Today we were supposed to be in Sorento.  We’re going to Naples instead.  There’s not really a storm outside at the moment, but as the captain explained last night, the seas are too rough for passengers to be rocking from ship to shore in tenders.  That’s not a big deal for us.  We’re currently taking a vacation from our vacation and had cancelled today’s shore excursion before the itinerary was changed.

Tonight, rather than going to the regular restaurant for dinner, we have a reservation in La Dame, a very small and intimate dining room on Deck 7, just down the hall from us.

This is our seventh Silverseas Cruise, and our seventh cruise onboard this ship, the Silver Whisper.  I don’t know if I blogged in detail about our first cruise adventure, but in this instance, as my mother would say, perhaps it’s worth chewing my cabbage twice.

Our first cruise was to the Norwegian Fjords, starting and ending in Copenhagen.  We had booked an extra night at a hotel in Copenhagen at the beginning of the trip, and that was the only thing that saved us.

On the day of our original departure, we had checked in for our British Air flight and were in the departure lounge when they announced that the flight had been cancelled.  I went out and got in line at the ticket counter in hopes of rebooking while Bill went downstairs to retrieve our luggage.  Rebooking took three hours and by the time Bill collected our luggage and brought it upstairs, he had hurt himself, reigniting an old back injury.  We flew out on Delta the next day, flying through Amsterdam.  Bill’s back was in a world of hurt.  When we got to Amsterdam, we had to go from one end of that massive airport to the other, and none—not one—of the moving sidewalks was moving.  By the time we finally made it to our gate, we were among the last people to board, and Bill was in worse shape than ever.  When we finally reached the ship in Copenhagen, we were among the last people to board.  Whew!

As we were checking in, I asked if there was any availability for the small dining room, then called La Champagne.  There was one reservation available—for that night—and we grabbed it.

On board the Silver Whisper, there are hand rails up and down the hallways, and those were lifesavers.  By using them Bill was able to get back and forth from our suite to the elevators and to the dining room.

Incidentally, later that afternoon during the muster exercise out on deck, I heard the words Man Overboard uttered during the safety briefing.  So in case anybody is wondering where I get my ideas, there’s one.

That night, when we went to dinner we were absolutely jubilant.  Yes, Bill’s back was bad, but we had made it—despite all the odds, we were on board!  So we were in high spirits and a celebratory mood.  One of our fellow diners was not.  As noted above La Champagne, now known as La Dame, is a very small room.  One of the guests in the room that night—an ugly American, I regret to say—was not a happy camper.  He sent back not one, not two, not three, but FOUR bottles of wine before the last one finally measured up to his exalted expectations!  There was nothing about the food or the service that was good enough for him.  He complained throughout the dinner, and when he finally took his leave, everyone in the room breathed a sigh of relief.

In the meantime, Bill and I were busy enjoying everything in sight. That evening, June 22, happened to be the anniversary of the day we met years earlier.  At the beginning of dinner, our waiter had asked if we were celebrating anything, and we mentioned that it was our anniversary.  When it came time for dessert, our waiter serenaded us with a delightful operatic solo, and at the end of that, when we were leaving, the entire crew of waitstaff in the room autographed our menus.

The whole evening was magic.  Just typing the story now, has made me smile.  We never got off the ship that cruise.  Bill’s back simply wasn’t up to it.  We enjoyed watching the scenery pass by from our deck and were thankful to be able to do that.  And the crew onboard the ship took great care of us.  There’s nothing like great service to turn customers into repeat customers.

So tonight we’ll return to the now renamed restaurant one last time.  The Whisper will be continuing on a world cruise, I believe, and when that’s over, the ship is headed to dry dock for a complete refurbishing.  I expect we’ll be back on this ship again in the future, but I also suspect that when we return, that small dining room will be much changed.

That means tonight’s dinner will be a hail and farewell of sorts.

Boun Appetito.