I made a fortunate choice for my first cruise last June -- Vancouver, British Columbia to Fairbanks, Alaska. It was terrific, with exciting and fun shore excursions: flying over the mountains in a small plane, landing on a glacier for a walk, boating out to a bird-covered island. And I made a good choice of cruise line – Regent. It has a deserved reputation as being high priced and high quality.
I booked Regent again last summer for a Venice-to-Barcelona excursion with four generations of Schappis. I wasn’t too happy with that cruise; it seemed almost sacrilegious to spend day after day pretending you’ve seen Rome, Florence, and Barcelona after racing around on a bus for five hours with a guide.
That experience led me to conclude that cruises just weren’t meant for me, and that I should abandon the idea of cruising around South Amerca to escape DC's winter and visit a part of the world I'd never seen.
This morning I woke up after 6am to hear the cruise director announce we were reaching the point on Cape Horn where we would cross from the Pacific Ocean into the Atlantic. Now it’s north towards home . . . well, at least toward Buenos Aires, where I’ll spend a couple of days before heading back to Washington.