The Return of Artemis

No, I wasn't abducted. No, I wasn't in traction. No, I didn't impose a moratorium on blogging.

I was on a really big boat in the Western Caribbean for eight days. Time came to a halt, and I felt as if I had dropped off the face of the earth save a fragile thread of reality provided by my traveling companion and a sporadic cell phone signal. I wondered if it was possible to surpass the quality of the four days I recently spent with my dearest T, but I found this cruise to be just as satisfying, albeit on different levels. For those who noticed my absence, I truly appreciate your comments and concern.

I was invited to go by my closest hometown girlfriend, who received the all-expenses-paid, seven night cruise as a gift from her employers. We haven't traveled together in years, so I was very excited about the opportunity to spend time with her and visit a new place together.

This wasn't my first cruise, but it was so much more fun than my first. In 1996 I traveled across the Atlantic from London to New York on the Queen Elizabeth II for eight days. Actually, it ended up being nine days, because of a pesky Nor'Eastern that traveled tenaciously with our ship. The ship itself was a masterpiece; the food was exquisite, the wine selection impressive, and the service impeccable. Those were the only things that made me suppress my seasickness long enough to leave my cabin. I recall spending only fifteen minutes on deck during nine days.

I would like to sum up that experience by sharing a story about beautiful bone-china bowls of lovely, apricot-colored, sugary candies that I observed had been placed throughout the boat. The candies were so enticing that one evening after dinner, I picked up a few and popped them in my mouth as a post-dessert dessert, if you will. As my mouth exploded into flames, tears welled in my eyes, and my exquisite dinner and impressive wine reconsidered their positions, a steward approached my companion to inform him I had just consumed a large amount of candied ginger (which, unbeknownst to me, was placed about the ship as an anti-seasickness remedy). As the two men stifled their giggles, I croaked with my seared vocal cords to ask yon steward if it would have been too much trouble to put a card in front of the bowl to identify its contents. I immediately retired to my cabin and refused to re-emerge for twenty-four hours.

This cruise, however, was everything it should have been. I ate three or four full meals a day (unheard of for me in the States); I enjoyed a couple of glasses of wine; I slept ten to twelve hours a night (also unheard of), and basked in the sun as I melded with the universe adrift on the open sea. I forgot about every little thing at home that made me tense, and acquired no new stresses (or stressors) during my trip.

Did I commune with nature? Absolutely. Belize afforded me an unforgettable underwater experience, during which I was entranced by dragons and stars, spiders and lace. The sun warmed my body and my soul. The winds caressed and cooled my skin. The waters were crystalline blues and greens, and the travelers and natives alike were warm and welcoming.

Did I exercise? I visited the ship's gymnasium every day. We used it as a shortcut to our favorite sunning deck. Other than walking through the shopping districts, we deliberately restricted our physical activity.

Frankly, we intentionally didn't do a doggone thing on this cruise (save the snuba excursion in Belize and a brief cab ride downtown in Cozumel). We didn't see any shows on the boat. We didn't go to any parties. We didn't set alarms and the only schedule we followed was breakfast by 10:00, lunch by 2:00, and dinner at 6:00. Like two little old ladies, we were usually in bed and asleep by 8:30 or 9:00 at night. And (I know T will be aghast), we didn't even read. We just relaxed and bonded in a tropical paradise.

But what I found to be the most pleasing about this trip, and most moving, was something completely unexpected. I wrote previously about how T and I spent so much of our visit talking and waxing poetic and philosophical, until we had analyzed the universe down to a subatomic level using enough words to fill a small library. Well, S and I barely exchanged a newspaper's worth of words during this entire trip. It was really an amazing thing. We didn't talk but a smidgen at meals, though we did converse with our dinner mates frequently; we didn't talk while we sunbathed; we talked a little while we explored the shopping districts, and we held brief but thoughtful conversations before retiring for the day. By spending only a few hours of the trip apart from one another, we reminded ourselves how much we enjoy each other's company, which is merely one reason we've been girlfriends for so long.

Now deposited once again on the shores of real life, I look back on the days at sea and am grateful. Where T helped to heal my soul and spirit, S helped to heal my body and mind.

Without a doubt, I have the best friends in the whole world, and that makes me the luckiest girl in the world.