Disclaimer:
I do not intend to speak on behalf of Azamara Club Cruises. As an employee of Azamara Club Cruises, I hereby state that all vies and expressions of opinion I hold are solely my own, and do not reflect or represent the views, values, beliefs, opinions, or company policies of ether Azamara Club Cruises or Royal Caribbean Cruises Ltd.
Additionally I neither own nor claim any legal rights to the links provided in this post.
Note:
I realize I have not published anything in a while. The reasons for that will become obvious as you read; I just wanted to enjoy my time! Now, I'm back at it.
Cheers.
Additionally I neither own nor claim any legal rights to the links provided in this post.
Note:
I realize I have not published anything in a while. The reasons for that will become obvious as you read; I just wanted to enjoy my time! Now, I'm back at it.
Cheers.
Dating on ships....
Let me tell you; if the timing for two people isn’t right, dating becomes a double-edged sword. If, for example, the other person leaves in a month, then it seems fruitless to pursue a relationship. However, time moves much faster on ships than on land. On land, people have jobs. Separate homes. They can only see each other perhaps twice a week, for a few hours. That adds up to, say, ten hours a week. On ships, you live in the same large space, and you are around the same people all the time…at least in your own department. And if you date someone from your own department, then you have all the time in the world to build rapport. That adds up to, say, ten hours a day, rather than a week. Days become like weeks in terms of time. Even though a month doesn’t seem like a long time, on a ship it is. It is an incredibly long time. This is the “shipboard romance,” if you will: perfect, and amazing, for the time that two people are together. But then one person leaves, and sometimes that person won’t come back…. The double-edged sword cuts deep.
Because you live with other crew members on a ship, during the course of time, the intensity of the rapport-building can get overwhelming real quick. People need space (at least I do, anyway). I decided a while ago that if I were to date on a ship, I would need to be with someone with whom I am totally comfortable. In other words, it needs to be an “eff-yes” situation before I can commit that much time to a person on a ship. There’s a great article about this “eff-yes” concept. I totally agree with it.
If there is a girl on a ship, but it is not an “eff-yes” situation…I will go crazy. Simple as that.
Because
of these factors, I told myself I would avoid dating on ships. I told myself I would focus on music
and enjoying all that traveling has to offer.
But still, a few weeks into my fourth contract, part of me always, always wanted to spend time with her.
She and I worked in the band. I started my fourth contract in April 2015 when she was there. My first communication with her was a musical idea that we both spontaneously, simultaneously played. I think we were improvising over a tune or something; I can’t quite remember. That fluke-click of our minds kicked off a spark that was more like a bolt.
The ship was docked in Bergen, Norway that day. After our set, we hiked up the mountain. White night was settling in at 12am, and though I’d seen this view before against the great blue sky, to see it at twilight was equally, if not more, breathtaking.
But still, a few weeks into my fourth contract, part of me always, always wanted to spend time with her.
She and I worked in the band. I started my fourth contract in April 2015 when she was there. My first communication with her was a musical idea that we both spontaneously, simultaneously played. I think we were improvising over a tune or something; I can’t quite remember. That fluke-click of our minds kicked off a spark that was more like a bolt.
The ship was docked in Bergen, Norway that day. After our set, we hiked up the mountain. White night was settling in at 12am, and though I’d seen this view before against the great blue sky, to see it at twilight was equally, if not more, breathtaking.
From July, 2013
From June, 2015
We talked and talked. Things were natural, comfortable, and
similar. SO similar. Over the next week, more and more
similarities between us were realized.
She is in her early forties. I’m in my
late twenties. Over the course of
the next week, I didn’t care. She
was so youthful, attractive, mature, and incredible that it just worked.
She was definitely an “eff-yes.”
She was definitely an “eff-yes.”
Each day felt like a week’s worth of time with her. Because we worked together, she and I were spending hours
and hours a day with each other.
It took two weeks more before I made a move, before I was
sure that I wanted her in my life in that way. Fourteen days.
Fourteen week-like days.
The
next two weeks we spent in each others’ arms. Fourteen MORE days.
Fourteen MORE week-like days.
We fell for each other.
I
know. It’s fast. But that’s ship life for you. Unique it is. And yet unforgiving, too.
Her
contract was a short one. Mine was
a very long one: eight months. She
left on the sixth week I knew her, and she could not come back even if she had
wanted. Thus that double-edged
sword sliced deep.
Bittersweet. Giving so much
while taking it all away, just like that.
Naturally,
I was in a forlorn mood when I waved her off on the dock of the Langelinie quay, in
Copenhagen. Her piercing eyes and wonderful
smile were lost to me as she disappeared into the back of the coach.
Was it just a dream? Had she really been there with me on the ship?
I stood in dumb silence, people walking to and fro, past me, near me. The colors of the dockside and of the nearby park seemed to fade. Dumb, dumb silence. That damn coach mocking me, mocking us. Seconds stretched eternally….
So then, of course, the thought hit me like a boulder; I realized I hadn’t brought my backpack with me. I needed that backpack; it had my Ipod, because I needed music that day. It had my camera, because I needed to capture that day. I snapped to life, running back toward the gangway, past the statue of the Zinkglobal metal man, elbow on his knee, with his palm supporting his chin. I’d seen him several times before, and always admired his contemplative pose. But today, he mirrored my mood. Sitting there, thinking, lost in thought, looking like he’s lost hope….
Was it just a dream? Had she really been there with me on the ship?
I stood in dumb silence, people walking to and fro, past me, near me. The colors of the dockside and of the nearby park seemed to fade. Dumb, dumb silence. That damn coach mocking me, mocking us. Seconds stretched eternally….
So then, of course, the thought hit me like a boulder; I realized I hadn’t brought my backpack with me. I needed that backpack; it had my Ipod, because I needed music that day. It had my camera, because I needed to capture that day. I snapped to life, running back toward the gangway, past the statue of the Zinkglobal metal man, elbow on his knee, with his palm supporting his chin. I’d seen him several times before, and always admired his contemplative pose. But today, he mirrored my mood. Sitting there, thinking, lost in thought, looking like he’s lost hope….
I
got out of my cabin and onto the embarkation deck quickly enough, but many
other people were now coming onboard.
So I had to wait. My head
became heavier, denser, number, dumber.
Every moment gnawed at the back of my mentality. Much as I tried to sincerely focus on
the people coming onboard, and tried to realize that I was just one life among
many different lives, I could not bring myself out of the murk. Her departure was still so fresh. I started getting claustrophobic. I needed to get off…now….
Finally,
the security guard let some of us go. I took off down the gangway at a brisk, nearly frantic pace, almost
turning heads as I half-ran the hell out of there.
My
mind flipped a switch: I stopped abruptly, threw my backpack off, dug out my
camera, headphones, and IPod, then zipped the thing up and picked up the pace
and rushed onto the grounds of Langelinie Park.
This place is a beauty. Part of the park is called “Kastellet,”
or The Citadel. Kastellet was
founded in 1626, and today it serves as a military barracks and institution,
though at the same time it is open to the public for recreation. From above, Kastellet is shaped like a star.
The surroundings made me slow down,
calm down, give myself time to relax.
I let its beauty breathe by me like a wind. I walked along the outer trail, along the perimeter. There is an inner trail upon the
ramparts, lush with grass and lined with eloquent trees. Old cannons line the walkways
sporadically.
The
first thing toward which I walked was the great wooden windmill.
Before walking up to the ramparts, I had put on Cuong Vu’s album It’s Mostly Residual. I had put on the track of the same name. It has beautiful reverberating sounds, a somewhat unconventional form, and a borderline-heroic melody.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8jinahqEHdw
Cuong Vu was Pat Metheny’s trumpet
player for a time. He has established himself as a formidable musical force in the jazz world. Vu’s own band
varies between the sax/clarinetist Chris Speed (who appears on Vu’s album Vu-Tet) and a guitarist. Much of the time, his albums have just
the bassist and drummer alongside his trumpet, whereby he uses electronic
pedals to great effect. On this
album, the guitarist Bill Frisell joins the group. His ostinato background figure on “It’s
Mostly Residual” greatly adheres the beauty of the tune as a whole. The bassist Stomu Takeishi is a master of sound; he
lays down everything from guttural drones to pinch harmonics to
acrobatic melodies. Frisell’s solo
is powerfully epic against Ted Poor’s awesomely chaotic drumming. The tune builds into a gigantic fanfare
at the end, reminiscent of power-ballad rock, triumphant, ecstatic.
On the music:
I needed to hear this. I had just spent my last cruise with
her in Norway, and this tune, from the first time I’d heard it, reminds
me of Norway. All of the sounds of
the tune—Frisell’s echoing solo, Vu’s calling trumpet, Poor’s solid drumming,
Takeishi’s earthy, quaking lines--make me think of the godly glory of the
fjords. Especially that I’d
witnessed them, once again, with this amazing woman at my side.
Tears welled up as the tune played…. But the great thing about the time I
was spending here was not the music, but the park and all the people around
me. These two factors seemed to
quell any chance of a breakdown.
There’s this thing that happens to
me when I listen to music while walking around in port. I focus more upon every person I pass. Something about the way music elevates
my emotions also elevates my perspective of everything else around me, including
people. I empathize with them on
the spot: I see their joy, their surprise, and all the rest of those “travel”
expressions with which I’m so acquainted. There were many people walking around
Langelinie Park today. Near the pier
of Langelinie, I past by crowds looking at The Little Mermaid Statue, praised
for its detail and evocation:
or others just walking around Kastellet and Langelinie Park:
some admiring the Gefion Fountain and St. Alban’s Church:
or those handfuls of people wandering about where I now stood,
in front of the windmill.
And I started to feel better,
slowly but surely. I mean, overall,
it will take a while. But it’s
incredible how feelings that bring you down can be combated so well by
perceiving and connecting with otber people, and especially when you’re
surrounded by travelers who are giving off so much positivity. Happiness is contagious.
Here is the icing on top of the
cake for that day: statues that are part of the work of Steinunn Thorarinsdottir. I found a
description of her exhibiton, Places, next to a pair of her sculptures.
 |
| http://www.steinunnth.com |
The symbolism of her work made me
feel even better. I must be a part
of the bigger picture, and not bring myself down….
Yet still I felt down as I walked
from the park toward the city centre.
I ran into another piece of art by Thorarinsdottir:
 |
| http://www.steinunnth.com |
This triggered an unexplainable
desire to listen to some new music.
No need to explore why; I just needed to do it.
I always love listening to new
music. There are always new things
to learn as a musician. Plus, I
like having a sense of mystery in life.
After all: what’s the use of pursuing knowledge when you already know
everything there is to know?
I figured Gretchen Parlato would be
an excellent choice for new music.
My God, was she….
This is the first track off her
album The Lost And Found. Her voice, the first notes, the
first line of, “Holding back the years…”
It was so emotional, so full, so…sad, but utterly masterful…that I lost it.
I couldn’t walk anymore. I
physically stopped, leaned against a wall, and took some time to just let it
out. Damn, man; you know a
musician is truly amazing when he/she can get you with the first few notes…when
every note is so rich and executed
with such love that it makes you stop in your tracks.
This is a Simply Red cover of their tune “Holding Back The Years.” I could tell you about the form: I
could tell you that the tune wants to resolve to C, on account of the bass line
going from E-F, then A-B, and repeating that pattern as if it will eventually
resolve. I could tell you this
un-resolution and fluidity of the chords over the bass gives the tune its tension,
in that it never resolves to C. I
could tell you it resolves from B in the bass to a turnaround of Bbsus7 that
goes to an Ebmaj7, then back to the E-F, A-B figure. I could tell you more technical stuff. But it was unimportant to me at the
time. It was the emotion of it. The lukewarm surprise of Bbsus-Ebmaj7
turnaround. The longing loneliness
of the E-F, A-B ostinato. It was
Parlato’s unbelievable voice, tone, lyrics, emotion and all, that was the point
of focus. I was listening to
this tune for the first time, and I was in a state of shock and sadness. I’m not going to focus on the subtle nuances
of Kendrick Scott’s drumming, or how Taylor Eigsti chose to accompany the tune,
or how steadfast Derrick Hodge’s bass is. Figuring out the nuts and bolts of music can come later.
For me, and probably for people in general, it’s the sound that is the first priority. The sound is what grabs us first. “Holding Back The Years” had the perfect sound for me. All these musicians created something gorgeous. It perfectly reflected my mood. It made me stop walking. It made me fully embrace my girlfriend's departure for the first time.
For me, and probably for people in general, it’s the sound that is the first priority. The sound is what grabs us first. “Holding Back The Years” had the perfect sound for me. All these musicians created something gorgeous. It perfectly reflected my mood. It made me stop walking. It made me fully embrace my girlfriend's departure for the first time.
I finally reached the end of a
street, near the Parliament building.
On the way I passed by Frederik’s Church, also called The Marble Church, among the largest domed
churches in Scandinavia. Unfortunately
the church was closed at the time, but I managed to get a nice shot.
On the Music:
I had started listening to Cuong Vu again, this time from the
album Come Play With Me, a track called
“Vina’s Lullaby.” It starts out
with Vu’s trumpet, reverberating the melody endlessly, freely, before the drums
and bass enter in a distant but solid 3/4 rock groove. It drives the tune, but comfortably,
caringly, cradling the melody’s rises and falls, calls and responses. It’s a wonderful tune. Vu’s solo begins with only the drums as
accompaniment, and he does some great improv over the melody before going off
the deep-end with the bassist.
Mostly, I wanted to hear the more emotional parts of the beginning.
Essentially, I sat between the longing,
gorgeous quality of Parlato’s music and the epic, beautiful quality of Vu’s
music, wanting to break free of my sadness but also wanting to revel in it. Being pulled back and forth was a
strange feeling. It felt like I
was in the ocean, the waves and currents gently moving me this way and that
toward no specific feeling of sadness in losing my girlfriend, nor joy of being in
Copenhagen.
The joy, however, was able to allow
more of itself in, little by little, throughout the day.
For instance, one great thing I saw
that day was the World Archery Championships, being held right outside the giant Christianborg Palace. Vu’s tune
ended a few moments after I saw this scene.
Incredibly, at the time, Denmark was up, facing off against
Italy!
This was very cool…and it also made me realize that Hawkeye
and Katniss Everdeen would have to be freakin’ prodigies if they could beat these guys. I mean, these archers were absolutely focused on distant bull’s-eyes for as long as ten
seconds! You could feel the concentration just from their expressions
on the jumbo-tron. Most of the
time, the bull’s-eye was struck. Just
goes to show that Hollywood can hyperbolize skills to the max for characters
like Hawkeye and Everdeen…and the Expendables and James Bond, for that matter.
Continuing
on down the road, past the right side of Christianborg Palace, I came across a street
market in front of Thorvaldsen's Museum.
After taking in this scene, I felt
like withdrawing into music again.
More new music. More things
to learn, even though my purpose was also to cope.
I put on the 3 Cohens album, Braid.
3 Cohens consist of three siblings: Avishai, Anat, and Yuval
Cohen. They play trumpet, tenor
sax/clarinet, and soprano sax, respectively. All three musicians are outstanding. And Anat is among the top jazz
clarinetists today.
“Gigi et Amelie” is a track I
connected with very quickly. It helped
stoke my melancholy mood. Yes;
again I wanted to feel sad. There
was a fresh quality about the tune, fresh in a sad way…. It reflected my fresh sadness, two sides of the same coin.
On the Music:
On the Music:
The tune’s A section is played by Avishai’s
muted trumpet, and the next A section is played by Yuval’s soprano. The B section speeds up into a
waltz-swing thing, going back and forth between Dbmaj7 and Dmin6/9. This harmonic thing gives the B section
a free but wistful feeling, like some creature that suddenly looks at the sky
and wants to try flying, but can’t quite get off the ground. It wants
to swiftly and excitedly dart through mountain ranges, or through the trees
of a forest, but it can’t quite do it, hence the wistful flavors of the section…. Anat begins to solo over the A section
before the next re-statement of the B section, whereby each Cohen plays off one
another in collective improvisation throughout, darting between the melody and
other ideas, growing together, calming together, raging together, trying to fly
together….
And I certainly couldn’t get off
the ground. My head was still too heavy….
There is the tune “Beaches,” fourth
track off of Braid. I wanted a more contemplative atmosphere
into which I could withdraw. I
wanted to withdraw into myself while taking my surroundings with me….
It’s not a healthy thing to do,
especially when you exploit such spectacular surroundings in a negative
fashion. Travel is supposed to
motivate you to open up your mind, not close it. It’s supposed to make you elated. But still, I am human, and I have layers….
So, I eventually came across Copenhagen
City Hall, looming clear and mighty against the blue sky. I walked along its perimeter toward the
front façade, the Sun behind the building to make for a poor shot in terms of
contrast.
3 Cohen’s “Beaches” was still
playing. I felt an insatiable urge
to walk up to the entrance and saunter in. I’m very, very glad I did.
On the Music:
"Beaches” seems to base its form
around the melody. The final
response to the initial call of the melody is lengthened greatly over an E
diminished chord-scale relationship.
It finally resolves to D minor with the melody’s final response, and so
this is essentially the whole form of the tune. Each Cohen plays off of one another beautifully, and
solidly. Aaron Goldberg’s piano
playing is just as communicative, shooting ideas back and forth between
everyone. Eric Harland steps in to
join the conversation just as often, keeping the drum groove while immediately veering
off in response to trills and other rapid-fire things from the Cohens. Omer Avital holds it altogether on the
bass but diverges to join the conversation every once in a while. The dialogue is awesome, and it all
creates this Latin/Eastern-European vibe that has ingredients of both agitation
and contemplation.
I came out of my shell
gradually. Withdrawing didn’t seem
like a good idea here at all.
Alongside this contemplative music I became introspective in a curious
way. For instance, the sounds of
the tune at that time reflected the architecture I was seeing, and I was
fixated upon it and everything else within the hall. Though the building as a whole is designed in the National
Romantic style, the interior reminded me of something Italian, or
Middle-Eastern; the music made me feel like I walked into a large bazaar,
closed down for the day but wide open to take my sorrow in. I was still withdrawn, but wishing
to gaze around, too.
There was one thing in this hall that
not only took my sorrow in, but spat it back out at me and told me not to feel
that way.
The World Clock is set up inside a
room within Copenhagen City Hall. It
tells time not only as far as Earth is concerned, but also on astronomical
levels. This thing made me feel
astronomically small.
The World Clock is a masterpiece of
machinery, conceived by Jens Olsen, a founder of the Danish Astronomical
Society. He had a fantastic mind
for crafts and machinery, and over the course of his career numerous scientific
institutions hired him for his skills.
Olsen was 60 when he had finished all the necessary calculations for his
dream to be built and realized: The World Clock.
 |
| Courtesy of Colin Cameron via Flickr |
It is built to last for thousands of years, in an attempt to calculate and measure time beyond normal human lifespans and beyond. Here, you can find more information on the World Clock, straight and to-the-point.
As I looked at each of these
facets, the world became smaller to me.
My surroundings appeared lost in a vastness.
So then; from the smallest
measurements of time and objects to the largest measurements:
On the right is the actual solar time in accordance
with local time. The face on the left, however, hit me
first; for at the time, I understood that it shows the time from any location
on Earth (notice the numbers, or hours, in relation to the globe). Initially, it just
looked really cool. And when its
purpose hit me, I began to feel small in relation to the Earth.
Of course, that was just the beginning….
The perpetual calendar (bottom center of the clock).
I knew, at the time, that this calendar probably represented
an enormous amount of years to come.
I did not know how many years.
I learned later in the link above that it calculates the next calendar
year every New Year’s Eve at midnight.
And, this mechanism is set to run for the next 2500 years….
2500 years. Civilizations have risen and fallen in
that period of time. I was feeling
smaller….
The dials on the right side of the clock were the last to be observed. I did realize, as I admired the detail etched in the metal, that everything on this side dealt with celestial bodies beyond Earth. That alone made me feel even smaller….
On the left is a dial from which one can calculate lunar and solar eclipses:
But there was one dial I was
looking for, to which the information plaques alluded--a dial that shows a star map of the sky over Denmark so as to relate it to the precession of the Earth's axis. How long does this motion of the axis take? Once every
25,753 years…. As I left the room, a
person in the booth was available to talk. She told me which dial this was:
I don’t know how it turns. I don’t know how it works. I don’t know how any of it works. All I
cared about, at that point, was the fact that this contraption makes a dial
rotate once every 25,753 years.
25,753 years. My mind raced through what that
actually means:
- a decade has enough events in it as it is to move and perhaps cause major shifts in particular societies…and perhaps globally, too. Look at recent history, and the latter is true….
- 50 years can contain so much: The Civil Rights Act was passed just over 50 years ago, finally ending segregation and outlawing discrimination in the United States.
- 100 years is a century; major civil upheavals have happened in every one. Hell; each century has its own flavor, its own definition characterized by its events.
- 1000 years…who can quantify 1000 years of history and make it as simple to understand as possible? Every story is never simple, every human life is never simple. If one can make 1000 years of history as simple as possible, from local events to wars and politics, the text will still be thousands upon thousands of pages long….
- Telling 1000 years as concisely and detailed as possible would take a forest for paper….
- And so multiply that by twenty-five….
Our planet would be lacking trees by
the time that dial turned once.
Man; what are my problems against something that attempts to measure
eternity?
So you can see why the World Clock
gave me a stern talking-to. I am
part of this unimaginably huge interconnection that is the Earth and the
cosmos. I am not its center! Nobody is! To think my existence is above everything else, even in
the most poignantly emotional of times, is utterly ludicrous. I do what I can in this life to the
best of my abilities, but I should never pretend
that I could go up against an ocean’s worth of paper.
At the time, the entirety of these
realizations and the symbolism of The World Clock did not impact me too
greatly. I knew the impact was
there, yet it was from a distance.
Dull, but firm enough so that even in my depressed state, I could not
resist its influence. But, rather
than leaving me dumbfounded it granted me a kind of mental stability. Even physically I felt more poised: I
stopped slouching, held my shoulders back, felt a pondering expression on my
face…. Major realizations and
reaffirmations will do that to a person.
I was gradually able to feel
better, because gradually I let Copenhagen open itself into my heart. After seeing the World Clock, I didn’t
feel like locking my door while Copenhagen was knocking. The World Clock was the message, the email,
the phone call. I, after leaving
City Hall, invited Copenhagen in.
We started a fine conversation.
Walking back toward the ship, through Langelinie Park, past the stately cathedral with the bull statue out in front, I thought to myself, “I’m glad Copenhagen could stay for awhile.” Anymore, when I return to a port, it seems like an old friend. I can communicate with this friend while I wander around, give thanks to each thing I see and experience, and leave knowing that we had a good time catching up: talking about what has happened over the last year, how my ship family is doing, how its children are doing, or how much investment we’ve made in particular areas.
I’m happy I let Copenhagen in,
eventually. It’s good to open up
to good friends. Sometimes you
can’t cope on your own.
Unfortunately, my girlfriend and I are no longer together. As many of my ship
friends tell me; if it’s meant to be, well, then you’ll make it work! But, it was not meant to be. I have colleagues who have somebody
back home; they make it work because it was meant to be. I guess, all in all, life throws us for a loop sometimes. Thank goodness that we are such
adaptable creatures. But it’s how we adapt that affects our everyday
lives, internally and externally. And
as long as we are honest with ourselves, we can figure out the best courses of
action to take.
I’ll conclude by showing some
pictures of areas of Copenhagen I took two years ago, but of which I did not
visit this time around. These
places were in my memory while I walked around on this particular day:
 |
| Near the downtown area. August 2013. |
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| The old commercial port of Nyhavn, now a gorgeous place to dine and walk. August 2013. |
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| The old Stock Exchange building, built in the 17th Century. In the 1970's the stock exchange was moved to another building. July 2013. |
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| The Church of Our Savior, among Denmark's most famous churches. August 2013. |
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| Another view of Christianborg Palace. July 2013. |
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| Christianborg Palace from a different side. July 2013. |
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| The large park of Faelledparken. August 2013. |
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| Tycho Brahe Planetarium. Along the lakeside were two beautiful trails. August 2013. |
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| Rosenborg Castle, home of Denmark's crown jewels and other royal treasures. Guarded by automatic-rifle-wielding soldiers, too. August 2013 |
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| A fountain on the grounds of Rosenborg Castle. August 2013. |
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| A beautiful garden on the grounds of Rosenborg Castle. August 2013 |
 |
| Near a quay in the north of the downtown area. August 2013. |
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| This incredible place lies some distance from Langelinie. August 2013. |
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