Musing on the Mediterranean - Part 2
Week 2 - Non,
Je Ne Regrette Rien
Sun., June 3.
Livorno Que Brutta!
Pardoxically, the uninspired industrial port of
Livorno, with enormous fields of new cars extending far as the eye can see,
serves as Grandeur’s unflattering gateway to Pisa, Florence and the inspiring
glories of Renaissance Tuscany. While the passengers disembark, boarding busses
to visit them, we stay on board to shoot … Up pre-dawn to shoot the Izumi, then
the Concierge Lounge. Both look
perfect, thanks to my pre-planning, and help from Chef Travis and Co. in Izumi,
and Raj and chefs in the Concierge Club.
A bonus: an espresso machine, a real macchiato to toast another jewel in
the can.
A quick work-out, a few meetings. Patience and diplomacy are key on board: asking busy, underpaid people to work
extra hours, frequently at odd hours, requires a delicate touch. Both Teams A and B shoot the
Casino. At sunset, Julien and I
capture the Spa Reception, Relaxation Room (which requires some emergency redecorating)
and Fitness Center. A last-minute
pedicure appointment foils our plan to shoot the Salon as well. Here, our charm can’t save the day;
again we have to defer to the passengers and the ship’s operations.
We finish late and miss dinner, and have to resort
to the god-awful late–night snack bar at the Park Café. Consolation: A nighttime walk on the upper decks. The silver reflection
of an enormous full moon over the smooth sea fades off like a highway into
infinity. A perfect moment.
At the very start of the trip, I told the universe
in no uncertain terms that after much work and preparation – over ½ a century -
I was finally ready to receive my ultimate happiness. I asked it to make this a magical trip, a veritable
jubilee. Have it be the catalyst
which generates a steady stream of Right Work, which finally brings me The
Right One with whom I’m meant to spend what’s left of my life. The universe has another week to
deliver this, but I wonder if it may be bringing me something else, something
important –
Mon., June 4.
Civitavecchia.
We dock at Civitavecchia, another unattractive
industrial port of cargo ships and Hanjin containers. At least we have the vast
expanse of the Mediterranean on one side. The blues of the Mediterranean look
like no others in the world – bright azure to deep cobalt, sexy and
sexual. Darker and richer than the
waters of the tropics, more ancient and soulful. Bracingly cold, then embracing and welcoming. I have yet to dip my toes into it this
trip … Yikes - We have to temporarily displace a RCCL staffer this morning to
shoot an important stateroom category.
Passengers disembark to visit Rome; we stay on board, again taking
advantage of the their absence to shoot the Chef’s Table and the big
Theatre. Tony asks me to appear at
the Chef’s Table with the models, then changes her mind. I change into, then out of, my pretty
party dress … (Forgot to mention the first time I was cast as background: just out of the shower, hair dripping,
I receive an urgent call from Toni, who needs me looking gorgeous and glamorous
immediately in Chops. I get it
together in 5 minutes; then get to savor the props for dinner.) A quick workout, a quick dinner, then
Julien and I dash up to the Viking Crown Lounge and Nightclub to catch the
sunset streaming in its floor-to-ceiling windows.
Another night at sea lit by a stunning full moon. Did
I mention how thoroughly wonderful it is to be in one of the most romantic
places on earth – single and alone?
Tues., June 5. Arrivederci, Capri.
We arrive early morning in the port of Naples. A surprisingly beautiful approach from
the water. (I hear it’s not so nice
on land.) From the deck I see rows
of majestic, multi-arched building facades, domed ceilings, walled fortresses
clinging to the hillsides. Then
we’re off to a full day on the gorgeous island of Capri, if we survive the rough
hour-long vaporetto ride. I’m this
close to hurling, no barf bags in sight –
We disembark and immediately leave the pretty but
chaotic Marina Grande and take the funicular up to Piazza Umberto I, a.k.a. the
Bell Tower. A few panoramic shots
with the models here and there as we meander through the narrow, winding
streets looking for picturesque points in the tony, wealthy area. Stunning angles everywhere you turn: buildings
perched along the hillsides painted white, yellow and orange, lushly landscaped
terraces; cypress, banyan and pine trees; citrus groves with lemons as big as a
newborn’s head; flowering cacti everywhere; gardens exploding with
bougainvillea. We stop at a former
Franciscan nuns’ retreat and ask permission to shoot on its lovely balcony
overlooking the port and the azure Mediterranean. More meandering, mouths agape at the island’s sublime
marriage of man- and nature made.
I am awed and comforted seeing this perfect, peaceful harmony, knowing
that yes, we do indeed have the ability to cooperate with Mother Earth and co-create
such beauty and balance. If we can
achieve a nirvana on earth here on this pretty rock, we have the capacity to do
it anywhere. Everywhere.
We stop for an al fresco lunch on a gorgeous walking
street at the very pretty café at the Morano. Toni and I split a pizza, my first since arriving in Italia,
and una Salada Nizzaratta. Squisito, ma the presentation could
be better. (I mean, plastic
containers at a café in Capri?
Really?) I get my first “que bella”
from our handsome and charming waiter: I’ve officially arrived in Italy. We take some gorgeous café shots
on the ristorante’s other terrazzo right across the street while having our gelato e caffé. La
dolce vita quando lavorare. It
doesn’t get any better than this. Well, maybe if I was in love and he was here, too…
Then on to Capri’s famous and iconic Faraglioni
Rocks. Stunning view of the cliffs
and coast from the gardens. Managia! Feels like we just arrived but it’s already time to leave –
there’s so much more we could have captured. Non voglio partire! Last time I visited this part of the
world, I was traveling with my sister Catherine via Rome, Veroli (my
grandfather’s birthplace) and the Amalfi Coast (Vesuvius, Positano, Sorrento) en
route to see Pascal, who was working as a musician at a Club Med in
Sicily. I remember the delicious
feelings of excitement, passion, love, possibility, infinity … Lost
forever? Will I ever experience
this heightened sense of aliveness again in this body before I die? Swept up in a wave of melancholia until
I realize we’ll come back to Italy, to Venezia, in a just few days. We board the dreaded vaporetto, thankfully
a much calmer ride on the return; Capri shrinks, then fades away completely, in
the distance. Ciao Capri, ciao bellezza
-
No time for dinner. A quick workout before Julien and I shoot the Diamond Lounge
and Conference Room at sunset. Fernando, Lounge Manager, invites us to eat the props, so I
scarf down some yummy canapés for dinner as we discuss the last
minute changes for the next morning.
The time change – shit, we lose an hour! – has thwarted my carefully
planned sunrise shoot of the Solarium, Park Café and Windjammer, all on Deck
9. Clutch contingency plan: Great Gatsby, the big formal dining
room. Which, upon meeting with Cemhur,
the Turkish maitre d’ whose name I can’t pronounce and whose accent I can
barely understand, proves much more complicated in actual execution than in
theory. But he sincerely promises
to make it happen as per our special needs and my instruction – potential
disaster averted.
With the time change, it’s already 11:30pm by the
time I get back to my room. Looks
like about 5 hours of sleep for me tonight, again. Week 2 and I have yet to shake this mental haze of
fatigue. Suck it up, sister: Experiencing Barcelona was way more
important than sleeping off the initial jetlag. Alas, I’m still paying the price. No longer a spring chicken, I must give myself credit for
functioning quasi-fully on such a substantial sleep deficit for such an
extended period … not bad for an old gal.
Wed., June 6.
Rounding the boot …
Even though I’m up before 5am to shoot the Gatsby,
I forget to go out on deck to see the pre-dawn view as we pass through the
narrow Strait of Messina between Italy’s toe and Sicily. With the usual arranging and tweaking,
the grand dining room looks great.
Like thieves in the night, we shoot, and we’re gone before anyone’s the
wiser. Nothing else on the work
agenda until we shoot Julien’s cabin at sunset, so we’re free in between and
can help out Team A. Time for a quick
cardio work-out. A surprise group dinner
at Chops tonight. Toni has really been spoiling us this trip. We gorge ourselves on steak, filet
mignon, fish, decadent desserts.
Not to mention the red wine.
Because I preset the cabin, I can relax in Chops while Julien shoots
without me!
Toni has requested shots of the “Wow” show, aerial
numbers that take place in the ship’s Centrum. This first one, pretty girls in furry white costumes
descending on swings to pour champagne, feels more “meh” than “wow” –
Strange coincidence that I begin re-reading Paulo
Coehlo’s “The Alchemist”, a story of finding and following one’s Personal Legend. I read it twice before and found it
thin and wanting, perhaps because despite my best efforts all the universe has
not conspired to help me achieve mine.
Or has my vision been obscured by distractions, leading me away from my
true destiny? Wonderful to ponder
this possibility on one’s jubilee -
Thurs., June 7. Athens, Greece:
Une Faccia, Una Racia.
Up at 5am to shoot Windjammer, Solarium and Park
Cafe. I’m already sweaty from removing nets in the pool, moving furniture. While having breakfast in the
Windjammer I witness the ship’s perfect, slow-mo backing into the dock of the
port of Piraeus, just south of Athens.
This afternoon we’re scheduled to shoot Grandeur’s shopping deck - all 5
of its boutiques, as well as the center shopping islands. But that’s not until 2:00 in the
afternoon. Which means we have the
morning free to go into Athens! Oopah! Another unscheduled, unexpected
bonus!
Rather than join the Francophone photog boys in
Piraeus so Michel can buy his postcards and Skype his mother, I opt to visit the
Acropolis and the Plaka with Toni, the talent, Giacomo and Nathalie. Elaine uses some nonsensical excuse to
stay on board. Crazy. Such a generous, overly sensitive soul …
Assisted by a policeman, we negotiate fares with 2 taxi drivers. They navigate through speeding cars and
scooters ridden by helmetless riders holding their dry cleaning and balancing four
coffees in those multi-cup holders –
After some fancy driving on busy highways past the
2004 Olympic Stadium and narrow back roads, the taxis drop us at the foot of
the Acropolis, sitting imposingly atop a mountain in the center of town. We walk past the new museum and climb
the forested hillside to the entrance. The view from the site alone is well worth
the 12 euro entrance fee: ethereal
shrines perched on neighboring hills, the temple of Athena in the valley; the
ship in the distance with the blue Ionian Sea behind it. Continuously under
excavation, with cranes and scaffolding here and there, but who cares. The Parthenon commands the site, overseeing
the amphitheatres now used for outdoor opera, the temples, the frieze of the 6
goddesses. Crap, I forgot my camera.
Which allows me to ignore the crowds and just be here in the place,
enjoy this space, the cloudless skies, its timeless perfection.
We regroup and wind our way down through the streets
of the Plaka for a quick coffee (ambrosia of the gods!) and a bit of shopping
before heading back to the ship. I
buy a cute Grecian looking top made of green and gold Greek cotton. These are
tense times in Greece: the upcoming election mid-month will determine whether
the country stays in the EU, in the euro-zone. (They do.) I
notice a distinct difference in the Athenian people: while still abrupt, they seem far more friendly and
accommodating then the only other time I visited in 1988 with Gerard. (Our first encounter upon arrival was
with a taxi driver who charged us triple the real cost of a ride from the
airport.) Guess economic hardship
makes people nicer. At lunch back on board, the photog boys tell of their
adventures in Piraeus, where the country’s famous financial woes were far more
apparent. Store closings, empty
billboards, homeless people.
Distressing. Didn’t see any of it – just the quiet grace of Athen’s past
and the crazy chaos of its present -
The entire Boutiques staff is waiting for us at
2pm, a good thing because they didn’t receive the memo that Julien and I need
the entire shopping area – inside and outside – completely set up for our
virtual tours. We take 2 exteriors
as well as interiors of all 5 shops while Michel shoots his lifestyle with the models.
Shops in the can, we then more to
take a safety of Latte-tudes Cafe, even though the light isn’t right.
A quick work-out before Team A shoots the Viking
Crown at sunset. I appear in the
foreground reading a book, watching the extraordinary sunset out the floor to
ceiling windows … I love my job. A
moment of true contentment, peace, and appreciation.
Fri., June 8.
Mykonos. Windswept and
wonderful.
The 5-minute tender ride drops us at Mykonos’ pretty
main port. A stunning
approach. Dazzling buildings,
blindingly white, lining the shore and sculpted into the hills. We first stop to capture the big resident pelican at his/her preferred
café. He/she totally works it, picking
up sticks in an effort to either show off or fend off the onslaught of models,
crew and cameras. We walk the painted
cobblestones of the winding, labyrinthine pathways, one prettier than the next,
past shops, churches, cafes, bars, tavernas and nightclubs. Despite the abundance of religious
shrines, this is definitely a party town by night, a gay summertime haven. Wouldn’t mind spending a week or 2 here
before the marauding hordes arrive. Then off to the famous row of windmills,
unfortunately lacking their sails.
Still beautiful. A few café
shots at Zorba’s (really) with me in the background –
Julien is sent to shoot from another vantage point. A bit outside of town off the beaten
path, we climb up a windy hill to get a panoramic view of the ship, port, sea,
and iconic windmills. This is
definitely money shot; Grandeur looks quite grand in this idyllic Aegean
setting.
Back in the port, I stop to light a candle for the
dead relatives at the tiny shrine.
A few shots of the marina before we stop for lunch at an open-air
restaurant on the beach. Finally,
my toes touch the waters of the Mediterranean! We then gorge on local Greek specialties – grilled octopus,
tzatziki, salads, honey yogurt, real baklava, local beer. Thanks again, Toni!
After lunch, we have some time off to shop or swim
before regrouping to shoot the colorful waterfront houses. Alas, I discover my wallet isn’t where
it should be. Fortunately, I later
find that I dropped it in Nathalie’s shoe bag rather than my own by mistake; but
unfortunately, I now can’t do any shopping. So I walk around talking photos, happening upon the gorgeous
white church, the red-domed shrine, religious iconography …
Last shots of the day at a waterfront café near the
colorful wooden houses, followed by a few precious moments to linger before we
have to board. Never long enough. Inevitably the comparison between
Mykonos and Santorini come up.
Michel prefers the drama of Santorini, its 2 tiny towns perched high atop
of the sunken crater. I think they
both have their charms. Not ready
to leave …
On board, I so want to go to the pool party tonight
but know I’ll be a zombie for tomorrow’s sunrise blue if I do. After a beautiful day, no fun for me
tonight. I feel the disconnect
between our on board experience and the passengers’ -
Sat., June 9.
Katakalon, Peloponnesus.
Pre-dawn rendez-vous to shoot the Centrum, R Bar, and
Latte-tudes. 5:15am; we wait
impatiently for the bartender to open and set up the bar. Very important that we capture this new
venue. I have to call Dan, Bar
Manager, at 5:30am to get someone down here when it becomes apparent his original
guy will no-show. Poor Dan gets himself up and dressed; he opens and sets up the
bar and saves our shot, literally at the last minute. We dash over and eek out Latte-tudes before the sun rises
too high in the sky …
I have the rest of the morning off while Team A
shoots a cabin with Patrice and Mary Liz, then the big restaurant. I take the other couple, Annette and
Mark, up on their invitation to visit Katakalon and go to the beach. This appears to be one of those towns –
a few blocks of touristy shops, cafes, a pretty beach - birthed by the arrival
of the cruise ships. First stop on
the tour of Mt. Olympus and the 1st Olympic stadium. A dip in the acquamarine waters of an
empty beach, followed by a drink at its waterfront café where I get to know
Annette and Mark a bit better. (Funny
how quickly and easily people open up to one another on these things. This trip I hear of every stripe of family,
relationship and financial woe, not to mention the work-related personality
clashes, insensitive comments, hurt feelings and other grumblings bound to
arise on set. At least Michel has
found happiness with Lisa, and Julien continues to live in his simple and happy
family life in Lyons.) Mark and I
have lunch of just-caught octopus and calamari at a portside taverna. He’s nice enough for a Republican … I
spend the rest of the afternoon shopping, finding a few local gifts and a cool
wrap shirt of Greek cotton for me.
A final macchiato at the now crowded beachfront café before
boarding. So sad to leave.
That night Team A shoots Izumi, which means we all get
to have another sushi dinner here.
3 tables; the default lines of cliques materialize. Photogs with Toni; I sit with Giacomo,
Annette and Mark, who overorders. Daniel
and I feature in the background; I hear more about his hard knocks. Very bad situation, but we find things
to laugh about … Don’t have to get up in the morning, so despite my continued
fatigue I meet the talent, sans Mary Liz, at the Schooner for a quick cocktail
before beddy-bye.
Sun., June 10. At sea. Last
day on board. I’ve kept this
morning free as a safety, in the event Julien and I need to shoot something
unanticipated, and/or need to do a reshoot. We don’t, so I can sleep in, while Team A gets up before
dawn to shoot the pool and big screen.
(I make sure they don’t need me for background.) Time to go to the gym, check e-mails, pack,
close accounts, blog in the Solarium, and enjoy last looks of the blue
Mediterranean from the deck.
We disembark tomorrow. Bittersweet. We
have another 2 “Wow” shows to capture in the evening, and I invite Toni for a cocktail
at the R Bar between the performances.
Michel, Julien and the others join us, and Toni picks up their tab … I
walk the upper decks once or twice gazing up at the stars before retiring with
my 2 cups of green tea … Good-byes and hugs to the staff and crew who provided invaluable help on this shoot, including Puneet and Simona in the restaurants, Mark on lights, and so many others, especially Nicholas, my sweet stateroom attendant, who got emotional when I thanked him before disembarking.
… 2 weeks ago, at the very start of the trip, I
told the universe in no uncertain terms that I was ready to receive my ultimate
happiness. I asked it to make this
a magical trip, have it be the catalyst which generates a steady stream of
Right Work, which finally brings me The Right One with whom I’m meant to spend
what’s left of my life. So it’s
now or never. Will the universe
fail me again? It still has Venice
and another day to deliver. I’ve
waited over 50 years; I can wait another 50 hours.
Mon., June 11. Venezia!
I see the dramatic arrival past St. Marks from my
stateroom porthole. (Which,
apparently, is much cause of contention:
the Grand Canal had to be dredged to accommodate the big cruise ships,
which may still be eroding the lagoon floor as they make their passenger-pleasing
entrance.) Our last Windjammer
breakfast, then hurry up and wait to disembark. Ciao, Grandeur! Weather’s kind of crappy; cloudy and threatening
to rain. Our guide Susanna meets
us on the pier and sees that our bags make it to the hotel without us. She ushers us into a private water taxi
that brings us to St. Mark’s Square via the beautiful Grand Canal. For the first time in 30 years, I’m in Venezia! Stepping into St. Mark’s, I need a
moment, nearly moved to tears. We have special permission to shoot inside the
Doge’s Palace, and spend the morning in various rooms, halls and
staircases. After an hour shooting
gilded frescoes and waiting, I desperately need a macchiato and find one at the
café. Paradiso in a cup. That and an apple revive me from my
morning haze, and I’m ready for anything.
Have a nice chat with Mary Liz, our first real tete-a-tete of the
shoot. We have lunch at a pizzeria
before leaving the photogs and the models in 2 gondolas; we have the next 2
hours free …
L’Accademia, San Giacomo, Santa Margherita, Santa
Croce … we meander over canals and bridges to the students’ quarter to,
according to Giacomo, who lived here not long ago, the best gelato in
Italy. A quick but delicious
macchiato at a cafe in a pretty square before we go back to meet the photogs,
then off to Rialto and the old marketplace. Every turn of the head reveals a gorgeous angle, a
picture-perfect view. I just want
to walk down every street, over every bridge, stop in every store, sit at every
caffe. I conspire to change my plane
ticket so that I can stay an extra day or two, but find I can’t do it on
line. The Carlton, our beautiful hotel
right on the Grand Canal across from the train station, could accommodate
me. If only ...
A much-needed shower before we sit down to our last
group dinner, al fresco at a wonderful ristorante on a canal just a few minutes
from the hotel. Fuck it - I order
pasta, wine, dessert, the works.
One last night of la dolce vita.
After dinner, not ready to leave Venice, Toni and I take a longish
stroll and have our last heart-to-heart.
She has lots going on, not all of it good. I hope that just being able to vent in confidence relieves
some of her burden.
Tues., June 12. Back to life, back to reality.
Another shower, a brief hang with Michel and Julien
in the hotel lobby, and off to bed around midnight. No sleep for the weary in anticipation of our 4am wake up
for the 5am pick-up. A somber
water taxi ride to the Venice airport, where we are greeted by the typical
boarding melee further complicated by the plethora of luggage. Elaine disappears. We get some real caffe and pastacceria
thanks to Mark’s AA SkyLounge membership.
A very awkward good-bye to the models and Nathalie the Madrid
Airport. I’m continuing on to NYC
with Elaine, though she keeps herself scarce most our layover and flight. Shoot is truly, officially over.
Unseasonably cold and wet temperatures, the usual
chaos and rudeness of JFK followed by the usual grime and onslaught of the MTA.
Feels like I’m been traveling all day.
Home at 6ish; passing out fully dressed before 8ish. I sleep until for nearly 14 hours, up
once in the middle of the night for 2 hours to shower and change before passing
out again… I wake to a very disturbing revelation: for the last 3 decades I’ve been living on the wrong
continent. Home is where the heart
is, and my heart has never been here. Yes, I love New York.
But I don’t like it. Never
did. The frenetic pace, the summer
heat, the distorted values, the dirt, the lack of attention to and insistence
upon beauty, the unnecessary complications of everything. I came back because of money, because
of a man, because of my family.
Not because of a desire to return.
This presents a most daunting challenge: What do I
do with this revelation, now, at this advanced stage of life? Nothing? Suck it up, accept my fate and live it out half-heartedly in
my hometown? Or seriously
soul-search and consider options – including moving and finding work - and take
steps to make it happen? With
nothing keeping me here – no children, no relationship, no dream job - what do
I do with my jubilee? Perhaps this
void I’ve been sensing, the lack of obvious options is in itself the
opportunity: a tabula rasa on
which to compose Act 2.
Another birthday, another commencement of another
“new year”. July’s horoscope for
Cancerians supports my sense of restlessness and yearning for change. It says that the next 12 months will
serve as preparation for what promises to be one of the best years of our life:
"While the full moon of July 3 will mark an ending, the new moon of
July 19 will mark the opening of a new path. It is, very simply, your birthday
new moon, to use in any area of life you choose. We hardly ever get a new moon
that is so broad in scope, but you have it now, so use it in any way that can
make the biggest positive impact. Think deeply about your dreams and select one
with the largest potential to work on now.
This year, the tide is about to take out a few fixtures in your life,
whether those include a friend or others, ongoing career commitments, or other
things that you have come to depend on. You need to give up several things so
that you can make room for new elements to replace the old - those will be more
exciting.
You are about to arrive at one of your best years of your life, to begin
at the end of next year, June 2013, but you have to be ready for it. The tide
will not take out any mainstays that you need and that are still relevant to
you. It will only take out the marginal things, so go with the flow. Have trust
that a number of golden opportunities and important people who can help you
will materialize your dreams in mid-2013 to help you start a completely new
12-year cycle ..."*
What
shall I let flow out with the tide?
What shall I write on this tabula rasa?
*Cancer:
AstrologyZone’s July Horoscope by Susan Miller http://astrologyzone.com/forecasts/monthly/cancer_full.php
© 2012 Tess
Quadrozzi, A-Muse-In-Manhattan
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