All I wanted was a quiet cup of herbal tea and a sweet croissant while gazing out over the ocean. But they stole my table. How rude! I felt cheated, disrespected, and a little angry.
I was tired. I love travel and I love Glenda, my wife. But traveling can be tiring and traveling with another, regardless of how compatible you are, can be more so. In our case, advancing age and my beloved’s failing vision and fading memory add more weight to the tiring equation. She can no longer see well enough to read directing signs and her short-term memory has no room for such details as cabin number and location. She can’t read menus or labels. As you can guess, that means that I accompany her any time we are out. We had enjoyed our morning of being out and about on this, our third day at sea, but now she wanted an afternoon nap. Even though tired, I don’t usually nap, but her napping means she gets the rest she needs. I get a few minutes on my own without feeling guilty.
Perfect timing. It was afternoon tea time. I’ll take my notebook and write a bit about the trip as I watch the Adriatic slip by beneath us.
Our ship, the Costa Deliziosa, offered an afternoon tea. Along with a variety of beverages, it included pastries and small finger sandwiches. I guess it’s not acceptable for their guests to experience any hunger between the sumptuous luncheon and decadent dinner they provide. Afternoon tea was offered in the buffet dining room located aft on the 9th deck, three decks above our stateroom.
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| Aft Deck Costa Deliziosa in Port. Photo by author. |
The Deliziosa is a beautiful ship of the Panamax class—the largest ships that can pass through the locks in the Panama Canal. She sails at 93,000 tons, 965 feet long and 106 feet wide. She has 11 decks and carries a crew of near 1,000. Just mature enough for the blush of newness to be worn away and replaced by a patina of familiar comfort, she can accommodate nearly 2,300 passengers in luxury suites, premium balcony mini-suites, window staterooms, and mid-deck economy cabins. Her offerings include casino, theater, shopping, lounges, discotheque, pools, spas, and gymnasium as well as dining, outdoor recreation, sunning, and promenade areas. Government restrictions due to COVID-19 meant our seven-day voyage from Trieste Italy to Greece and back provided passage for only about 1,400 passengers, leaving the ship’s facilities uncrowded. This provided some additional level of luxury. For instance, there was rarely a wait for an elevator. Buffet lines were short.
The elevator ride from our 6th deck mini-suite to the 9th deck took moments. I strolled the carpeted hallway to the buffet dining area at the back of the ship.
A young and attractive uniformed hostess greeted me, “Good day, sir. Are you joining us for afternoon tea?”
I nodded.
“Welcome. Please let me verify your Costa identity card, and I will check your temperature.”
Holding the small touchless infrared fever thermometer near my forehead, she said, “Very good, sir. Normal. Where would you like to sit?”
“May I please have a window seat?”
“Certainly, sir.”
She escorted me to a window table, starboard near the middle of the dining area. As we approached the table, I noted there were no other unoccupied window tables.
“Will this be OK?” she asked.
“Certainly. Thank you,” I said, smiling.
Perfect, I thought. I was already feeling better looking forward to a few quiet moments at the table by the window aboard the Deliziosa.
Glad I arrived when I did, I left my notebook and pen on the table and went to the buffet line where I selected some hot herbal tea and a sweet roll.
Upon my return, I found my table occupied by three women I didn’t know, and my notebook casually moved to an inboard, non-window table. They were deep in conversation. One of the women was probably close to my age, slight with a full head of white hair. The others were younger, perhaps in their forties. One, Rafaelian with long blonde hair, the other darker complected, her brown hair worn in a short cap style, slighter in build. No. I didn’t know these women. I stopped and stared in disbelief. They had taken my table. Well, it was a prime spot. Looking around I verified no other window tables available. I sighed and went to retrieve my notebook. I guess I can sit somewhere else. But on top of tired, now I’m feeling pissed. I wanted that table!
As I retrieved my notebook from the adjacent but less desirable table, I turned toward the women, hoisting my colorful notebook for all to see, and said loudly, disgust dripping from my voice, “Really!” As they gazed agog, heads swiveled my way at the loud interruption, their conversation on mute, I slapped the notebook onto my tray and stomped away to a table out of sight of these thieving women. How dare they? Why can’t I have what I want?
As I settled in at my second-class table, the taste of the hibiscus tea was unexpectedly bitter. The croissant dry. I wondered why. These foods had been truly delightful yesterday. As I pondered the situation, it occurred to me I had been churlish. My taste buds were telling me I had no need of complaint. So what if I’m not at a window table? Big deal. I’m on a luxury voyage and in complete comfort. I have a treat of pastry and tea and some quiet time. The deep blue sea is still visible out the slightly distant windows.
I must have blushed a bit from deserved shame at my reaction to a trivial and non-personal slight. Those women did not deserve the wrath I directed at them. They may not even have been guilty of moving my notebook. It could have been the action of a busser or steward, anyone, leaving an unoccupied table for them to find. My feelings were muddled. I had so recently felt righteous indignation. Now I felt contrite embarrassment.
Stewing in my state of confusion, I opened my notebook, reviewing the last couple of pages with the thought of penning a few words to settle me and assuage my feelings. As I glanced down the lines a shadow fell over the pages. The older of the three women from the stolen table had approached.
Before I could speak, she said, “We took your table. We are so sorry. Let us trade places and you can have the window table.”
“Oh!” I said apologetically, looking up from my inferior position. “Thank you, but no. I’m the one who should be sorry and must apologize. I should not have overreacted the way I did. It’s really nothing. Please enjoy your teatime. I’m fine here.”
“But we moved your notebook. We should have realized it meant the table was occupied but instead we just assumed someone had left it behind. Please come take the table you wanted.”
“That’s very kind of you. I do appreciate it. But I feel bad I acted the way I did. I’m fine, now, really.”
On that note, she nodded then walked away. I returned to my notebook. Before I could settle my feelings enough to concentrate on the written words, three shadows fell across my table.
“No,” spoke the blonde woman forcefully. “You are not going to sit here by yourself while we enjoy your window table. You take that table, and we’ll move over here. We insist.”
“That’s right, you tell him, Victoria,” said the dark-haired table thief. Turning to me she said, “We can’t enjoy the view knowing we took it from you.”
“No. No! I’m fine.” I insisted. “Really. It’s not a problem and I shouldn’t have been so upset. It’s just I was already feeling frustrated and tired, but that should not excuse my behavior. It was wrong.”
There was a slight pause.
“All right,” said blonde Victoria. “Then at least come and join us at the window table so that we don’t have to feel guilty all afternoon. You really don’t want to be responsible for ruining our entire afternoon by allowing us to wallow in our guilt, do you? Kristi, Norma, do you agree?”
“Oh, yes!” Exclaimed the older lady now identified as Norma.
“Positively,” said younger dark-haired Kristi. “It’s a win-win. You’ll be at a window table. We can feel we’ve done our penance. Oh, wait. I didn’t mean that sharing a table with you would be, somehow, penance, an unpleasant task…”
With that, I had to laugh. “Ok, ok,” I said, waving my hand in defeat. “I will be honored to join you at your table, and besides, now I feel obligated! By the way, now I know your names, you should know mine. I am Dan.”
And so, with that, I gathered up my tea and croissant and my notebook and moved to what was now their table. After such a painful introduction, the conversation flowed surprisingly well, thanks to the ice-breaking laugh Kristi conjured. All had a story to tell. Victoria and Kristi were sisters, traveling to gain some normality after the loss of their mother. Norma a new friend of theirs met onboard the Deliziosa. And all were booked on the same 7-day post-cruise tour of Italy Glenda and I would be enjoying after completing the cruise—booked through the same travel agency. I quickly realized I was glad they had insisted on extending, and my accepting, the invitation to join them. Without this chance to smooth over the ruffled feelings, meeting up repeatedly during the 7-days in Italy in our small tour group may have been awkward indeed after my childish behavior.
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| My moveable notebook. Photo by author. |
Kristi and Victoria spoke of their struggles during their mother’s last months, of their homes in cold climes and their children (left behind with spouses), of the pleasure of the sun-drenched Adriatic and the luxury of the ship.
I told them a little about Glenda and myself. Upon mention of our home in Mesa, Norma exclaimed, “Oh! I’m almost your neighbor. I live in Gold Canyon just up the 60 from Mesa.”
“That is close,” I commented. “How did you wind up on the Deliziosa and booked on the tour with us?”
“Well, that’s a story. I never travel. I never have. This is a first for me, and I wouldn’t be here now if my friends hadn’t talked me into it.”
“So,” I said, with a smirk, “You have other friends on the cruise, too. I can hardly wait to meet them. Should I leave my notebook in other places?”
Laughing, Norma said, “No. They didn’t make it to Italy. That’s the story I mentioned.”
“Well, do tell,” I said. “How did they not make it?”
“Before I tell that story,” Norma said, “tell me how you feel about the travel agency we all booked with. Are you satisfied?”
Looking from face to face and seeing the same critical look in six eyes, I replied, “Not really. The company is good at putting together a vacation package and then marketing it. Their ads and offers were attention-getting and made this all seem wonderful. When we first called, they were the personification of polite professionalism. While we were considering the purchase, they assigned a company representative by name and gave us their direct number. They always answered on the first ring and had all the right answers. But then they got our money. Big change in service after that. The direct number never got answered but went directly to voice mail that promised a call back in ’24 to 48 business hours.’ Note, that’s three to six calendar days! A long time to wait for answers.”
Assessing my audience’s reaction to what was becoming a rant, I noted knowing nods, so I continued. “And then, they didn’t ever call back. You couldn’t get an answer to a question to save your life, by phone or email. One week before we were to leave, they sent us the wrong trip itinerary that didn’t align with our air travel at all. It almost gave me a heart attack! We had booked our air travel separately from their tour offering. I was frantic trying to get ahold of someone. It wasn’t until late in the day that we got another email apologizing for sending out an incorrect itinerary and promising the correct one shortly. Which we never did get.”
“We got the wrong one, too.” Said Victoria.
“Yep,” Kristi said. “And we couldn’t get anyone to answer the phone. So we drove to their offices and pounded on the locked door until we were let in.”
“Drove to their offices?” I asked.
“Yes. Their offices are in downtown Salt Lake City, and we live nearby.” Victoria replied. “Once inside, they agreed they had made a mistake. Like you, though, we never did get a correct itinerary.”
“Well, we’ve shared that experience,” I sighed. “We flew from Phoenix to Milan not knowing if anyone in Italy knew we were coming or if anyone would meet us, or what. I wasn’t overly worried, as I knew the sailing port and date for the Deliziosa, and I had all the documents for the cruise. I’ve traveled internationally a fair bit. We had passports, cash, and credit cards. One way or another, we were going to be OK. And, when we got to Milan a guide did meet us and all was in order, so good!”
Knowing eyes and agreeing nods all around the table by the window aboard the Deliziosa.
“But at least,” sighed Norma, “You had your experience and knowledge and the comfort from that. I had none of that.”
“Right,” I said. “I got carried away with my story. You said you haven’t traveled much. Your traveling companions didn’t make it to Italy? But you are here safe. Tell us what happened.”
“Kristi, Victoria, you both know this story. Do you mind if I tell it again for Dan?”
Kristi and Victoria both murmured ascents. Norma continued, “My friends, sisters like Victoria and Kristi, convinced me to come on this trip with them. It’ll be fun, they said. We’ll do it together, they said. Fly to Italy, cruise the Adriatic, then tour Italy before returning home. So, we booked it with that agency out of Salt Lake City. Yeah. Mistake. We experienced the same lack of service. Then, disaster. Our air routing was American Airlines from Sky Harbor in Phoenix to LAX and from there non-stop to Rome on Alitalia Airlines. We all got to LAX. When we checked in with Alitalia, the agent discovered the travel agency had misspelled the girls’ names, so their Alitalia tickets didn’t match their passports. They weren’t allowed to board.”
“What? No!” I exclaimed. “What did they do?”
“Well, I’ve heard from them, and they did get home safely, but they may be some time trying to get the travel agency to set things right financially for them. I closed my eyes, held my breath and boarded the plane alone. And here I am! Like you, I was relieved when the company guide met me at Leonardo Da Vinci airport in Rome. And I’m thankful for people like Kristi and Victoria for adopting this green traveler.”
“Wow!” I said. “Horrible for your friends. And brave of you. It seems we’re all involved in a magnificent adventure. It may not be normal to toast with herbal tea, but,” I said as I hoisted my cup, “here’s to new experiences. May we be bold and blessed by guardian angels.”
“Here, here!” Was answered by all around the table by the window as ceramic cups clinked together.
We parted this meeting as friends and enjoyed congenial company together over the remainder of the cruise and the following tour. Glenda was quickly accepted into the circle and my new friends took her under their wing, improving the trip for both of us.
I am so glad Norma, Victoria, and Kristi stole my table by the window aboard the Deliziosa.
