No matter where you go, there you are.

We're finally here, the Viking Sun, our home for the next five months.  Although I didn't think I was nervous, I finally relaxed after setting foot on the gangway (I refrain from using "gangplank," as I think it has a negative connotation.) 

Sighs of relief that this is actually a reality after a year and a half of anticipation.  During the past week I've had visions of forgetting our passports, falling on black ice, eating bad pistachios or similar calamities.  Thankfully, the worst that's happened is that I've forgotten to pack Bob's underwear.  I'm checking to see if we can get an Amazon order in LA. 

I had done the 360 degree visual tour of the Viking Sun a few times and I must say, that doesn't do it justice.  It's really spectacular-sleek and modern and still extremely comfortable and thoughtfully laid-out.  We continue to discover secluded nooks as well as the practical features in our stateroom, including a heated bathroom floor.

This morning we went to a Port Talk at which we were told what to expect on our overnight to Havana, distilled to "Bathrooms are not plentiful or necessarily clean.  The drive to Havana will take 3 or 4 hours.  The bus will have a bathroom, but it might not work.  The government owns the buses.  The hotel is 3-4 stars.  It has water, although it might not be hot.  The food in the hotel restaurant won't be very interesting.  The government owns the hotels. Etc."  This trip is highly recommended.