Travel Maven blog

Caribbean cruising adventures on edgy shore excursions

One person's joyful travel adventure can be another's horror.

So, before you don helmet and goggles, and saddle up a Yamaha ATV for a speedy trek through an agave ranch near the cruise port of Progreso in Mexico's Yucatan, take stock of yourself.

Am I ready for this?

The trail on this cruise ship excursion is pocked and slippery with loose rocks -- and dusty enough to coat your lower lip and fill all your pores. The trek is not for the frail, fastidious, nervous, fearful of driving or turning over (as one fellow in my excursion group did, though you would not want to drive next to him on the freeway, either).

One man chose the wrong ride

The ATV -- all terrain vehicle -- experience in Mexico is a gritty, jouncing, tiring adventure. Most of the dozen passengers, off the Carnival Fantasy in 2009, said they had a great time and would do it again.

But one fellow was highly disappointed and said he wished he had chosen a less demanding, less stressful day in port.

As cruise lines offer more adventures to passengers looking for edgy experiences, you need to pay attention to the physical demands described on the lists of shore excursions, as well as your physical fitness and comfort levels.

More to this story: CLICK on edgy shore excursions at TheTravelMavens.com

 

Cruising to sunny Labadee helps Haitians

Royal Caribbean is catching criticism for its return to Labadee, the private beach enclave in Haiti that the cruise line uses as a sunny port stop for some of its ships. Labadee suffered little impact from the recent earthquakes.

No doubt, the return to Labadee is good for Royal Caribbean, as fun, efficient port stops are at a premium. But don't fault Royal Caribbean for being insensitive to the pain of Haitians. Cruise passengers want to soak up the sun and spend money somewhere; it might as well be in Haiti. Besides, Royal Caribbean has been transporting tons of relief supplies and personnel on its ships. The cruise industry has stepped up to help Haitians.

This sensitivity issue pops up every time there's a natural disaster in a vacation destination. Travelers stop arriving, either out of guilt or a wish not to ruin their vacations with views of damage or pain.

Yet, following disaster assistance, what is the second plea of ravaged vacation areas, such as Haiti or New Orleans? 

Vacationers: Please come back. We need your tourism dollars.

Royal Caribbean and its passengers would be doing no favors to Haiti by taking their vacation business elsewhere.

Carnival Dream, cruising in a cove balcony cabin

On a Caribbean cruise, I am sleeping this week in something new. Carnival Cruise Line calls it a cove balcony cabin.

My cabin on the new Carnival Dream is close enough to the water that when the seas churn I can sit on my balcony and get an eyeful of the violence created by a 130,000-ton ship plowing through a turbulent ocean. It’s a great show of spray and froth, though not for everyone, I suspect.

The cove balcony cabins (third row up in picture at right, above the row of portholes and the row of windows) were designed for Carnival, and are available only on the Carnival Dream, the company’s newest and biggest ship. The Dream, which holds up to 4,631 passengers in 1,823 cabins, sails out of Port Canaveral, Fla., each Saturday on seven-night trips to the Caribbean.

Cruising south, searching for the sun

The icy breath of winter followed me all the way to Cuba.

I have been heading south from Ohio since Jan. 2, and finally, yesterday afternoon, off Cuba’s northern coast, I found the 60s, full of wind and churning seas. The air contained enough warmth that I sat outside, wrapped in a blanket, and gave thanks.

There’s a lesson here somewhere, that to escape the dead of winter, it’s best to get on a plane and don’t get off until at least San Juan.

Instead, I inched my way south, leaving Cleveland at 16 degrees, finding Hendersonville, N.C., at 18, and Orlando, Fla., in the 40s and 50s.

On Saturday, from Port Canaveral, the Carnival Dream sailed south in surreal seas covered in a film of fog, as the January ocean was significantly warmer than the air.