Tag Archives: Tiger Cruise

The Hana Chronicles: Month 8, Day 10

0
Posted by on in children, collaborating, Community, Family, Historical, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Striving, Travel

August 31, 2026- Hana knows that her Papa is hurting a bit right now. My best friend in Prescott is dealing with a life-threatening disease. The person who did the work of ten people is now sidelined. It is a gut punch for me. I can only imagine what it must be like for her children and grandchildren.

My granddaughter has been trying to make me feel better, even as she has no knowledge of suffering, let alone the likelihood of death. I want to keep it that way, for as long as possible. So, we went on our stroller walk, this morning and I did a solo jaunt this evening, after dinner. Hana talked to me during our morning walk, looking happily at the trees and rocks around Russell Creek, and the solid bridge that pases over it.

That brings me to the other shockers- The flash floods that ravaged opposite parts of the world. Nepal and Tibet have been devastated by glacial breakage that led to multiple villages, on both sides of the border, being wiped off the face of the Earth. Thousands have been killed. There is likely more to come. At the bottom of the Grand Canyon, every bridge that crossed Bright Angel Creek was swept away by a torrent. 2 are dead and 15 people remain missing, Two tragedies, one almost unfathomable and one painfully symbolic.

HANA’S NOTE- I don’t know what dying means,but Papa looked sad when he talked with Daddy about his friend. I don’t want Papa to be sad.

YEAR IN REMEMBRANCE-2014 I wasn’t completely ready to travel overseas, but I went anyway. I promised my ailing father-in-law that I would travel to Normandy, for the 70th anniversary of D-Day and I did. He passed away, three weeks before that, and I did a boomerang journey to attend his funeral in New Jersey, return to Prescott for two weeks then go back to Newark, to catch a plane to Frankfurt-by way of Montreal and Ottawa. Four days in Paris preceded the D-Day events. I took in the Louvre, Versailles and Trocadero. I fended off some Roma “goldsmiths” and twice as many trinket vendors, most of them recent arrivals from French-speaking parts of Africa. A visit to Rouen brought me to the ruins of a church, where my ancestors had been baptized-right next to the spot where Joan of Arc had been burned at the stake. I spent some time in the dungeon where she had been held. Then came D-Day observances, of which I took in the daytime events and passed on a late night recreation of the landing.

Rennes, Mont St.Michel, Amiens, Lille, Bruges, Ghent, Brussels, Bastogne, Luxembourg and Frankfurt followed. Lastly, came Berga, where my father-in-law had been held as a prisoner-of-war, for the last six months of World War Ii. He was a Jew, and yet made it out alive, with American troops coming into the camp, right after the German troops had left. The area around the camp had a harrowing ambiance, still. Berga town, and nearby Jera, had the air of cities in recovery, having been part of the former East Germany, until 1989.

In October, I flew to Honolulu and met Aram and his ship, then took my place on what was billed a “Tiger Cruise”. Family members of crew joined the return to San Diego. I spent most of the time with Aram at his station and enjoyed the peacefulness of the open ocean. Whales and dolphins appeared alongside the ship, a few times.

I still had a way to go, in reaching stability, but I held my own on these long journeys. I also sold the house in Prescott, on behalf of my mother-in-law, sent her the proceeds, and moved into a one-bedroom apartment. The year ahead would be even more restorative.

The Road to Diamond, Day 324, Part II: Across the English Channel

6
Posted by on in collaborating, Community, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

October17, 2025, Portsmouth, England- The instructions given me by the young man who worked maintenance for the city of Dieppe only revealed to me how often he has been on the far north side of his adopted city. I got in another good walk, thanks to the clarification I received from the middle-aged couple who had emerged from a cafe along my initial route.

I found the port city, about an hour northwest of Rouen to be struggling somewhat, trying to decide where to modernize and where to preserve. It can be an attractive city, especially if services between the Train Station and the Ferry Terminal, some 2 kilometers to the west, are better advertised. Right now, the shuttle is only promoted by a phone application. The question persists- What if phone service hits a dead zone? I have run into that situation with buses in one or two cities along the way, as well, though not in France.

Long story short, I did reach the ferry terminal, after a 30-minute walk. It is an austere, but still comfortable place, lying almost under the white chalk cliffs that are mirrors of the well-known cliffs of Dover. The charming purser was the first person to mention the shuttle to the train station-for those arriving from Newhaven, Nonetheless, if there were her counterpart at the train station, it would save a lot of difficulty for some of those in not so good shape.

Here are some views of Dieppe, from the train station to those white cliffs.

Old Customs House, Dieppe
Main fishing pier, Dieppe
White cliffs-of Dieppe (above and below)

Once on board the vessel, I went into a cabin-a new experience. Being able to catch up on writing, whilst on board a ship was an experience I’ve had on only one other occasion: The Tiger Cruise from Honolulu to San Diego, in 2014. I also slept for an hour or so. When curious about our progress towards England, I could monitor on this laptop. I did miss interaction with others, but managed to be among the crowd for the last 20 minutes of the voyage.

At the small port of Newhaven, it didn’t take much time to process into the United Kingdom, as customs and immigration are streamlined and train passengers are processed first, so as to not get stranded in the small town, with few lodging options. I was on the train to Brighton, then to Portsmouth, in short order.

Portsmouth on a Friday night is a revelation. The Guildhall District, where both the train station and IBIS Hotel are located, is also the home of University of Portsmouth. The club scene is especially lively tonight, but no one bothers the lone traveler walking with backpack and wheeled suitcase. They are all just having a great time and music fills the air. I’m happy to see it all.