Marco Polo

Marco Polo Cruise in Review

Just back from a 2+ week adventure "Down Under." Flew from PHL to LAX 2/13/98 and spent a day in LA visiting with friends.

Departed LAX around 10 PM for the 12.5 hour flight to Auckland, arriving around 7 AM. The Auckland airport is in the middle of nowhere. Transfer to the hotels seemed to take an awfully long time just getting going. Bags for a number of hotels (hotel accommodations were based on class of cabin) were tossed into a single truck. There were color-coded tags indicating hotel destinations. Of course the rooms were not ready (we were at the Stanhope Plaza, the upscale choice) so we dallied in the bar reading and chatting with other cruisers. We had three days in Auckland. There were the usual city tours, including a "free" one. Following our usual plan of attack, we freelanced.

Our hotel was just a couple of blocks from the busy waterfront. The first night we were quite tired, so I ran across the street to a food court and picked up Chinese/Thai and Andy scooted to a bottle shop for a nice En Zed Chardonnay. Called room service for plates, cutlery and napkins and dined fantastically for $40 NZ.

Next day we purchased $15 passes for a jump bus ... you jump off where you want then jump back on when it pleases you. The ride around the harbor was fabulous. We'd hooked up with another couple, also sailors, and discussed at length the possibility of stealing a sailboat for the afternoon.

One of the "sights" was an aquarium/penguin habitat that was cool (temperature and experience). Next to a museum high on a hill with a wonderful view of the city and a Maori troupe doing traditional Maori things. Off next to the Parnell District, best described as Yuppie Heaven with many restaurants and shoppes. This area looks remarkably like any small Midwestern town, architecture-wise. The skyline is marred by a huge "needle" edifice which contains an overpriced restaurant and a Bally casino. Off the bus at the waterfront, we visited the Maritime Museum. Outside is the hull of the "Big Boat" that led to Dennis Connors building a catamaran for the America's Cup. That was the year there were only two boats. Americas Cup logo goods were tempting but too expensive. There were several dazzling yachts in the harbor, both power and sail, all with many crew members hard at work.

Auckland scenes

In our travels during the day, we had been reading menus and decided on a quayside restaurant with quite an ambitious menu, wondering if they could perform. Dinner with drinks was well over $100 NZ but each mouthful was better than the last. They smoke their own salmon "out back." We were unaware, since we'd entered the place quayside just where we were ... we left by the regular door and noted at least a dozen certificates as "Best Restaurant" "Best Wine List", etc.

Next morning, bags in the hall by 9 AM. Off to a duty-free to stock up on NZ wines and Product of Scotland for the cruise. Caught the $7 ferry to the other side of the harbor (Devonport), feasted on eggs Benedict while enjoying the slow pace of this small part of Auckland. Beautiful, HUGE Victorian houses stand along the waters edge road like doughty matrons with lace fichus.

Marco Polo had been in Auckland Harbor all day. After scoring some last-minute T-shirts, we returned to the hotel and jumped on the bus for boarding around 4 PM. In the rain. The locals were ecstatic. The most outstanding thing about Auckland was the friendliness of the people. Apparently nobody has ever told them that people in big cities are supposed to be rude. I was looking for a small hairspray and a clerk directed me to ANOTHER chemist's shop where she knew they had what I wanted. To my husband's unceasing delight, the fashion for young women seemed to be tight clothing in clingy fabrics worn with most unusual undergarments.

Boarding was accomplished without a hitch and our bags (except for one, which slowed down unpacking a bit) were already in our cabins. Each lady received a carnation (there were vases in the cabins for them) and baggage handlers in snappy uniforms with white gloves took over our carry-ons and led us to our cabin.

Marco Polo in port

Our first impression is that MP is not what I call a "destination ship", rather it's a ship to get where you are going. We were in one of the top cabins and there was barely enough room to swing a cat. There was, however, excellent storage space, which led me to believe she was designed for long cruises rather than shorter ones. The head was small with a "soap & spin" shower. We were on Main Deck, one down from the deck with all public rooms except the dining room, and were situated perfectly amidships which turned out to be rather a blessing later on.

From bow to stern, the public rooms were: Ambassador Lounge, shops on starboard, lounges on port, casino w/bar, then Raffles (casual) restaurant and pool deck. A library and a card room are also tucked in. One level above is the Seven Seas dining room and the Charleston Club. Hold on. I forgot the Polo Lounge, the large lounge, situated just aft of the Ambassador.

As we left Auckland port, we worked our way through a class boat regatta, the first of many that would challenge harbor pilots.

Our cabin steward, Nemie, was extremely cute and extremely helpful. The entire service staff is Filipino, all handsome folks and all willing to do ANYTHING for you. MP carries 850 pax, on this cruise there were about 700 aboard, so one didn't feel crushed. I immediately located the gentleman mentioned either on the Prodigy Afloat BB or in email ... a fellow who was doing NINE cruises back to back. The age demographic was pretty old. The financial demographic was pretty rich. The cruise experience demographic was vast.

Dining aboard Marco Polo

The dining room is low-ceilinged and a bit noisy, but without the ubiquitous bus/serving stations everywhere. One oddity is that a sommelier is posted, for an hour each day, near the purser's desk so you may choose your dinner wine BEFORE dinner. This, of course, necessitates reading the menu and deciding somewhere around noon what you want to have for dinner. It was an option to order at the table, but the wine stewards didn't seem to like that too much. Another oddity is that there are no salads on the menu. A rather plain lettuce & tomato salad with (I think) bottled dressing will be produced upon request. The wine list was not particularly impressive but did include a number of wines in the $12-$20 range. The soups were singularly unimpressive and dinner desserts were nothing to write home about.

The breakfast and lunch buffets were uniformly excellent and surpassed Celebrity in quality and variety. One favorite was scrambled eggs with smoked salmon, onions and mushrooms for breakfast. There was an omelet station at breakfast and a pasta station at lunch. One lunch featured at least a bushel of giant prawns, mussels, and other sea treats. The "Lido Burgers" were juicy. Strange, there were no French fries. Also strange, baked beans appeared both at breakfast and lunch. Coffee varied, probably based on how close to empty the pot was. It was REAL coffee. The bakery did excellent Danish and croissants. Other breads were somewhat ho-hum. In fairness, Marco Polo doesn't cater to an almost exclusively "American" market. I'd venture that 50% of the passenger complement was from the US, most of the rest from NZ/Oz or Europe. Overall, no real complaints about the food and high marks for the salmon which appeared EVERYWHERE.

The public areas of the ship appeared to have been recently refurbished and sparkled. Carpeting and paintwork looked new. Cabins are probably next on the agenda, as they were rather tired. Perhaps because of the wood fittings, there was a smallish odor in our cabin. I scored 6 or 8 bars of soap from Nemie and placed them around the room -- worked fine as air fresheners.

The "style" of the ship is Art Deco in its first revival (tasteful as compared to some of the more recent offerings afloat). The bridge staff is Norwegian (which may account for the smoked salmon) and the social staff seemed to be mostly from Down Under. Another unusual thing ... the social staff was NOT a bunch of 20-something kids. They were, well, sort of middle-aged. Rather refreshing. Ship's announcements were kept to a minimum, another pleasant surprise. At noon each day, what the daily program styled "THE VOICE FROM THE BRIDGE" came on and updated where we'd been, where we were going, etc. There were only two regular activity announcements, one around 10 AM and one around 1 PM. Other than dinner bells (hand-played and followed by a hearty "bon appetite!") there was blessed silence from the PA system. No jackpot Bingo reminders :}

In general summary, ship-wise, Marco Polo is a charming, accommodating vessel. Unfortunately, she is not well-suited to this particular itinerary. One fellow who had some sort of weird computer watch figured that we were in port less than 10% of the time.

Our first port of call, first day out, was only a few hours away from Auckland. Mt. Maungani, Tauranga. This is on the North Island and sounds a lot more exotic than it is. In fact, it's a summer resort town. We took the shuttle into town, wandered around for a while, scoring cold medicine (Andy) and a new watchband (Andy) to replace the one that died the night before. Nobody seemed to rave about the ship's tours or taxi freelancing.

Andy going native

That evening, before sailing, a troupe of Maoris came aboard and performed on the pool deck. They selected a number of male victims to learn the war-like postures in the traditional way. Andy was one of the lucky few. I hope the photos of him with a fierce scowl and tongue fully extended come out !!! This was, probably, the busiest day of the entire cruise. That evening was the Captain's dinner. We skipped the free cocktails (always warm) and handshaking (we've shaken a lot of Captains' hands) in favor of a quiet cocktail before dining. The Captain is a charmer; he's the only Captain MP has had since purchased by Orient. We both had lobster this night -- a delight. Succulent and juicy, a rarity aboard ship.

Next day, at sea with fine weather. The dinner choices were uniformly boring. Following dinner, we determined to inspect the southern skies with a $40 star chart we collected in Auckland. (Good job I didn't buy it at home, I would have forgotten it. I had to buy new copies of guide books in LA because I'd left those at home.) A brisk breeze (hell, a gale) had blown itself in our direction, so we returned to a bar. I lost $7 on the slots.

On Saturday, we arrived in the port of Picton on the Marlborough Sound. The tours started at 8 AM (WHAT?). We were greeted by stoutly clad ladies of the Queen Charlotte Chapter of something or other who gave each person a little corsage of roses and other local flora. Most people took the same trip we did ... 2 hours of stooging around the sound on a launch and 2 hours of hair-raising bus transit of the local area. Half the people started on the bus, half on the launches. Very efficient. It was chilly and rainy at the outset and didn't get much better although we did spend the second hour "above", freezing. But beautiful.

NZed Ladies at play (for keeps!)

On the bus part, we saw vineyard after vineyard (no stopping for samples, sorry to say), and ranching operations for deer, llamas, sheep of many colors, and stopped at a lovely public garden where we enjoyed watching ladies of indeterminate age playing homicidal croquet. There was a vineyard tour which was pegged "OK" by those who took it. Back on board MP at 12:30 noon and off to the South Island.

The weather continued to degrade, with serious chop starting around 6 PM. By midnight, we were into heavy rollers. We ate in Raffles this night, a wonderful Oriental feast. There is an additional fee ($15 for this meal) but the cost includes saki and unlimited wine. A good deal. The slots were in a better mood, and I ended the evening $21 ahead for the trip; Andy won $50 playing blackjack. Stayed up LATE.

Milford Sound in the mist

Next morning I awoke with a hangover to bad weather and heavy seas. The bartender on the pool deck couldn't show up soon enough to provide a much-needed Bloody Mary.

Around 1 PM we entered Milford Sound which is the second most beautiful (after Halong Bay) water-type place I've ever seen. It was raining, raining, raining which made the waterfalls along the cliff faces that much more impressive. Photographers were busily rushing about asking other photographers PLEASE do you have an extra roll of ASA 800?

Milford Sound waterfalls

As we left Milford Sound, the 48 hours from Hell began as we crossed the Tasmin Sea. Unpredictable at best, according to the Captain, it became a Tasmanian Devil. The "normal" swells were about 20' and a couple of rogues of 30' crashed over the bow. The "roll" turned to "pitch" and stayed that way for two miserable days. A formal night was cancelled due to the weather, women were told NOT to wear heels, barf bags were everywhere. The duty free shop took a severe hit with goods all over the floor. (At least it wasn't as bad as one cruise when the booze and the perfume bottles broke TOGETHER. Bleagh!) There were numerous broken bones, including a lady whom we'd befriended who broke her arm in the shower. The rescheduled formal night was again cancelled as the weather was even worse. Dinner seatings were about half the normal complement. Busboys were distributing crackers and the queue at sickbay was huge.

Most of those who COULD eat chose to take breakfast and lunch in the dining room to avoid carrying trays. A few hardy souls, we among them, hung out in the sheltered corners of the pool deck.

The morning we were to arrive Melbourne at 8 AM dawned clear and sunny and we were still several hours from port because the Captain had, wisely, slowed down during the worst of the weather. All morning tours were cancelled, and afternoon tours put back several hours.

Welcome to Oz

The Captain decided to remain in port until 8 PM rather than the scheduled 5 PM. After the announcement that we'd remain in port for extra hours, I began to wonder Just How the dinner problem would be resolved. As it turned out, both troughings were offered as well as an on-the-fly buffet in Raffles and the pool deck. The Lido Burger grill was turning up giant prawns and lovely looking filets mignon, but escargots were on the dining room menu. I ran into the Executive Chef in a corridor and said, "How on earth did you manage this?"

"I don't know Madame, we're not done yet."

Our day in Melbourne was another freelance special. Fond as we are of the Lonely Planet guide books, we decided to visit what it called the #1 (unofficial) tourist attraction in Melbourne, the

Room with a view

restrooms on the 35th floor of the former Regent, now a Sofitel. Floor to ceiling windows. The men's room, according to Andy, was far better than the ladies', because the urinals ran along the wall and one could take in the view whilst, well, you know. I forced him back in to take a photo. We each had a G&T ($20, including tip) before strolling down Melbourne's answer to Rodeo Drive, North Collins Street. On the way to the bathroom, we passed through the Greek section of Melbourne, supposedly the largest Greek city in the world after Athens and Salonika.

It was fun when our fellow passengers asked what we'd done that day to answer, "We went to the bathroom."

It was hot, hot, hot in Melbourne. Somewhere above 90. We sailed away at 8 PM, owner on board, once again through a regatta. This time several classes were having at it and we gave instructions on turning the mark to a fleet of MORC class boats. Other passengers thought we were somewhat strange.

Thursday was a beautiful, clear day as we headed toward Sydney at full speed, trying to make up for lost time. Regular readers of our trip reports know that we never go to the lounge shows, but this night the Filipino staff put on their own show. Our waiter said that his job was to help the ladies change their clothes between presentations and he had to wear a blindfold. It was charming. Glad we went.

Le Bar member's club

After the show, back to Le Bar, the place we and several others had declared "Members Only" on the first night out. A very small bar adjacent to the casino, it seats about 16 in couches and chairs and another 8 or so at the bar. I gave Julio, the bartender, and Joyce, the waitress, "good luck" frogs as a thank you for excellent service. Andy reported immediately to the blackjack table in an effort to win back the tip money we had distributed. I managed to lurch my way to the slot machine that had been rather ratty toward me over the cruise. Next to me was Lee, the broken arm friend. As I fed the $25 I'd allowed myself for the evening into the machine, we chatted and I learned that her (recently deceased) husband had written the book upon which the film "Breaker Morant" was based.

Verdi at sunrise?

Upon reflection, what I would normally promise as a "first" was actually a "second." The previous being up at first light for locking into the Panama Canal last October. We again used nature's alarm clock ... leaving the window curtains open. On deck with maybe 50 other people at 6 AM as we came into Sydney Harbor at sunrise. Spectacular is the only useful word.

A famous view of Sydney Harbour

It was so quiet on deck. Only the sounds of intakes of breath and the click-whirr of cameras. It reminded me of a religious service or, maybe better, early people seeing something (fire?) for the first time. Those of us who arose early shared something soul-deep and visceral. Simply astounding. The bridge and the Opera House reflecting the sun's first rays were almost weird dream-like. A moment never to be forgotten.

Disembarkation/Debarkation/Getting Off the Ship was the smoothest and most collegial we've ever encountered. No punches pulled, we were loaded into coaches according to our destination hotels and told we would have to tolerate four hours of sight-seeing before our rooms would be available. Awesome. I could do another 10 notes on the delights of Sydney and my temptation to turn in my tourist visa for a resident visa, but that's not about the cruise.

The three days in Sydney were the best. We purchased the 2-day everything transport ticket which covered the red bus (in town) the blue bus (beach route) regular bus (anywhere and everywhere) and ferry service. $38 each and worth every penny. A couple of weeks ahead, we'd purchased tickets to David Helfgott in concert at the Opera House. Darn, same night as the 20th Gay & Lesbian Mardi Gras. Helfgott was, personally, even weirder than we'd expected but his technique and performance were way past excellent. From there, we had a late dinner at Marrioney, the #1 Sydney grubbing spot. The staff turned us on to our dinner spot for the next night, The Pier, reached by the 345 bus. We LOVE conquering public transportation systems. And eating well at non-tourist places. Exquisite "reef fish".

My personal best was scoring six Coogi sweaters at an average price of $150. Four of them (the kids' Xmas sweaters) are already in a friend's cedar closet so the little weasel who lives with us won't discover them and rat us out to the other kids.

Our run of luck which began about a week before sailing and ran on with my slot winnings, continued when we rolled into LAX early on Monday morning, about 1/2 hour ahead of schedule. We'd checked all six bags through to PHL, not wanting to roll two carry-ons around for five hours waiting for our flight home. (We had the choice to kill a day in LA and passed it up.) The Customs and Immigration people were just racing people through and we went, on a dead run, to the Domestic Terminal at LAX and caught a flight to PHL with 10 minutes to spare.