great.

     By this point I was exhausted and had seen way more of the city than I’d intended right after my flight.  But at least I'd found my way to the lobby -- which looked like Beirut.  There was dust everywhere, plastic covering everything and, if you hit it at the wrong time, the very loud noises of construction.  The room was actually very nice.  Beautifully decorated with a view of the busy street below.  I loved the long red couch and the big bathroom.

     I set out the next day for sightseeing.  There was a bunch of stuff I wanted to do in the city; walk through the Sequoias, visit the Ghiardelli factory, see the seals at Pier 39.  But given that I only had the one full day, I quickly realized that was too much to expect.  I did some walking around, a little shopping, stumbled onto Chinatown.  I’d intended to go through the scenic gate but got turned around and had arrived too early for anything to be open thanks to the time difference.

    San Francisco is a very walkable city.  There were always people everywhere and different pop-up produce shops and booths, food trucks and performers.  I wasn’t sure how much of this was for the holiday season and how much was just normal S.F. but it was all interesting to see.  Except for the homeless.  I knew before coming here that California as a state had a massive homeless population and a serious problem with drugs.  It’s one thing to read about it or see a video on YouTube.  It was something else entirely to see the tents set up by the train tracks, to have a man in a wheelchair claiming to be a veteran asking for change, to have to skirt past a man standing and twitching by the entrance to Target.  It was very humbling.  And highly depressing. 

     I found my way to the Embarcadero, the street that runs parallel to the ocean.  I passed a bunch of shops, following the numbered piers from 1 all the way to the big tourist spot, Pier 39.  I loved the festive air of the place with the big Christmas tree and the live music.  I had some yummy clam chowder in a sourdough bowl (in a café with pigeons flying in through the open door), did some shopping, and saw the famous seals. 

     Going past this pier, I traveled to the end of the Embarcadero onto Fisherman’s Wharf.  There were more shops and restaurants here as well as the turnaround for the trolley cars.  I really wanted to jump one and hang on to the edge as it traveled but not in that weather.  It wasn’t too bad while walking but I knew it would be too cold in a moving vehicle.  And these vehicles didn’t move while I was there.  I didn’t want to wait for them to get going so I kept walking.

     I tried in vain to find the chocolate factory, but by this point I was exhausted.  I made the long trek back to the hotel.  There was way too much of the city left to explore so I will have to go back at some point.

     Embarkation day, 12/18/19 started off wet and gloomy.  My legs were still shot from the day before, so I knew there was no way I was dragging all my baggage to the pier in the rain.  My hotel was a bit a hoof from Pier 1.  The boat left from Pier 27.  Cab ride it is!

     I already knew how nuts it was to walk in the city.  Being in a car took it to a whole new level.  There were so many one-way streets, bus-only lanes, and pedestrians everywhere I knew there’d be no way I’d ever try to drive here. 

     Pier 27 was a big, warehouse-like building.  After handing off Big Red to a porter, I wound my way around the building, up an escalator, and into a long line of people.  They checked my passport and handed me a bunch of paperwork including my cruise card.  The card, I'd find out later, would be used as currency all over the ship, in the shops and for any alcohol.  It also served as a room key so they advised you to never let it out of your sight.