Nov. 4 2:22pm
After all that drama, the health inspectors at Punto Arenas were all sort of “yeah—whatever.” 70 Explorer passengers went through passport control, and a health inspector (mine looked like someone’s nephew, brought in for the day to help out) looking at various pieces of paper. 69 of us then had our noses swabbed. The 70th passenger, a woman named Angela, insisted that no one told her she needed to have another COVID test. I know this because she was sitting behind me on the bus to the dock when the radio crackled and someone said “Hang on; we’re missing a test.”
So Angela and someone else have gone back to the airport. Will our departure be delayed? WHO CARES? I wanted a nap anyway!
(But—in keeping with the grand tradition of napblocking, there’s a mandatory lifeboat drill in 40 mintues, so I’ll blog instead and sleep later.)
The Explorer has a glorious Titanic Before The Iceberg vibe; lots of polished mahogany and shining chrome. I went up a few decks and found the library (where I think I will go when I die; I’d like to haunt that spot forever) and the observation deck. And then to the lounge, which is mere feet from my cabin, where smiling staff served me “snacks” from a buffet. (COVID. You can’t serve yourself at the buffet.) I’m having hummus and celery and carrots, and olives, and a piece of ham and some cubes of cheese—which makes me feel both happy and healthy.)
My cabin is small but clever as hell. Nautical designers; you’ve got to love them. Lying on my bed was my PARKA!! which actually fits over my hips with two or three layers underneath; huzzah! Even though I have posh pictures of the ship, I’m only going to post one photo here because I’m not entirely confident in the internets. So I’ll post others later—including evidence that the wind in Punto Arenas is NOT FUCKING AROUND; we almost got blown off the old roaderoo in our tour busses. Damn—so much fun! White caps everywhere; it’s going to be fun sailing!
Wait The photo. Obviously, me in my parka. Aren’t I a fashion statement??