Hiddenhearth
Earning My Ears
- Joined
- May 16, 2001
Okay, okay, okay.
You people who are encouraging me to go on are too flattering. I wasn't going to bother this forum with more of my ramblings - there are just so many other people telling so many good tales - I thought I'd taken up enough space already.
But if you insist...
Besides, I must correct "Kellyb2000": no, I did not dock the ship. (...maybe I can give you a hint, though...)
Okay. The Surial Bath. Isn't a vacation supposed to take a person out of their everyday, run-of-the-mill existence? On vacation, isn't one supposed to do the things they wouldn't ordinarily do? I think so.
What I do know is that I don't very often meet with my DW sans apparel - sans anything! - to slur mud all over each other. I don't recall ever doing this with her. Come to think of it, I don't recall doing this with anyone (if she reads this, I'm dead).
So prior to our voyage, after reading so many messages about the Surial Bath and that it is a "must do", we decided it would be a "must do" for us, too. On that first day aboard ship, I thought I was so prepared. If you've read all my other ramblings, you might remember that I reserved exactly what I wanted at Palo's (being first in line). Having been told that the Spa was not ready to take reservations until - oh, I can't remember, maybe two o'clock - I relaxed at Topsiders, in total bliss - and proceeded to completely forget to go to the Spa by opening time.
By the time I remembered, their doors had been open an hour or two. DW and I rushed forward to make our appointments.
There were no lines in the Spa. We were offered and declined a tour. We were stopped by the Personal Trainer, who tempted us with her services. Finally we reached the sign-up table for the Spa offerings. Again, no line here.
Alas, the Surial Bath was booked full. Good thing there was no line behind us. DW & I would have shuffled away dumb-founded. As it was, we lingered at the sign-up table, where I stupidly could not accept that what I had so wanted to do was now not an option.
"The Surial Bath is full?" I asked twice, maybe thrice.
And this infinitely patient, surrealistically serene Spa attendant/goddess repeats, "Yes."
Not giving up, I try, "Do you take a stand-by list, in case of cancellations?"
I don't think this possibility ever ran past her mind. She paused and replied, "No."
"So it's all full?"
"Yes." Then she added, "Well, unless you want to come on a port day."
"You have sessions in port?"
"Yes."
Out of the question. We were 60 days booked for the excursions on St. Maarten and St. Thomas, and Castaway Cay sounded too precious to miss any minute ashore there.
"We have an opening," she went on, "for four o'clock on Wednesday."
DW says no, no, no, can't do that, we're going to St. John that day.
And I ask, Doesn't the ship leave St. Thomas at sixteen-thirty? The goddess looks at me and I repeat, At four-thirty?, Don't we leave port at four-thirty?
Yes.
That's it!, I say to DW. We have to back on the ship by sixteen hundred. That should work fine! (As long as we aren't baked red in the sun, I think to remind DW on that day. You know, rubbing mud all over sun-burned skin...)
So we took the four o'clock. Missions accomplished! The cruise was not to be a disaster after all!
Now, fast-forwarding to Wednesday. On the boat ride over to St. John, I plastered so much suntan lotion all over me and DW (and DS's of course) that DW was protesting, "All right already! Enough with all the lotion!"
"Don't want to get burned," I say, not bothering to make the connection with the day's further events.
There was plenty of time to get to the Spa by four. The 5-Star Snorkel, as you might know, was back to the "Magic" in time for lunch. There was time for the taxi to the mountain top, and plenty of time to be early for our precious appointment.
There at the counter at the entrance to the Spa, waiting just for us, was the same goddess who had signed us up four days before. And saying it as if I said it routinely, I answer, "We're here for the Surial Bath," pronouncing it correctly, which I learned over these message boards, saying it not as "sur - real" as I was want to do, but, having been corrected, saying it, "sur - y'all"
And at that moment it dawned on me that maybe I was the correct one, that maybe I had the pronunciation correct: this whole event was surreal. This goddess was certainly surreal. I was so sure that I had seen her or some other members of her serene race on one of the original Star Trek series. She couldn't have been of our human race. She emanated too much peace and contentment.
Then again, maybe she was human. Maybe she did the Surial Bath every morning with her DSO (do we have this abbreviation for significant other?).
She presents both DW & yours truly with a neatly folded white cotton robe. She explains that we can change in our respective areas, and then when our time is ready, she will bring us to the inner sanctum.
I'll be darned if I was to sit in the lobby in wait - in the white robe - so I ask her if we can wait in the Rain Forest.
We may, she grants.
And that's what we did. I showered and changed and went to the Rain Forest. I told you about many reports ago. And there I was sitting in that warm, tiled chaise lounge (remember me in the photo in the brochure?...), when our goddess appears at the door. She didn't come into the Rain Forest; she just appeared inside the glass door. I didn't hear her voice - I think she telepathically told me that the time had arrived, for suddenly I thought to come out of my stupor and look towards the door. There she stood, waiting, serenely of course, her hands folded close to her chest.
Are you looking for me?, I ask. An absurd question, really, since the only other humans (remember?) was the very absent couple in two of the other chaises. And (remember?) I was sure they'd just had the Surial Bath. The goddess nods.
DW had just appeared at the door as well. We file in line behind our leader and our procession moves silently down the hall. The goddess opens the door to the sanctum. She extends her arm towards the opening, her palm upwards, showing us to enter.
Oh the reverence was overpowering!
To realize that we were actually at the place! This was the Surial Bath! We were really here!
How many millions of TV viewers across the USA have watched that ad with the woman in the elevator, with the baby carriage, who's telling friends in this elevator what a great time her family had on the Disney cruise ship (more than 9 months prior), when her daughter standing next to the carriage looks down into the carriage and embarrasses her mother by saying...Well, you know the ad.
But to realize that all those millions of Americans are hearing about this room, this room that at that moment had only me and DW and DG (Disney Goddess...??) - oh how momentous!
...to be continued. Steve
You people who are encouraging me to go on are too flattering. I wasn't going to bother this forum with more of my ramblings - there are just so many other people telling so many good tales - I thought I'd taken up enough space already.
But if you insist...
Besides, I must correct "Kellyb2000": no, I did not dock the ship. (...maybe I can give you a hint, though...)
Okay. The Surial Bath. Isn't a vacation supposed to take a person out of their everyday, run-of-the-mill existence? On vacation, isn't one supposed to do the things they wouldn't ordinarily do? I think so.
What I do know is that I don't very often meet with my DW sans apparel - sans anything! - to slur mud all over each other. I don't recall ever doing this with her. Come to think of it, I don't recall doing this with anyone (if she reads this, I'm dead).
So prior to our voyage, after reading so many messages about the Surial Bath and that it is a "must do", we decided it would be a "must do" for us, too. On that first day aboard ship, I thought I was so prepared. If you've read all my other ramblings, you might remember that I reserved exactly what I wanted at Palo's (being first in line). Having been told that the Spa was not ready to take reservations until - oh, I can't remember, maybe two o'clock - I relaxed at Topsiders, in total bliss - and proceeded to completely forget to go to the Spa by opening time.
By the time I remembered, their doors had been open an hour or two. DW and I rushed forward to make our appointments.
There were no lines in the Spa. We were offered and declined a tour. We were stopped by the Personal Trainer, who tempted us with her services. Finally we reached the sign-up table for the Spa offerings. Again, no line here.
Alas, the Surial Bath was booked full. Good thing there was no line behind us. DW & I would have shuffled away dumb-founded. As it was, we lingered at the sign-up table, where I stupidly could not accept that what I had so wanted to do was now not an option.
"The Surial Bath is full?" I asked twice, maybe thrice.
And this infinitely patient, surrealistically serene Spa attendant/goddess repeats, "Yes."
Not giving up, I try, "Do you take a stand-by list, in case of cancellations?"
I don't think this possibility ever ran past her mind. She paused and replied, "No."
"So it's all full?"
"Yes." Then she added, "Well, unless you want to come on a port day."
"You have sessions in port?"
"Yes."
Out of the question. We were 60 days booked for the excursions on St. Maarten and St. Thomas, and Castaway Cay sounded too precious to miss any minute ashore there.
"We have an opening," she went on, "for four o'clock on Wednesday."
DW says no, no, no, can't do that, we're going to St. John that day.
And I ask, Doesn't the ship leave St. Thomas at sixteen-thirty? The goddess looks at me and I repeat, At four-thirty?, Don't we leave port at four-thirty?
Yes.
That's it!, I say to DW. We have to back on the ship by sixteen hundred. That should work fine! (As long as we aren't baked red in the sun, I think to remind DW on that day. You know, rubbing mud all over sun-burned skin...)
So we took the four o'clock. Missions accomplished! The cruise was not to be a disaster after all!
Now, fast-forwarding to Wednesday. On the boat ride over to St. John, I plastered so much suntan lotion all over me and DW (and DS's of course) that DW was protesting, "All right already! Enough with all the lotion!"
"Don't want to get burned," I say, not bothering to make the connection with the day's further events.
There was plenty of time to get to the Spa by four. The 5-Star Snorkel, as you might know, was back to the "Magic" in time for lunch. There was time for the taxi to the mountain top, and plenty of time to be early for our precious appointment.
There at the counter at the entrance to the Spa, waiting just for us, was the same goddess who had signed us up four days before. And saying it as if I said it routinely, I answer, "We're here for the Surial Bath," pronouncing it correctly, which I learned over these message boards, saying it not as "sur - real" as I was want to do, but, having been corrected, saying it, "sur - y'all"
And at that moment it dawned on me that maybe I was the correct one, that maybe I had the pronunciation correct: this whole event was surreal. This goddess was certainly surreal. I was so sure that I had seen her or some other members of her serene race on one of the original Star Trek series. She couldn't have been of our human race. She emanated too much peace and contentment.
Then again, maybe she was human. Maybe she did the Surial Bath every morning with her DSO (do we have this abbreviation for significant other?).
She presents both DW & yours truly with a neatly folded white cotton robe. She explains that we can change in our respective areas, and then when our time is ready, she will bring us to the inner sanctum.
I'll be darned if I was to sit in the lobby in wait - in the white robe - so I ask her if we can wait in the Rain Forest.
We may, she grants.
And that's what we did. I showered and changed and went to the Rain Forest. I told you about many reports ago. And there I was sitting in that warm, tiled chaise lounge (remember me in the photo in the brochure?...), when our goddess appears at the door. She didn't come into the Rain Forest; she just appeared inside the glass door. I didn't hear her voice - I think she telepathically told me that the time had arrived, for suddenly I thought to come out of my stupor and look towards the door. There she stood, waiting, serenely of course, her hands folded close to her chest.
Are you looking for me?, I ask. An absurd question, really, since the only other humans (remember?) was the very absent couple in two of the other chaises. And (remember?) I was sure they'd just had the Surial Bath. The goddess nods.
DW had just appeared at the door as well. We file in line behind our leader and our procession moves silently down the hall. The goddess opens the door to the sanctum. She extends her arm towards the opening, her palm upwards, showing us to enter.
Oh the reverence was overpowering!
To realize that we were actually at the place! This was the Surial Bath! We were really here!
How many millions of TV viewers across the USA have watched that ad with the woman in the elevator, with the baby carriage, who's telling friends in this elevator what a great time her family had on the Disney cruise ship (more than 9 months prior), when her daughter standing next to the carriage looks down into the carriage and embarrasses her mother by saying...Well, you know the ad.
But to realize that all those millions of Americans are hearing about this room, this room that at that moment had only me and DW and DG (Disney Goddess...??) - oh how momentous!
...to be continued. Steve
