Roberta is a geek, part 1

Well, OK, so I made my living working around computers for 30 years, you have to figure there is some strain of geekiness in me. So I have a smart phone -- a Droid X -- the performance of which is currently being bogged down by the sheer number of quirky apps I have loaded on it.

And one of those quirky apps is a simulation of a Star Trek tricorder, complete with sound effects.

And one of the things the tricorder will tell me is my exact location in latitude and longitude. Right now, for instance, it tells me I am at 45 degrees 30.618 minutes north and 122 degrees 40.442 minutes west, which is within spitting distance of where Wikipedia says Portland is (45 degrees 31 minutes 12 seconds north, 122 degrees 40 minutes 55 seconds west).

And why have I dragged you through all this stuff? So I can jump up and down (metaphorically speaking) over the prospect of tagging my blog posts while on the world cruise with the latitude and longitude of where I am, even in the middle of the ocean!

I wonder whether that will actually work. I wonder how my smart phone will connect with GPS no matter where I am. I wonder whether the tricorder will still tell me the truth when I'm watching icebergs not sink my ship as we cruise around Antarctica. I wonder whether there's another app I could get that would work better.

See? Roberta is a geek.

OK, I know where I'll be sleeping

Diane, my travel agent, and I have identified which cabin I'll have on the ms Amsterdam when she leaves Ft. Lauderdale at 5 pm January 5, 2012: it's 3305, on the lower promenade deck, a cabin with a window looking out on a partially obstructed view of ocean and sky on the starboard side of the ship fairly far forward.

The "starboard side" part means that, as we sail along the Atlantic Ocean coast of South America, I'll be able to watch the land go by whenever we're in sight of land.

The "fairly far forward" part means I'll feel more of the motion of the ship. "But Roberta, aren't you worried about being seasick?" No, because I'm refusing to worry about that and am instead looking forward to feeling like I'm really in a big ship in the middle of the ocean.

The "partially obstructed view" part means the room costs less than one with an "unobstructed view", and I figure a chunk of ocean and a chunk of sky will be sufficient to let me keep track of whether it's day or night and whether that pitching and tossing I feel is because of the ship traveling through storms or because I've eaten too much rich food and am about to rid myself of most of it one way or the other.

See? I've got this thing under control. All except the "obsessive inability to think of anything else" part.

unexpected details

While poking around on the Web for information about world cruises, I came across one blog entry from 2006 that reported their ship being covered in ice as they cruised near Antarctica, closing the decks for passenger use. It was in February (when my cruise will be near Antarctica). Somehow, I was thinking "February, but southern hemisphere -- it will be summer!". I guess when you get that far away from the equator, summer is a relative term.

When I rode the TransSiberian Railroad with Elderhostel a couple years ago, we crossed Siberia, but at the way southern side of it. My idea of summer in Siberia is 75 degree sunny days, blooming flowers, and ripe produce. Probably if the tracks had gone through Yakutsk instead of Irkutsk, I'd have a more realistic idea of summer in the higher latitudes. Or is it longitudes? I need to get those straightened out.

The same blog entry reported that the ship's itinerary changed due to "security concerns in the western Indian Ocean". So I guess they will do their best to protect us from pirates. Pirates. Argh, matey!

This is going to be a real adventure. How will I survive the next 16 months?