Las Veeeegas, Baby....

Gucci. Gooooooochiiiiiiii. Saying this really helps when you have an unbelievably shitty day. I started the love affair with the black version of these ballerina shoes in Copenhagen this spring. I thought they were waaaay to expensive, so I managed to stay strong and leave the shop. Only to discover this grey version later on - in Oslo. Grey is such a good color (except in my hair). Suddenly the price was not an issue. They spoke to me. Now, they make me smile even on a Monday morning.

Time for a business trip. Over the years, I have been quite fortunate to be able to travel to quite a few interesting places as part of my work. Singapore. Lyon. Barcelona. Sydney. Copenhagen. Las Vegas. Orlando. Perth. Salt Lake City. London. Stockholm. San Francisco. Orlando. And - last, but not least - Joplin, Missouri. Quite exotic. Everybody drove huuuge pick-up trucks, and chewed tobacco. For obvious reasons, nobody smokes cigarettes in the vicinity of an explosives plant. We had huge juicy steaks - for breakfast, lunch AND dinner. I was so full of steroid-bred American cattle by the end of the week that I felt like hitting something or someone really hard.

Well, I guess times are changing. This week I got to go on a business trip to a small place close to the town where I grew up. Not exactly the center of the universe, no. Shopping? Sucks. No real party scene to talk about. Somehow, I strongly doubt that I will tag this one on my Tripadvisor map of "places I´ve been". On the positive side, it is a really interesting project. With smart and nice people (a killer combination). And I could stay with my parents. Also, I could bring the husband I did not feel like leaving at home in his current condition - so that my parents could keep him company while I focused on my career. Haha.

After two days in this place, my mind has started to play games on me. I am looking at the autumn leaves and how the sun sets over the lake and leaves it looking like solid gold, and I am thinking: "I guess I could live in a place like this - it´s so peaceful". There is no rush hour, only the odd tractor blocking the way every now and then. I even noticed that I started to adjust the way I talked to the local dialect - A DIALECT THAT I DID NOT EVEN HAVE WHEN I LIVED THERE! Gaaaaah! This is scary. Must get back to the city and get some latte (even though I do not really drink coffee) and have an appointment with my gay hairdresser to get that urban vibe back. I am perfectly happy in the city. Seriously.

Headbanger's Ball

These were today´s backup-shoes. After the incident with the high heels on Friday I have made a vow NEVER to leave the house without an extra pair of flats in my handbag. That will surely save me a lot on taxi fares - money I can spend on more shoes. The above flip-flops were made-to-measure in Sorrento during our last cruise. Bling-bling-bling.

This Saturday really did not turn out as planned. The night between Saturday and Sunday was spent in the emergency room with my poor husband, after a really ugly fall. You do not really understand how deeply you love your husband until you have seen him on a stretcher with a plastic neck-support on.

Fortunately, it turned out to be "only" a brain concussion and some broken ribs. Still, serious enough. I will now most probably have a job as a part-time night-nurse for a couple of weeks.

The (week)end is near

Very typical shoes for me. I bought these last summer, and they go with anything. Only problem is that the heels are a bit on the high side. Since I currently work a few days every week with a client located very close to my home (five minutes by flats/eight minutes by heels), I figured I should wear these to work. Bad choice.

The good news are, I am NOT a WAG. The bad news are that my husband is down with a cold. As everyone knows, a cold is a very serious condition for a man, including my husband. This meant that we had to skip the memorial concert in Oslo Concert Hall in the evening, something we both had looked forward to for months. One of our major childhood heroes died suddenly this spring, and now his musician friends had put together this charity concert in his memory.

Instead of going to the concert, we decided to do some cooking and just relax at home with Season 3 of "Little Britain" on DVD. Then, in the afternoon, I managed to get stuck at work for some impromptu status meeting that lasted and lasted and laaasted.... When it was finally over, my favorite delicatessen was closed. I went to one of the major grocery stores in the area. Not the closest one to my home, but they have more variety. I filled up my cart with all sorts of comfort food, maybe a bit more than really necessary, but - hey - it´s Friday and my dear husband is ill. I manage to cram everything into two overfilled shopping bags and walk outside. Oh boy! It was raining cats and dogs. I am SIX blocks away from home. I am wearing these stupid high heels that are killing me. I have an umbrella in my handbag (Helloooo, old girl scout - I do come prepared!), but there is no way I can manage to keep the umbrella up while carrying my two bursting shopping bags. And I do not want my lovely new leather handbag to get wet.

So, well. I hailed a cab. A girl´s gotta do what a girl´s gotta do, doesn´t she?

WAG the dog

Another great souvenir! I think I am starting to see a pattern here. Interesting, but I did not know that I had more than one pair of purple shoes. I bought these during the autumn kick-off with work last year - in Tallinn, Estonia. May not sound like the most glam place to go shopping, right? Well, you´re wrong. I managed to buy three pairs of shoes. AND a handbag. Which in retrospect was no bargain, because it suddenly appeared in a drawer the other day, with the tag still on it. Oh, well. Guess that happens from time to time to everybody.

My husband got back from Copenhagen today. He told me that he went there to watch the Champions League qualifications between his favorite (Norwegian) team - and FCK. Hm. I am starting to doubt that. He has been out cold on the couch since I got home from work. At nine PM he disappeared, and I just discovered him sound asleep in our bed. Snoring. He can´t be THAT tired just from WATCHING a freaking soccer game, can he? Could it be that he actually played yesterday´s match? Is that why he is so tired? In my mind that is the only plausible explanation. So - does this mean that he is actually an undercover professional soccer player? And - if so - does that make me a WAG?

(If you do not know what a WAG is, you should start upgrading your vocabulary immediately by subscribing to the British version of Cosmo. Shame on you.)

Parlez-vous francais?

This is the other pair from cruise stopover in Positano, Italy. REAL souvenir shoes. Sooo soft. Note to self: Do NOT, I repeat, DO NOT need another pair of PINK shoes now.

Today I started French classes. I just can´t take another vacation in France without knowing what is going on around me. When I was young, the school councelor told us that people that are good with numbers should choose German as their third language - because we would end up doing lots of business with German people. They were partly right, but these Germans actually speak English quite well. What these teachers do NOT tell you is that if you are good with numbers you might actually make enough money to buy a vineyard and MOVE to France when you retire. And - who wants to go to GERMANY on vacation? Well, it was actually useful to speak a bit of German on the after-ski in St. Anton last winter, but - hey - the bartenders spoke mostly SWEDISH anyway. And the word "Jägermeister" is pretty self-explanatory.

So - after traveling to various french-speaking countries for years - I still struggle with my restaurant orders. I mean - I know the basics. But the French are known for their complicated cooking. You understand what one ingredient is, and you guess you have it all figured out, and then the main ingredient is actually something really, really strange. I once ordered a quail in Corsica. I only understood the part on the menu about the vegetables. I almost fainted when I was served a piece of meat that looked like a small animal!!! Eeeek! You should have seen the thighs on this creature. It could have been a huge toad for all I know (it was not). Then there was what I refer to as the "cohonas"-incident last summer. It said carpaccio on the menu. I guess that somewhere they managed to hide the message that this was actually verrryyyy thinly sliced animal (?) testicles. Some slices even had hairs left on them. Are you starting to see my point?

Another rather embarrassing thing - is the fact that I buy these French designer things that I do not even know how to pronounce. Is the S in Hermes silent or not? How about the S in Louis? Gaaah. I just have to get this right. I know that I grew up in the country-side, but that does not mean that I need to sound like a bloody peasant, does it?

It feels a bit strange though. Now I am one of these middle-aged people starting a self-realization project. That, in itself, is a bit depressing. I spent three hours learning how to introduce myself in French this evening. As a bonus, I got to meet a whole new group of people. I will tell you more about them later. You have something to look forward to, I promise.

The grand re-opening

These were the first really, really expensive shoes I bought - for our wedding. They were in fact more expensive than my gown. A wise decision, as the shoes still fit. The shoes are handmade in a cute little shop in Notting Hill, London. AND there is a tiny matching handbag. Not so practical, as it can only carry two credit cards, a lipstick and a (small) tampon. Yesterday I carried my iphone in it, but even though I skipped the other items - I was not able to lock it. It IS cute though. I now wear the shoes once a year, on our anniversary. I think maybe wearing the gown would be a bit over-the-top. Not that it fits me any longer anyway. Like most married women, I no longer look anything like the "sales package" presented pre-marriage. Back then I even ironed his shirts, can you imagine?

Anyway. We are a couple with many traditions. You tend to develop quite a few when you have been together for so long. On our very first (wedding) anniversary, my husband took me to Theatercafeen for lunch. We actually had such a good time that we decided to stay there for dinner as well. After that we have downsized it to just dinner. This summer, the place has been closed for renovations. We could not talk them into re-opening on Saturday, on the actual day, but since the re-opening was just two days after, we figured it would be ok. It was worth the wait. We were quite curious about the changes, but the interior was only freshened up a bit. The big difference was the food. Although the classics on the menu have been kept, the food was generally so much better. So the kitchen upgrade paid off.

Of course it was also fun watching the celebrities that are regulars. "Everybody" was there for opening night. The close to a hundred year old theatre diva. Even the Forbes-500-guy that feels sick because of the Norwegian shipping regulations. He looked like he was going to survive, even when the evening television news kept stalking him outside the restaurant window.

Sunday therapy session

Some shoes I fell for during the summer sales in my (original) home town. The back of the shoe has CANNES printed in gold studs, in addition to the first names of some of the major female stars during this year´s film festival. Deliciously tacky.

Time for the monthly "Stitch & Bitch" meeting. As just two of us were getting any needle-work done on this particular Sunday, the main focus was on "bitchin". Which we are really good at.

As I pride myself in getting some work during every meeting, I managed to complete the text of my current "aggressive embroidery" piece. I will not reveal my source of inspiration.

The sun always shines on TV

My new suuuuper-pink (term picked up in Mykonos) Superga shoes bought in Sorrento. My summer favourite. I am on my third pair of the same shoes in white - they tend to die on me after one season. In spite of, or maybe because of, repeated rounds in the laundry.

Our wedding anniversary. Lazy morning. Picked up romantic surprise gift for husband, two screen prints by Gunilla Holm Platou. Crispy duck and Dim Sum for lunch, followed by VERY exciting soccer match where Arsenal humiliated some other team by beating them 6-0. Soooo exciting. I fell asleep sometime during the second half.

Attacked the bottom shelf of the wine cabinet. Arrived nice and bubbly in Ullevål Stadium - parents and husband in tow - just in time to get two of the worst musical experiences I have ever had. The first warm-up act was just really loud and made you want to hurt yourself. The second was an embarrassing mix of polka-jazz with a hint of Austrian bierstube/apres-ski. Yoodelo-fucking-hihi.

Then. Finally - the main act. A-ha. This was the fifth, but hopefully not the last time I had the pleasure of hearing them live. Sound was great. They even played all my favorites except "Lifelines". Bad timing of toilet break, got to hear most of "Manhattan Skyline" from inside a portaloo. Bummer. I know the two final shows of the farewell tour are sold out, but if I find someone to throw money at, I will. I just don´t want this to be over just yet.

Pancake hell

New shoes, haha! This is one of the pairs I got in Positano last week. The colour did not come out to well in the photo, but I like the fact that they are the exact same colour as one of my shirts. Yay!

I wonder when I will come out of vacation coma. This morning I woke up with the worst headache. Took an aspirin, texted work about being late and then slept for another hour. Decided to treat myself to a low-carb pancake with fresh berries for breakfast (still missing the Eggs Benedict...). Could have been a good choice, except for the fact that I poured the pancake mix into the frying pan (heat on), and then went into the bedroom to get (properly) dressed. And then I completely forgot about the whole pancake business - that is - until the fire alarm went off. I ran out to the balcony with the burning frying pan (must have been a sight for people passing on the street). I had to turn the damn alarm thing off five times. And then this lady from the Security Company called to ask "Are you ok?" I just wanted to scream. But I am so polite, you know. Would never do that.

Worst thing - I was so hungry I ate the damn thing. With enough sour cream on it, I can apparently eat anything. I have heard that you get a great (singing) voice by eating burnt food. I will SO go for karaoke this weekend.

I got into the office two hours late, with the smell of burnt pancake in my hair. Lovely. Glad I had my new shoes, or this day would have been a disaster. Anyway - gotta go. Husband taking me out for dinner. I guess he isn´t that impressed with my cooking skills today.

The barbarian strikes again

During the lunch at the Quattro Passi the week before last, we had a little discussion around the table. All the Americans claimed proudly that they were very open-minded, and would eat ANYTHING. Yeah, right.

That is, until I mentioned that I am quite fond of reindeer. As a main course. The whole restaurant suddenly fell quiet. Everybody around the table took a brief look at me, thinking "did she just say that?" Then they all turned way - in disgust. I sure know how to make new friends. My husband nearly cracked up, you should have seen the faces.

For some strange reason, I always crave very "Norwegian" food after traveling. So, today it is time for reindeer stew ("finnbiff"). Moooooahahaaaa.

Reality bites

Monday morning. Back to work. Fortunately, I am working on some system documentation today, so I could have a nice and quiet morning working from home. Sort of a soft start.

That is - until I opened my computer bag to greet the lunch that I did not have time to eat on my last day at work before going on vacation. Ouch.

All good things must come to an end

A very good friend of mine (and client) wore shoes like these last summer. They really spoke to me. So, when I found these on a treasury hunt at the Saks 5th Avenue outlet store south of San Francisco last autumn, I had to let them come home with me. I will apparently cross oceans to get the right shoes. Ok, well. There was a work related conference going on in the area also.

Saturday morning we were docked in Civittavecchia. The fairytale is over. I truly hate this. Will miss living in this dream. And I will miss the great people onboard. Bartender Pablo and his funny sense of humor, the very pleasant Domonos (?) that seemed to whisper when he spoke - "will that be with a side order of bacon, Madam?", Felix with his "aloha!" greetings and Sean the Sommelier, that was always there when your glass was almost empty - and is a great guy even if he is a Man U fan. And not to forget Angelo, that could make the whole table crack up with his funny facial expressions.

Good thing we saw the Cruise Director and booked another cruise yesterday. We need something to look forward to. Seadream has now started a concept with open bookings. You pay a deposit while onboard, and get the onboard discount. Then you decide within a year when you would like to go. We have started dreaming about the Caribbean in January. Right in the middle of yearend, the best time of year to go away for someone working in accounting.

We fly home with Scandinavian Airlines. Just as good to get used to bad service immediately. It is like pulling off a bandaid. Better to do it quickly and get it over with.

Got back to Oslo on time. Just one suitcase missing out of 8 checked in for the whole family. Not too bad.

Suffering from withdrawal. To really face the reality of being home, we heated up some ready-made Fjordland soup for dinner.

The last supper

Gift from my husband. Cannes last summer. There is an amazing shoe store on the way from the Croisette to our favorite seafood restaurant. Lucky me. The only pair of shoes that my husband refers to with the brand name, as he thinks "Miu Miu" is SO cute. I love him. And these shoes.

Spent the afternoon packing and looking after my poor husband.

As always on the last night - Menu Degustation. Husband made it out of bed in spite of his terrible cold, but we made it an early night. Everybody is a bit more quiet now than on the other nights.

That´s amore

The last day of our vacation. Woke up with a man with a cold. Serious. Cut my losses and went into town on my own. Were planning on joining the "Chef´s walk" last week, so would not miss it this week. Wise decision. We have been to Sorrento quite a few times. Normally we end up having a drink or five in a nice cafe in Piazza Tasso. Where they serve THE best tiramisu. (Oh, why do I always crave food that is not good for me?) Normally I take a little stroll browsing the shops in Corso Italia, but I have never really found anything special. Running parallel to Corso Italia is the Via San Cesareo, the pedestrian street. I have never really walked down this street, as it seemed to be just a tourist trap with its Italian flag banners and souvenir shops. Big mistake. The chef took us walking down this street, and in between all the souvenir shops he showed us several really interesting places. This chef is very special. He is extremely enthusiastic about his job. And you can tell from the food he makes, it is just extraordinary. Amazing guy.

First stop was a lemoncello tasting. I know it is only ten in the morning, but when the owner looks like Pavarotti, and you are served five different types of lemoncello, the best being the meloncello - you can not help joining in when the whole group joins in on the chorus of "Volare".

Volare, oh oh

Cantare, oh oh oh oh

Nel blu dipinto di blu

Felice di stare lassu

Next - more lemoncello. Then - we go to a small deli, to taste ham and cheese. Before the chef treats us all to coffee in an old cafe. They serve THE best cappuccino, and the owner flirts with all the women in the group - very Italian. Then another interesting place - end up buying a bottle of the excellent grappa my male family members had as a digestif in Capri. Good present for husband. And some tartufo for my scrambled eggs back home. Then - chef treats us all to gelato at Bougainvillea on Corso Italia. 80 types of gelato. Mmmm.

Walk back to the port on my own. Discover that the place that makes the beautiful sandals in Positano has an even bigger shop in Sorrento. Have 2 pairs made to measure. Buy my mother-in-law an apron with her name embroidered on it. Find an Italian soccer shirt with shorts for my nephew. And - finally - discover my favourite tennis shoes (Superga) in bright pink. Tells me that if they have my size, it´s my destiny to buy them. Of course they have.

Climbing down the stairs from Piazza Tasso to the port I can´t get rid of this song playing in my head. I think I might be turning Italian.

When the moon hits you eye like a big pizza pie - that's amore

When the world seems to shine like you've had too much wine - that's amore

La dolce vita

We sailed back to Sorrento during the afternoon. Our last dinner "al fresco". Excellent carpaccio. This was also the day of the dessert buffet. And these people mean serious business when they set up a dessert buffet. Caramelized bananas. Creme Brulee - three different flavors. Cannoli. Lemon pie. Home-made icecream. And finally, a huge croquembouche. I love profiteroles. I think I could gain weight just by looking at all this stuff.

Funiculì, Funiculà - the island of luuuuv

My all time favorite summer shoes. The third pair. White shoes are a pain. I picked up this last pair in Vieux-Antibes this summer. The old ones had to go to shoe heaven after serving me well for years.

I know. This song is not about the funicular in Capri. But still the song always reminds me of Capri. There is another song that is about Capri, but I don´t like that one. It´s to cheesy. And there are enough cheesy stuff in Capri as is.

We got up early again, after just a few hours of sleep due to the not-so-successful night out on deck. This week, Flavio and Salvatore decided that it was ok to take their tenders out - so we were picked up by one of them for a tour from Marina Grande, where the yacht was anchored, over to the other side of the island - to the famous Faraglioni rocks. The boat took us through the rock, and you are supposed to kiss the person next to you and make a wish as you pass through it. My husband and I really went at it. Twice. We will see at some stage how that worked out. Afterwards, we were driven up to Anacapri in these great taxi convertibles for a tour on the chairlift up to Mount Solaro. Being above average afraid of heights, this was a bit of a challenge. At least I managed not to scream out loud, I just roared on the inside.

The love of my life had reserved a table for lunch at one of the best restaurants in Capri Town. Unfortunately, we had both managed to leave our wallets on the yacht. As we were carrying very little cash, and I was hoping to browse some of the designer stores in town after lunch (very secret plan), this was a disaster. To save the day, I went on the funicular down to the port, tender back to ship and straight in again. Took me a good hour. I met some awfully nice fellow passengers from Boston that offered to lend me money to pay for lunch, but with my undercover plan in mind - it just would not do. I needed some serious plastic on this occasion. To get back up into town I hired my own convertible taxi. Felt like a queen. I think. Not that I know how a queen feels.

Lunch at "Da Giorgio" was excellent. Great view. Delicious food. No-carb diet about to go down the drain - at least for a while - now, as I love pasta. Wild strawberries (the real tiny ones) for dessert.

Left the others to go shopping. Fell in love with a bag from Prada. Just when I was about to take the funicular back to the port - because I thought the thing was too expensive - husband shows up and takes me back into shop and buys me a bag. Not the one I had been coveting minutes before, but a bigger one. One that can even carry my work laptop. Sometimes he is just too good. This really is the island of luuuuv.

Just for the record - my wish under the Faraglioni rock was not for a new handbag. It was far less materialistic. Hope it works out.

The vultures

Another great buy from the mall in Frejus, France. I saw them in the window, and then I snook back later and bought them. Then smuggled them home. "Oh these!?" Haven´t you seen them before?! I have had them for yeeeears! You never really notice me, do you?!"

Busy day. Club member cocktail party in the evening. Everyone that has sailed with Seadream before is automatically a member, and that included 39% of the guests on this particular voyage - which is around average. Again, wrong shoes. Comfortable, but too high. Try balancing a glass of champagne, a plate with canapes and a handbag while on a ship at anchor. Note to self - on next cruise I will bring only flat shoes.

Caviar buffet. Seems like people can never get enough caviar. I always seem to arrive to late, ending up with blinis with sour cream.

Although we are all a bunch of caviar vultures, the atmosphere on the ship is much better this second week. (Last week there was actually a stampede with French people at the buffet). If you get a groups of people onboard that behave badly, it seems to affect the whole mood on the ship, but this week everybody was really nice and polite. Of course, there is always an exception to prove the rule. The troll (she even looked like one) marked her territory already on the first day of the cruise. She announced for all to hear (hard not to her this person when she got started) - that she was an avid poster on TripAdvisor (her husband was even wearing a TripAdvisor cap to underline it), and that she ALWAYS posted things when traveling, so the people on the ship should not feel too comfortable. She had actually managed to run a restaurant in some godforsaken place out of business with one of her postings, and she was soooo proud of it. Bitch. I mean, this woman had issues. She would ALWAYS find something to complain about. Of course, she looked miserable throughout the entire cruise. Not as miserable as her poor husband though, whom she kept bossing around.

Dinner up on deck watching Amalfi "by night". After a few after-dinner drinks, we finally felt brave enough to don our new pajamas. People thought we were late for the Tuesday pajama party, but we were only having our "family meteor-shower-sleepover" up on deck six. No meteors to be seen, but enjoyed watching the stars. Could not really sleep when the ship started sailing towards tomorrow´s destination, Capri. Too windy, and warm smoke blowing from the chimney. I guess it was not as romantic as I thought it would be. Went down to cabin after a few hours.

The revenge of the chicken

This is funny! These were also bought in Oslo Airport. On my way to Stavanger to see one of my favorite clients. I must point out that this was NOT the morning flight. I do not shop before seven AM.

Amalfi today. Bought the mandatory lemon-soap and lemon-scented olive oil. Had limoncello and lemon sorbet. But this was not my big achievement of the day. Oh no. I went back on the jetski! Haha! I was driving, with my dad as a passenger. Great fun, and I did not scream once! Or at least, not as loud as yesterday, that is. My husband told me he had not seen anyone ride the thing that slowly before, but - hey, I did it, didn't I? Will go faster the next time. Apparently the learning curve for these things are quite steep.

Looking forward to tonight. We have booked our Balinese Dream Beds for the night, and there will be a meteor shower after midnight. The Perseids. Never seen one before, and I bet this will be slightly better than watching it from my balcony at home. Wonder if they will serve me a glass of champagne in bed.

Well, gotta go. Swimming off the ship in half an hour.

Jet skiiiiiiiii

Did you know that the shoe shopping in Oslo Airport is not too bad? I got these ON SALE on the way to my sister-in-law´s wedding last year.

Positano, on the Amalfi coast. Cruising past Capri in the morning, beautiful.

Finally agreed to join my husband on the jetski. I am now officially the chicken of the ship. When I am scared, I scream. Loudly. My dad came running from deck six down to deck three to see what was going on. Well, I am glad I can make other people laugh, then I have at least one purpose in life.

Went ashore in the afternoon. I had totally forgotten, but Positano is great for shoe shopping! They make really soft driving shoes and some gorgeous leather sandals with tons of bling. A bit taken aback when I got into the shop, and this hundred-year-old shoes salesman took a look at my feet and said "no shoes, big foot". Hm. Luckily I was distracted by something else going on in the store. A very strange-looking woman was trying on some sandals, and they did no have her size. So she started CRYING! I mean, seriously, even I would not have done that. They threw her out of the store, and the guy working there told me that she was a stylist working with Gianbatista Vialli, and that she had put too much white powder up her nose. Strange place.

Anyway, they had shoes in my size, after all. I could not decide between the blush pink suede driving shoes or the purple leather ones. So - guess what! I bought both. While I went shopping, my husband had a beer and watched Seal and Heidi Klum and their two gorgeous kids eat gelato down by the pier. You gotta love Positano.

Rounded off the day with champagne by the pool at sunset. Dinner outside on the top deck with the wind in my hair. The announced pyjama disco on the top desk crashed and burned, as only four people turned up in their jammies. A real pity, as I would have loved to dance around in my brand new Seadream pyjama with my name on it.

Is this whole island surrounded by water?

Spent the morning cruising the Maddalena Strait over to Sardinia. Great view from my Balinese Dreambed up on deck six. My dear husband was a bit under the weather after running the entertainment onboard the night before. Karaoke. Bruce Springsteen. Why is it that I am always sound asleep when he does these things? I wish I had been there.

Went ashore in Porto Rotondo in the afternoon. Perfectly nice and clean little village surrounded by holiday houses, but truly a place with no soul. The main piazza was in fact a parking lot lined with overpriced boutiques - selling huge, shiny things. If you have a taste similar to newly rich Russians, this is the place to go shopping. You could get a huge golden monkey to put around your neck, as well as golden Ugg boots and red and pink fur jackets. Match that with hotpants, and you are ready to go. Who on earth goes shopping for FUR in the height of summer?!

By the way, there is siesta from 1300 to 1730. A very sleepy place. To quote Monty Python again: "there is absoluuutely nothing to see here".

The evening was much better. Dinner with the captain - again. I can totally get used to doing this on Monday nights. Very entertaining, and got to hear some funny stories about life at sea. Also learnt that the yacht has been chartered for a private trip the upcoming week. Ivana Trump and friends. I guess there will be people onboard next week with a lot better shoes than me.

Mine is bigger than yours

These shoes are not really me. But they were on sale, and they make me look really tall. They are also unbelievably comfortable. Except when walking DOWN stairs.

Another morning with a reason to get up early. The yacht was to be docked in Bonifacio, Corsica. The entrance to the port is so narrow that the captain has to back the ship into the port. Quite a sight. I will never again brag about my own parking skills, even though they are not that bad. I could not help feeling a bit sorry for the guy with the biggest yacht in port when we came backing in, though. Poor fellow. He has this all worked out, and here we come and rain on his parade.

Bonifacio is a great place. We have been there before, and it is a beautiful little port. Unfortunately, like the rest of France it would have been an even better place without all the French people living there. Being there - you need to try to get by with the little French you know, and as a thank you for trying, they will answer you in Frenglish. No smiling.

Spent the morning sightseeing. Took the small tourist train from Basse Ville (port) to Haute Ville (on the cliffs). White wine. Almost shopping. Looked at some really great steak knives, of the violent sounding brand VENDETTA (locally made, of course). I Even asked the iPhone octopus, and he ordered me to buy, but I resisted. Somehow, I do not like the thought of flying with six really sharp knives in my suitcase. Even though I like it here in Soutern Europe, I really would like to be able to go home when the time comes.

Around five and six is normally rush hour in most towns and cities all over the world. In Bonifacio this is a bit different, as the traffic jam consists of YACHTS. And it is not the small cute ones you see in St. Tropez. These are real mega-yachts, with some smaller ships allowed in-between, maybe to function as fenders, I do not know. And they all line up to get a place in the port of Bonifacio. Some because they like Corsica, but most because they need to get to port before it gets dark, and the ports of closeby Sardinia, which is concidered more trendy, tend to be full at this time of year.

Anyway. We were looking at this spectacle, with huge yachts lined up, honking impatiently, and having to turn and go back out from the port to line up in the back again - because they need to wait for a spot that is big enough. From our deck we looked DOWN on these other yachts. Waving like royalty (stiff elbow) and sipping our champagne. Priceless.

Dinner on the top deck, watching the sunset. The shoes made me almost as tall as my very tall dad. If you add champagne, I got pretty high.

Family reunion

My very first pair of Jimmy Choos! To someone that loves shoes as much as I do, this is - of course - a must. My husband bought me these during one of our dirty weekends in Stockholm.

Disembarkation time. Ship is docked in Civitavecchia, outside Rome. The hallways are full of suitcases packed with dirty underwear and silly souvenirs. There is a bit of a sad athmosphere during breakfast. The fairytale is over, everybody is going home. Some are staying for a few days in Rome, the rest are flying straight home.

Well. Not everybody. We were talking to this nice lady during breakfast, and she was telling us how upset she felt about her vacation being over. My dear husband responded: "Oh, I feel quite good actually. Because we are staying on for another week." He sure is emphatic.

There are quite a few great things about staying on the ship for more than one cruise, or "back-to-back" as it is called. On embarkation day, you have the whole ship - or in this case - yacht - pretty much to yourself. We spent our time on the top deck Balinese beds sunbathing, before being served a lunch specially cooked for us by the chef according to our wishes. I guess you could say that you have been fed well over the last week, when the chef asks you what you would like for lunch, and say that you can have ANYTHING you like. And you take the club sandwich.

Embarkation day is very different when you have stayed on the ship for a week, and is well settled. Everybody else is a newcomer, so this day it does not matter what you wear, because you are now "at home", while the others are not. Embarkation starts at 1400 in the afternoon. A brand new group of passengers. This time it was particularly exciting, as the new group included four very special guests: my parents and my in-laws. As they all have turned or will turn 60 in about a year, we invited them along on the ship for a week as a birthday present.

Finally, the fabulous four arrived - and we could go straight to the caviar buffet. Yummy. Then a new life-boat drill. Rumrunners and champagne on the upper deck. And then a quiet dinner in the downstairs dining room. I think everyone were quite excied about the whole week ahead of us, so we made it an early night. My husband and I rented the Monty Python classic about the Holy Grail to watch in bed. After a week onboard with a group of a few quite rude French people, we needed a re-run of the scene where King Arthur approaches the French castle to unwind. You silly French Kniggets, I fart in your general direction!

Love me tender

The plan was to go to Capri today. Or as some call it, Capriiiii. Unfortunately, the island of Capri is one of the few places whre the ship is not allowed to use its own tender service when at anchor. In Capri, they have a local guy named Flavio and a guy named Salvatore that runs the tender service. A duopoly. On this particular day, they did not really feel like working. So, they got up, saw that the weather was perfect for a day off, and decided that the waves were to high to run the tender.

So, our options were to stay on the ship, or take the Seadream tender ashore to Sorrento, and then the ferry over to Capri. As last night turned out to be quite a party, I made an unconscious decision to stay in the cabin until lunchtime. Bad judgment. When someone turns up at breakfast without his or her spouse, all the stewards immediately know that there is someone downstairs with a bit of a hangover. So when you finaly manage to drag yourself out of bed, they make fun of you for the rest of the day. "Just ginger ale today, maam? No champagne?" Or - in this particular case - absinthe. You may wonder what on earth made me try absinthe on a ship were I could have as much champagne as I wanted. Beats me too. I just sometimes get these really moronic ideas.

Luckily for me, Flavio and Salvatore over in Capri actually had something going for them on this day. The swells were increasing throughout the day, and as the waves were shaking the ship throughout the afternoon, I converted my previous hangover to seasickness, which is so much more ladylike. It's a sign that you are a bit faint at heart, a true lady. AND when you are seasick everybody feels sorry for you. Whole different story altogether.

Lunch consisted of three french fries, two ginger ale. After a seasickness pill from the concierge and another long nap - I managed to drag myself into the shower and give myself a makeover, so that at least when looking in the mirror, I could fool myself into thinking that I was ok. Being a bit of a foodie, you cannot keep me out of the dining room on the night of the "Menu Degustation". My body actually responded very well to being fed small tasting-size pieces of gourmet fare. I also enjoyed being served more ginger ale by a younger version of Pierce Brosnan. The weather also got better, which of course added to the instant healing process.

Hit the blackjack table after dinner. There is a saying about how people have luck in either games or love. I am definitely in the latter category. Still, does not keep me from playing. I am not sure if it's good thing, but my husband tends to win back almost the same amount that I loose. Money wise that is good, but does that mean that he does not have the same luck in love as I do? Hope not.

Forks are not the same as stars

They make me Eggs Benedict for breakfast every day now. They have a no-carb version without the muffin. Could get used to this.

Sorrento. We signed up for a luncheon (lunch, but it sounds more elegant) at the Quattro Passi restaurant in Nerano. The trip was by speedboat. I expected something elegant, like these wooden shiny things they do in Venice. And the restaurant was marketed as three-star Michelin. So, I came stumbling down the gangway. First, the tender. Then the speedboat, that looked like something I would go deepsea-fishing with. Found out very early that I had the wrong shoes. Too high heels.

Going to a lunch like this with a group of people you do not know is interesting. You can never know what to expect. The first group was three women - daughter, mother and mother-in-law. Very nice people from New York. Then it was the two of us. And finally - the king of the ship this week - with his daughter and his girlfriend (same age?). This is the foxy-foxy-guy from the Corinth Canal. He ran the whole show with a discussion about living in California versus New York. Spiced up with bragging about his vacations in St. Tropez. Like nobody else around the table had ever been there. After five minutes, the girlfriend tuned out, she actually seemed stoned or something. Every time someone talked to her, she said "oh, I wasn't paying attention". felt so sorry for the daughter. If my dad behaved like that, I would have hidden under the table. The food was good, but not better than back on the ship. When you have tried one with three stars once, then you know what to expect - and my expectations were not met. It turned out that the place actually had one Michelin star, and three forks. There is a difference.

Spent afternoon with prosecco and husband on main square of Sorrento. Went shopping for a little while, but did not find anything I liked. Really happy about that, must mean that I maybe have all I need. Dinner on the ship, gazing at the sunset over Capri. Everybody went ashore to go partying, so we had the TOY (top-of-the-yacht) bar to ourselves, and could blast the speakers with the classic Franz Ferdinand song about Jaqueline. It's so much better on holiday, so much better on holiday.

Getting reports from older family members having a great time in Rome. Champagne on the roof terrace of Hotel Raphael. Looking very much forward to Saturday.

Fly me to the moon?

Trainers. I buy loads of them every time I travel to the US, because we pay an arm and a leg for them in Norway. These are from last year, and perfect for the lava sand. My husband and I have the same ones, but we try not to wear them at the same time. I do not want to be among those couples that wear the same thing to show that they "belong", you know.

Taormina in Sicily. After seven years, we are back. And this time, we made it. To Mount Etna. The last time we were here, the possibility of having to walk a few meters scared everybody else off going on this excursion, but now it was time.

First we were greeted by our adorable guide, that was kind enough to remind us already on the busride up to the mountain, that tipping was allowed - and also expected. Then she went on about all the eruptions of the volcano, with her sloooooow English spiced up with her Italian accent. She was telling us about everything like we were a group from a kindergarten.

Mount Etna is quite a majestic sight from afar. This time, we were really lucky, as the sky was really clear - and we could see the summit. The last eruption was in 2002, but still there are five active craters. Which makes the trip quite exciting. After an hour in a bus with the annoying guide, we got on a cable car. This took us to the middle station, from where quite a few people did their hiking towards the crater. We took the easy way out and took 4x4 buses to the top. Or as far as we are allowed to go. And then - we were on the moon! "Fly me to the moon" with Frank Sinatra is a very special song for me. We played it during our first dance as a married couple. And my husband has surely flown me to a lot of of amazing places. But - finally - the moon, and by cable car!

The guide reminded us again to tip her before we left the bus, and the same time she complained to all of us about how much hassle it was for her that we would like to end the tour in Taormina, when she had parked her car in the port. Bitch.

This was the day of the volcanoes. Late in the evening, we sailed past Stromboli, the only European volcano with lava still running. We have sailed past it before, but this time we sailed on the wrong side of the island, the inhabited/safe side. We could still see the silhouette of the volcano against the starry sky, so it was not all bad.

Captain Mandolini

I am not a fan of snake-skin, fake or real, so I do not know what the deal is with these. I think it is the flower-thing that got to me. They are not even comfortable. Stupid shoes.

Kephalonia. Maybe not a well-known destination, but its is a cute little place. Typical sailing destination. This was also the island where the movie "Captain Corelli's Mandolin" was filmed. Starring Penelope Cruz and Nicholas Cage. I guess this is close as I will ever be to my great movie hero, but most probably that is just as good. He is a bit over the top, I think.

Anyway, most of my day was completely ruined by some stupid issues related to my work. Did not help that my dear husband had forgotten that Gin & Tonic is NOT the recommended thirst-quencher when above 30 degrees celsius.

We are now leaving the country of the Retsina for the country of Prosecco. More my kind of thing. Will probably help me get back my normal happy-happy-vacation-face. Actually, I am normally a very happy person. But when on vacation I take it to a whole new level. Once (on a cruise, of course), there was this lady that told my husband that I always looked so happy. We have discussed the explanations he should have given her for years now. The first being that I am - in fact - raving mad. The second that really dumb/blond people just smile all the time, as they do not get what is going on. Then - my favorite - because I do eat. My husband also has a favorite explanation having to do with one of his body parts. Would have liked to see the look on that poor woman's face. She was just trying to be nice.

Corinthian letter

I am not sure whether they wore gladiator sandals in ancient Corinth, but I am trying to stick to a theme here. I picked up these just after Easter - in Oslo. Tried on the very same shoes last summer, but they were not available in my size. Kept looking for similar shoes in the right size throughout the winter, but could not find anything like these. And then this brand decided to run them for another season, including size kayak! Hooray! I danced out of the shop that day. Oh, the memories.

Hey. I almost forgot to tell you. Yesterday we were anchored next to an old friend outside Mykonos. The Wind Spirit. She really is a beauty. We have done 14 cruises with the Windstar fleet, three of them aboard the Spirit. So we felt a very short pang of guilt tendering past her. But it passed. Nothing wrong with them, but think I have moved on now. Once you have tried Seadream, there is no way back. Your are spoiled forever.

Also, sailing from Mykonos yesterday evening, we saw dolphins swimming along the ship. We have experienced this once before, sailing through the straits of Gibraltar during sunset. Ten years ago, but it is a memory that sticks with you. We still have the joke between us when sitting out on deck. If you suddenly scream "DOLPHIIIIINS!" the ship will tilt, as all the passengers will come running to the one side of the ship. Everybody loves dolphins.

Monday morning. Not normally my favorite time of the week. Today was special. We got up really early to get a nice spot on Deck six. The ship was planned to transit the Corinth Canal just after breakfast. It is difficult to describe it in words. The canal is straight, 4 km, goes straight across the Peloponnese peninsula. I think the Seadream I is among the few cruise ships that can pass. With just a few meters clearing on each side. Quite spectacular. We even saw a fox climbing the steep wall. Unfortunately the memory was to a big extent destroyed by the sleazy middle-aged gentleman seeing the fox and then shouting "Hey, foxy-foxy-fooooxy!" in what my dirty in told me was the same manner as he would scream when "spending time" with his young far-too-young girlfriend. Pig.

Another highlight of the Corinth Canal was the Cruise Director's very informative messages to the ship. I am not sure how many years this man has been at sea, but it has been a while. Still, he kept going on and on about these amazing bridges at each end of this canal. And how they did not open to the side or get lifted to let us through, no - they actually submerged down into the water! Last time I checked, that was called a lock. Never a bridge. To top it all off, he went on about this on the calling system for the whole ship to hear. As we approached the LOCK, he was saying in a very strange voice: "Oh, and doooooown she goes...". Scary.

The day was spent anchored outside Itea. The harbour of ancient Delphi. I am not really a big fan of watching old rocks in the heat of summer, so we spent most of the day on the ship. Sunbathing. Swimming off the water sports platform. Just a short trip ashore to write postcards and have some Retsina. Wrote four postcards or "Corinthian Letters".

Being Norwegian can sometimes be an advantage. The captain is a very young (my age!) and really nice gentleman from Askoey outside of Bergen (Norwegian!). He invited us for dinner, together with another Norwegian couple. It is considered a great honor to be invited, and you get this very formal invitation to your cabin. I could not help myself posting it to Facebook. Sorry. Got a bit carried away there. Anyway, we had a really great time, it even turns out that the captain went to school with two of my friends! The other couple was very nice. He is a well-known Norwegian investor, so he and my husband had a lot to talk about. If you add football to the equation, it was a great match (he used to own a club). His wife was also really nice, and EXTREMELY good-looking. We are talking absolutely stunning. I felt like the world's dumbest person when asking her what she did for a living. She is an international model. Of course. Stupid question. Normally I am quite proud of my own job, but this time I just fell real silent, and it was really awkward. Corporate accounting just isn't that glamorous.

Suuuuper Paradise

I never had Minnetonka shoes during the eighties, when all the cool girls had them. My younger sister had a pair (even though she was not what I would define as cool at that time). Then I met a really nice Canadian girl (living in NY) on a cruise a few years age, and she wore these. I was just hooked. Had-to-have-these! So, I searched the internet for MONTHS after (I did other normal things in between, like eat and go to work and stuff) - but getting these white ones was not easy. A bit like the holy grail of shoes. Found them on a UK website.

So - Mykonos. The St. Tropez of Greece. Beautiful place, beautiful people. First time I heard about the place was on a cruise from Istanbul to Athens. There was a woman on the ship that was quite used to having her way. She tried to seduce the captain to get him to change the itinerary so that we would go to Mykonos instead of Samos. Of course, we went to Samos. But I must say, she really gave it a try. So when people are willing to go to such great lengths to get to this place, I figured it had to be nice.

The first thing you see, are the five windmills. Typical postcard. Then you start noticing all the really gorgeous men. And they dress impeccably. It is quite ok to stare, as your husband can never be jealous, because they are all gay anyway.

The two best beaches are Paradise, and - the one I guess is even better - Super Paradise. We planned on going to the beach. But we could not get hold of a cab. Taxi Square seemed to be named after the one taxi the island once had, and not because it was where the taxi stand was located. The beaches in Mykonos are what is referred to as "clothing optional". As the information letter from the ship said, "you do not have to participate". Participate in what? Being NAKED? Or does people really believe that if people take their clothes of, they will automatically be part of an orgy - right there on the beach? I guess a few people expected this, as this is after all the sinful country called Europe. They must have been really disappointed, as the people that take their clothes off on these beaches are the ones that NEVER should undress. Ever.

So. No trip to the beach. We went for champagne at a seaside place in what is called Little Venice. My husband sure knows how to get me in a good mood.

During the evening, it was time for the captain's welcome reception. There is a dress code on this ship, but still we had some middle-aged Brazilian men approaching the buffet in their Speedos (I know there is a special name for this particular Brazilian swimwear for men, but my brain refuses to remember it). So it was like a caviar/hot dog buffet, sort of.