From Queen Mumsie to the Queen Mary....

I always hate this bit.

Today was the day to take Mumsie to the airport and send her off on her long journey back to Northern Cyprus.  3 months seems to have gone by in a flash, especially the last month where I've been back and forward between NYC and SF so much.  I counted the number of flights I've done since the start of the year - FIFTEEN since Jan 2nd!!  Completely bonkers.  Last week marked the end of a particularly heroic spate of commuting (I flew across the country and back in time, four years - more on that in another post), so I decided to make the most of going to LA and tack on an extra couple of days in Long Beach.

Earlier on in the day, Mumsie and I had stuffed my Equinox full of her cargo...umm... I mean, luggage and headed off to SFO, for our flight to LAX.  Fortunately all the crazy travel and my 1K status with United had paid off with a free upgrade to First class on the short flight.  More importantly, it also meant a free baggage allowance of up to 3 bags of 70lb per person, so at least Mumsie didn't have to pay extra on this leg of the trip (with Turkish airlines, even in business class, you only get 2 bags - each extra bag is an additional $150 each - a total of $300 in excess baggage fees - ouch!).  The flight from SFO to LAX was very smooth (unlike my last flight back from NYC which was a white-knuckler for about 15 mins because of baaaaad turbulence - AND STILL PEOPLE WERE GETTING UP FROM THEIR SEAT TO GO TO THE LOO!!  WTF?!!!).    Mumsie also had invested in a couple of new suitcases (yey for Costco!) that actually wheeled properly (unlike one of her old ones that had it out for me and used to try and take chunks out of my ankles at regular intervals), so it was easy peasy to get the  cases onto a trolley and head out to the transfer bus to the international terminal.  This is usually the Most Stressful Part of the whole procedure - getting the bags off the luggage cart, loaded onto the racks in the transfer bus, then doing the opposite upon arriving at the International Terminal.  The bags are heavy, there's always too many people and not enough space, it feels like it takes ages and people are impatient to get going, no-one helps you and its just generally rushed and pissy.  This time, however, we had a savior - the bus driver was actually helpful and helped us on and off the bus with our bags.  Easy.  Just like that.  Plus there was a luggage cart sitting waiting, so i didnt have to go wrestle with the SmartCart machine for once ($5 for a cart at LAX - and you're never quite sure if its actually going to give it to you - i'm sure that thing is sentient and deliberately f*cks with your head).

Anyway, most stressful part over and all we had to do was get Mumsie checked in at Turkish Airlines and she'd be on her way.  Being the hyper-cautious, Don't Miss This Connection or It'll Be a Nightmare travelers that we are, we had arrived ridiculously early - so much so that the counter wasn't even open yet.  But time is very easily spent in an airport, having coffee, reading, doing a little shopping... so much so that you have to actually remind yourself why you are there in the first place!   So, after a couple of hours, it was time to check-in, so that was all fine - i wasn't picking up my rental car til 4pm, so we had time to get lunch before then all that was left to do was to sadly walk back downstairs, over to the departure gate, give Mumsie a HUGE hug and wave her off through the security checkpoint.  As always, its a really sad moment, but one that is inevitable and necessary so we don't draw it out but say our goodbyes and get on our way.

And for me, as a reward for surviving my crazy-assed schedule since the New Year (and to provide all you blog-starved folk with some well overdue blog fodder (blodder?)), I had a date with the Queen to keep.  Now, I can't remember where I'd seen this advertised but a while ago I'd found out about the Queen Mary Hotel, moored up in Long Beach, and so added it to my mental rolodex of Cool Stuff to Do and Blog About.   Here's the link to their website:  http://queenmary.com/stay-aboard/deluxe-stateroom.php.   Completely brilliant.  And, when i'd logged on to check out prices, I was pleasantly surprised how affordable it was, so i went for a Deluxe King Stateroom, facing out across the bay, looking over to the lights of Long Beach.  Two nights, to take advantage of the holiday weekend, before then heading home on Tuesday, to reacquaint myself with all my household appliances and stare at my kettle wondering why it hasn't boiled yet.  ("Oh.  You mean I have to turn it on now?  I used to have people for that...." *sighs wistfully* *wonders why is talking to cat*)

Obviously, because of my ghostly adventure with Lori aboard the USS Hornet, I was already somewhat of a nautical know-it-all, so i was looking forward to exploring the ship and staying in slightly more luxurious surroundings this time.  It was only a short drive from LAX to Long Beach in my bright blue Dodge muscle car (YEAH!) so, before I knew it, I was pulling up to the ship.

Holy cow.  What an impressive sight.

She may be an old Queen (there's a tasteless joke in there somewhere) but she is still absolutely beautiful.   And ENORMOUS!   I'd arrived just after 5pm, so the light was starting to fade a bit and, as the sun went down, all the lights on the ship came up, so she was truly stunning, lit up and festooned in red and white lights, all along the length of the deck.  I (eventually) found the entrance and took the lift up to the 3rd floor to check-in - I had stumbled onto the tail-end of ScotsFest - a 2 day festival of all things Scottish, including bagpipes, Highland Games and food (more on that later), and so it was absolutely heaving!  So it took a while to check in but I didnt mind - it was fun to be there and soak in all the details of the ship, and to imagine what it looked like back in the 30's when it was the only civilized way to travel.  It was faded in its elegance and a little worn around the edges, but it didn't take much imagination to picture the passengers from years past, when people still dressed up to travel and it was absolutely still a luxury, rather than simply a means of getting from A to B as quickly as possible.

Scalloped art-deco glass light fitting in my room

I finally got my keys - stateroom 157 on Deck A, which was about halfway down the very long corridor.  It was just as you'd imagine it to be - beautiful Art Deco styling, gorgeously polished wood, richly colored crazy patterned carpet - and just a little bit spooky.  As it has that faded glamor about it, it makes you feel nostalgic, curious, patriotic, sad and a bit weirded out all at once.  An interesting mix.  It was less spooky than the Hornet, but i was half expecting to see a kid on a trike turn the corner at any moment.  Imagine the mind-tricks you could play on people with that.  Note to self: never stay at old places with long corridors on April Fools Day....  Anyway, I finally found my room (and already changed from my heels to my flats) - it was smaller than I was expecting, but it was still absolutely charming and full of interesting period details.  And - the best bit of all - it had portholes that actually opened!!  Bloody brilliant.  That, more than anything, took you in your mind to the Atlantic and to imagining what it must have been like to look through those windows and see nothing but the Atlantic Ocean, as far as the eye could see.  It reminded me a bit of the feeling from when I went to Patagonia - a similar sense of all-surrounding desolation and vastness.

Corridor just begging for a small kid on a trike....

And another set of deco-tastic lights!

Fancy-pants embroidered shower curtain

Hot AND Fresh?  Now, that's my kinda shower....

Evening stroll along the deck

After checking out my room, I decided to wander round the ship for a bit to start to get my bearings and to visit the bar for a gin and tonic.  My selection of venue was a bit hit and miss - basically, wherever I could manage to find (this place is big) that wasnt completely ram-packed because of ScotFest.  I ended up having a drink first in the Chelsea Chowder House before then deciding to brave the apparent chaos of the Observation Bar, the original Art Deco Lounge.

That's when things started getting interesting.

Bagpipes smackdown in the OB

It started off, as all these things generally tend to do, quietly enough - despite the bar being really busy, i'd lucked out as there was a table and couple of chairs free, right near the bar, so i decided to perch for a while and soak up the atmosphere for a bit.  What i didnt realize, but quickly became apparent, was that i'd unwittingly walked into a bagpipe-playing contest!  The tail-end of Scotsfest was obviously wrapping up in the Observation Bar, with many chaps (and one girl) in kilts taking turns to play the heart out of their little fingers and lungs, and rock the house with some kicking pipes and drum tunes!  It was absolutely fantastic!!  And i had a ringside seat!  I didn't stay solo at my table for long - I had also happened to sit amongst a big gang of pipers and so i sort of got absorbed into their crowd!  They were a blast - really friendly and funny, especially my new best chum, a chap called Pete.  He was hilarious - a Brit who flies out to play with the LA Pipes (apparently one of the top ten pipe bands in the world) but who works at Canon for the day job.  So it was fun to hang out with him and his friends, and listen to some kick-ass music.  I especially loved the big bass drum - wow.  When that things is going, it resonates deep within you - its very cool indeed.

"....And i still haven't found the lyrics that i'm looking for..."

A few *ahem* gin and tonics later, and i was singing along to some of the songs the main guy was playing (as well as an accomplished piper, he was also a great singer and played a mean guitar), so my new best friends took it upon themselves to suggest to the  main guy i should come up and sing with him.  I'd told them that i could sing Moondance (my go-to song of choice) so assumed, when the guy called me up, that he knew it too.   But no.  He knew the song but couldn't play it, so instead said to me "what do you want to sing instead?".   While on stage with everyone looking at us.  And the only bloody thing that I could think of was U2's "Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For".  Which I don't know how to sing and don't even know all the words too.  But i know how the chorus goes so offered to harmonize that and - in the end - I don't think it was too terrible and the shambolic nature of our musical offering seemed to be in keeping with the general disassembly of the evening, so i dont think anyone particularly minded.  By that point, I think most people were so shit-faced, I dont think anyone would have actually noticed if it had been Bono himself onstage.

My new mate, Pete

So that was fun.

And, as i went back to take my seat, thoughts of me dressed in a reindeer suit singing with the choir at Macy's in the Holiday Village crossed my mind and i wondered how i keep getting myself into these situations...  After a while longer, it was midnight, so it was time to bid my new Scottish buddies farewell, and try and find my way back to my cabin.  It took a couple of attempts (it wasnt just the Hendricks - it is VERY easy to get lost!  Mumsie - you'd be freaking out!) but I made it and gratefully flopped into bed.  A very fun evening - all the more so for being completely unexpected!!

"I would like... World Peace"
"And another Hendricks and tonic, please"