Barcelona to Abu Dhabi: A Very Fine Day in Muscat, Oman

Overnight, Christmas has begun to happen on the Nautica. As I head up for my morning coffee in the Horizons Lounge, a decorated tree has magically appeared overnight. As the day goes on, more and more trees will appear. I am such a believer in Christmas. Today, we are approaching Muscat, a city I love, and there is a Christmas tree in Horizons! How can the day get any better?

A fabulous early morning sunrise is icing on the cake.

Coming in to Muscat.








We had been so disappointed to be in Muscat only for a few hours and to know that on Friday the Muttrah souk would not open until late afternoon. We had signed up for a dhow ride. We like dhows, and we are only in Muscat for such a short time! Once we discovered the souk would be opening early, and closing at the mid-day call for prayer, we decided to skip the dhow ride and take the shuttle into Muscat. Changing our plan changed everything. Our disappointment lifted; we felt empowered once again! We could choose our own adventure!


I head back to the cabin to check on AdventureMan. He is not there! Natalia, our cabin attendant, tells me he just left looking for me, he went THAT way, and I go to the cabin. I knew we could spend a lot of time chasing one another and that the best thing was to stay in one place. I spent a short time putting together a GO bag, water, etc, then he was back.
We went for breakfast and decided we are ready to go.

We meet with the local destination resource who gives us a good map, and we head for the shuttle, which arrives just as we leave the ship. There are Hop On Hop Off buses all lined up to take others on their adventures, too!

It takes us 300 yards to the immigration building, we get our little card and we get back on the bus. The driver takes us another mile and we are at the Muttrah Souk.


Much to my surprise, there is a lot of local activity. We are among the first to arrive, but there are local women doing their shopping, shopping for gold, with their babies, some with their husbands.







This man was so kind. He had just bought some freshly cooked Felafel, and AdventureMan asked him how much they were. He immediately went and bought some for AM, and refused to take any money for them. They were delicious. Of course, we bought from his shop.

We keep to the smaller back streets at first, and I look longingly in the beautiful gold souks, remembering days of long ago when I would admire, but know that nothing I was seeing (mostly bridal and dowry jewelry) would be anything I could wear in my life.



We also saw fabric shops and notions shops which made me drool, and I had to stop to admire – but not to buy. I know where my granddaughter gets her love for glitz – the gold trim dazzles me, but I have nowhere to wear it.



We wander around, nothing looks that familiar, and then suddenly, it does. We shop the back streets for perfume bottles, scarves/shawls for gifts, and something for the postman – we find him an Oman snow globe. We stop for drinks, in a central, shady restaurant where I have pomegranate juice and AM has strawberry – delicious and refreshing.

And it is HOT. We have been thinking it would be hot once we hit Haifa but were lucky to have cooler weather through Haifa and Luxor. Even at sea in the Red Sea, it has been comfortable. It didn’t get HOT until today.

The souks begin to fill up; the tour buses have finished their trips and are dropping the riders at the souks.









We were actually back on the boat by noon – the souks are just minutes away – and there was another fish soup for lunch. It tasted a lot like the bouillabaisse but was a zarzuela. After lunch, we hit the spa. We lay out on the divans for a short while but it was HOT. The Nautica departs at four.
Tomorrow we will arrive in Dubai, but not until noon or so, and then we have a trip to Sharjah, a small emirate that I have never seen. Then we have dinner and make sure our bags are packed and ready to go because our next stop is Abu Dhabi and disembarkation, which they say is very uncomplicated.
AdventureMan is restless, we go up for tea and to watch the ship depart. Joined by friends from England, we chatted about our day in Muscat. As we chatted, dolphins swam back and forth across the wake in the back of the boat.

Back in the cabin, at sunset, Ashok brought appetizers – egg rolls and two scones. We’ve been eating all day – lightly – but we will save the scones for dessert.

Barcelona to Abu Dhabi: Thanksgiving on our Last Day at Sea
This is some fascinating territory we are covering on our last day at sea. You might think that we could get from one city in Oman to another in less than one day, which I why I am posting this map. You will see Salalah in the way southwest corner, near the border of Yemen, and Muscat up in the northeast corner, around the corner, across from Iran. During this day, we change bodies of water, from the Gulf of Aden to the Gulf of Oman, and we also change time zones again.

We have some view of Oman, but it is hazy. We see some fishing boats, but they are far away.

This is where I start my day.

This is a little corner in the upstairs lounge, Horizons. I had actually intended to do a last load of laundry, and was at the door the minute it opened, but – someone had gotten there way before I did and EVERY single washer was filled! Two men were right behind me, saw my stunned face, and said “Is that all yours?” Someone had figured out the laundry was open before the posted time; I knew that the laundry would be full the rest of the day and my window had closed.
We learned a lesson the very first time we cruised. We know we are close to disembarkation, and meanwhile, we have two very busy days Muscat and Dubai, and then we hit Abu Dhabi and disembark. We need to use this day for packing, keeping out whatever we need to wear from Muscat and Dubai, and our day in Abu Dhabi. The rest needs to be ready for baggage pickup.
On our first cruise, we understood the drill in theory, and we had dinner, a long wine-filled dinner with friends, thinking we would have plenty of time to pack. In the meanwhile, I came down with a truly horrible head cold. So I was feeling totally rotten, and I had had a little too much wine and I was making bad decisions. Never again! We plan ahead. We pack in leisure. It saves our marriage and our sanity.

I meet up with AdventureMan for breakfast and the spa. Hmmmm. For the first time, there are others who have figured out the spa is open early. We splash about, lounge about, and head back to the room to begin packing. AdventureMan has it all sorted out in a heartbeat and heads off to a lecture, giving me time and space to think things through. I plan to check one bag, so as not to have to drag it through five airports (Abu Dhabi, Brussels, Montreal, Atlanta, and Pensacola). It has an AirTag. I won’t need cruising clothes. But I do need to think through what I want to have with me for the next two days of touring, a last day spent in Abu Dhabi and then flying out through cold countries to get back to Pensacola.
Dinner comes, and all the Americans head for the Terrace Cafe, most of the other nationalities head to the Main Dining Room, where, we hear, service is very slow, tables are left uncleared and people are grumbling. In the Terrace Cafe, we see people piling their plates with turkey and mashed potatoes, stuffing, and gravy. We are thankful for a very fine Indian biriyani and some fabulous ginger-mango ice cream.
A lovely day to prepare for our exit, and to watch the sun go down on our last day at sea.

At Sea: We Need to Talk About Ashok

Those of you who know AdventureMan and I personally know that we are relentlessly self-reliant. With all our years of moving and living in a variety of countries, we have needed to be, but in truth, we are wired that way. You will laugh when I say I am uncomfortable even introducing this topic.
Our beautiful room comes with a butler.
It has been an awkward dance, but Ashok, our butler, is a pro at assessing people and working with their preferences. We don’t need a lot of service, and he has found ways to make himself useful to us anyway. Discovering I like Ginger Beer, he scoured the bars, alerted his contacts, and made sure our little refrigerator was well stocked with AdventureMan’s Coca Cola, and my Ginger Beer. He was always polite and pleasant.
The night we had decided to have dinner on the balcony after our day in Taormina and had saved parts of our sandwiches from lunch, we also found a generous tray of hors d’oeuvres waiting for us when we arrived late back to the ship. We had to admit, it was really nice, he had intuited well what we might like.
When we got tired of dressing for dinner and asked to have dinner in our room (part of the perks), he served us with elegance and grace, and made it so much fun that we indulged every few nights.
When AdventureMan wanted his laundry done professionally, Ashok made sure it came back very quickly.
In spite of our self-reliance, Ashok learned how to make himself invaluable to us. And, in truth, we really liked him, and loved our discussions with him. We were impressed with his resourcefulness, and his delight in making things happen. He seemed to delight in delighting us.

We are at sea for two days, en route from Messina to Haifa, Israel.
I was wide awake by five, so I got up quietly and dressed, grabbed my computer, found a cup of coffee at Barista’s, and headed up to Horizon’s, the forward observation lounge to check e-mails. Over 300 e-mails, horrors! I spent a while just deleting, then responding to the few requiring attention – requests from Air France for rating how I liked my flights, and a couple e-mails from friends. Most of the time, in this large lounge, it was just me and one or two others. I did get a nice photo of the sun coming up; it looks a lot like the day before.

When I headed back to our cabin, AdventureMan was just getting up, so we went together to breakfast where I am so delighted to find marinated herring and smoked salmon, two of my favorite things in the world. (It’s my Swedish blood talking.) AdventureMan finds herring abhorrent, and so does the Indonesian lady dishing it up; when I say a bright cheery “thank you!” her response was meant to be a smile, but it was a little twisted by disgust. I also had my virtuous oatmeal, with virtuous fresh blueberries – so much temptation, but my blood sugar is well within normal and I want to keep it there.

After breakfast I introduced AdventureMan to a new thrill – the spa pool at the front of the ship. It is just below the Horizons Lounge, and we had noticed that if you enter the pool by the stairs, you are visible to the people in the lounge. It doesn’t bother AdventureMan, but I figured out how to enter from the side, so as to remain unseen. The spa is very warm to hot, and can be made to bubble, so we had a wonderful twenty minutes in the hot tub in the fresh air, then we headed back to our room.


This early morning trip to the spa, having it all to ourselves, became another guilty pleasure. So lovely, so indulgent.
This quiet sea day, I napped a lot. I meant to read. I meant to update this journal. I napped. I don’t even feel guilty, it felt so good.
Our cabin as all shades of grayish green, sea colors. The walls look almost gray, but there are streaks of green in the wall paper. The upholstered headboard is a very pale shade of sea-green. The furniture and pillows a little bit darker shade of green, and the two pashmina throws to keep us warm are almost an exact match to the furniture. It’s all very soothing.
There is a little “couch,” really more of a love-seat, where I can fall asleep very easily.
Space is smartly allocated so that there is plenty of closet space, with doors that open so you can see everything, and enough hangers. (Enough hangers! I didn’t have to ask for more!) There are enough drawers to stow things in neatly. The bathroom has two upper-side cupboards, and two lower cupboards with shelves, too. There is more cupboard space in the bathroom than we need; we can keep everything in cupboards, out of sight. (This is a first.)
The ship is very silent. We don’t hear the motors, or the anchors dropping or lifting. We feel little sways and jerks now and then. At one point the weather changed briefly, we had rain. At night the ship swayed enough to cause some to have problems with balance, but it wasn’t much. We can feel the boat rock side to side, just a little, now and then. It is like being a baby again, held against your Mama as she walks about, feeling safe and secure. I napped a lot.
Dinner this night at sea was an Italian Market special, and we ate once again in the casual restaurant but dressed up a little. As it was a little cold and windy, we ate inside instead of at our usual table on the back terrace. It was one of my favorite meals – grilled Italian vegetables (mostly eggplant and peppers) and a big bowl of an Italian kind of Bouillabaisse, a fish stew, and it was wonderful.
In the restaurant, I could overhear a conversation I longed to join, two tables away, about Amor Towles and A Gentleman in Moscow. I tried to see who the people were, an assortment of six, but I am not sure I would recognize them again. Another woman, seated nearby, was very blonde with a bright red pashmina wrapped around her shoulders – I’ve always envied that drama, and know it isn’t really my style.
Even though I napped a lot during the day, I slept well this night for the first time since Barcelona.
We slept fairly well through the night, awakening around five but getting back to sleep again for another day at sea. Nice breakfast on the Terrace (my virtuous oatmeal, this time with fresh raspberries), followed by another early visit to the spa, where at that early hour, we have it all to ourselves. We were out in time to get ready for the Veteran’s Day/ Remembrance Day Ceremony at 9:15 in the Nautica Lounge. It was simple, short and sweet.
We were back at the Nautica Lounge just a short while later for another enrichment lecture on the Knights Hospitaler and Knights Templar, which helps put everything in context for our upcoming trip to Acre while we stop in Haifa.
We nap and read through the quiet afternoon as we pass south of Crete and Greece, never seeing a speck of land. Tonight is dinner at Toscana, the ship’s specialty Italian restaurant; we have dinner reservations at seven. We know a waiter who works there, Buti, and he has been waiting for us to come see him.
The problem, for us, is that by late afternoon we are already closing down. We’ve always been this way, but when we were younger, we really didn’t know it. We dress, I wear the one little black dress I have brought for special evenings, with a red scarf, my own toast to a little drama. When we get to Toscana, there is a line, the restaurant isn’t open yet so we go into the library. Shortly, the Jewish Shabbat began, and we left to give them privacy, got in the line, and very shortly got in and asked to be seated in Buti’s section.
Buti treated us like gold. We felt so special. When I ordered, he insisted I add a small dish of pasta, angel hair aglio oglio, and when he brought it, it was perfect. He also brought a small bowl of sambol oelek sauce, which I know from Kuwait and Qatar, spicy hot peppers in a little vinegar, absolutely divine. I also had Veal Marsala, and AdventureMan had a Caprese Salad and Linguini Cioppiono. Altogether, it was a lovely meal. All around us people were laughing and talking, a single man at the next table was reading Saul Bellow, and as nice as it all was, it was slowly elegant and we got restless. We skipped dessert, which is a really good thing, because my blood sugar was 123 the next day, which gave me a good wake-up call.
I loved the sambol oelek, and I loved the angel hair pasta. It’s hard for me to be gracious after five at night. When we got home, we were exhausted. Everyone is so kind, wanting to make us feel so special, and I just feel tired and happy to be back in my room getting ready for bed.
We Sail Away on Oceania’s Nautica
AdventureMan made a good call. It feels like forever since we have gotten up without an alarm, and had time to take time. We got up, dressed, made sure our bags to be picked up and transported to the Nautica were ready to go, and headed down to breakfast. At a nearby table, I spotted two men who had also sat near us the day before. I noticed them because they were kind to each other, and seemed to have really good conversations. Sometimes you just have a feeling.
Our 10:45 departure actually took place at close to 11. We had been ushered to a separate lounge downstairs, as other cruisers – maybe from other ships, too – were all sitting in the lobby and there were no seats. We got to the bus and and Alan and Ed, whom we had seen at breakfast, were sitting behind us. We had a nice chat – they are long-time Oceania cruisers. About our age, they have been many places, including Swaziland, and are on the ship all the way to South Africa, more than 30 days. They also both use the same camera I am using. It was a fun conversation, and we ended up running into them often, and always had good visits.
The boarding process was smooth and unhurried We checked in to our muster station, which was the Nautica’s main lounge.

We decided to find a shady spot by the pool while we waited for our staterooms to be ready.



They called our level around 12:30 and I got a nice surprise when we got to our suite – it is larger than I expected. It has more storage than I expected. It has larger closets and more hangers than I expected The bathroom, while small, has a lot of storage.





It has lovely shades of sea green, a dining room table with two comfy chairs, a small couch with coffee table, and a comfy, firm bed with good linens. The balcony is large, with comfy reclining wicker furniture.



You probably wonder why I am showing you these details. Everyone had different priorities, and this will be a long trip. We put a little extra money into a larger room so we would be able to move around without annoying each other. We know we will be spending a lot of time in this room. So to enter, and to find that it is lovely and spacious matters to us. We can breathe in this room.
We put away clothes and make ourselves at home, then go for lunch at Waves, a casual restaurant near the pool where I had salmon – not that great – and AdventureMan had an ahi tuna sandwich, which he said was pretty good. My salmon was overcooked and dry.

We explored, then headed back to the cabin for some quiet time around four.


The library had all the newest best sellers and great travel and reference books about the places we would see.


These signs below are everywhere. At first, it can be hard knowing which way is foreward and which is aft, and whether you are on port or starboard, but the signs keep you informed. One of the crewmembers told us when we come off the stairs to look for the telephone; our cabin is on that side.


Below is Bhuti, one of the first people we met on board. He would always go out of his way to make sure we had the things we liked, including an Indonesian sauce called Sambol. He treated us like honored guests. I think the staff must have entered information in computers everyone could check, information about the passengers, because everywhere we went, people knew what we liked. It was actually kind of fun to be taken care of so hospitably.

As we left the cabin, we met Miguel, our next-door neighbor. Miguel and Maria are very quiet. They had only a day in Barcelona but had hired a private guide who took them everywhere. Miguel’s face lit up as he told us about their adventures during that day. We learned also that they met when they were sixteen, and married in their early twenties, and you could see, after all these years, how devoted they were to one another. Whenever we met up, we would have great conversations. It’s amazing to me that the people we liked the best on the trip were people we met at the very beginning. Running into them and having these animated discussions made the ship feel like a village.
The ship was due to depart at 6:00, so we went out to the highest deck to watch.






Finally, we decided to go eat, at the Terraces restaurant, where we found a seat out on the aft terrace, lovely, uncrowded, warm, and not windy, and we could watch Barcelona recede into the distance as we sailed away. The ship had left while we were in transition to the restaurant and we didn’t even feel it.

We wanted to eat light; we are both still getting used to the time change, so I looked for the pumpkin soup and finally asked a server who was standing by a big black cauldron – full of pumpkin soup. There was a platter of paella, too, so I had a small amount of that. Sitting outside watching the lights of Barcelona grow smaller in the warm evening with the full moon was delightful.
After dinner we came back to the cabin and I figured out how to work the internet. We can only use one electronic device at a time. I meant to update this journal but found nearly 400 emails I needed to delete and eleven to which I needed to respond. Meanwhile, AdventureMan, exhausted, fell asleep, so I decided to read for a while until I was sleepy – I’m having trouble getting to sleep. It will get better.
The ship is amazingly quiet. We don’t hear the engines. We didn’t even know when the ship pulled away from the dock, it was so smooth. The ship doesn’t rock, at least not much. The corridors are quiet. The dining rooms are full of people, but conversations are quiet. There are no children on this ship. It looks to me like we are right at the median of the age on board. There are much older folk, and then there are some in their fifties. There are a few with mobility issues.
Adieu, Émile

As we stood outside in the back of the house, looking at the little courtyard and the terraces, my daughter-in-law said “We call this the cat crossing. We don’t know where they all come from, but there are always cats crossing.”
Soon we had one who came regularly, a cat like we have never had before. He was young and scrawny (we’ve had young, scrawny cats before) and his left eye was opaque. He showed up faithfully around the time we fed our indoor cats, looking for a meal, thus Émile. We bought separate bowls, and kept him – and his comrades – fed. Even when we travel, our housekeeper/ cat sitter would make sure he never went hungry.

The only way we knew he might like us was that when he heard our voices, he would come hang out. We were never able to get closer than 3 feet away from him, and even 3 feet made him goosey. We would thrill when he would spend a day or two up in his niche, a safe little place surrounded on all sides. Late in the day, he would wander away until meal time the next morning.

He was, like most cats, a ferocious hunter, and was proud to show off his latest squirrel or bird; what cat doesn’t love a fresh hot meal?
But one day, about two months ago, he started looking a little peaky. The last time I saw him, he was having trouble with a back leg. He disappeared.
Cats do that – outdoor cats. When they are unwell, they go somewhere. Sometimes they get better. We’ve had cats come back before, but I don’t think Emile will be back. The other cats have disappeared, too. There may be some kind of a cat virus going around, or, God forbid, someone may be poisoning them.
We would have liked to provide for Emile, to take him to a vet, get him immunized, get him checked out. We would have liked to give him affection. We would have liked for him to trust us.
And a part of me, thinking like a feral cat, imagines that none of that was of any interest to Emile. He seemed happy with the life he had, free, with a free-range menu supplemented by these strange two-legged beings who put out offerings for him on a regular basis. We sort of knew that this would be the way it ended, that he would ghost us in the end.
Being pragmatic, knowing the probability of this particular kind of ending, doesn’t make it any better. We’re still sad he is gone, and thankful for the time we had him in our lives.
Living off My Fat: Adaptation
It probably all started growing up in Alaska, where my mother would measure us in July to order our snowsuits as soon as the new catalogs came out. We lived where ships didn’t come in the winter, so supplies for the winter needed to be ordered – and received – before the ships could no longer navigate the channel.

Then came our life in Germany, where we lived by what my sister called “Commissary rules.” Her one word of advice as a newlywed leaving Germany, while I was staying, was “When you see something in the Commissary or PX you think you MIGHT need, buy it.” Definitely a no-regrets philosophy.

When we were sent to live in Tunisia, in the late 1970’s, we were instructed to take everything we might need for the next two years. Some things – chocolate chips – we learned to live without. We adapted to new foods, new ways of doing things. One of the great treats was the fresh, gorgeous, silky olive oil; I would take my jar to the little olive oil vendor at the nearby souk and he would weigh my jar, fill it, subtract the weight of the jar and charge me for the oil, which made everything taste French.

I did have a two-year supply of shoes for a growing toddler, also clothing for him in graduated sizes, and two years of age-appropriate books I could pull out of the closet. We were able to mail-order through the embassy pouch, and my mother was able to mail me little extras. One year, when I was running the Christmas bazaar, she was able to find red and green Christmas fabrics in July, at a discount, and mail them to us for our crafting. It was such a luxury!
In Qatar, I was always bringing back duffels with quilting rulers and rotary cutters for my quilting friends. In Kuwait, it was books for my book club and American sugar for a friend who liked to bake. Kuwait had sugar, but more coarse, and American sugar melts more quickly for a finer result. Who knew?
There are items from the past I still have in abundance – dental floss, women’s underwear, shoes – and staples I buy but no longer use in the quantities I once did because we no longer live a life where we entertain a lot nor prepare for unexpected people on temporary duty who need a meal and an exchange of currency. I am trying to bring down my supplies of artichoke hearts and pimentos, beans and rice, canned tomatoes, chutney, Tupperware and hand soap.

My Little Free Library, one of the best birthday gifts ever, helps me keep my books from overflowing.

We are happy, these days, to be living with less. We are still caught by surprise by rolls of baking parchment we are still using from Kuwait, dental floss leftover from our years in Tunis and an excess of Christmas decorations we still need to pare down. We try to go easy on ourselves. “Ah,” we sigh, “it’s a process.” God grant that we live long enough to use up all those supplies we bought “just in case.”