When someone you adore is turning 50 and says she wants to celebrate on a 3-day cruise to Ensenada, Mexico, what do you do? I mean, let’s say you’re not a cruise person. Let’s say you’re a stay-at-home in your hidey-hole person. Let’s say your gut is begging you to politely say no thank you. If you’re me, you ignore all that and put your waterproof big girl pants on and pony up for that danged cruise.

 

And that, friends, is how I ended up losing an entire day of my life. That’s right. 24 sweet, sweet hours – gone. But I’m getting ahead of myself…

 

 

So Gwendolyn put it out there that she wanted to celebrate her 50th at sea. My first response was to ask if I knew anyone going and could I room with them, as I assumed it was a chicks-only deal. She let me know that no, it wasn’t a ladies cruise and yes, Mister was welcome to come along. I asked him and he was game (if a bit reluctant), so we committed. Shortly after that we spoke to our fab gal-pal Tiffany and learned she hadn’t yet booked her own passage. Fearing she might miss the boat (literally), we invited her to room with us. She signed up and next thing we knew we were all driving to San Pedro to catch The Chug Love Boat.

 

 

Princess Cruises began in 1965 when this same route from Los Angeles to Ensenada was first sailed. In the scheme of things, I suppose it was a humble beginning. By the time “The Love Boat” was airing on the tellie, the cruise line was well-established. Their business has grown substantially, but they still maintain that original route and it’s a big seller. In fact, our trip sold out. That’s 2600 cruisers, y’all, and a whole lotta love.

 

Anyhoo, Mister, Tiffany and I boarded the Golden Princess last Friday afternoon. We checked into our stateroom and unpacked a bit. The first wrong thing we noticed was this: our cabin deck door wouldn’t lock. I suppose it wasn’t a big deal, but the divider between our cabin and our forward neighbor wasn’t secure either. So anyone could come and go into our stateroom as they pleased. Not cool. Our mini-fridge was broken, too, and a bit warm. We reported the 2 problems and were told maintenance would be on it – eventually – so we locked our valuables in the room safe and crossed our fingers that all our underwear would be there when we got back.

 

 

First up – there was the obligatory safety demo to go through. Then we moseyed back to our cabin. After a welcome-aboard-drink was brought to us by our room steward, Rohim, we headed off to find the birthday girl’s cabin and kick off our adventure. She, too, was rooming with a couple of friends. I’m not gonna lie here – they had obviously been celebrating a bit already (ahem). One chick, upon being introduced to me, said, “You dress like a Republican.” I looked at her and nodded. Oh yeah. This was going to be interesting.

 

 

Before long, San Pedro was being left behind as we headed out to sea. Some folks (most folks) hit the bar. Some did who knows what. My trio headed back to the room to ready for dinner. Then we met up with our group – which was steadily growing – and found the highest point on the ship. I knew some of the attendees and it was good to see those folks. I didn’t know everyone, true, and some of them would remain strangers. That’s the way the cookie crumbles. And that’s okay.

 

 

By dinnertime, we met in the main dining room and were there for quite a while.

 

 

By the time we headed over to the club for some late-night dancing, I knew I didn’t have it in me. I told Mister and Tiffany to hit the floor while I hit a bar stool. I didn’t feel bad. I just didn’t feel like dancing, which is odd because I love to dance. As I watched Mister and Tiffany enjoying the heck out of themselves, the woman seated next to me slurred in my ear, “You gozza helf me ow. I gos da all-you-can-drin pass but they won serf me anymo. You gozza buy me a drin.” I thought a few things about this woman. 1. Use your words. 2. It’s good to see there is an actual limit to how much a passenger will be served, even with an all-you-can-drink pass. And 3. She scared the hell out of me. She was way too close for comfort and I didn’t particularly care to smell her. So I did the right thing – I lied. “Oh! I don’t have a drink pass. I don’t drink! I’m sorry, I can’t help you!” She went on a bit more, but as I wasn’t giving in, she gave up and left. I never heard a “Man Overboard” alert, so she must’ve made it.

 

 

At some point Mister and Tiff were done dancing and I was done watching. The 3 of us sneaked out of the club and called it a night. Rohim had readied our room for us and we all went to sleep. Until 1:58 in the ayem, when a “First Responders – Report to Deck 5, Aft” announcement woke the whole danged ship. In our drowsy state, we weren’t quite able to interpret that message. I went to the head and tried to process what we’d heard. I was reading through the emergency info and looking for some sort of explanation there. I didn’t find anything, but I did realize something: I was dizzy. And I felt a little off. But as it was 2 in the friggin’ morning, I made my way back to bed, thinking I’d be fine after a night of sleep.

 

 

When morning rolled around, we woke to find our toilet wasn’t working. We called Rohim so that he could add that to the list (broken patio door, hot mini-fridge –  remember?). Then we dressed for a day on deck. Saturday of this cruise is an “at sea” day, which means the ship is either sailing in circles or taking the longest possible route to Ensenada. (It ain’t that far, friends.) Either way, it wasn’t looking good for me. After reaching the dining area and taking a seat, I knew I wasn’t gonna make it. I told Mister and Tiffany that I needed to get back to bed and that I’d really prefer it if they didn’t follow me. I knew it would do me no good if I was being watched, and I probably would have felt guilty about them missing a gorgeous day at sea. They finally agreed to let me go and I stood to leave. I had to grab the table, y’all. I was that messed up. And then I had to make a run for the ladies room. I barely made it. In my head, I was living a “Seinfeld” episode. I was thinking I haven’t thrown up since 2011. Oh well. New start-point on that counter.

 

I slowly made my way back to the cabin and fell into bed. After a while, Rohim came in to tidy the room. He told me the plumber hadn’t yet repaired the toilet. I asked him to move that up the old priority list, as I was definitely going to need that. I then told him to tidy around me and that if he needed to come back, to just use his key. When lunchtime rolled around, I was no better. I thought I should eat something, as I’d had nothing since the night before. I ordered a room service burger and headed out to find a working toilet. The maps of the danged ship were useless, y’all. I went to the nearest marked toilets and found – nothing. So I looked for the next nearest toilets. At this point, I was shaking and crying. It was all I could do to stand upright. People passed me and looked away. I have no idea how I appeared, and I didn’t care. I just needed a damn toilet. When I finally found one, I could hardly believe it. Sick as a dog, I used the facilities and made my way back to our room. The food arrived shortly after and I tried eating. It wasn’t taking. Mister and Tiff stopped in and I couldn’t get up. Mister said he thought I was more than seasick. He’s the one who suggested I’d picked up an ugly-ass case of food poisoning. But what did it matter? All I could do was ride it out. Realizing I was still alive and that there was nothing they could do for me, they grabbed a few things and went back to their day. The second the door closed behind them, my head hit the pillow.

 

But I wasn’t able to sleep. I was so upset about knowing I’d soon have to leave the cabin in search of a working toilet, I began crying once more. I believed Rohim was trying, but I couldn’t wait. So I grabbed the phone and pushed the button for the Purser’s Office. Through tears, I told the gentleman on the line that I was ill and desperately needed a working toilet. I said I didn’t care about the broken door, but please, please, please send someone to repair the toilet. Within about 10 minutes of that call, maintenance showed up and repaired the deck door’s lock. A short while after that, a plumber repaired the toilet. I then fell asleep.

 

By dinnertime, I thought I was coming out of it. So I got up and changed clothes. I immediately realized I was wrong and couldn’t possibly leave the cabin, so I crawled back into bed. Wearing fresh clothes. Mister and Tiff arrived and readied themselves for dinner. After a while, they headed out to meet the group. It was “portrait night” and we had all been instructed to wear something blue. The 2 of them looked great. I was wearing something blue, too. And it was getting wrinkled as I tried to sleep and heal.

 

Rohim came by for the night’s turn-down service and he was so sweet. “Oh, madame! You are not better? I am so sorry!” I don’t know why, but his kindness meant something. He didn’t know me and I didn’t know him. And honestly – his sincerity may have been an act. But in that moment – it mattered. After he finished readying the room for the night, I ordered another round of simple room service, thinking I needed to give food a go. This time when the food arrived, I was able to keep it down. And I felt better. Dizzy, but better.

 

 

At the end of the night, Mister and Tiffany quietly entered the room. I let them know I was awake and they began sharing details of everything I’d missed. We laughed and Tiffany said, “Hey! You’re smiling. You must be feeling better.” I thought about it and realized she was right. I was better. The 2 of them readied for bed and we all went to sleep. Even though I’d been in bed all day, I slept through the night. And I was grateful.

 

 

In the morning we woke in Ensenada. The shipping containers at the Mexican pier sort of made it look just like San Pedro – without the palm trees. I was feeling a bit antsy, as I’d spent the previous 24 hours in our room and needed to get some fresher air. The 3 of us dressed, left the ship and walked into town. The plan was to meet at Papas & Beer for lunch.

 

 

After touristing about as much as we could, we wound our way to the restaurant. We were a bit early, but all of us were hungry so we ordered. Pretty soon we saw our group trickling in. Though tables had been set up for us inside, the group asked to be seated outside – where smoking was allowed. Mister, Tiffany and I finished lunch and headed out to join the party.

 

 

Here’s some of what I saw at Papas & Beer. A woman on her knees, with an employee standing behind her and pouring alcohol down her upturned mouth while groping her breasts. Everyone around her just laughed and laughed and took photos. People with slurred speech yelling “Shoss!” Those people did indeed receive their shots and they slammed them. Hard. Quite a few folks had acquired keychains sporting little dude figures with extra-large penises. The owners of these new toys were simulating various sex acts for anyone who cared to watch. Or photograph. People were letting loose. They were (I hope) having a good time. Some were obnoxious as hell, but most were just happily drunk. There was singing, dancing, laughing. It was basically good. The birthday girl was smiling and I like to think she was happy. I wanted to hang with the crowd. Overall, they’re not a bad bunch. But you know how it goes – one bad apple… In my weakened state I simply couldn’t tolerate the obnoxious. I tried to let Mister and Tiffany enjoy themselves. I didn’t want to be a drag. But the truth was – even on dry land, I was struggling. I was still dizzy. I could keep food down (hallelujah!) but I was off. Way off. And at some point I told Mister I needed to head back. He and Tiff accompanied me and we slowly walked toward the ship.

 

Along the way we passed a fish market…

 

 

And a churro stand…

 

 

And a mobile library…

 

 

It was a nice walk. Back onboard, we seemed to be the first ones from our group to make it. The 3 of us decided to hit the hot tub, so we changed and headed to the deck. The water was lukewarm and the jets weren’t coming on. I found a deck attendant and asked for assistance. He came over and when nothing seemed to work, he said, “Oh. This is warm enough. And the jets – that’s normal.” Wha? I said, “So broken is normal?” The guy wouldn’t budge. He wouldn’t admit the “tepid tub” was broken and he couldn’t seem to do anything about it either. We gave up on the hot tub and instead helped Tiff with her Iggy Pop photography project.

 

 

We then decided to sit on the deck, to enjoy the setting sun. But – I swear to God – we couldn’t find 3 non-broken chairs. I’m not kidding. It was ludicrous, I know. But there we were – on the most broken boat in the Pacific. Tiffany and I were laughing so much about the ridiculousness of the situation, we cried. When the sun started going down, we were laughed out and getting cold. So we headed inside to ready for the final night’s dinner.

 

Our gang wasn’t scheduled to dine until 8, but we were hungry right then and there. So we decided to have dinner early, then meet everyone for dessert. Speaking for myself, I sorely needed that food and I’m so grateful Mister and Tiffany were down for the early-bird scene. By the time we joined the party, it was apparent a few others were too pooped to pop, as our numbers had dwindled. We hung out for a while then said our goodbyes. As we would be waking in San Pedro, CA, our goodbyes were for reals. The 3 of us made our way to our cabin, one last time, then we all packed up a bit and readied for bed. I was exhausted from the day and slept peacefully.

 

 

On Monday morning, the 3 of us took our bags and got the hell off that broken-down barge as fast as we could disembarked. As we walked to our car, I was so grateful for solid ground, I nearly kissed the pavement. But I didn’t. We loaded our bags in the boot and headed home in morning traffic. We had survived.

 

 

I am not a cruise person. I agreed to go on this trip because I love my friend and wanted to celebrate her birthday with her. Food poisoning and sea sickness had another plan for me, however. So in the end, I barely saw her. If you look at the official portrait of our group, I am absent. I’m in so few pictures from this trip, one would be hard-pressed to prove I was present. That doesn’t bother my vanity or ego. I couldn’t care less about whether or not I’m in the photos. But I do lament not spending time with my dear, sweet friend. But you know what? She was so busy, so engaged with those around her – she didn’t miss me. She wasn’t supposed to. If I’d never boarded the ship, it wouldn’t have mattered. My missing her? That’s another story.

 

I won’t be getting on another boat any time soon. (It took me 3 days on land to get over the dizzy spells, for cry-eye.) When and if I do, I can pretty much promise you it won’t be a Princess Cruise. Yes, certain crew members were darling. But so what? So is the girl at the corner coffee shop here at home. And as far as I can tell, she’s never sold me tainted goods. Her shop doors work perfectly. And though I’ve never once used the loo there, I’m guessing it’s functioning just fine. No – no more Princess Cruises for me. That Princess has a tarnished crown.

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