Corsica

Well, now that I've helped everyone gain ten pounds from all the food on Seabourn, let me tellyou that we left port on schedule and were introduced to a most affable captain. Apparently the Captain had been a farmer in his native land with no family history of seafarers. For a number of years he lived in Roswell, New Mexico (yes, that is in the United States) and then obtained his master's license and went to sea. And with a name like Captain Geir-Arne Thue-Nilsen, I could see him sailing the Bounty or a Nordic ship exploring the North Sea.

Seabourn is owned by Cunard which also owns the Queen Mary II as well as Seabourn and a number of other ships. In fact, many of the crew train on the QE2 before they get assignments on Seabourn yachts.

Our first port of call was Calvi, Corsica, and as with many of the islands, we found a medieval building facing us as we entered port. In this part of the world where Romans, Etruscans, Carthaginians, Spanish, and a host of other early world people resided, the remnants of their buildings can often be seen perfectly preserved and available for visitation. Many are medieval fortresses that are still standing.

I think the highlight of our trip to Corsica was not so much the scenery as the entire region is gorgeous. Azure, cobalt and turquoise waters make a spectacular place to see and visit. But we stopped at a little tourist place where they sold olive oil and other products and outside, we were greeted by George, the small, black-haired donkey, who works three months of the year churning the olives into oil.

Now an interesting thing about olives is that each island seems to deal differently in the matter of harvest. In Corsica, for example, they place nets under the trees and when the wind blows the olives into the nets, they are harvested and squeezed into oil. If they do not get many olives in the nets, they say that it is a "bad harvest."

Elba, on the other hand, and most other nations or islands, will place the nets under the tree and then shake the tree until all the olives are down. What makes them different? Well, those who refuse to shake the tree are content to let nature take its own course and they show great respect for the tree by not rousing it. In other words, they don't want the tree to get angry and stop producing.

In other islands they tie ropes to the branches and shake. Still others climb into the tree and shake. But in Corsica they wait for the wind to blow them down and when the wind stops, that is the end of the harvest. What is left on the trees, stays on the trees.

After petting George, who took everything in stride except the fact that none of the tourists had any treats for him, we went into the store. It was a bare bones type of place, home-made by some farmer who then transformed it into a gift shop. Most goods were also hand-made as well.

They had bowls of bread laid out (small chunks of crusty bread about 1" by 1" wide) and bottles of olive oil. You poured a little into a paper plate, dipped your bread and sampled the oil. They also had salt and pepper. The olive oil was for sale, of course, but I could just see the security people in JFK airport rioting over our attempt to bring in some strange Islamic liquid that was destined to blow up a federal building or some airport.

We did buy some very nice souvenirs and considering this was a tourist place, the prices were not all that bad. I will say that having the European Union (EU) is a blessing to the travelers. Euros are accepted just about everywhere including Tunesia and make it very easy to transact business. Most shops have things marked in Euros and all you have to remember is that they use a comma instead of a period. Example: a price may be marked 3,700 which mean $37.00.

Most shop owners in the larger areas do speak some English. In rural areas you will have to fend for yourself, but even a little high school language will suffice. The Corsican people are a handsome people, the women slender and gentle appearing and the men rugged and well conditioned. Like most of the isolated islands, they do not fawn over tourists but accept them in passing. They don't stare either, but they do meet your eyes with a wondrous simplicity that seems to accept the tourist with a casual nonchalance.

One thing I should say about Corsica is that it is the birthplace of Napoleon Bonaparte. They don't teach much history in schools these days -- teaching them to be gays and atheists, I imagine -- but that is where he was born and from very humble beginnings; he became a formidable dictator who twice had to be defeated.

He was exiled to Elba in 1815 and, within one year, he had raised another army and was back conquering territories. He made his brother Emperor of Portugal but when the brother wrote and asked him for funds with which to better the Portuguese people, Nappie gently reminded his brother that Napoleon was Emperor and his brother should do as he was told.

I hate getting into history but it is hard to visit Europe without visiting history as well. It's just there. So as I write about our cruise, I will also add a little history and hope you find it as enjoyable as Virginia and I did.

*************************************************************************************

Well, it's that time again. Keep me afloat by getting animal lovers to purchase Tears and Tales and experience an emotional impact they will never forget.

On Board the Seabourn Legend

Our luggage was moved into our room for us and we had a chance to settle down. The captain announced that at 5 P.M. there would be a lifeboat drill in which everyone had to go to an appointed station on deck # 7, wearing their life vest and awaiting further instructions on what to do if the ship was sinking. Since one of the sister ships of the Legend, namely the Spirit, had been attacked by pirates off the coast of Somalia, passengers tended to take the drill more seriously.

Anyway the siren was sounded. Everyone walked up to the deck to their appointed place. Everyone except Virginia and me because we went up an hour early, took the elevator (which you are not supposed to taked during the actual drill), wore our vests while having champagne at the Midnight Lounge Bar. At 4:55 P.M. we strolled down to station # 3, snugged up our vests and watched everyone else huffing and puffing up the stairs. There is an advantage to having done a cruise before. We knew the routine.

It is impossible to go hungry on Seabourn and since everythign is included in the price, except the tours, one has a number of dining selections. If you eat in the main dining room, a waiter takes your lady by the arm and escorts her to a table. The husband, of course, follows along like an idiot because no one is walking him by the arm. Being straight, that is perfectly acceptable to me.

Now, let me go over the dining accommodations before I forget. Breakfast between 7 A.M. and 10 A.M.; lunch at 11:30 A.M. to 2 P.M. Tea between four and five (finger sandwiches, two hot trays of goods, cookies, pastries, seven or eight different kinds of teas or stronger). The main dining room opens at 7:30 P.M. The veranda with both indoor and outdoor dining opens at 7 and is not formal. Room service until 11 P.M.

We are ninety per cent of our meals at the Veranda for several reasons: (1) We did not have to dress formally; (2) We knew and liked just about all the waiters and waitresses up there; (3) They served spectacular meals, having a regular menu one night and a tasting another where you go three of everything imaginable; (4) We had the place practically to ourselves; (5) We had a truly great bunch of guys -- Gael, and Anthony from France, Carmen from Rumania, Gunnar from Germany, Kevin from South Africa and they went out of their way to get you anything you wanted.

The humor alone of hearing Gael tell us in his French accent that they promoted Keven to Assistant Manager of the Veranda because he was mentally deficient and couldn't keep orders straight was worth the price of admission alone. I mean this man was a man you took home with you for a constant stream of laughter.

Now, if you want to celebrate an anniversary in a manner which is unforgettable, let me tell you how it's done once you get familiar with Keving, the Veranda manager.

You do not eat at the Veranda that night. No, because you have already answered Kevin's question as to what your favorite food is. Lobster, we said in unison, not knowing what to expect. The next night we received a call from Kevin and were told to go to the main dining room at 7:30. So we dressed in our finest and went.

Virginia was greeted: "And how are you tonight, Mrs. Vassallo? And you, Mr. Vassallo?" The maitre d' reached out and took her arm in his and escorted us to a quiet, side table for two, with candlelight. And we were then served our appetizers, a lobster dinner, our choice of red or white wine, and a fully chocolate cake with Happy Anniversary on it. I can but recall only a few of our anniversaries but our nineteenth will stand our forever. We had first class attention all the way through and a fellow passenger actually came over to photograph the two of us so we'd have a memory of the event. Not only did he kindly do that and email us the photo, but he also bought four volumes of Tears and Tales. Texans are not only tall, they are friendly too.