Nikki bitch

The last day of 2010. Had lunch reservation at Nikki Beach with Barbie and Ken. Turned out the place was closed due to "technical problems". And, being just about THE cooooooolest restaurant on earth, they did not care to call and inform their guests. Jerks. I was quite disappointed as I have had the whole "Nikki Beach Experience" on my "to do" list for quite a while! But since I tend to be quite unforgiving when it comes to things like this, it is now off the list. At least for a while. Instead, we ended up in a much nicer place, most probably far less pretentious. Tom Beach. Delicious lunch, and some scary-looking magnum bottles of rosé.


After lunch, we spent some time "plane-spotting", as the beach in St. Jean happens to be the end of the runway of the local airport. I think arriving by ship has worked out pretty well for us so far. So I guess we will keep it like that also in the future, as this really did not look all that tempting.


Vrooooooom.

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Location:St. Jean, St. Barthelemy, French West Indies

The Larry-bag

I was a bit bummed out today about the Hermes bag being sold out. However, I guess I should tell you, the REAL "it-bag" these days is not designed by Hermes. Not at all. You may not have heard about the "Larry-bag" before, but this is a VERY special / secret emergency kit bag that will help you out of almost ANY challenging situation you might encounter. A totally versatile bag. It is also EXTREMELY exclusive, and is given only to a very limited group of key people working for Oracle. The real inner circles. Mister Ellison's trusted few.

By coincidence, my new friend, Mr. Wonderful (also referred to as the Ken-doll by his adorable wife "Barbie") happens to be part of this very exclusive club over in sunny Califor-ni-a. Most people I meet outside work just go onto full "geek-alert"-mode, smile politely and then secretly roll their eyes behind my back when I try to explain what I do for a living. Which is not the case with Mr. W. He totally gets it! I am always so touched when people ask me WHICH Hyperion product I work with. Can you imagine the joy I felt? Hm. I guess not. Perhaps we should form a support group for the endangered species known as "Geeks at sea".

Well. I can not begin to tell you how happy am to inform you that I am now the very proud owner of my very own copy of this very exclusive bag. Isn't that just fabulous? After having bag envy for days now, I have already started personalizing it to give the content a somewhat more feminine touch, as tampons and lip balm are not part of the default configuration.



It really is a pity Larry is not here right now, as these bags would EASILY get us access to his yacht. I bet.


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Location:Gustavia, Saint Barthelemy, French West Indies

Here comes the rain again

Same bad weather as yesterday. So what it a girl supposed to do? When everything else fails, go shopping. As a bonus you get some of the best people watching available, with this island being the Caribbean playground of the rich and famous. And their "possé".

However, spotting a REAL celebrity is, quite challenging. As the place is packed with wannabees. Like us. Who all seem to behave EVEN MORE than stars than the REAL ones. So beware. We spotted a guy today that was totally channeling Jack Nicholson. It turned out he was - in fact - a local taxi driver.

This week there is a new yacht in the harbor. We refer to we it as "Frankenstein". Owned by yet another rich Russian. I was in fact, quite disappointed when I googled it and found out that it was designed by Philippe Starck. Whose designs I normally admire. Then again. He has actually designed the toilet bowl in our apartment. Makes perfectly sense to me when I see this ugly son-of-a-bitch yacht.


Actually, Mr. Chelsea was pretty friendly when we saw him in port last week. He actually nodded back to Mr. I when he experienced one of those incidents where you greet someone you see a lot on TV because you think it is somebody you really know. Well. He might not really be so friendly anymore. Roman's team lost to Arsenal the other day, so my dear husband keeps shouting these things over to his yacht (after dark, of course):

"Arsenal, Arsenal, Arsenal"
"Three one, three one, three one"
"Are you Tottenham in disguise?"
"Hey, you LOSER!"

Hm. I guess we are NOT invited over to the Eclipse for lunch anytime soon. I kindly asked Mr. I to keep it down as we thought we saw some possible missiles attached to the upper deck over there. I guess that means that fireworks on Friday might be quite spectacular.

Another quite particular thing that strikes you in Gustavia, are all the loving father-daughter relationships. I was trying on some extraordinary YSL sandals at Human Steps, when I got to see up close how very grateful the daughters were when their daddy bought them new shoes. If I did not know better, I would think they were - in fact - not family after all. Silly me.

This town is also one of the few places where you can overhear things in the boutiques like: "Oh, Jimmy Choo? Wasn't the owner of that brand at our party last night?" That surely does not happen when you go shopping at my local mall, for sure. Not that they carry Jimmy Choo anyway.

Talking of shoes. I hate to admit this, but even though I tried REALLY hard, I did not manage to find ANY shoes worth buying today. Even though I spent four hours browsing the shops. I really wanted to get this particular orange / summery handbag at Hermes, but it was SOLD OUT. Bummer. Financial crisis my a**. Well, I managed to do SOME damage. Have to support the local economy, you know.


Since I was really on a roll when I had to go back to the ship to get myself ready for dinner, I swiped my card again with the club director back on the ship. And booked TWo new itineraries. I am just totally out of control, I know. So, we will be spending a week onboard in the Med this summer. And then, if we are really lucky and manage to get some extra time off from work, we will go on the amazing yachting adventure down the Amazon in March 2012. For a month. A real once-in-a-lifetime expedition. We will see. Keeping my fingers crossed that it will really happen.

Dinner with the master of the vessel this evening. He is such a great guy, so we had a good time. As always. Dropped by the casino on our way to bed. Where we happened to DOUBLE our money. Yay! Made me feel somewhat better about today's spending spree, although I realize that 200 dollars will not really get me far on this month's credit card bill.


By the way. Where is the idiot that said that you can not have luck in BOTH love and gambling? Just look at that beautiful black-jack hat-trick.

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Location:Gustavia, St. Barthelemy, French West Indies

Saint Barfs

Finally. Now I have used all the shoes I brought. So. This is my THIRD pair of the Tory Burch Miller Thongs. And - last. In brown fake crocodile. Much more comfortable than the previous two in the same design. I think that might be not because these have been broken in, but perhaps because my FEET now has been broken in. Painful, but true.

This has not been a good morning. I have been seasick. Which is terrible. It just makes you want to die. Very temporarily though. The itinerary today was Saba in the morning, and St. Barths in the afternoon. We sailed past Saba. But the tender could not get in with the swell, so instead we had to go straight to shopping paradise. I immediately felt somewhat better.

Hopefully, the person that threw up all over the top deck last night also feels better by now. Classy. At least she was good-looking. Pre-puke, that is. Image surely is everything.

Now we are anchored outside of Gustavia. Apparently, this is THE place to be this week. If it would only stop raining. Please. It will be really expensive staying here for three days when there is nothing else to do than shop. Scary thought. Yet quite enthralling, too, I must admit.

The rumor this morning was that the big white yacht next to us - the Eclipse - belongs to Larry Ellison. The President of Oracle. Which to me would be like having a close encounter with God himself. Quite disappointingly, it was not. Oh no. It belongs to the guy I mentioned to you last week. Roman. The Chelsea-dude.

This guys apparently has the same relationship with his yachts as I do with my shoes. He collects them. So, today he is not on the Luna. I guess maybe the Eclipse goes better with the Villebrequins he is wearing today. Funny.


I think I should try to crawl out of our stateroom now. Get some fresh air. And some raindrops in my hair. A pity with this weather, as I should really have been working on my tan now. Well. I think things could be worse. Like the saying on this t-shirt I picked up for Mr. Incredible in St Johns.


Hm. I wonder if Roman ever gets seasick. I bet he has people that do that for him.

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Location:Gustavia, Saint Barthelemy, French West Indies

The small print

My navy blue Reva ballet flats. With silver logo. I guess I should not really mention the brand again, as it might seem I am running an advertisement campaign for Tory Burch these days. Haha. I wish. These were purchased to be used with jeans, but they work pretty well with my navy blue Monsoon shift dress as well. I am just about starting to realize that:

A) This vacation is way to short for the number of dresses I have brought.
B) I might have overpacked. Once again. What a surprise.

I still have two dresses in the wardrobe that have not been used. And quite a few I was hoping to use again. And now there are only four more nights to go! Disaster.

Anchored off Sandy Ground today. Charming little beach with the mandatory beach shack type of bar at the pier. VERY Caribbean indeed.


With assistance from Santa Claus a.k.a. Quintessentially, we managed to get into one of the best beach resorts on the island for the day, the CuisinArt. Even though it was fully booked. Priceless.

Before leaving the ship I wanted to print out our confirmation. To be on the safe side. So I logged on to my e-mail in the library on the ship, as I cannot print from my iPad/cabin. There was an interesting print queue on the network. With a long line of print jobs left over from last week. Among the topics were:

* Restaurants in St. Barths (ok, I guess)
* Weather forecasts (who actually prints those?)
* Ten-page article on ACID REFLUX (what?!)
* Black-jack for dummies (makes sense, I guess I should print that as well)
* Information about a certain type of psoriasis (holiday reading material?)

So. This is apparently the essence of what my fellow passengers have on their minds. When they are on vacation. I must say that I am slightly concerned. I really am.

Anyway. We got to the resort, and it had an amazing beach. Unfortunately, the hotel itself was not quite as amazing as you would have thought, with it being a member of the "Small Leading Hotels of the World". But - I am so easy to please, you know. At least when the sun is shining, and I can rest assured that there will be champagne as soon as I get back on the yacht.


Back on the ship we went for a swim off the back, to wash off some of the island dirt. Most of it acquired browsing through cupboard in local shop to get my mum her much appreciated local refrigerator magnet. She has quite a collection, I can assure you.

The refreshing dip-in-the-ocean was followed by champagne with our lovely Californian friends.

Ended the day with a quite romantic dinner with Mr. Incredible under the stars. Before hitting the casino. Very bad idea. In retrospect, I should rather have "wasted" my money shopping in St. Barths tomorrow afternoon, you know. A good thing we are not serious gamblers, though. Compared to what some others bet, we are playing with spare change. But on the other hand - my middle name is not "Chanel". As is the case with some of the REAL "glamazons" on this ship.


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Location:Sandy Ground, Anguilla, British West Indies

Blackjack!

This is starting to become a bit embarrassing. My second pair of Tory Burch Miller Thong sandals. And fifth pair of TBs used on this vacation. So far. I can't help it. I just adore this brand. And when I was finally able to get my hands on them after searching for them for a year, I just could not limit myself to one pair. Or two, for that sake. They look great, and they are comfortable. The leather in this particular design is a bit stiff to start with, but great after you have broken them in.

Back in St. John today. No way I am renting a car again today after our adventure last week. It was raining this morning. So we slept in. It is weird how you get more and more tired after a while on vacation. It seems the body suddenly closes down on you when it realizes that it is finally time to relax. And then suddenly all you want to do is sleep. So, I took a nap after breakfast. Then I slept on one of the Balinese dream beds on the top deck for a couple of hours before lunch. Then another nap back in the cabin after lunch. Being on vacation really is exhausting. I haven't even started reading any of the books I brought. Good thing we have another week to go.



Some of you might be wondering how many pairs of shoes I have brought with me on this particular trip. Any guesses? Well, you can see below what it looks like under our vanity table. Fifteen pairs of shoes. Carefully selected before our departure. Sixteen, if I include my new water shoes. Still - I managed to leave my favorite pair of Jimmy Choos back home. Truly annoying. But, hey, sixteen is not that great a number! If I was the dealer in black jack I would still have to draw on sixteen. So, maybe by the time this cruise is over, I will have a black jack. In shoes. Twenty-one pairs. It might happen, as I keep hearing great things about some amazing suede loafers in St. Barths. And you gotta love all the bling-bling sandals available in that same port. We'll see.



Talking of blackjack. I think I have been playing cards at the casino a bit too often lately. When I turn down a drink these days, I tend to follow up with the same hand gesture as in the casino when I do not want to be dealt more cards. Fortunately I haven't started scratching the table with my index finger, shouting "Hit me!" when I would like another drink. Yet.


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Location:Cruz Bay, St. John, US Virgin Islands

Hooters

Boxing Day. Disembarkation in St. Thomas. The cruise is over. Sad? Not really. As we are staying on for another week. Ha. Love doing back-to-back cruises, as it really takes a few days to totally unwind and settle properly on the ship.

My first time in St. Thomas. This used to be a Danish colony. So I was expecting open sandwiches and schnapps on every street corner. Nope. Although there are still signs of the Danish rule on the island, with the capital called Charlotte Amalie, the rest is very Caribbean. Except one thing. They have a ski lift on the island! A gondola that goes from the main cruise port to a place called Paradise Peak.

Of course. I just knew it. I actually FELT it this morning. There had to be a ski lift around. Being a Norwegian, I have a thing for ski lifts. If there is one, I have to be on it. So, off we went. In a super-taxi. There are so many taxis on this island, they need to do something to differentiate themselves, I guess. I did not really get what was so suuuper about it, though. Apart from the driver's collection of wunderbaum, perhaps.

Anyway. We got on the gondola. And enjoyed the magnificent view from the top. We could see our tiny little ship docked next to a monster ship in the distance. Cool.


At the top there was a bar specializing in frozen drinks. They had them all ready on tap! And - I got acquainted with a new drink. The Bushwacker. A frozen drink with Baileys. Caused some serious "brain freeze". Or, maybe just "freeze". After all, I am a blonde. And we are not really famous for our brain capacity.


After our sky ride, we went to the nearby shopping mall. Which had a huge shoe outlet. Oh, the terror! It was closed! So, to make at least one person in the family happy, I took husband for his first ever visit to Hooters. It is so tacky I just find it hilarious. The visit had very much the expected effect, and he soon had a huge grin on his face. And i guess that was not just because of the local beer. Yep. Then, when an exquisite selection from the Virgin Islands Fire Brigade suddenly arrived to have a late lunch, I was smiling too. I do not know what the thing is with some men in uniforms. But it totally works.


Before we left, I got my dear husband some really classy t-shirts from the Hooters shop:

"St. Thomas - Hooters of the Caribbean" (pirate style logo)
"Hooters Drinking Team, St. Thomas"

He has promised not to wear them on the yacht. But I will not be very surprised if he does.

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Location:Crown Bay, St. Thomas, US Virgin Islands

Who says you cannot buy happiness?

Christmas Day. And no need for shoes! Just my new Tom Ford sunglasses. Christmas present from dear husband.

We are still anchored in North Sound. Had to cancel going to Jost van Dyke today, as weather is bad over there. Well, who really cares. We are in a WARM place, and the sun is shining. I mean, why do people tend to believe that HELL is a warm place? Really, to me hell would rather be COLD. Oh well. Let's not change that now. I guess I have an idea where I will end up, so I'll be fine. May I bring a swimsuit?

What a day it has been! I just LOVE it when you get the tender ashore and you are greeted with smiling crew serving pina coladas on the dock. Time for the huge "Champagne & Caviar Splash" in the surf. By coincidence (and bad weather) we were joined by the Seadream II today - anchored in the same bay, so we had close to 200 happy people enjoying themselves on the beach. That is why they had both surfboards prepared with caviar. Normally there is one. Then the deal is that you have to jump in to get your caviar. And champagne. Pretty good. At least it makes ME happy. Very happy indeed.


The caviar was followed by a huge barbecue buffet prepared on the beach. Accompanied by reggae music by a local band. And finally, Santa arrived. On a wakeboard. Hilarious.


In the end I was so happy that I even agreed to go on the banana boat. Silly, as I never manage to get back up on that monster when I fall off it. Which I do. Of course. That is the whole point of going, isn't it?

Then. When you think everything is just perfect. It gets even better. My very special Christmas treat arrived. The "julebrus"* from my home town. It has had quite a journey to get there. It all started in Oslo in late September. By mistake, it ended up in Antigua, instead of San Juan. It was then shipped to another port, where it was picked up by our sister ship. And arrived in Virgin Gorda on Christmas Day. I was so happy. I even cried. This is Konrad posing with my second bottle for the evening. What a sugar rush. Good thing I have been loading carbs by eating my daily chocolate croissant for breakfast, or I would have ODed.


The julebrus surprise was followed by a terrific dinner, which was a special version of the "Menu Degustation" that is always served on the last night of a cruise. Spiced up with some Christmas dishes. And, we were accompanied by Mr. Perignon again! Our lovely new friends from Ventura, California, send a bottle over to our table at dinner. Once again, thank you!

Can a day be better than this? I do not think so. Really.

* http://dayinshoes.blogspot.com/2010/10/feliz-navidad.html

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Location:Virgin Gorda, British Virgin Islands

Santa baby

New sandals. Guess the brand? Tory Burch again. They were on sale. Unfortunately, the colour did not quite turn out the same as one the web, but they are still OFFICIALLY my very first pair of orange shoes. Perhaps the last, but I could never actually guarantee that, could I?

Christmas evening! Still in Virgin Gorda. We were scheduled to move to the other side of the island, to Spanish Town, today. But the swells are too big. I don't really mind, as we are in paradise. Talked to my parents on the phone just before their Christmas dinner. Miss them. But you cannot have it all. Was a bit funny telling them that I had to end the conversation to go put on a swimsuit for my Christmas swim in the ocean. Dad said that if he did the same at home he would freeze to death. So asked him not to. We had a temperature difference of 50 degrees Celsius between Hamar and Virgin Gorda at that time. Glad I was at the "good end" of that comparison.


I am a bit of a Christmas "junkie". I love this time of year. But I am having some difficulties getting into the true Christmas spirits. I am having a great time, but everything is so different. Still, I have:

1) Watched with great joy as the second humongous gingerbread house on the ship was set up in the lobby area. See picture above.

2) Smelled the Christmas tree. It is real PINE! In the Caribbean I find that really impressive.

3) Watched the Swedish cartoon "Karl Bertils julafton" on my iPad. Good old tradition. (We even watched "Dinner for one"* on YouTube the night before, as that is another Norwegian tradition.) Had to skip the Disney cartoon and "Three nuts for Cinderella", as the DVDs I had brought do not work on the player in our stateroom. Rookie mistake, I know.

4) Did last panic shopping for Christmas gifts at ship boutique. Fortunately, they have a great selection there. We were not supposed to give each other anything this year, as the cruise is our gift to each other. But I just could not take not having one single gift to open. I am such a child.

By the way, we had lunch with our good old friend Mr. Perignon today. Lovely, as always.


The crew had a spectacular Christmas show in the lounge before dinner, which helped my Christmas mood to a new level. They had forgotten one really important song, though. I am especially fond of this verse here:

Santa honey, I wanna YACHT
And that's not really a lot
I've been an angel all year
Santa baby, and hurry down the chimney tonight

MERRY CHRISTMAS, EVERYBODY!

* http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dinner_for_One

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Location:Virgin Gorda, British Virgin Islands

The fat virgin

Another new pair of sandals purchased for Christmas. Part of the big Tory Burch pre-cruise shipment from Nordstroms. Still getting blisters as my feet are not yet getting used to wearing sandals at this of year. But I guess I will survive. After all, it is a lot better than wearing heavy winter boots and woolen socks.

The plan was to visit Anguilla today. But the weather at this time of year can be quite unpredictable. El Nino is causing three meter high swells in Anguilla, so I am very happy the captain changed the itinerary to avoid the bad weather. Which is just one of the many advantages of being on a yacht instead of a regular cruise ship.


Speaking of which. Dear Wind Surf/Spirit. Please, please, will you stop appearing in my port hole every morning. I know we used to be very close friends for nine years and thirteen cruises, but it is over now. Really. I travel with Seadream now, and I am not coming back. You surely are beautiful ships, but you cannot live on your good looks forever, you know. You never came up with any new itineraries, so no wonder we started looking at other ships. And now that I have gotten used to not having to sign checks and add tips for every two-dollar can of diet coke I buy, there is no turning back. You know that. You also know that I feel a little pang of guilt when you keep turning up every morning. We surely have had a lot of fun together. I will never forget that. But - go away now, will you. Shush!


Virging Gorda, or the "fat virgin". Quite a funny name for an island. Apparently, she was named by some Spanish sailors that thought the island looked like a naked woman lying down. We really tried giving it our best at breakfast today, but we simply do not see what those sailors saw. I guess they had been at sea for a while, and hadn't really seen a woman at all in quite a while. Otherwise you would not simply look at an island and go "Heeeeey! Boooooobs!" Men are simple creatures, but that would be taking it a bit too far. Perhaps they had a taste of some "local tobacco" to help their imagination, without going into further detail.

We are anchored in the North Sound, right outside the Bitter End Yacht Club. Really nice and relaxing place. And - most importantly - very calm water. Ever tried sleeping on your side during rough seas? Challenging.

Time for cocktail party for alumni passengers. More champagne, and - even better - CAVIAR buffet. Including proper blinis and the works. I guess I do not have to tell you, I just LOVE that stuff. Delightfully decadent.

I could definitely get used to living like this. Beating the current alumni record of 381 days on board should be a blast. I hereby volunteer to take on that "job".

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Location:Virgin Gorda, British Virgin Islands

Paraffin

My new Tory Burch Reva ballet flats. Black with gold logo. Love the fact that Saks has finally started shipping to Norway. Yay.

Another great day in St. Barts. Anchored right next to the Luna. Owned by a guy named Roman something. You might have heard of him. He owns a football club. Chelsea, I think it is.

Anyway. We enjoyed a late breakfast (Italian style Eggs Benedict) before a short 10 minute tender ride ashore. The rest of the morning was spent touring the island on quad bikes with fellow passengers. Great fun. I refuse bringing a practical backpack when sightseeing, so that is my cute little LV Speedy you can see strapped to the back of my bike. Extremely versatile piece of luggage.


Did not make it back to ship in time for lunch, so decided to eat in the port of Gustavia. Great choice. You simply cannot go wrong ordering rock lobster and a bottle of Louis Roederer, can you? Well. Actually, I am getting a bit tired of lobster at the moment. Guess I should stay off it for a few days. This surely is a tough life.


Left husband at a bar in town and went shopping after lunch. There are so many nice shops around. There is nothing in particular on my shopping list right now, so I just ended up buying a few souvenir t-shirts and a new pair of speedos for husband. NOT the kind of speedos you might be visualizing right now, I can assure you. They actually do make NICE swimwear as well.

St. Barts is a famous yacht harbor. Very similar to St. Tropez. It is quite entertaining walking around watching the names people give their yachts. There really are quite a few people in this world with far too much money on their hands. I guess you have named quite a few yachts in your time when you get as far down the list of names as this one.


Paraffin. Oh well. Why not?

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Location:Saint Barthelemy, French West Indies

Getting into the zone

The newest member of my shoe family. My brand new water shoes, picked up at Crabby's in Coral Bay yesterday. I am not a very brave swimmer, and I hate walking on the bottom if there is just a tiny chance that I might step on something dangerous. Like a tine piece of seaweed. I just hate that. So these have been on my shopping list for a while now.


Saba island. Time for our first snorkeling adventure on this trip at some place called "Whole in the corner". It is weird how floating around looking at fish totally calms you down. I could do that for hours, it is very therapeutical. Almost like meditation.

Well. Except, I guess it is perhaps not SO "zen" getting pieces of fire coral down your cleavage while snorkeling. THAT stings, I can tell you. Fortunately, the dive instructor had some vinegar available to put on it, as I was not too interested in the other option. Although quite a few fellow passengers volunteered to pee on me to neutralize the burn. Thanks, guys. Lovely of you.

After lunch and a much needed shower (I smelled like a salad after having marinated myself in vinegar), we lounged on one of the Balinese sun beds up on deck six. Husband very soon fell asleep, while I was watching two seagulls flying alongside the ship. For two hours. You should apparently not underestimate the entertainment value of seagulls fishing for food.

Arrived in St. Barts at five PM, and jumped on the first tender into port. Looked like everybody else were sleeping off their lunch, as we had the place pretty much to ourselves. The champagne selection in a port like this is pretty impressive, although insanely expensive. Shared a bottle of Perrier Jouet Belle Epoque while watching the sunset. Back on the ship we had dinner with the cruise director, before attending a small impromptu champagne party at the Top Of the Yacht (TOY) bar.

I am now starting to get very much into my vacation "zone". Which reminds me. What day did you say it was again?

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Location:Saba, Dutch Antilles

The Virgin Island Rally

Anchored off St. John today. Had decided to rent a car for the day. I am not really sure if we would have done it if we knew what was awaiting, but we felt like being a bit adventurous.

All the drivers went over to the rent-a-car place to register as soon as we got off the tender, while passengers waited patiently at the harbor. I was, strangely enough, the only female driver.

When I was told that we would get 4x4 vehicles, I was expecting a cute little jeep. Oh no. As you know, everything is big in America. That includes the US Virgin Islands as well. I got a monster of an SUV. I think we could park our BMW X3 in the trunk of it. Shit.

Picked up husband - who was now elected "wimp of the year" by his fellow passengers. Imagine. Letting the little (?) wifey drive. Outrageous. But I do have a regular driver's license. Not one of those that are stamped "valid only if male driver not available". Just so you know.

Anyway. We drove off. Not looking at map, we just figured the sign "Beaches" was a good indication we were on the right track. And some beaches it were! Pristine, white, sandy beaches. Just like in postcards. As there were quite a few cars parked at ll of them, we decided to drive further, to find a really secluded one on the north east side of the island. That was when we realized that the roads on this island were among the steepest we have ever seen. We do not have roads like that back home, as you would simply not be able to get up the hills during winter. I almost had a heart attack when we met a truck in a hairpin. And I had to stop in the middle of this steep hill to let it pass. Glad I was driving an automatic, as I would never have been able to get the car up the hill again had it been a manual. I am a fairly good driver, but nowhere near THAT good.

The secluded beach was in fact so secluded we did not find it. But it was a nice scenic drive, once I got used to the fact that the speed limit of 20 mph was there for a reason. Sometimes it was even down to 10.

Had an amazing lunch at Shipwreck's Landing, just off Coral Bay. Met some really interesting people, and had the best fried coconut shrimp.

As we got back on the ship, preparations for Christmas was well on their way. The are proper Christmas trees in the reception, and in the piano bar. Love it! And - the pastry chef had spent days working on this piece. The gingerbread pagoda:



Pretty amazing? It even has little buddhas and all! I have had this tradition of building husband a gingerbread miniature of the Oslo Stock Exchange since back in business school. This tradition has been "sleeping" for a couple of years now, but when I saw this amazing piece of art I decided to bury that tradition. On the spot. As I could never compete with something like this. Now that he has seen what can actually be done with gingerbread, his expectations will be too high. And I hate disappointing him.

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Location:St. John, USVI

All aboard II

My Brand new Tory Burch sandals. Miller Thong in black patent leather. Just love them. Not possible to get hold of in Norway, but managed to order them from Nordstroms and have them sent to me through a forwarding service in New Jersey. Very convenient.

Time for embarkation. After spending the morning at the RL store up the street. We checked out of the hotel just in time to celebrate the Norwegian gold medal in the European Handball Championship. Tapas and sangria at La Picoteo. Would have been a perfect occasion for champagne, but unfortunately our old friend Mr. Perignon was nowwhere to be seen. Even though he was a monk, and this was - after all - a convent. Looks like we can stop worrying about the financial crisis when hotels are SOLD OUT of Dom P. Hoorray.

Of course - we managed to pick up our luggage from storage at the very same time as our twenty fellow countrymen (and women). They were now even more "up there", as they were about to gather all of their luggage, including their golf bags, to get to the pier in time. To embark on their biiiig ship. I found it quite amusing when they talked about how they had neeeeever even heard about our tiiiiiiny little ship. Although they even knew people that worked for a cruise line. Can you imagine?

There was much whining about how painful the embarkation process would be. How the luggage would arrive late, and most probably not in time to get dressed for dinner. There would be long lines of grumpy and rude fellow passengers. Warm and uncomfortable.

Oh well. Although I wanted to tell the poor woman a thing or two, I just smiled and nodded sympathetically. Like I could relate to whatever she was whining about. Totally. Sometimes I am a good girl and manage to keep my mouth shut.

Then we left. All twenty of them still outside the hotel in the heat waiting for the one missing golf bag.

OUR embarkation process was more like this:

0150 PM: Taxi to pier.
0200 PM: Arrival at pier, porter takes care of luggage.
0205 PM: Security screening.
0210 PM: Walking up gangway of Seadream I to greet the Captain.
0211 PM: Refreshing cold towel and champagne.
0215 PM: Canapés in lounge, while waiting to check in.
0225 PM: Neck massage while waiting.
0230 PM: Check-in (deliver passport, take photo, swipe Amex)
0235 PM: Enter cabin 205, where all luggage is lined-up.
0236 PM: Open our complimentary demi-bouteille of champagne.
0238 PM: Decorate cabin for Christmas with ornaments, lights and tree.
0240 PM: Husband lounges on sofa, while I unpack all luggage.
0320 PM: Luggage unpacked and stored. Champagne bottle empty.

I simply have no idea what that woman back at the hotel was complaining about. Some people are just never happy, right?




- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Location:San Juan, Puerto Rico

Holy cow

This might come as a shock to many of you, but I very recently joined a convent. Our hotel was built as a Carmelite convent for nuns in the 1500s. Fortunately, the amenities have been updated over the years, so the place is now among the most interesting hotels in San Juan. Also, it is situated two minutes away from the Ralph Lauren outlet store. In other words - unbeatable location.

The hotel has this beautiful patio with a small dipping pool, and a view of the bay. Being somewhat jet lagged, we had breakfast with our blue-haired fellow guests at 8 AM. Even though the place served breakfast until 11.30 AM, a proof that San Juan has a great nightlife. After breakfast, we went up to the nice and quiet spot to relax, and get some sun.

Well. How long was Eve in paradise? At around eleven, hordes of loud obnoxious people started pouring in. Strutting about with their Louis Vuitton monogram bags. We are talking TONS of them. All the time going on about how many "doillars" everything cost. And - how real men do not ever drink water. Just beer.

Yikes. I looked at my dear husband and I could tell we were thinking the very same thing: Please, please, please, let these people go on a different cruise than ours. We just can' t take this bunch of loudmouths. Please!

Our prayers were heard. Even though we are not very religious. I guess it was the fact that we were staying in the convent, in combination with the catholic church next door with all the "espirito santo blahblah" that was partly reflected on us. The whole family - all twenty of them- in their matching handbags and leopard print bikinis were to go on the Adventure of the Seas. Wheeeew! I am not really a snob, but puh-lease! I do have limits.

Now you are perhaps assuming that the group were Americans. Oh no. They were Norwegian, alright. Which made it all the more embarrassing. I always thought we were mostly a well-behaved nationality, but apparently not when we arrive in large numbers. From Østfold. With love.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Location:San Juan, Puerto Rico

The Mile High Club

Ha. Got your attention there, didn't I? Moahaha. You filthy pig. Well. Hate to disappoint you, but flying is not that "romantic". Really.

Departed from Oslo at 5 AM, arrived at our destination 23 hours later. With all of our luggage. Not bad.

Flying is kinda boring. But somehow, I never have any problems getting the time to pass. Oslo - Stockholm was easy. We were even upgraded to Economy Extra. Then the long haul. From Stockholm to "The Windy City", Chicago. The city named after the band. A nine hour flight. Plenty of time to update blog, catch up on what is happening on the silver screen and start a new book. And by any means, NOT sleep. Need. To. Stay. Awake. I normally do not struggle so much with jet lag, but still it is wise to stay awake on daytime flights.

Well. I surely am a girl full of good intentions. Even though you might think otherwise of me. We got upgraded again. To business. Which I haven't flown in ten years. Cool. So, the trip was more like this:

Stockholm/boarding: A glass of champagne? Yes, please!

Stockholm - Trondheim: Get familiar with all the funny buttons and gadgets in your seat. Once properly reclined, spend time looking out window on winter landscape.

Trondheim: Second glass of champagne.

Trondheim - Reykjavik: Food extravaganza, including whitefish roe, beef Bourgogne, cheese platter and two desserts. The latter thanks to husband catering to my every whim. He - very observantly - saw the looks I sent the sorbet selection after already getting a solid helping of chocolate cake. All of the above accompanied by wine.

Reykjavik: Yours truly reclines further. And - the inevitable happens. I pass out. Completely.

Somewhere over Canada: Wakes up. Shit! Not enough time left to watch BOTH of the movies I planned to see. Start seeing "Salt", starring the less interesting half of Brangelina. Bad choice. Watching a movie that mostly goes on in the dark is not easy on an inflight screen. So. I know that there was a lot of fighting. And got most of the story, by listening to the dialogue. But I still do not know who the REAL villain was, as....

Lake Ontario: Crayfish and roast beef sandwich.

All of a sudden we landed in Chicago. Funny how time flies in business class. I guess the morale is that you live longer if you fly monkey class. At least it feels that way.

A proof we got when we had to endure four hours from Chicago to our final destination in the class originally booked. Funny how easily you get used to life on the sunny side. Sitting behind the curtain for four hours felt like four DAYS. Managed to stay awake on this stretch playing Monopoly and Trivial Pursuit on iPad for four hours straight. Painfully boring. Score ended with a draw for the trivia, while husbands business skills, or my extensive shopping obsession (bought all the streets I landed on) sent me straight into bankruptcy.

Our luck turned when checking into hotel. We got upgraded to the Honeymoon Suite. Lovely. And - huge. As in most honeymoon suites, the bed is really squeaky, and when you move around, the headboard bangs into the wall, making a nice thumping sound for the neighbors to hear. Cute touch.

Less cute is the fact that it is located two floors up from the salsa bar. Which announces daily live performances. Loud performances. Until 2 AM. Very exotic. Especially since the band starts rehearsals again at 7 AM.

Still, I slept like a log.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Location:Cll Las Monjas,San Juan,Puerto Rico

Looking good - on paper

No shoes to show today. I currently LIVE in my biker boots*, as they can fit two pairs of woolen socks. Instead I give you this happy little family. Directly from our bookshelf. Looks a bit like us. In the future. I hope.

Huge milestone today. We have now prepared the very first part of our adoption application. Finally. During this first round we need to gather a long list of official documents from the Norwegian authorities to get approved. Only to present these very same documents to what I guess can somehow be seen as.... THE VERY SAME authorities. To me, this whole process of gathering all those pieces of paper feels a bit useless. In my mind, they should really have all these facts about us on file - somewhere. That way they should be able to simply look us up on some computer, like when doing a credit check, and get all the facts on the table. Obvious facts like:

• We are - indeed - Norwegian citizens. How on earth else could you grant us our Norwegian passports? Duh.
• We do have an income, and we do pay taxes. This is not always done with a lot of pleasure, I must admit, but I do not think that matters. We do pay. Sometimes a lot.
• We even do have a registered address. This should be PRETTY OBVIOUS to the authorities, as this is where they send the letters regarding the above taxes. Double-duh.
• Yeah, we´re married. Which should be well-known to the authorities, as it actually affects the taxes we pay. If necessary, we may even provide 80 witnesses to testify to the whole thing. Would have been a great opportunity for a new party, though! Anyway, who said that marriage is a guarantee that you will stay together for life, anyway? Of course, WE will. But - still.
• We are both law-abiding citizens. At least as far as the police knows. Haha. After the tax free quota for wine was increased to 3 liters I stopped my habit of always bringing that extra "above-the-quota" bottle of wine home when traveling. I have always been one to push boundaries (right!), but I just cannot carry more than four bottles. And - with the speed limit on some highways being increased to 100 km/h, I mostly keep within the speed limit as well. Observant people will see that I have not really become a better person. I am just less of a criminal as the rules have provided some more slack. Awesome. Don't I make you proud?
• We do not have any major health issues. I am so relieved to hear that I may actually be considered to be great parent material - EVEN THOUGH I DO WEAR GLASSES! Can you imagine? These people really do have low standards. Fortunately, the doctor did not mention that I could benefit from loosing some (more) weight. I mean, that surely would make me a better mum, wouldn't it? By the way, I am glad we both have all of our limbs intact. Imagine what could have happened if not. It would be the worst ever version of the not-so-politically-correct "no arms, no cake" joke, wouldn't it?

The documentation above should prove that we are both acceptable parent material, even though nature has concluded that our joined genes are not worthy of being brought forward to future generations. I fully understand that this process is there to protect the children given up for adoption. And to make the adoption as successful as possible, by matching the "right" parents to the "right" child. I so totally get that, I really do. Still, I must admit that sometimes I can not help thinking that having to go through all of this is SO bl***y unfair. We have to prove that we are "perfect" parents. While any totally irresponsible teenager can go out, get drunk, have sex with some idiot, end up pregnant and have a child. "By accident". Smashing. Just smashing.

Anyway. The next phase is what I consider a more important part of the process. This is the part that goes beyond the plain "socio-economic" facts. We will go through several interviews with a social worker, ending up with a social report evaluating our capabilities as parents and care-takers. I am actually looking forward to that part of the process, as I think it will raise some important questions that we need to think through anyway. We went through an adoption preparation course last winter, so - of course - we have been through a lot of the important discussions. But - we must be prepared that things will surely not be just a walk in the park. Then again, life will never be just easy with your "biological" offspring either, I'm sure.

The last part of our application was choosing which country to apply from. This has been really difficult. Because, frankly, I do not really care that strongly about where the child comes from. I would happily take on a Martian, green and with antennas and all, if I just knew that it would happen. And - preferably - soon. I would not say that I am a very patient person. I am more of an "instant gratification" kind of girl. If I want something - I get it. NOW. Or - preferably - YESTERDAY. Needless to say, all this waiting is killing me. I have had three years waiting for my pregnancy tests to come out positive. It did. On the very first try. Then never to happen again. So my patience is wearing thin here.

The countries that we are allowed to choose from, given our age and (lack of) religious beliefs are: China, Colombia and - possibly - Madagascar. Since we both have university degrees, we might also be allowed to apply from Peru. I think it is weird to be considered to be more eligible parent material in a particular country simply because we both have degrees in finance, but the world has never really been fair, has it? Still, I do find it strange, though. As I had the most amazing childhood growing up with my two incredible non-academic parents.

Well. Today we had a session with the councellor of our adoption organisation. Who wisely told us to choose with our hearts. And not look at the estimated waiting times, as these do change over time. It really does not matter either, if you need to wait three months longer to get the perfect one that was meant just for you. So - we put all the "rational" aspects aside and searched deep within our hearts.

And the descision is.... China! Ta-dah! (Drum whirls!)

China is the country we have talked about "forever". I do not know what it is, but it just FEELS right. Even though the four-year wait really scares me. I know this will all be worth it the day I can hold our child in my arms. I apologize for being sappy. But I cry very easily just thinking about that moment.

In the mean time - I will drink lots of champagne, buy mountains of shoes (and handbags!) and continue to see as much of the world as I can. Not that I will by any means completely stop doing any of this when our loveable little violin-playing, algebra-loving, chess-playing, athletic, and in any way talented little genious arrives.

If we get approved by the Norwegian and Chinese authorities - that is. For now - we will just have to wait and see.

* http://dayinshoes.blogspot.com/2010/09/post-kick-off-stress-syndrome.html

After the war

I know this is not by far shoe related. But I thought I should document what our place looks like BEFORE and AFTER the Midtvintersblot. Fortunately, we hire help. That takes care of the dishes. Otherwise, it would have looked much, much worse...

Before

After

Fortunately, it did not take a long time to clean up. The real bottle-neck is the dishwasher. Last batch of glasses was run on Monday night. Just in time for me to start packing for upcoming Christmas vacation....

Yay!

Fairytale of Oslo

Shoes bought for office Christmas party two years back. From Swedish brand Rizzo. Painful to walk in, but make my feet look smaller than the transvestite-size 41 that I use. I hope. I tend to get a blue toe-nail from time to time using them, though. But beauty takes suffering, or something like that.

The Midtvintersblot. A highlight of the year. For us - it just would not be Christmas without it. The ingredients of a perfect Midtvintersblot are:

• 22 adorable human beings: We invite quite a few more, but it seems the "equilibrium" of the supply/demand for this party is just over 20. Which is practical, as we can not cram more than 24 people into our dining room. Otherwise we would have to go for more than one seating. People fly in from London and Trondheim not to miss this "happening", something we really appreciate.
• A huge kettle with very strong gløgg: This is vital to get a proper party lift-off. The white gløgg was a success this year as well, and everybody got quite happy. No wonder, as Mr. I added a bottle of white rum to it while I was not paying attention. Same procedure as every year. I was happy to hear that this year EVERYBODY liked the concoction that we had put together. This meaning that we will - in fact - go for the same recipe again next year. With ALMONDS.
• Lutefisk - and the works: Dried cod treated with lye might not sound like something you would love, but it is tradition. And - a bit of an acquired taste. This was the 11th year, and it was perhaps the first time I actually liked it (I still finished my ginger-bread on the side, though). Adding a lot of beer and aquavit also helps the lutefisk go down more easily. Although, with my history with aquavit, I stick to white wine. I do manage to be sensible. Sometimes.
• Riskrem (rice cream) with raspberry sauce: This is always the last thing to finish before the guests arrive, and is always the reason I am still doing my make-up when people arrive. It is the most Christmassy dessert you can have. In addition to cloudberry cream, but I am not much of a berry-picker. So rice it is. With proper vanilla seeds. Served with a fairly nice port.

Then we sing. Loudly. While linking arms and rocking side-to-side. It is all very-very cosy-cosy.

1. Jussi Björling: O helga natt
2. The Pogues: Fairytale of New York
3. Hans Rotmo: Vårres Jul

During the whole meal, we tell stories from our daily lives from the past year. Which for some reason seem to be quite similar from year to year. About encounters with angry bears, old sami gentlemen, Finnish people - and women from up north. All building up our christmas spirit to new levels.

After dinner we walk around the Christmas tree. Most of us. By this stage, some have either left (the sensible ones) - or are sound asleep somewhere in the apartment. Proving that it IS true that you get sleepy eating fish. The Christmas tree is always a big thing, and we spend a whole evening decorating it. Which can sometimes be a bit depressing when you discover it leant up against a wall in the hall the morning after your big party. Oh, well. Bygones.

This year we skipped buying a tree, as we would not get much out of it when being away over Christmas. So - I tried to get hold of an inflatable one. No such luck, though. Instead I got this awesome (!) Christmas tree outfit. The plan was to get the person that got the "most happy" during dinner to dress up in it. Which he did. Unfortunately, he totally peaked just after that, and we did not really feel like waking him up. Poor guy. Must have been awfully warm sleeping in that. I should perhaps add that it does not just LOOK as if the tree is actually STANDING on our dining table. He really is. I almost had a heart attack right then and there.

Anyway. This is about how much I can tell you. We got the champagne out at this stage, and the rest is - as they say - history. I can, however, reveal that there was a marriage proposal at 4 AM that morning. Somewhere in Oslo. Apparently the gløgg was quite efficient this year. Congratulations to the happy couple!

Even though Christmas party season is a fun time of year, I am actually a bit relieved that it is all over now. I am not aware of any upcoming parties for at least a month or more now. I think my body will appreciate that, the poor little thing.

You´re a bum you´re a punk 
You´re an old slut on junk 
Lying there almost dead on a drip in that bed 
You scumbag you maggot 
You cheap lousy faggot 
Happy christmas your arse I pray god it´s our last. *

* http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fairytale_of_New_York

Bibbido-bobbido-bad hair day...

My Pedro Garcia party shoes. Picked them up at the January sales during year-end reporting for the big oil company in Stavanger two years ago - at Rolfsen. Great shop. I must warn you - Stavanger is a very expensive, but nice, place to go shopping. These are shoes that should make every girl feel like a princess. Even though she's just another nerd in a frock. Well. Sometimes they work like that, and sometimes - they just DON'T.

As I had to get my hair cut for my upcoming vacation anyway, I figured I should get my hairdresser to do my hair for the office Christmas party while he was at it. Stuuuupid mistake. Don't get me wrong. I have THE BEST hairdresser, I really do. But I tend not to like my hair much when it is too "done". So my curly sixties-style back-combed thing did not do much for my self confidence, I will tell you that much. I actually wanted to CRY when I looked myself in the mirror, as it was not "me". At all. What a great way to start your evening!

As there was no time left to re-wash and blow-dry hair once I got home to get changed, I just had to cut my losses and go out in public looking like a freaky Marilyn Monroe wannabe. I "just" had to pick the right dress. Turned out to be a bit of a problem. Had four alternatives lined up when I left for work in the morning. I normally love all four of them, but as I did not look anything like myself with the stupid fluffy hair, I decided that they were either:

• Too boring (I am still recovering from the navy blue airport incident)
• Too pink

Three of them showed too much cleavage, while three showed off my nice and flappy bingo wings just perfectly. Great. So I went for the newest dress - purchased for new year's in St. Barths. The only one that hid the flaps, although being a bit too revealing in other areas. Great. Did not feel very comfortable. At all. But did not have the time to do anything about it.

So - what is a girl to do when she feels like S.H.I.T.? She tries to get by as well as she can. Generally, there are two options:

• Suffer through the evening and hope nobody notices
• Get far too drunk, far too early

I decided to go for the - obvious - FIRST option. If there is a party where you would like to try to stay decently sober and not make a complete ass of yourself, it is the office Christmas party. So, it is not that I did not have the right intentions upon arrival. Really, I don't know where it all went wrong, but somehow it did. Terribly. I guess I should have picked up the first sign when I shared a lobster tail rolled in a potato tortilla ("Heeeeey, læfsbuss!") with the gentleman sitting next to me. Lady-and-the-tramp style. Biting off each our end. REAL classy. Thinking about it still makes me cringe.

THAT was the exact time when a little green creature on my shoulder should have told me to get my ass home. Unfortunately, I do not know such a creature. Being very aware of this fact, my best male friend (excluding Mr. I) had volunteered in advance to send me a text message during the evening telling me to take it easy. He did. Bad thing I did not check my phone until 02.19 AM. By that time I guess I had been talking everyone's ears off/been generally obnoxious for hours already. And kept going at it for another hour or so. Niiice.

I am actually quite glad that I most probably will not have to go into the office again until late January. By that time I hope nobody will really remember. Or - I hope - even care.