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Venice of the North? -- Long Review

diann744

By diann744,
in Holland America Line

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diann744

diann744

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WARNINGS: Pre and Post Cruise Information. Adult Content: Alcohol & (Prescription) Drug Use; Mild Language; Violence; Airline Bashing. Rating: PG-13. You've been warned.

 

 

For as long as I can remember, I have craved cold, dark, rainy climes. I will seek out the one patch of shade on a sunny plain. I plan my errands to avoid open sunlight even if it means travelling miles in the wrong direction. I would wear sunglasses indoors and at night if it weren’t cause for commitment in 38 states. I avoid the sun as aggressively as any vampire.

 

So imagine my displeasure when this latest trip proved what I have so long feared. I am a Sun Goddess. It loves me. It follows me.

 

The Evil Twin, BIL and I left our homes for LAX to begin our Northern European adventure only to find that our evening flight to Heathrow was delayed because a pilot called in sick. We took off about four hours late after being told we would have to divert to NY to pick up a new crew and refuel. If we’d known we’d go through NY, we’d have flown out of Burbank, saving ourselves the agony that is LAX.

 

Once in NY, we were promised it would take no time at all. Apparently, this is airline speak for “cool your jets.” Another two and a half hours on the tarmac in the plane meant we wouldn’t be seeing Amsterdam that night.

 

Once in London we were sent off to an airport hotel with vouchers for dinner and breakfast, which was great as we all agreed we’d much rather have a couple of buffet meals at an airport hotel than actually explore Amsterdam and sleep in the hotel we’d already paid for. Our joy was short lived however as we got to the hotel after the restaurant closed and needed to leave before it opened in the morning. This allowed us to have breakfast at Heathrow, which is another thing I can cross off my bucket list.

 

We booked the Conscious Hotel Museum Square in Amsterdam as a placeholder in hopes of finding something better before our trip to that city where we planned to spend two nights, now only one, before joining the cruise. It was so much less expensive than anything else in the area, we figured it must be less than ideal but since we planned to keep shopping, it was enough to know we had something in a pinch.

 

Naturally, we didn't get around to finding anything better and I couldn't be happier about that.

 

The lobby was the first clue that this was something special. The full wall of foliage that we thought from the website was wallpaper, was not. The whole place was fanatically clean, unique enough that I know we'll never forget it and completely green (the desks in the rooms are made from recycled yogurt containers!)

 

Amsterdam itself was worth the 30+ hour travel day that preceded it. For those who don’t know, everyone in Europe rides a bicycle. At 90 miles an hour. In Amsterdam, they have sex, smoke pot and talk on their cell phones while riding bicycles. At 90 miles an hour. This may be a real treat for them but it's a bit dodgy for the tourists who have no idea what the rules are and are in constant danger of being run down by stoned, oversexed, chatty cyclists.

 

In the interest of safety, we decided that our best bet was to get off the streets. We grabbed a canal boat tour where we learned why Amsterdam is known as the “Venice of the North” and then set off for the Red Light District. I had heard about the prostitutes in the windows but somehow pictured women sitting coquettishly on balconies smiling down at passersby. I wasn’t prepared for the underwear clad women standing provocatively in neon rimmed display case windows actively soliciting customers. The ladies of the night in my hometown of beautiful downtown North Hollywood could learn a thing or two about effective marketing.

 

And, in one of the stranger vacation moments, Sis got yelled at by one of the working women. We were walking by when apparently, someone took a picture and she came flying out of her display case and began berating the twin. None of us had snapped a photo but – word to the wise – that must be a no-no.

 

Next morning we made our way to Rotterdam and onto the ship at last. This was (aptly enough) the Rotterdam, the ship that had taken us through the Canal last year when it was right out of drydock and decidedly not yet seaworthy. We knew though, that the drydock problems would have been temporary and that we’d be in for a fabulous ride.

 

We made our way to our cabins on the Dolphin Deck which had been assigned a few weeks prior to sailing and encountered the first problem. Our keycards didn’t work. Sis and I were content to run up to the desk but BIL, in what threatened to be a prelude to a big family fight (there’s always one on every trip!), insisted on flagging down a passing cabin steward and obtaining entrance.

 

By this time, the Evil Twin and I were waiting for the elevator up to the Front Desk and happened to glance at our paperwork only to discover that the Upgrade Fairy had paid a visit. Instead of obstructed rooms we ended up with unobstructed several floors up and central.

 

By this time, BIL had joined us in the elevator bay, sans carry-on bag which necessitated flagging down another cabin steward to help us retrieve said baggage. Apparently, even evidence that the room was occupied (other people’s clothes and luggage) did not deter the twin’s better half from dropping his things off. Hopefully, the rightful tenants never knew of the breach.

 

The second piece of good news was that the Piano Bar was manned by Piano Man Lee who had been the highlight of one of our Pacific Coastal trips. Lee is a master of his craft and if you get a chance to sail with him, lay claim to a bar stool early in the cruise and then tell everyone you meet how bad he is so no one will try to steal it from you. We couldn’t get a seat at the Piano the first night, but we planned to keep moving closer even if we had to use smoke and mirrors to do it.

 

The first sea day we went to the CC meet and greet and met some wonderful people, most of whom we secretly hated because they were lucky enough to have been on the ship since Ft. Lauderdale. The Captain came by (who Sis claims looks like Chris McDonald, whoever he is) as did Dan, the Cruise Director, who it turns out, lives practically in walking distance of me and the twin. There was a raffle for a box of Chardonnay and, although we didn’t win it, we somehow ended up with it (and no, there was no pushing or shoving involved). So, it’s day two and we’re three for three – Upgrade Fairy, Piano Man Lee and free Chardonnay!

 

We also signed up for a wine tasting that day which is something we’ve never done before. I mean, we’ve tasted; believe me, we’ve tasted! Just not in a formal setting at sea. We were seated with a lovely Dutch couple and Sean, the cellermaster, talked us through six different wines (all priced to own) and accompanied by marvelous cheeses and snacks. He also earned our respect when he announced that there were no spit buckets on the table because the Irish consider spitting out wine to be alcohol abuse. Another reason I’m proud to be Irish.

 

It was during the tasting that I learned that the evil twin may be losing her hearing. While we still are unsure what word I actually uttered, what Sis thought she heard as I put down my glass after tasting the second red wine was one word and one word only: JAM. Thinking I had proclaimed this particular vintage as something that would be better spread on a bagel, she began giggling as no person of her advanced years should ever do. Her giggles set me off and I’m sure security was on standby. Still, no lovely Dutch people where permanently harmed although they did give us a rather wide berth for the remainder of the cruise.

 

The tasting was lots of fun and obviously it served its purpose because we signed up for a wine package for the dining room, as well as for the second wine tasting to be held on the next sea day.

 

Dinner that night (and every night) was wonderful with the combined attentions of Aryana, Dharma & Hardi ensuring that we ate and drank in fine style.

 

We had the late seating and so missed Lee’s first set each night. This night, we sat at the banquettes for the second round and made it to bar stools by the third and sang and chair danced with abandon. Many of the Piano Bar regulars had been on since Florida but we were welcomed and settled in for what was to be one of our favorite parts of the onboard experience.

 

Our first stop was Copenhagen. We’d been before but missed Tivoli due to an epic family fight that involved free hotel porn and a Burger King Whopper sandwich (details not to be released until all involved parties are deceased).

 

This time, we were going to see Tivoli. The tour guide mentioned that it was the hottest day of the year and weren’t we lucky to get such wonderful weather while visiting the city that has been dubbed the “Venice of the North”? No comment.

 

Now for an admission that may save someone some grief. We didn’t have krona. We’re not arrogant enough to assume that everyone will take dollars, especially not in these economic times, but we did think a wallet full of credit cards would serve us well. Not always the case.

 

We were so ready for some adult beverages that we even attempted, as a last resort, the Hard Rock, only to find that the entrance that was inside Tivoli was closed for maintenance and we didn’t have the krona to pay for an in/out pass. Since our tour guide made it clear we were to meet inside the front entrance, we couldn’t even risk it. Note to self – always have some local currency!

 

Back on the ship we had a lovely dinner and joined our new friends at the Piano Bar. By this time we had made friends with the couple who sat in Seats 1 & 2. They made Lee’s first set each night and stayed in their seats until we showed up and then relinquished them to us. When Lee commented on it later in the cruise, the Twin explained that Seats 1 & 2 were timeshares.

 

Next was Berlin. This was billed as a 13 hour shore excursion and I was displeased to note that it was, oh, a tad on the warm side. 35 Celsius, which I think equates to 145 Fahrenheit. We walked off the ship and found, to our surprise, that the train had pulled up directly across from the ship. It was a tiny little toy train that looked like something that would star in a children’s book.

 

“This is convenient”, we thought. Until we were all shuttled onto the train, which had no air-conditioning, and we started out at, oh, 10 miles an hour. Seriously, stoned, oversexed, chatty bicyclists were passing us. I thought, “at this rate, it’ll be snowing by the time we get to Berlin. And won’t that be welcome. To everyone’s relief, we soon stopped and they swapped the diesel engine for an electric one.

 

Which promptly blew a fuse. 45 minutes in a closed up tube, in direct sunlight, at the beginning of a 13 hour day. During what the tour guide told us was the hottest day in a decade. Oh goody.

 

But we were eventually on our way and Berlin was well worth seeing. We went to the remnants of the Berlin Wall, the Holocaust Museum, Hitler’s Bunker, the Burned Books Memorial, Brandenburg Gate and Checkpoint Charlie (which unfortunately you can’t get a decent picture of without the American Embassy -- McDonald’s -- in the background.)

 

On the way home, back on the extremely hot train, it began to rain. One of those rains that only serve to make things hotter. The train staff came by to close the windows which garnered several protests but we were told that the water coming in and wetting the floor of the train was a hazard and we must keep the windows closed. Said windows fogged up within minutes and it was sweltering. Most of the people in the car were soon up at the cracked open windows sucking air through straws.

 

Beer is a considered a soft drink in these parts and now I know why.

 

Once back on the ship, we cleaned up and headed for dinner which was wonderful as usual. Lee played a great set and we sang in our sleep all night long.

 

Our second sea day was here and it was welcome. We slept late, but not too late that we missed breakfast. We were looking forward to a day of rest before gearing up for the next round of racing around.

 

We booked the wine tasting and this one was held in the Pinnacle. Of those who had pre-booked, we were the last to show up and were seated at a table for four. Just before Sean was about to start, two walk-ins showed up and we were joined by Rochelle (our CC M&G hostess) and her aunt Sharon. Lovely!

 

This tasting was a bit different from the first, featuring more upscale wines and while the food pairings for the first were old friends like cheese and chocolate, this one catered to a more sophisticated palate and included pate, shrimp, gravlax and the like. The evil twin couldn’t even pretend to look at her plate without shuddering but I was determined to get the full experience. I’m not sure I’ll ever be a pate fan (too much forced liverwurst as a child, perhaps) but I gave it a good go.

 

Sean offered a bottle of very nice champagne (I’m afraid I forget the name) for anyone who came within 10% of the answer to the question: “how many bubbles in a bottle of champagne?” He claimed that he’d offered this challenge at each and every one of these tastings for years and had yet to part with a bottle.

 

He went around the room, starting with our table and the Evil Sibling was the first ever winner. And not just within the margin of error – she nailed it.

This was not the only evidence of the twin’s luck this trip. Later in the day she won $200 in the casino. And I’m happy for her. I am. Really. But I’m still younger and prettier.

 

Dinner that night was wonderful and the Piano Bar was a welcoming, comfortable place to end the day. The regulars were all fast friends by now and we were often joined by entertainers from the crew shows and headliner Clem Curtis of the Foundations who graced us with many songs. There were also several guests who got up and sang for us, some in Dutch, which was a drag since we couldn’t sing along but we chair danced all the more enthusiastically.

 

The next day was Tallinn and this is one I was really looking forward to. And not only because we were finally in Euro country and we actually had those. Tallinn is absolutely beautiful. Our tour took us on a short drive past some local monuments (Tall Hermann & Fat Margaret) and then on a walking tour of Old Town before the short trek to Rocca al Mare which is an open air museum of old style buildings and crafts markets.

 

Now generally, we pay strict attention to the number of walking people for each tour. You know, the little icon next to each Shorex? – one walking person means you basically see it from the bus, two walking people, you’re gonna stretch your legs a bit, three walking people and it better be a sea day tomorrow and four walking people, fuhgeddaboudit.

 

On this trip, we’d booked several four walking people tours because, let’s face it, we’re not going all the way to Berlin and St. Petersburg and not see everything we can, right? But Tallinn was a two walking person tour so I felt safe enough wearing a skirt and short boots. No one told me the entire country is paved with cobblestone. Ouch.

 

Still, a lovely day, even if the temperatures required updating the almanac. At least it wasn’t “Venice of the North”.

 

There was free wifi on the pier and a pretty serious local craft market set up under tents which we meandered through on our way back. I don’t think we bought anything because most of the wares tended to be scarves, sweaters and other knitted items that I couldn’t even fathom carrying, much less wearing when the mercury was soaring as it was. But we stopped for a drink at one of the tents and pulled out the iPad to check email without paying HAL’s crazy fees.

 

Now, before you think that was a slam against HAL, let me tell you what happened next. There was another ship docked just across from the Rotterdam and both were boarding at the same time. Did I mention, it was a record breaking hot day? Well, the HAL ship had a receiving line of officers greeting passengers AND a group of crew members handing out cold towels to refresh returning guests.

 

Sis and I practically made love to those cold towels, all the while eyeing the envious, sweltering folks boarding their obviously inferior cruise ship across the way! They had HAL-envy, every single one of them. And boy, did we milk it!

 

I’ll stop talking about evenings back on the ship. Suffice it to say, dinner is always wonderful and Lee at the Piano sends us to bed happy.

 

A side note about manners. Thinking back on past travels, I can only recall one other trip where I saw, and experienced, people behaving so badly. That was a Central European trip to Hungary (“I’m sorry I bumped into you, please don’t glare at me”), the Czech Republic (“I’m sorry I bumped into you, please don’t yell at me”), and Austria (I’m sorry I bumped into you, please don’t kill me”).

 

On this trip, I was routinely bumped, nudged, manhandled, elbowed, shoved out of the way and cut in front of. And not just on shore but on the ship as well. In light of this, I was a little worried about St. Petersburg. Not so much because it’s Russia, but because it’s a crowded city and there were ten or more cruise ships in at the time and we were warned that all of the places we were visiting would be packed.

 

And then, from the moment we got on the tour bus, our guide, Uta, drummed it into our heads that we were not safe. Apparently everyone on the streets was conspiring to rob us of our passports and she stressed that nothing kept in a pocket or purse belonged to us. We were told to actually leave our passports in the bus which goes against every grain of common sense I thought I had. Seriously, you expect me to walk around Russia without my passport on me? But she scared us so much that most of us complied.

 

Immediately after scaring the pants off us, quite unnecessarily, it turns out, she mentioned that St. Petersburg, the “Venice of the North,” generally gets only 30 sunny days per year, many of them in the freezing winter, and weren’t we lucky that we were going to get two of them, and in summer to boot? She also pointed out that all the ambulance traffic was due to the older folks dropping like flies because of the record breaking heat.

 

We were told that our first stop, which was a typical tourist trap selling a lot of Russian trinkets most likely made in China, would have an ATM and would accept dollars/euros and give change in rubles. This was great because the ship’s desk sold all currencies for the countries we would be visiting – except rubles – and we didn’t want a repeat of the Copenhagen debacle.

 

Unfortunately, none of her promises panned out. We could buy nothing at the first stop because we did not have the coin of the realm. The only thing we actually wanted was water and they were out of that anyway but still, it’s a very disconcerting feeling to be completely without the means to make even a small purchase.

 

Our second stop was a large mall that looked exactly like every large mall I’ve ever seen and we found a chain sandwich shop that took credit cards and managed to get our first alcoholic beverage of the day. Lovin’ Mother Russia!

 

Next stop was the much anticipated visit to the Metro. The Metro visit was clearly the one Uta was most worried about and she whipped us all into a state of mild panic. Once on the platform, she corralled the group along a length of what would be two car’s worth, instructed us to let the next train pass but admonished us to watch carefully to see how it was done.

 

Stepping onto a train? I was pretty sure that having grown up in NYC, I could handle the pressure but could only assume there was some unknown issue raising the difficulty level. Was the third rail actually right there on the platform? Were the train cars themselves zero gravity? Perhaps you had to pole vault over an abyss to enter the train?

 

But our train came, we entered (trying to drown out her fevered screams of “Faster, faster! Hurry! Stay together! Get ready, doors close in 10 seconds!” We rode two stops, in relative comfort and with no obvious threats to life or limb that I could see and then exited the train, again trying to drown out her panicked cries. Bottom line – if you’ve ever ridden on a subway before, or are prone to high blood pressure when yelled at, feel free to skip this one.

 

On our second day in St. Petersburg , one woman on the bus insisted that we visit the Church of the Spilled Blood, even though that had been done the day before. She repeatedly swore that her bus tour skipped that stop. No matter how many times Uta explained (yes, we got her two days in a row) that she couldn’t put the whole tour behind schedule, this woman was adamant. Eventually, Uta acquiesced and the whole bus was delayed while this one woman, who likely had simply run out of film the day before, got her photo op. A majority of one, as the Sis says.

 

We saw many, many policemen pulling cars over and someone asked the guide about it. She explained that if the police accuse you of a crime, real or imagined, you pay them off. If that’s the case, the police make a nice living indeed.

 

Many of the palaces we visited required the large group of people to move from room to room which meant that a mob twelve people wide had to compress to pass through a door that would only accommodate two at a time. Not exactly rocket science. Worst case scenario is that the merging separates you from your peeps for 20 seconds or so. On this day, people moved me out of the way by placing hands on both my shoulders and literally shoving me to the side.

Sis and I soon found ourselves at the very back of every tour, simply to avoid being manhandled.

 

But again, that wasn’t a Russia issue, we were all tourists after all. It just seemed to be the dynamic on this trip.

 

Over the course of the two days we visited Catherine’s Palace, Peter & Paul Fortress, Pushkin, the Palace of the spilled Blood and others. Our last stop, Peterhof, was the most painful of all. Don’t get me wrong, it was gorgeous. Problem was, it was 4,000 degrees and all we wanted was a cold drink. We wandered down to the waterway where we would eventually be meeting our group for the hydrofoil back to the city and found many cute bars and restaurants. Just what the doctor ordered!

 

Except, we had no rubles. No wine. No burgers. No beer. No chicken wings. No wine. This brought a whole new meaning to the term “your money’s no good here.” BIL spotted some folks from our ship and suggested we buy some rubles from them. Black market currency dealings in Russia while we aren’t even holding passports? I think not!

 

Back on the ship, sail away was delayed a bit as the driver of bus 20 had to negotiate a bribe with a policeman who said he was illegally parked. Happily, we heard about it while comfortably ensconced in the Ocean with bartenders Renato and Michael, enjoying our first cold chard of the long, hot day.

 

Next stop, Helsinki. Super metropolitan. And wouldn’t you know it, they were experiencing their hottest day in a century. Luckily, today’s tour was an easy one, probably one walking person and even though we planned to do more exploring on our own, the heat made us change our minds.

 

We did find a nice place to have a glass of chardonnay and even though the daily program warned that if you asked for ice, you would be “looked at askance,” we risked it and to our knowledge, no International incident ensued. But you might want to check YouTube, we’ve been on it before.

 

After walking about a bit and visiting the world’s largest department store – yes, even bigger than Harrod’s – we lined up for the shuttle back to the pier. There was another ship in town, the Azura. We were the first in line when we arrived at the shuttle stop and stood patiently while four, five, six Azura buses came and went. Apparently they had eight buses to HAL’s two but we were assured that a HAL bus was on its way.

 

By this time, the line was long and when the HAL bus did show up and parked down the street behind three waiting Azura buses, the crowd swarmed and demanded admittance. So, first in line and the only two who didn’t make the bus because it was filled with folks who showed up after us.

 

As time wore on, I found myself becoming more and more unwilling to put up with the blatant bad behavior of my fellow travelers. Normally, when faced with fight or flight decisions, I run as fast as my chubby little legs can carry me. But I was starting to feel battered and bruised indeed and feared that I was close to snapping back.

 

Our final stop was Stockholm. I joined the line at the Front Desk to buy krona, which, of course, I should have done the night before. Naturally, I wasn’t the only one to put this off to the last minute. As the Shorex folks were calling bus numbers, the crowd at the desk started morphing into a mob. I did my best to hold my ground but as I reached the front of the line, I was rudely pushed aside by a man who simply took me by the shoulders and moved me bodily out of his way. He wasn’t even close to the first person who cut in front of me but he was the first to do it so blatantly. I spoke up, all the while shaking like a leaf. When confronted, he acted like he had no idea what I was talking about and claimed that he had no idea I was in line. Why then was I then hanging out there with my elbows on the counter? Grrr.

 

But, we made our bus, a xanax took care of the leftover shakes and we were on our way to a day of fun in Stockholm. Our tour guide, David, told us he was a Doctor of Divinity who moonlighted by subbing as a tour guide. The first thing he did was count us – 43. The second thing he did was tell us that this was the hottest day since biblical times here in the “Venice of the North”.

 

Our first stop was the Vasa Museum which is a monument/tribute to a sunken ship that had been lost in the 1600s, brought back up and restored. This part of the tour was mainly for BIL, as Her Evilness and I don’t want to spend much time thinking of ill-fated ships while cruising.

 

The interior of the museum was hot and airless and we wisely decided not to huddle with the group as David moved from one exhibit to the next, extolling the key points of ancient history. David was having none of that.

 

“My 43, my 43! Gather round! You there! Move closer! My 43! Come here, COME HERE!” If you lagged behind by 10 feet, he was yelling at you, “YOU belong to me, and YOU belong to me, COME HERE, COME HERE!” Every 20 feet, he counted us and if the total didn’t equal 43, he bellowed. I finally turned to him and said, as sternly as a meek person can, “I’m on vacation! Stop yelling at me!”

 

Eventually we made our way downtown and found a lovely sidewalk café where they served adult beverages and did not yell at us. All is good in Stockholm.

Then we had a couple of sea days to wind down. The final wine tasting was all about champagne and we managed to get through it without giggling.

 

But, eventually, they kicked us off. We made our way back to Amsterdam (the Venice of the North) for another night at the Conscious Hotel and took a side trip that brought us to Volendam, which is absolutely gorgeous, if a bit artificial, and Marken where I finally broke down and bought some cheese.

 

The flight home was an exact re-enactment of the outbound experience, with the pilot calling in sick and a 35+ hour re-route through New York. Going through security at JFK, we battled a large group of people, seemingly travelling together, who were bound and determined to shove their way to the front of line.

 

The security folks saw this and repeatedly admonished them but they either didn’t speak English or had temporarily lost that ability. I was holding my own (with skills learned on the 7 train in NY) when I approached the desk with my passport held out only to have one of the women body-slam me out of the way. After two weeks of this, I was ready. The elbows came out and I think I at least winded her as she backed up enough to let me re-take my place in line.

The TSA guy winked at me.

 

So, that’s my long, long story. We’ll be doing a 4 day repositioning Coastal next month on the Westerdam but we need to make plans for the next “big one”. I’m thinking "Venice of the South". But I need to check the temperatures.

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catl331

catl331

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Loved it also! Thanks for brining up my memories of the Baltic. We were lucky in that our flight went smoothly and no one was ill-mannered. We didn't do Berlin but chose to be on our own in Rostock and Warnamunde. We loved that little fishing town.

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tcook052

tcook052

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For as long as I can remember, I have craved cold, dark, rainy climes. I will seek out the one patch of shade on a sunny plain. I plan my errands to avoid open sunlight even if it means travelling miles in the wrong direction. I would wear sunglasses indoors and at night if it weren’t cause for commitment in 38 states. I avoid the sun as aggressively as any vampire.

 

Did you say vampire? Then have I got a trip for you:

 

http://boards.cruisecritic.com/showthread.php?t=1471928

 

:D

 

Thanks for the review as it was well worth the price of admission. :)

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Sea42

Sea42

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Loved your review! Thanks for sharing.

For all of those contemplating this cruise I just wanted to mention that all of these ports with the exception of St. Petersburg are very easy to tour on your own. No need to be treated like children on a school outing!

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MrsMuir

MrsMuir

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While laughing in my cubicle at your review, I remembered another one about drinking wine at breakfast -- that must have been you, Diann. I hope we run into you and your Sis sometime at the Piano Bar. I promise not to shove you off your seat.

 

Mrs M

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northernphoenix

northernphoenix

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Not my ship, not my cruise, but that is one heck of an entertaining write-up!

 

This is my ship and it is my cruise (albeit) the last cruise of the season. We were concerned about the weather, but prefer cooler to warmer . Great review, and hope to use my newly acquired muscles to deal with any aggressive tourists.

Marilyn

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