The Celtic Thunder Cruise 2013 - Day 4

November 4^th, 2013
Ocho Rios (At Port)

Today has been amazing fun so far, although my mom hasn’t enjoyed it much today.

We went out to the buffet so I could get some hot chocolate, and then we came back to our room and watched TV. Then we went out and got breakfast... and then came back and watched TV again. We were basically just killing time until the ship landed in sunny Ocho Rios, in Jamaica.

I'm telling you, the hot chocolate on the Carnival Victory was AMAZING.

I was very excited, because I love Jamaican accents. *grins* I always have, since I was little—it was always the Jamaican, Irish, Scottish, and English accents that won my heart. Jamaican probably sounds rather strange grouped up with the United Kingdom accents, but it’s true.

But anyway, at around 10am, it was time to go. We waited for a while; we didn’t want to be crowded, so we decided to hold off until most of the other people had gotten off the ship.

Then we made our way out into Jamaica. It was humid, but not too hot; it had been hotter up on the ship’s deck. We had to show our key cards and IDs, and go through metal detectors, before we could leave. A person next to us said they do that to make sure we’re not smuggling contraband out of the ship. They do the same when we return to make sure we’re not smuggling it into the ship.

There was a woman outside taking pictures with each passenger; a Jamaican woman. She asked us to, but we said no—the photographer makes you buy the photos just to acquire them, so there was no point in that.

My family and I walked along the docks and up onto the shore. We planned to go and sit on the beach, but when we entered the town, there were a lot of shops. So we decided to look through them first.

(Added note: here are pictures of Jamaica that we took from on board the ship!)

Two birds; there were birds everywhere on the ship once we got closer to land - even one flying around one of the stateroom hallways!

Jamaica... and lots of random passengers who were with us on the ship. XD

Jamaica.

So prettyyyy...

It was so /green/! o.o

Another snapshot of Ocho Rios.

Ocho Rios.

The water and the sky.

More of the water and the sky. XD

Ocho Rios again.

The very first thing we saw that caught my interest was a table under an awning. A young Jamaican man was making bracelets. There were a plethora of pre-made ones on the table, and looking at them, I could not believe the guy’s talent. I found myself very much wanting one.

We left to keep looking at what there was to see. I talked it over with my mom; I wanted to buy two bracelets—one for myself, and one for someone else. That would cost twelve dollars. I was willing to pay her for it; she said she would think about it.

Then the one event that kept happening to make my mom very annoyed came around.

There are a lot of men standing around out on the streets. They drive cars and take you on tours. Well, every single time we would walk past any of them, they would immediately start walking alongside us and tell us about how wonderful and cheap their taxi services were.

And the one-sided haggling was ridiculous. When my mom said we weren’t interested, and that we were planning to walk, every taxi driver would immediately say, “Oh, alright, you look like a nice person, I’ll lower it to fifty per person. Fifty dollars per person.” Mom would say ‘no’, and he would say, “Okay, okay, just for you, I’ll lower it to forty-five per person. Forty-five dollars.”

I don’t know whether I should admit it, but I didn’t mind them ‘hounding us’, as Mom said. I was willing to just stand there and keep saying ‘no, thank you’ until they left me alone. That was the first thing about Jamaica that caught my eye—everyone was so friendly, even though they were also very insistent. I even told Mom when we got on the island, “If it wasn’t so hot here, I wouldn’t mind living here—everyone is so friendly!”

Anyway, that happened on and off throughout our trip. My mom gave up on being polite and would just ignore whoever stopped her and walk off.

Me? Well, I’ve always been taught never to ignore people, so I couldn’t get into the habit of it. If someone talked to me, my immediate response was to turn to them and say, “No, thank you, sir.”

According to my mom, that was me being gullible and inviting them to come talk to us. I was completely confused and asked how being polite was me being gullible. I don’ remember what her response was; she probably didn’t say anything.

Most of the shops were similar, in that they sold pretty much the same stuff—most of the shops sold hats, bags, shirts, knick-knacks, and liquor. :P There were many jewelry stores as well.

Another thing people kept doing: women kept walking up to me and insisting that I let them braid my hair. My mom has wanted to braid my hair Jamaican-style for a while, but doesn’t have the ability to. But the amount they were charging—$2 for one row, which, with my hair, would end up $50 for the whole thing—was ridiculous, and Mom told about three women ‘no’.

But finally, a woman came to us in one of the stores and said she would braid the entire front and top of my head for fifteen dollars. Mom reluctantly agreed, and I was led into the back to sit on a stool.

The woman was very rough with my hair. I have a very strong scalp—I can endure a lot. I tend to basically rip my brush through my hair when I brush it, because it’s always so tangled. It doesn’t bother me.

But she was rough, even for me. It hurt so bad at times, I was blinking back tears. Again, my mom tells me I have a very high pain tolerance in general (as far as physical pain goes), so if something hurts me... it hurts. :P

I kept quiet, though, and after about thirty minutes (she kept getting approached by her co-workers; she was apparently taking too long), it was finished. She led me over to a mirror so I could see.

I rather liked it; braids in my hair, with green beads. My brother spent the next twenty minutes telling me how horrible I looked, but I ignored him.

Oh, yes. Before this, I had run into my friend Sammi. She walked up to me and said something like, “Well, hello, Stranger!”

We chatted for a few minutes; she was on her way back to the ship, I think, because she has already been to Ocho Rios before. I wanted to talk longer, but she didn’t want her grandmother to have to wait for too long. So, with plans to talk later on the ship, she left.

We continued walking around, getting approached by Jamaicans begging us to buy their stuff or take their taxis. I still didn’t mind all that much, but my mom and brother have tempers that were beginning to heat up. :P

(Added note: here are pictures I took on Jamaica. XD)

A view of the ship from the Ocho Rios docks.

Pretty pink flowers on vines above the water.

... I honestly don't know who these people were, but they were dancing, and when I tried to get a video, they insisted I take a photograph with them. XD

The fancy clock that I was much too fascinated by. XD

Lovely yellow flowers.

Random fountains...

A random street musician. XD

Beautiful red flowers up in the trees. o.o

The souvenir store.

The street leading into the town square.

Palm tree. XD

Delicate red flowers.

A random purple plant. XD

More red flowers.

Orangey-pink flowers.

A lone red flower.

A skinny black feral cat. I wanted to take it home with me. :'(

Returning to our floating home...

Our floating home in all of its terrifyingly huge and swaying glory. XD

After one woman, who came and matched pace with me, chattering on about her flea market and her ID (and having a bit of a stand-off with my mom about how her ID meant she wasn’t a shady person, because she had to take police tests or something) before leaving, Mom commanded me to walk faster, and my brother told me to just ignore anyone who talked to me. I still couldn’t though.

(While that lady was telling me about her flea market, Mom outwardly went up to another woman and asked none too quietly, “How do you get them to stop harassing you?” I was absolutely embarrassed.)

Mom asked someone where we could find the beach. The man directed us down one road, and then left us be. But even though we searched, we couldn’t find it. By this time, Mom just gave up. Larry was complaining, she was fed-up with all the people ‘harassing’ her...

I kept my mouth shut; I figured it was best not to tell either of them that I wanted to stay and keep wandering around. We started the trek back to the entrance to the town, continuing to be approached by taxi drivers.

Finally, Mom spotted a few elderly women from our ship and walked up to them. She said something about harassment and asked if we could walk with them. The women amiably agreed, and we walked almost the rest of the way with them.

They had been to Ocho Rios before too, so Mom apparently decided to use that as her new excuse—when people approached her, she would say, “We’ve been here already!”

There was a sidewalk musician that I wanted to take a quick photo of, but when he saw me, he said I should take a picture with him. He took my arm, and I was about to tell Mom. She turned back and looked horrified—partly because he had my arm, and partly because I had yet again been ‘gullible’ and allowed someone to pull me aside.

She started to say, “No, we’ve been here already.” I said, “Mom?” She kept rambling, and I just started saying, “Mom, Mom, Mom, Mom, Mom...” until she went quiet and looked at me. I said, “It’s just a picture we want.”

Then she decided that was okay, and we got our photo taken with him. (Added note: two, actually. Here they be. Plus a few special photos of me with two policemen and a random animal guy that my mom wanted me to get. XD)

The street musician showing us how he wanted us to pose. I have a suspicion it was some sort of Rastafarian thing.

Me, the street musician, and my brother.

The animal guy showing me how to hold his bunny rabbit.

The animal guy, the donkey, me, and the bunny rabbit.

Me and the two policemen. XD

The elderly women stayed there so that they could catch their breath, so we moved on. We reached the stall where the bracelet-maker had been, and I asked Mom to let me get two bracelets; that I would pay her back.

She agreed, and I walked over to the man, telling him I would like two bracelets. He gave me a notepad and pen so that I could write the exact spellings of the names I wanted on the bracelets down.

Then he asked me what colors I wanted for the bracelets. I wanted the one for my friend to be blue, red, and yellow. He had to get new string for it (all he had out was red, green, yellow, and black), but was very nice about it. Then he asked what color I wanted; I went with the usual red, green, and yellow.

He had to make them right then and there, because he didn’t have pre-made bracelets with the names on it. I enjoyed watching him make the bracelets—I stood there the entire time.

This man was very calm and amiable—unlike most of the other people, he didn’t pull you aside and practically demand you buy something. He didn’t keep asking you. He didn’t talk a mile a minute. He was just very quiet, and waited for someone who was interested to approach him instead. I’d even venture to say that he was shy.

We were there for about a half-hour while he made the bracelets. Mom struck up conversation with him, and I sat there, enjoying hearing his accent. It reminded me of home.

Anyway, eventually he finished. We thanked him, and went to find Larry. He was on the other side of the awning, being chattered to by a man who apparently makes rings out of wire. Larry had rings on every finger of his right hand while the guy talked.

Mom walked up and said it was time to go. The ring man started chattering to her.

The bracelet maker came up with a red, green, yellow, and brown necklace and gave it to Larry. But this time, he wasn’t trying to be insistent—Mom had explained, when he asked her where Larry was, that he was bored and impatient. As a bit of a peace offering, I guess you could say, the bracelet maker gave him a free necklace (not a girly one) in an attempt to make up for taking so long on the bracelets.

While he did this, the ring man gave Mom a ring to give to me, saying something about a ‘free ring’ for his (Larry’s) sister—me.

Mom insisted to both of them that she didn’t have anymore money left, and couldn’t pay them. She said she didn’t want to waste their time if she couldn’t pay them, and to take their gifts back. The bracelet maker told her he was just trying to give Larry a necklace for being so nice about waiting.

I don’t know what the ring man’s excuse was. Eventually, though, we left with a free ring and necklace. I glanced back over my shoulder at the three men under the awning (the bracelet and ring guys, plus another guy) and waved, telling them all ‘thank you’. Then I ran to catch up with my family.

We boarded the ship again. After going back to our room, we went and had lunch. 

My yummylicious pastrami-on-rye sandwich and dill pickles. XD

Then we went back to our room. After a while, we decided that Mom and Larry would go walk around the deck, and I would go to Sammi’s room to see if she was there.

After I knocked, she answered the door. I walked into her room, and we chatted for a while.

It was so nice to meet a girl in person whom could go on silly rants with me about the Irish guys on the cruise, without being bored or teasing me. I’ve only run into two girls willing to rant with me—her, and my awesome lil sister Everly. *grins*

I was having so much fun chatting, I lost track of the time. She decided she had to take a shower, so I left. On my way up to the Lido Deck (the deck that’s on our floor of the ship), I ran into my mom and Larry.

I got an earful about giving my mom a heart attack (metaphorically). I had been gone for over thirty minutes, and she had been about to walk through every single corridor of rooms shouting my name.

After the lecture, I followed them out onto the deck. I sat with Mom up on a deck chair, asking her whether I could hang out with Sammi late tonight. We went back and forth; she didn’t want me to be alone, and I didn’t want to inconvenience her. In the end, we decided that I could go, but that I had to stay on the Lido Deck, and she would either sit on the deck or check on us every half-hour.

At about 3:30pm, she and I decided to go back to our room. We waved at Larry, but he wouldn’t move—we finally realized he was talking to a pretty blond girl. And he was smiling for probably the first time since we boarded the ship.

We motioned that we would be back in our room, and then left. I was giggling and grinning like crazy. Mom ordered me not to tease him, so I agreed.

But then, about a half-hour later, she went to go bring him back to the room to get ready for our next show. Lo and behold, she couldn’t find him. She came back in a panic, alternating between fear and extreme anger.

We couldn’t find him no matter where we searched, so she asked one of the waiters if there was a PA system she could call for Larry over. He directed her to Guest Services. On our way there, who should practically slam into us, but Larry.

I trailed behind as she began to quiet-yell (yelling in a way that keeps others from hearing you) at him. Eventually, she stopped, and we continued with our evening. We went to the comedian’s show. It was supposed to be family friendly, but... let’s just say it wasn’t, and we had to leave. :P

Shortly after, we went to watch Goitse, a traditional Irish band, play a sort of quiz game. One of the questions ended up inappropriate though, so Mom told us to leave. I knew the room would empty very quickly (because not many people were there to begin with), so I asked her if I could get the camera and ask Goitse for a photo. She said she would get it, but that I had to stay out in the hallway until the inappropriate question had been answered.

It was eventually. Mom and Larry hadn’t returned, but I timidly went back into the room. I walked to the corner where the band was and shyly tapped Conal O’Kane, the guitarist, on the shoulder.

He turned around and gave me this wonderfully friendly smile, inviting me to speak. I asked hesitantly if he and the rest of the band would mind taking a picture with me, when my mom returned with the camera. He said that was perfectly fine.

Conal told the rest of the band why I was standing there, and then introduced them. There was Colm Phelan, the bodhrán player and sort-of band leader. Then there was James Harvey, the youngest and the banjo and mandolin player. There was Áine McGeeney, the singer and fiddle-player. And last but certainly not least, Tadhg O’Meachair, the accordion player and pianist.

They were absolutely friendly, especially Tadhg. He chattered away to me, at some point telling me exactly how to pronounce and spell his name. I spoke up a moment later and and said I already knew how to pronounce and spell it (I did, too). Curiously, he asked how I pronounced it. I said, “Tadhg”. (It’s pronounced ‘tyg’, just like ‘tiger’ but without the ‘r’ sound, by the way.)

He said, “Right!” I said I knew that because it was the name of a character from one of my favorite Irish films.

Tadhg asked what film. All eyes were on me, but I didn’t feel scared or nervous—a bit shy, but not afraid. They were simply too friendly. I responded, “The Field.”

When I said that, Tadhg enthusiastically said that he loved that movie, as well as the play. I grinned, and he grinned back.

We talked for a while. I asked James how old he was, out of curiosity. (To the certain sisters of mine I know are reading this—yes, it was because he was very sweet and kind and gentlemanly, and he looked to be only a little older than me. Hey, it was completely innocent curiosity, I promise! *cheeky grin*)

He gave me a challenging smile and said, “Why don’t you guess?”

I tilted my head to one side and said what my initial guess had been. “Eighteen?”

He shook his head with a bigger smile and said, “Higher.”

I responded with a giggle, “Twenty?” Again, he shook his head and told me to try higher.

Shocked, I said hesitantly, “Twenty-one?” Again, I was wrong, and he shook his head and told me to go even higher.

Even more surprised now, I doubtfully asked if he was twenty-two. He grinned back and said, “Yep.”

We shared a laugh, and I found myself surprised. He really doesn’t look older than eighteen or twenty. Oh well. *grins at Everly* ;)

Colm had disappeared for a moment, and then returned. The workers had informed him that the doors to that area of the ship were being shut, and that we had to go. Colm then looked at me and said, “Your friend is probably locked out.”

I didn’t correct him that it was my mom and brother. Instead, I just followed them out of the room. One of them—I think it was Colm—opened the door and waited for me to walk out first. I felt all special and like a princess. *sheepish grin* Hey, I don’t get chivalry around here often, not in person. So when I do, it makes me feel nice.

Sure enough, Mom and Larry came running up as soon as we exited the lounge. Mom apologized, saying that she had been walking as fast as she could. I said it was fine, and glanced over my shoulder at the four handsome Irishmen and the beautiful Irish lady behind me.

We got into a position. I had the biggest grin on my face when Tadhg pulled us all close together in order to get all of us in view of the camera—and he put his arm around my shoulder. *grins* Áine was standing on my other side, and the other three stood around us.

Mom took two pictures (added note: I'm only showing the one that came out the best); I thanked them all for taking the picture, and then happily trotted off after Mom and Larry.

From left to right - James, Áine, me, Tadhg, Conal, and Colm.

At some point—I think it was soon after dinner—I went to go and watch the Celtic Thunder Karaoke. It was fun to listen to the people sing Celtic Thunder songs (that’s what it was; karaoke where only Celtic Thunder songs were sang).

There were a few really nice guys in the crowd. I didn’t recognize them, but one tall, young guy with dark hair and a beard approached me from behind. I had no idea he was there until he amiably placed his hand on my shoulder, leaned down so that tiny me could hear him, and asked, “Are you going to sing?”

As much as I liked that idea, I still shook my head with a laugh and replied (he also leaned down again so he could hear me), “No, I can’t sing. I’m horrible at it.”

He laughed and patted my shoulder. “Me either. I can’t ever sing on key.” I said I couldn’t either.

We kept watching the karaoke; he wandered the crowd a bit, but always returned to his position  either behind me or beside me. His friends also stayed close-by.

At one point, the dark-haired man did a dance up front during one of the karaoke songs. He looked very similar to one of the dancers from Gaelic Rhythm, the dance team onboard the ship, and danced similarly... so I thought they were the dancers.

As I realized later on... they weren't. XD Fortunately for me, they were Irish performers as well (okay, drink mixologists or something, but how could I have known that?! :P), so they didn't find it weird when I asked for a photograph later on.

I was surprised to see them mingling with the crowd rather than hiding out, but I wasn’t complaining, especially since they were all standing near me. XD

One young man - Kyle - who sang karaoke was a boy with Down Syndrome. He had a very hard time of it, but the crowd, including myself, applauded and cheered thunderously. Two of the dancers (not the one who had spoken to me) jumped up on the small stage and sang with him. Then Seamus, the person controlling the sound, joined in.

At the end, the boy was congratulated by many people. I went up and said, “Good job!”, and offered my hand for him to shake. He took it for a split second, and then stepped forward and gave me a huge hug.

I couldn’t help saying, “Aww...” before hugging him back tight. Then I returned to my position next to the Irish guys whom I thought were dancers. XD

The dark-haired man was so friendly, I even felt comfortable enough to tap his shoulder at one point and say teasingly, “You should sing!”

He had been getting that a lot, but always adamantly refused, especially when Seamus—the sound man—placed a microphone near his mouth (Seamus did that to members of the crowd so that they could sing along).

He refused again. But then, one or so songs later... when Michael Londra, another Irish singer who is on the ship, sang I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For... one or two of the dancers, along with none other than the dark-haired one, jumped up on the stage and sang along. I cheered very loudly, happy to see my (or so I consider him) newfound friend singing.

It's a bad picture (I kept getting jostled), but there are the two Irish guys on the left (the one in the middle is my friend), Michael Londra, and then a very blurred Irish performer making his way off the stage. XD

I asked him if I could get my picture taken with him and his friends—at the time, I thought he was a member of Gaelic Rhythm. Ciaran Keating, to be exact. They do look quite similar, and dance in the same way. Apparently, he was part of some other performer group (added note: *cough* the mixologists... I will never stop being embarrassed about this XD)... but hey, he agreed to take a photo with me.

After my mom had taken about three photographs (the two best ones are shown after this paragraph), I shook the man’s hand. He held it for several seconds longer than normal and smiled. Then I headed off with my mom and my brother.

One of the Irish performers, my friend, and me. XD

The entire team and I. XD

We went to the Celtic Thunder Mythology show later on, and it was a whole lot of fun. I sang along... until my brother snapped at me to knock it off. I loved all the songs that were playing, and it was amusing to see my mom’s face when old 80s and 90s songs that she recognized would play.

Here is the stage on which all of the big shows played.

Afterwards, I headed out onto the Lido Deck to hang out with Sammi. Mom checked on us once or twice, and then went to bed. Sammi and I walked around the ship chatting; she cursed once or twice, as is inevitable with most public schoolers. But for the most part she was very polite and well-behaved.

We went down on the deck and listened to Goitse, a traditional Irish band, play music. It was such great music to dance to, I couldn’t help it. Me and Sammi kept performing impromptu dances that were absolutely horrible but fun—and that’s the important thing, right?

There are these cameras on deck, and a big screen right at the top of the deck. And that screen shows up on the TVs in the rooms at all times, right?

Well, since tonight was Costume Night, people were dressed in crazy costumes. Sammi was wearing a dress she made herself out of duct tape (it’s amazing, by the way). Anyway, at some point, she let out an exclamation of excitement and pointed at the screen.

I frowned, and glanced up. For a second, I didn’t realize what was showing up. Then, upon closer glance...

It was us. No doubt the cameramen meant to point the camera at Sammi, but since I was standing right next to her, I was up there on this huge screen. People in their rooms probably saw it.

My immediate reaction was to clap a hand over my mouth with an embarrassed and shocked laugh and exclaim quietly, “Oh my goodness gracious—oh my days, that is horrifying.” Sammi giggled at that.

At 11:25pm, I reluctantly returned to my room. I donned my pajamas, turned on my MP3 player, and climbed into bed. I sat there daydreaming about various fantasies, making plans for the Ceilidh dance at the end of the cruise, and feeling very happy. It had been a wonderful day.



Day 1
Day 2
Day 3
Day 5
Day 6
Day 7

The Celtic Thunder Cruise 2013 - Day 3

November 2^nd, 2013
04:09 GMT (3:34 AM)
Miami Sun Hotel

Well, it may not be easy, but one thing’s for sure—this is certainly an adventure.

I’m currently in what has to be the seediest, uncomfortable hotel this side of the United States. XD

There is rust practically all over the tiled floors, weird shiny spots on the wall, broken electrical outlets, bedsheets that are clean but show stains that never washed out. And the hallways on more than half the floors smell like cigarette smoke. (Added note: Here are some pictures of the hotel room.)

The view from the Miami Sun Hotel room window.

Hehe. My trusty sonic flashlight.

The beds belonging to my brother and I. Yes, the one with the laptop and Ohio State hoodie is mine. :P

The cracked and breaking outlet next to my bed. 

My little comfort zone, where I curled up to try and relax. Well, the laptop and bed. Not so much the textbooks and schoolwork you see there.

The old refrigerator and microwave; the best part of the room. :P Notice the brown splotches on the floor underneath the fridge...? Yeaaah. I don't even know what those are.

A bad photo, but here is either rust or reddish mold, which was everywhere on the floor. Hence why we all wore our shoes from the moment we got there until the moment we left.

Part of the other side of the room; on the other side of the right wall is Mom's bed.

The mirror in the bathroom; if you look closely at the area where the blue door shows up, you can see weird black marks on the glass of the mirror. :P

The bathroom ceiling. Does anyone have any clue what that weird brownish-black ring is in the right-hand corner? I don't. XP

But I’m not complaining. It’s a place to stay, and we’re leaving in a few hours anyhow. I slept all of two hours yet again, but I’m not complaining about that either—I hadn’t expected to get any sleep at all.

We left the Sheraton Hotel yesterday at around 8:30am, and hung around outside while we waited for the transport to take us to our next location. The transportation was crowded, but not too bad. Then it dropped us off at the airport, where we waited for the MetroRail bus. I managed to use some WiFi to check a few things before it died. :P 

The view from our hotel room in early morning.

Finally, the MetroRail bus arrived. It then took us to the train station, where we waited for almost forty minutes for our train to come.

I’m not at all used to the heat in this area; I’m a Washington State girl, and heat isn’t normal there. So the heat made me feel rather sick; I slumped on a bench, wishing I could find an accessable WiFi hotspot, and feeling like I had a very bad fever. Since I had only slept for two hours the night before, I was also tired.

The train came rumbling in at 10:17, and we boarded. I sat by the window and waited for the train to reach our destination. Somewhere along the line, I couldn’t keep my eyes open—but I couldn’t take a nap either.

Finally, we stopped and got off the train. Then there was more walking around the station as we tried to figure out how to buy tickets for the next train we had to take to get to Miami. We were waiting there for about twenty minutes.

Then the train came hurtling down the tracks, whooshing to a stop beside us. We boarded. I took advantage of the WiFi for a little bit, chatting one of my best friends and my Ohioan twin. Then my laptop started blinking in an effort to warn me that the battery was extremely low. I told my friends that I would message them whenever I got to the hotel, and shut my laptop to preserve its power.

These two adorable little boys and their parents were sitting behind us; I enjoyed watching them. One seemed about five, and the other couldn’t have been older than three—he was most likely around two.

After another twenty minutes, the train came to a stop, and we got off in Miami. Then came what must have been at least thirty minutes, possibly more, wandering around town in the sweltering heat, completely and utterly lost.

I was in rather higher spirits than I had been before though, because I was 97% sure that the next hotel would have free WiFi. I was tired, yeah, but not too depressed or sad.

Finally, after asking several people where the hotel was and backtracking several times, we found the hotel.

When I walked into the lobby, I was completely shocked. :P There was spilled coffee in the entrance, and a trail of it leading all the way to the center of the lobby. The floors were rather dingy, and it was small.

I thought nothing of it, and sat down to rest my aching feet while Mom checked us in. A few minutes later, we were dragging our luggage into the elevator.

Which was about the size of a broom closet. :P

It was also very slow, and it took several minutes to reach the fifth floor. When we stepped out, we were met with the stale smell of cigarette smoke and dirty floors. Upon a second glance at our key, we realized that we were supposed to be on the sixth floor. Back to the broom closet elevator we went.

As soon as we got into the room, all three of us were cringing. (Added note: You can see the corresponding pictures up above.) Rust (or reddish mold, I’m unsure which) lined the bottom of the walls and when I tried to plug my laptop charger into one of the electrical outlets, I realized it was somewhat broken—the plug just fell right out again.

Fortunately, I found a different outlet next to my bed and plugged it in there, eager to tap into the free WiFi.

And then I discovered I couldn’t get into any of the free hotspots. I felt rising panic again, and asked Mom if I could go down to the front desk and ask what in the world was going on. She insisted that she come with me; as it turns out, she had seen a few drunk guys out front and didn’t want me downstairs alone.

So we trooped downstairs. As it turns out, the lady at the check-in desk had forgotten to give us the code for their WiFi. She did, and we went back upstairs. I sat down again and typed the code into one of the hotspots, inwardly pleading with it to work.

It did, though it took a while. A rush of relief washed over me as I clicked into Gmail and poked my head into Skype. I began to get responses from friends—and even though the hotel room was extremely creepy-looking and I was homesick, I felt much more peaceful.

I spent the rest of the day and night on the computer—literally. I spent the afternoon doing homework and talking alternately; Mom and my brother went on a walk, leaving me alone for a whle. I took the chance to use Gmail to call that one good friend from the other night. We chatted for about ten minutes, and then my family returned.

I let them in, and then reluctantly told my friend I should go—Mom was telling me I needed to do schoolwork and focus on that. So we ended the call... and that, I think is the last time I’ll hear his voice for another five days. *winces*

Since I knew I probably wouldn’t get any sleep, I wondered if I could stay up late. I was told ‘yes’, and spent the rest of the day looking forward to going to bed and writing, or chatting, or just relaxing for the last time until I go home.

And, believe it or not, I was on the internet all night. The WiFi kept dying, and I had several panic attacks; afraid that it would die for good. I was worried sick, literally—my stomach ached, I was dizzy, I wanted to cry...

Not to mention I’ve not stopped jittering and trembling since I got on the plane. *rolls eyes* I know, I’m pathetic.

I felt so much more relaxed. With it dark, and my brother sleeping in the bed next to me (or getting up to fetch water from the miniature fridge, or looking out the peephole at the hallway in an effort to see who was making so much noise), and talking to my friends on my laptop all night... it almost felt like home.

I could pretend that I was just home. That my mom had allowed me a wireless internet modem in my room, and I was staying up late chatting. For a while, everything was normal, and when a friend of mine messaged me on his own (I’m usually the one to initiate conversations with all of my friends; rarely do friends initiate conversations with me first) to say hello, I was actually happy.

I didn’t get any writing done, but I chatted for hours to Andy, Ophelia, Matt, Elizabeth, Jessie, and Robert. By about 1am, everyone was gone except for Matt and Andy. Since I wasn’t tired in the least, I stayed up chatting to them. It was a bit uncomfortable, since the laptop was on the bed, and I had to basically do a sit-up everytime I wanted to type a response to someone. But I wasn’t about to just go to bed.

(Not to mention that there were drunks making noise half the night; both out in the hallways right outside, and the sidewalk below our window. :P)

But... well, Andy went to bed, and Matt did soon after. I was thinking that, since everyone online had gone to bed, I would just attempt to sleep myself. But then I got another message from Andy, who had decided to chat me via his phone from bed. I was all too happy to keep chatting.

Then, well... *winces* I... fell asleep in the middle of the conversation. I woke up two hours later (yes, I got two hours total of sleep; impressive, I know) to see a message from him asking if I had fallen asleep.

I was horrified and sent him a message on both Skype and Gmail, explaining that I had indeed fallen asleep, and said I was really sorry many times—I felt so bad.

He came back a bit after and promised me it was okay, and that he could talk when he got back from the morning outreach he was at (he was texting me with his phone).

Right after he said that, my mom woke up. It was 5am EST, and a little while later, my brother woke up—so the lights went on and people started brushing their teeth and such. I logged onto the campus website to do some of my homework.

I spent the entire morning switching from chatting to people, doing homework, and eating a small breakfast (a small piece of banana bread and a lot of water). I stressed out over my geology homework for a long while; it was confusing, even with Mom helping me, and I just know I got it more than half wrong. :P

I began to feel very anxious by daylight. There was only a few hours before I had to go and take a taxi to the Port of Miami and ready myself to board the ship—the ship where WiFi costs an arm and a leg.

My friends tried their best to calm me down; it worked very slightly but not perfectly. I was still very anxious. My shaking got worse than it had been before.

Mom kept extending the time; she wanted to leave at 9am EST, but then consented that I could stay and do homework until about 10am EST. (Eventually, we didn’t leave until about 11am EST.)

At that point, we headed down to the lobby to check out and wait for the taxi; I stayed online a bit longer with the WiFi. I was sitting on a bench with my laptop on my lap—and I could hardly read the screen, because my legs were trembling so much.

Then the taxi arrived. Before I had time to think about panicking, I said goodbye to my friend Elizabeth (who was, by this time, the only one around) and ran out to the taxi.

We drove to the Port of Miami, and headed into... I don’t know what you would call it. It was like an airport, only for planes. A large building in which you checked in and such. The ships were visible from where we got out of the taxi; they were huge, and ours (Carnival Victory) was the biggest.

We spent a long while checking in, having our bags checked by security, and other similar things—while waiting in line to check in, the Celtic Thunder band walked out of a room and up the stairs, down the hall to board the ship.

The noise was tremendous; even though more than 90% of the people crowded around were elderly, there was a ton of cheering and whistling and downright deafening shouts. I cringed, but stayed as still as I could, as I was filming them walk past.

After that, we checked in. My mom was mistaken for our older sister instead of our mother. *grins* Then we had to walk for a while to get to the side of the building where we boarded the ship.

Since I hate escalators, I tried to take the stairs, but someone who worked there stopped me. Not once, but twice—I tried to go up, but she had to check our passes. Then, when I tried to go up again after she checked my pass, she pulled me back and told me to take the escalator.

When I said I didn’t like escalators, she told me to use the elevator and started to lead me there. Beginning to feel a bit skittish (and not wanting to leave my family), I pulled away and told her, “Never mind, I’ll just go with them”, pointing at my mom and brother, who were already on their way up the escalator.

So, skip forward about a half-hour, and we’re on the ship. I clutched my laptop to my chest in fear—I could see over the railing, and I have a severe fear of heights, so... yes. XD I was relieved when we entered the main lobby of the ship; no railings there (just huge, clear glass elevators that scare me when I look through them and all the way down).

My family and I went up the glass elevator, and then found our way to the room. We left our luggage there, and went to explore.

The ship is huge, and I can’t even begin to describe it all. :P The photos I take and eventually show will have to suffice, along with captions.

(Added note: here are some of the photos of the ship!)

The front of the ship, at the Lido Deck.

The pool at the back of the Lido Deck.

A seahorse ornament on the stairs. Seahorses were everywhere on the ship.

A very cool-looking portrait hanging on the wall.

The pool on the Lido Deck.

The view from the ninth floor (or deck, as it is technically called; just inside and not outside).

The pattern on the carpet of the elevator rooms.

The water slide out on the Lido Deck (the ninth deck). 

A view of Miami from the ship's deck.

Another view of Miami from the ship's deck.

The water in Miami.

Another snapshot of Miami, this time from the other side of the deck.

My brother looking out across the ship.

Another cool portrait; it has a verse from the story of Noah on it.

The piano in one of the lounges, which is inside the casino.

The octopus outside of the arcade. XD

The glowing tiles of the dance floor.

One of the three dining rooms.

The glass elevators.

Those glowing signs with the names of all the places that can be found on that specific deck were on each deck, right by the elevators.

Random cakes from the cafe near the casino.

Carrot caaaake.

A yummylicious-looking chocolate cake.

The ice cream at the cafe looked really fancy. o.o

An archaeological-find-looking jar in a place called the Indian Library, right outside of the Internet Cafe.

                                   

The ship's pianist playing a Billy Joel tribute concert with his band.

Most of the day went uneventfully; I explored, trying to withstand the boiling heat, and ate lunch at the buffet. The food tastes funny; either it’s not as good as they boast, or I’m just not used to ‘fancy food’. I never thought I’d say it, but I miss my mom’s cooking. *sheepish half-smile*

But somewhere around the middle of the day... heartache suddenly slammed into me, and I was severely homesick and lonely. It’s strange, but the quote is true—it really is worse to be lonely while surrounded by people who make you feel lonely, than lonely because you’re actually alone.

When we went back to the room to pick some things up and drop some things off... I just broke. I started crying, and trying to stifle it. I managed quite well... until Mom asked me why I was sniffling and if I was allergic to something.

Larry was outside in the hallway waiting for us. She asked me what was wrong, since I just kept saying ‘nothing’. Finally, after she asked me another time what was wrong, the tears escaped and starting rolling down my face.

She hugged me and asked what was wrong. I couldn’t speak for several seconds; my throat was choked up because I was trying to stay silent while crying. I finally managed to stutter out the word ‘homesick’, and then hid my face in her shoulder.

She spent a few minutes trying to console me, reminding me that she was homesick too. Then, since Larry was impatient, we headed out of our room and into the hallways again.

I tried to compose myself, I really did. But my heart hurt too much. Every so often, a few tears would roll down my cheeks or my throat would close up in an attempt to keep sobs from escaping. I just missed people so much.

We spent most of the day wandering around. Mom held my hand a few times when she sensed I was becoming more emotional. We had to go to a safety demonstration; after spending a long time trying to find our way to our specific area (there were areas lettered, and groups had to go to certain areas), we finally found it.

And we were put in front of this huge fan that had my skirt and my hair flying like crazy. :P Luckily, my skirt fit just well enough so that the ridiculously fast wind didn’t mess it up.

I let myself cry a bit, since it was so loud no, no one could hear me. Suddenly, after a short prayer, the tears just stopped. I stood there, staring fixedly out a distant point, determined to set my jaw and not cry again.

The safety demonstration ended. We wandered around more, and the on-and-off tears came back. We went to our room to freshen up and get into more formal clothing. While my brother showered and my mom washed clothes, I allowed myself a short cry without worrying who heard me. Then my brother stopped showering and I had to go quiet again.

Well, we went to dinner a while after. We had stayed in our room for a while watching Into The West; much to our excitement, it was on TV. It’s a favorite Irish film of mine. And it just keeps playing, like it’s on repeat, which is awesome. I can also watch Celtic Thunder concerts on TV as well, if I want.

Anyway... while it’s hot on most parts of the ship, the dining areas are freezing. The air conditioner is on far too high. After a short while, I was shivering. The tears continued to turn on and off. 

The table arrangement for our dining room.

A portrait of a ship in the dining room.

When the ice water came, I desperately took a drink every few seconds; it helped keep the sobs at bay. Whenever my throat would start to constrict, I would take a drink of cold water. And while it made me colder, it kept me from crying. I saw my brother rolling his eyes, but struggled to ignore it.

Mom was sympathetic; she held my hand for a few minutes, and I gave her a long hug at some point.

During dinner, a waiter accidentally dropped the plates he was holding. Food and broken glass went everywhere. I felt so sorry for the poor guy. The tears went away for the time, and I found myself wishing I could get up (he was right next to our table) and help him clean up. I didn’t though; Mom said they would most likely not let me help.

I ate some lettuce, a small amount of macaroni-and-cheese, and a bit of grilled fish. I’ve not eaten a lot today; I couldn’t even finish the smoothie I had to drink, no matter how delicious it was. My stomach hurt from stress, anxiety, and wanting to cry; I just wasn’t hungry. The waitress seemed a little disappointed that we weren’t going to buy dessert; maybe I’ll order less dinner tomorrow and get dessert instead. Who knows, maybe I’ll feel better and be able to eat normally.

After dinner, we headed to go and get our photo taken with Celtic Thunder. I realized I had forgotten the camera back at the table, and ran back to get it. Then we proceeded to where we had to go.

We got lost again and had to ask directions. Then we found it and stood in line for about a half-hour or so; and we were actually near the front of the line.

My mom couldn’t take pictures or videos; it wasn’t allowed. :/ But the professional photographer took a picture of me and my brother with the Celtic Thunder lads (my mom didn’t want her picture taken), and they’re supposedly going to email it to us.

We wandered around some more, and then went back to our room to check the schedule. We thought there was a show tonight, but it turns out there wasn’t. So we decided to get ready for the night; we went down to the buffet to bring back a few glasses of water for in the middle of the night. Mom also brought up a few small pieces of cake and a banana, for breakfast in the morning.

Then we started to clean ourselves up and get ready for bed. As I went into the bathroom, I heard Larry say, “Teddy better not cry so much tomorrow. I’m sick of it.”

Of course, that made me cry some more. I waited ‘til I was in the shower though, so I could sob without being heard. The shower water mingled with the tears.

Mom came in after I had gotten dressed and hugged me again, saying it was okay, and to try not to cry as much (but in a much nicer way than my brother). We talked about our homesickness for a while, and then decided that if I needed to cry, I could wait until my brother fell asleep or go out on the deck for a bit to do so.

And now I’m sitting here in bed. Mom and Larry are watching a Mission Impossible movie, I’m typing this, and we’re all trying to unwind. I’m not fighting tears anymore—except for a few minutes ago when my brother said, “Try not to cry so much tomorrow. It bugs me.”

That made me blink back tears again. My mom reprimanded him, ordering him to stop telling me what to my emotions do. He protested, “It’s just embarrassing!”

Then Mom noticed I was fighting back tears again and scolded Larry, “Now look, you’re making her cry again! Stop it!”

He said something about me being too sensitive. I stared fixedly at the laptop screen. Mom put a hand on my knee and asked if I was okay. My answer was an uncertain ‘yes’.

I promised Lizabeth I would try to write about at least one good thing in my journal entries each night, so...

I have three good things to write about, Lizabeth-sis. *smiles* The first is that I got to have my picture taken with the Celtic Thunder lads. I didn’t get to shake their hands or even say hello, but hey, I got my picture, and my mom said it looked like it would turn out ‘cute’.

The second is that Mom, after a talking-to from a good friend of mine, is making more of an attempt to understand me—and is doing as my friend suggested and giving me more hugs or holding my hand when she sees me starting to get really emotional.

The third is that I got to talk to you and Andy this morning. *grins*

While I’m at it, some more good things are that I’ve been praying a lot more (and God is good; I can feel Him helping me through this), and I’ve already met two people from South Africa, one from the UK, one from Jamaica, one from Granada, and one from Mexico (all employees).

Yeah, Andy, I’m trying to do as you challenged me to. *smiles a bit* I haven’t actively searched out someone to talk to; all the people I’ve met so far have been employees here, and have either introduced themselves as ‘so-and-so from [country]’, or had their country on their nametag. But I am keeping an eye out for people from other countries, just like I said. I’m going to try and talk to people more when I’m not as choked up.

Well, that’s about it... I’m going to try and get some sleep tonight (since I’ve only had eight hours in the last three days), or read, or something. And, if I’m lucky... I’ll get to say hello to a few friends when Mom buys WiFi tomorrow for me to do school with. *is very hopeful that those she wants to talk to are around*

God bless you all, and I’ll see you soon. Love you all!

Allonsy!



Day 1
Day 2
Day 4
Day 5
Day 6
Day 7