A minus 7

D and I are both shaking our heads at the rapidly approaching departure date of our cruise to Alaska. We both have acres of work sucking up our respective time between now and the day we each step foot on our planes to meet each other in Anchorage.  (I wish we were flying out of the same airport rather than meeting each other in Alaska – we only live 40 minutes away from each other by car – but this is the way it worked out.)

“I’m going to do nothing but sleep,” he said this afternoon as we chatted by phone.

“Me, too,” I replied fervently.

Looks like we’ll be a dynamic duo. Not!

I think the weather is likely to be cloudy and rainy this early in the Alaska cruising season, and at the very least it could be changeable.  I have visions of both of us wrapped up in coats, reclining on loungers on our private veranda, sipping coffee to stay warm, teeth chattering, as we determinedly enjoy our private deck and a view of the glaciers.

Or, possibly, both of us snoring away in our respective twin beds, rousing ourselves in the late morning to partake of coffee and croissants in our cabin. (That sounds good.)

However, as I look through the itinerary, I see that most of the time we (or at least I) will probably aim to get up early so as to take advantage of the stops in various ports.  I’m a slug and I’m looking forward to being a Slug on Vacation, but I do want to check out the ports, however touristy they may be.  I expect it will all be a bit like walking around Fisherman’s Wharf in San Francisco, which is not at all the same thing as getting a feel for the real San Francisco – but you know?  It is what it is, and I’m determined to enjoy the experience on its own terms.

I’ve bought no clothes for this trip, nor do I intend to.  Jeans, layers, and comfortable walking shoes for daytime, nice skirts and heels for evening, and absolutely no formal wear, thankyouverymuch.  I’ll throw a pair of sparkly earrings in my suitcase to dress up something black, and that will simply have to be that.

Yes, I’ll take photos along the way. Or ask D to.

My husband inquired, jokingly (but with the teeniest hint of anxiety in his voice that was rather endearing) if I planned to remove my wedding rings for this trip. He’s just about the only person in the world who would even remotely think that I’d be a Hot Catch for some trolling, older man cruising alone.

Actually, what I expect to see a lot of on the trip are older, widowed women traveling in pairs. Or it could be active, retired couples. And probably everyone will look younger than I expect them to because I myself am coming up on 50 in a few years, and yet I still think of myself as young in some contexts. Apparently, the average age is 50-65. Er, I think my brain needs to catch up with my chronological age.