After 8,032 days it’s time for a vacation

 

For the past 8,032 days (a mere twenty-two years) I’ve not left the city where I live.  I haven’t gone anywhere, haven’t seen or experienced anything new or culturally enriching.  Life got in the way and before I could say “I need a vacation” the years passed without one.

 

Somewhere in those twenty-two years I was diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease.  So far I’m one of the lucky ones. I still get along well and don’t need any special accommodations but what I do need is some time away from real life.

 

I need to see something new, stimulate my imagination, order room service, sleep on some high thread count sheets and watch someone else’s satellite TV.

 

Earlier this year I saw my neurologist and he put a cap on how long I am allowed to be seated on an airplane – 90 minutes.  Anything more than that and I’ll get so stiff I may have a difficult time making it off the plane and down the jetway.

 

For me, a 90-minute flight means I’m stuck flying to Reno, Las Vegas, Southern California, Portland or Seattle.  None of those destinations do much for me.

 

I stewed about this new restriction and months went by before I came up with a reasonable solution – an Alaskan cruise.  I’ll admit that Alaska is not on my bucket list of places to visit but it would enable me to sail 6,140 miles away from home, visit another country and get me out of the house for 11-days.  As a bonus, I get to avoid TSA.

 

I did some research and decided to book myself on the Ruby Princess in spring 2025.  I’m sailing early in the season to (hopefully) avoid the crowds.

 

Unfortunately sailing in the spring also means that I’ll miss salmon swimming up stream, bears and eagles. Many of the shops in the towns along the way won’t be open and there’s a good chance that Glacier Bay will be fogged in the day we’re scheduled to sail through.

 

Glacier Bay, Alaska

 

I don’t care about any of that.  I need a mental health get away.  Typical of me, however, since I booked the cruise I’ve had second and third thoughts.

 

Alaska cruises typically stop at four-or-five port destinations which generally take place on consecutive days.  All of these port days require you to disembark the ship in the early morning and you can expect to return to the ship dog tired sometime in the mid-to-late afternoon.

 

Insomnia is one of the great side benefits of having Parkinson’s.  I’m a superior insomniac.  I’m generally awake all night and if I’m lucky I’ll collapse out of sheer exhaustion around five or six in the morning and sleep until early afternoon.  This is not a schedule that’s conducive to maximizing your time in port cities.

 

I considered avoiding all of the ports and just staying on the ship.  I could take in lectures, see movies, read on the Lido deck and sit and watch the ocean go by.

 

But I want to go on-shore, see the cities, take pictures and eat at local hot spots.  It’s been 8,032 days since I’ve been out of town and I want to walk somewhere new.

 

Tracy’s King Crab Shack in downtown Juneau

 

When visiting a port city it’s pretty easy to log five-to-seven miles or you can find yourself busy with a specific activity for a full day.  I have been asking myself, “Given my lousy sleeping habits can I keep that kind of pace for five consecutive days or will I end up so sore and exhausted I won’t be able to move?”

 

Soliciting the help of my dog

 

To answer this question I did what any experienced traveler would do – I enlisted the help of my dog.  I started taking her on five, one-mile walks per day to see how I’d feel.

 

After a week I felt ok but with Parkinson’s you never know.  I could disembark from the ship and head for downtown Juneau or Ketchikan and an hour later my body could tell me “no mas.  You need to rest.”  My ability to walk multiple miles in consecutive days is a concern.

 

By the way, my dog poops out around mile three, plops in the grass and wants to rest.  Who can blame her?

 

Parkinson’s sucks

 

Back-to-back city visits that start in the early morning have the potential to leave me with no sleep and an aching body.  I might take in the sights every other day and stay close to the port on some days.  I’m still young.  Why do I even need to think of these things?

 

As I see it, staying on-board the ship for eleven days isn’t terribly different than being home for the past 8,032 days.  The only real difference is at home I have to cook and deliver my own room service order.

 

It seems stupid to confine myself to the ship.  Six thousand miles is a long way to go to see nothing.  I asked myself, “If you were in New York would you stay in your hotel room?  Hell no you wouldn’t.”

 

One of the showrooms is used during the day as a movie theatre.  I know I’m sounding ungrateful but why in the world would I spend time in a darkened theatre aboard a cruise ship when Alaska is just a short distance away?  If the popcorn were free I’d consider it but you have to pay for snacks.  There goes the allure of seeing movies on-board.

 

Table for one again?

 

I’ve watched scores of cruising videos so I don’t act like a first time cruiser upon embarkation. Food is a big deal among people who sail. Each passenger practically has a blank check to eat as much as they want, when they want and nearly everything is already paid for.   Whether you’re eating in the main dining room, a specialty restaurant, the buffet or a poolside pub, people tend to gravitate, congregate, socialize, and enjoy food and beverages in groups.  I’m going to be a single sailing solo.

 

My cruise is 11-days long.  The pessimist in me says I could potentially eat thirty-three meals by myself.  I know I’m probably exaggerating my lack of social skills but there is a possibility that the maitre d in the main dining room could say to me, “Good evening sir, will you be dining alone again tonight?”

 

 

I know other cruise lines offer organized activities for solo travelers such as Meet Ups, happy hours, activities and dinner tables that are specifically dedicated to solo guests.  Does my ship offer similar programs?  I’m not sure.  Nor have I figured out how to pick out the solo cruisers from the non-solo cruisers when there are 3,000 guests on board. I need a secret decoder ring.

 

I’m pretty sure there are the two formal dining nights during our cruise.  Some women wear ball gowns and men wear tuxedos.  Not everyone gets that dressed up, just some.  If I didn’t feel hideously out of place on normal nights, I definitely will feel out of place on formal nights.  I don’t own a suit, tie or dress shoes.  To me, “dressy” means I have to wear socks.  I’m from California, be nice.

 

You’ve probably guessed that,  I am not the most outgoing person in the world.  It’s hard for me to talk to strangers.  Eating alone, or staying on board and hiding in a darkened movie theatre while the rest of my shipmates are fishing, whale watching or checking other items off their bucket lists makes me wonder if this is even a good idea.

 

Sitting on the Lido deck alone isn’t on my bucket list.

 

As I think about this, the cruise sounds like a great idea because it will push me out of my comfort zone.  The anxious side of me is going to miss the comfort of my schedule, which has been well honed over the past 8,032 days.

 

When I travel for business, I don’t care if I eat alone or check out cities by myself.  Not a chance.  The way I look at it, no one cares and no one notices that I’m alone.  Why should I care if I’m alone on a cruise?  I don’t have an answer.  It seems pretty unlikely that I’ll go 11-days without meeting at least a few people but given that I’m reserved, it’s possible that this could be a miserable 11-days.

 

I argue with myself. Part of me thinks I should save the money because one never knows when it may come in handy.  Another part of me is keenly aware that the number of chances that I have to do a trip like this are dwindling.  There will come a day when I won’t have the option to go.  Then how will I feel?  This is the big motivator – I probably don’t have another 8,032 days to doddle around before making a final decision.

 

It’s been a absolutely crappy two decades.  Intellectually I know that the best thing I can do for myself is to push myself out of my comfort zone and go.  My hope is that I make a friend or two and we’ll enjoy seeing Alaska together.  Maybe they’ll become lifelong friends and we can go on several cruises, or dare I say airplane trips, together.

 

I can barely convince myself that seeing Alaska is doable but I’m already thinking of a river cruise somewhere in Europe.  I know, it makes no sense.

 

Future me tells present me that Alaska is going to reignite the traveling bug and that I should shut up and just do it.

 

As of today, August 4, 2024, the day of this post, I have 273 days to figure out if I have the courage to embark the ship.  It’s ironic, I fight Parkinson’s every day and refuse to give in but when it comes to doing something fun for myself I agonize.