The day’s plan was simple, elegant, a good day. None of it went right.
I was awake too early, got up, checked out of the hotel. I stopped for coffee on the way to the pier, found a good mix of options.
At the pier there was nowhere to drop my bag. That left me tugging a suitcase around for four hours. I took it with me to the museum I wanted to visit, asked the staff there whether they had anywhere I could drop it off. They did, inside, but they couldn’t let me in. The museum opened at 9am but the ticket office didn’t open until 10am and I didn’t have a ticket. I trudged back to the pier, at least there I could sit down to wait.
A lady disembarking seemed to have too many hats.
(The next day I found out why: Clearance sale on board, nice sunhats for a fiver.)
Someone there was accepting bags, so I could finally drop it off. Rather than pay to rush around the museum, too little time after 10am to see it properly, I headed back into town. More coffee.
I found police cars, then realised the building they were parked by was a courthouse. Around a corner more police cars, this time the city jail. A walkway led from that to the courtroom, architectural optimisation for an overburdened system.
A policeman was ticketing a car illegally parked, a Rolls Royce painted (or maybe even plated) gold. I asked him a question, he didn’t hear it properly and started to get aggressive, wanting to know what I’d asked. I repeated my question and made him laugh, “Are you allowed to give tickets for bad taste?”
Just after 11am I was in a brewery, ordering coffee. They could put on the football, Man City vs Liverpool, the 8pm kick-off translating to noon here. An hour later I was sampling their beers, watching the match.
I ended up going for the Wreck Alley, half a pint, state law preventing them selling it by the pint. It was very tasty, too sweet to be a proper stout but a nice strong dark beer nonetheless.
I left the brewery with three minutes still to play, missed no goals. I did want to stay and watch but 2pm was the latest I could safely check in to the cruise, a full hour after the boarding pass told me to, and I had a half mile walk to reach the pier. Boarding at that time proved quick and painless, but also a different process to the previous two cruises. No consistency, partly a national border control thing, partly the cruise terminals. It would be harsh to put that on the cruise line.
What I will put on the cruise line is the horrible noise in my cabin. It’s all just ‘white noise’, but it’s all over, slightly worse if I put my head on the mattress, a transmitted hum competing with the whine from above. I switched on the noise meter on my phone, it told me ambient was 51dB, at least 20 higher than it should be. At home with the windows open it’s in the 20s.
I still had that open when the emergency drill started. The ‘Abandon Ship’ signal is only 89dB, lower than I’d have expected. I’ve been at dance classes where the teacher is louder than that, at the back of the hall. The DJ did turn her down when I suggested to him that 105dB was perhaps a little too loud for comfort.
The drill went smoothly, the usual chance to see who would be sharing a small boat with you. A lady in a wheelchair, the usual cluster of old people, a sarcastic woman and a 7 foot tall man, my eyes below his shoulder level. His wife was as much shorter again than me, must have a permanently sore neck.
The cruise director supported the captain in running the drill. The captain sounded solid and professional, the cruise director sounded gay. He may not be but it wouldn’t surprise me; it seems being camp is a minimum requirement for the role, homosexuality perhaps optional.
The other issue with the cabin is the lack of a fridge. Apparently I can hire one for $2/day, which feels excessive to store my chocolate. I’ll just have to plan ahead when I want to eat it, acquire ice from the lido, use that to assure a good consistency.
At 7pm I headed to find some dinner, my door card telling me I had open dining on deck 4. I went to deck four, found a sign telling me to go up the stairs to deck five. I reached the dining room and the waiter by the door told me to go down to deck four. A woman that told me to smile is exceedingly lucky I chose to just walk away.
On deck four there was a queue, a dozen people sat with pagers waiting to be seated. I found another lift, went to the lido.
The Volendam is smaller than the previous two ships and the Lido suffers as a result. Less choice, less seating. I had bread then beef, forgot to photograph it.
Back in my cabin, exhausted and anticipating missing an hour’s sleep, the ship’s clocks going forward. We need to gain three hours or so before the end of the voyage. I’d hoped the ship getting under way would help with the noise levels but it hasn’t, still stupidly loud.
There were already going to be words with Guest Services in the morning, this was merely another thing to discuss.
Post-dinner, I learned about the Pareto principle. Interesting.
I also put some thought into why I’m so bothered by the noise in the cabin. I probably will sleep through it, it’s just causing me distress. I think it’s because mentally I need some downtime, to escape and recuperate, and the noise is a barrier to that. It’s preventing me from entirely disconnecting from the world at large, and that hurts my ability to recharge.
That could be an introvert thing rather than an Aspergers one, but the reaction to it is almost all Aspergers. I think the answer is to avoid cruises if you have that. Not the ideal time to reach that conclusion, day one of a two week cruise, another 11 day one starting later in the month.
Oh well. I’ll just have to make sure I go and do social things with Americans and use the full range of British humour against them. Cruel but fun. I did that at the elephant seals, some bloke stepped backwards into my shot so that his girlfriend could take a photograph of him. “Thanks mate,” I said brightly.
He looked embarrassed, stepped out of the way and only then realised he’d encountered real-world sarcasm. Good job I made it blatant. He sulked at me, “You could have just said ‘excuse me’ instead of thanks.”
Well, I could, but that wouldn’t have conveyed my deep disdain for him via ostensible politeness. Someone British would’ve spotted it immediately, found it funny, apologised with a swear word and a laugh, but this was in California.
I did my laundry, yesterday’s and today’s clothing enough to fill the bag. Back out of the bathroom the humming sound seemed louder but the noise meter suggested it’s dropped, just 49dB now. I guessed it’s the contrast, but also the noise meter doesn’t capture the directionality of it, two distinct sounds from different directions demanding my attention. The one beneath is almost certainly the ship’s engines, inadequate sound insulation or perhaps an open duct. The higher pitched sound above was probably the air conditioning, but not the vent into my room, the larger workings in behind.
I’d almost backgrounded the noises before doing laundry. I wasn’t sure why they were back in focus, whether it’s the physical exertion involved (all that kneading adds up) or the break in concentration from my previous activity (reading non-fiction). Then the balance shifted, the lower tones from below dominating and the whining from above reducing in intensity. That would explain it, variable volume, probably based around workload.
Tonight’s hotel is the MS Volendam, a small cruise ship with no laundry and excessive perpetual noise. It’s 10pm, I walked over 10km today and I feared trying to sleep because of the incessant noise that ironically sounds like a laundry, a tumble dryer running permanently two yards away. I switched off the lights and tried anyway.