My summer vacation....

What I did on my summer vacation….

Very expensive 8-day cruise—the Trade Routes of Spain and Portugal, by Gohagan of Chicago—I’ve since seen  less expensive, longer trips—and this one didn’t even include Barcelona, unless you had an add-on! (Though we left from the Barbelona airport.)

I thought the cruise was only for Columbia graduates, but other schools’ alumni were there, too—Notre Dame, Case Western--

VERY expensive—I misplaced my sunglasses, wanted to buy some on board--$299! I asked for a cheaper pair, was told that all sold for $299—I’m ashamed to tell you what my own sunglasses cost--

But plenty of free wine—(and chamapgne)--plenty of food—free slippers and bathrobe—in short, a luxurious cruise for people accustomed to luxury—which, alas, didn’t include yours truly—as a Time Inc editor once told me, you can take the man out of West New York (the industrial town I came from), but not the West New York out of the man—(I wrote an article for Money magazine about private schools—I was awed—the editors decided it was a mistake to assign a lower-middle-class person, who had attended a small ragtag public high school, to write about fancy private schools--I remember writing: A private school is what God intended all high schools to be.)

Boat staff was very friendly and helpful—but a “welcome back to the  boat” celebration when we returned from a few-hours land excursion, complete with pianist, was excessive—

Food aboard ship was variable—I’ve learned that if you don’t recognize the fancy words describing the dish, it’s probaby no damn good—nothing inedible, but little  memorable—same was true of the wine--

Also, it was a rather small boat—lots of seasickness the first night when the boat rolled like mad—yes, I succumbed to mal du mer—staff gave out free dramamine pills--

On our daytime excursons, too many cathedrals! I wanted museums—of history, art—concerts—fortunately, no bullfights—read something about real bullfights—horrifying--

A highlight: We visited a former monastery, where George Sand and Chopin lived during one winter—giant models of them—also sheets of C’s music, her mss—we even heard a Chopin concert—Chopin himself, body buried in Paris, his heart in Poland, must have rolled over in both places—pianist was no damn good—wrong notes, no subtlety—but he must play the same stuff all day long for new visitors—still, a highlight of trip—proud of pix of me with chopin/sand images in background--

I bought Sand’s book, A Winter in Mallorca … in which she derided the inhabitants—they didn’t like HER either—started book, clearly a formidably intelligent woman—she once said, to understand all is to forgive all—which B Shaw described accurately as the Devil’s philosophy—but now she has risen in my estimation—

A terrific book I also read on board: Writers in Hollywood—Huxley, Faukner, Fitzgerald—comprehensive; judicious observations--

Started Anthony Trollope’s autobiography—surprisingly good—

Gibraltar: more than just a rock—a thriving community—with apes! The little ones were cute—

Re fellow passengers: didn’t make any new friends—partly because most lived far away—but generally they were rich and sophisticated—travel-wise—people interested in making new friends turn off people not interested in making new friends—for one thing, they’re suspicious—one of the curses of being rich: you think strangers are after your money—which, in many cases, they are--

Sorry we never got to madrid—or saw more of barcelona—but there were spectacular views and spectacular sights—on water and land—I even saw a nude beach!

And, as usual, I should have read more, beforehand, about the countries--

I had been worried, before the trip, that my difficulty in walking would be embarrassing—(I have spinal stenosis)—but most of  my fellow passengers were older people, too, several also with walking problems—and where I had to, I took cabs—

A good idea: Tell the airline you’ll need a wheelchair—you’ll speed right through customs and security--