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Cruise with Toulouse: Cave Tubing in Belize

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Tubers braving the watery caves

“Belize has some of the best cave tubing in the world!” Nina said gleefully to me in our stateroom aboard the Carnival Dream. That was supposed to make me feel better? Can you visualize me—the cool travel cat—roaring down some underground river, getting soaking wet, fur a tangle and not even seeing where we’re going? I gave her my best scowl but she wasn’t looking; she’d dropped her  gaze to study her papers.

There was no way out of it. I knew. She’d booked us on what’s become the “most popular shore excursion in Belize” and the ship had just anchored off the port of Belize City.

“Come on!” she said. “You don’t want to miss the adventure of a lifetime!” That’s what I was worried about. I wasn’t ready for my life to be over just yet. Nina seized me by the tail, like she always does when she’s excited, and stuffed me into her day pack. Maybe she’d have the compassion to leave me inside the backpack that would be left behind in the bus. That was wishful thinking.

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Approaching the cave (of doom)

We left our sanctuary behind and met our bus near the pier at Belize City. Our tour guide was a native Rastafarian, who looked  far too cheerful and whose first words were, “Are we flexible?” My little pile stomach turned. This wasn’t going  to be my day, I thought.

As the bus wove through the milling traffic of Belize City, Jack cheerfully described the rather turbulent history of this  major port and financial and industrial hub of Belize. Belize City was once a small Maya town called Holzuz. Because of its location by the sea and because the Belize River empties there, the British found Belize City ideal for shipping logwood and mahogany.  The city was real popular with hurricanes too, it seems. One came through in 1931 and more recently Hurricane Hattie swept through the city in 1961, destroying huge portions. “Are we flexible?”The bus parked at the Caves Branch Archeological Reserve. Grinning like a fool, Nina pulled me out of her pack and stuffed me into her pocket. I had one last longing look at her blue backpack before she leapt out of the bus to join the others.

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Hitting the rapids of the Caves Branch River

After we received our giant black tube (of death) Nina joined the rest of our party on a hike through Belize jungle in the Reserve. I didn’t see any naughty monkeys, poisonous snakes, or jaguars thankfully. That didn’t mean they weren’t there. We climbed stone staircases that wound into deep caves, known to  house hundreds—if not thousands—of bats. I didn’t look up.

That was bad enough… then Nina decided to check out the acoustics inside the cave with her signature Olympic Elk call. No one should be subjected to that kind of torture, especially a poor cat about to get drenched. A few blazing stares from fellow adventurers soon quieted her down.

When I caught my first glimpse of the Sibun Caves Branch  River, my tiny heart went pitter patter. I knew it was even

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A lone tuber emerges from the dark cave

worse when I saw a rope tautly stretched across the river at human hip level. “No problem, Toulouse!” Nina assured me as she plunged into the river and waded across, tube slung over her left shoulder and rope clutched in her right hand. My heart raced like a Ferrari at an Indi race when she slipped on a slippery rock and wavered. But she recovered with a giddy laugh and patted me on the head.

We wove around tangles of buttressed roots and vines, rich with the pungent scents of exotic flowers, to our final destination: a quiescent bend in the river before it narrowed and churned toward the yawning mouth of a cave. The cave entrance dripped with Spanish moss and epiphytes harboring snakes and heaven  knows what else. My little heart beat like a tiny drum. If stuffed cats could scream this was the time to do it.
Nina grinned down at me and jammed me further into her pocket. Once she’d determined that I was safely tucked
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The jungle of Belize

inside, she slapped her tube into the water and waded in, poised over it. Then, in a rather ungraceful halting move she let herself “fall” into the tube with a bounce and we were launched. Hulario, our guide, got a dozen of us to link together, intertwining feet and elbows, into a long snake that would meander down the river through the inky blackness of these sodden caverns. Everyone wore a little headlight on their head. It’s not what you think. The light they give off in the  black cavern is too miniscule to make a difference to the bearer, Hulario informed us. The purpose of the light was so

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River Calamity: deflated tubes and egos

he could see us (in case one of us got separated from the human “snake”. Sweet, as Nina would say (it’s all in the tone of voice).

Then, we were off, careering down the river, the spray of turbid grey-green water splashing my lovely fur coat, and Nina hollering with glee (I hate it when she gets like that). The first cave yawned ahead like giant jaws of Hell as the tube pitched over foot-high standing waves toward it. In no time we were sucked into the cave; we’d entered the bowels of hell. I noticed that the lights  made absolutely no difference to our ability to see. The cave was pitch dark and the currents pulled us here and there on a whim—or was it something else??? Hulario’s voice echoed in the watery cave: the Maya regarded these caves as the underworld, or Xibalba, he informed us. They used caves as a water source as well as for rituals, ceremonies and sacrifices. Water that dripped from stalactites was

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Toulouse getting dried off

used as holy water for ceremonies.

I sighed as we emerged into the daylight toward the last leg of our tubing adventure.

“Butts UP!” shouted Hulario, as we glided over the shallows. Several tubes shoaled up on gravel shallows and one of the human snakes broke up.

A few renegade tubers, who’d broken off from the human snake, found themselves flying into the fast part of the river (Nina called it the “thalweg” of the river—smart aleck limnologist!) where the current pulled them effortlessly into the thorny bushes. I heard a POP! One young “genius” seized an overhanging thorny branch to slow him down and cut his hand: “OW!” Followed by a POP! It was a Three Stooges show for the rest of us as we glided by the mayhem of wet sods as they negotiated the river’s challenging shoreline carrying their deflated tubes and egos.

When we reached the rope across the river, I knew our tubing adventure was over at last. Back onboard the Carnival Dream Nina dried me off with her hair-drier then consoled me with several French martinis.

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Now, this is more like it!

Ah, the life of a COOL travel cat…

Check out Cave-Tubing for prices and stuff. Here’s their contact information:

Email: info@cave-tubing.com
Phone: 011-501-605-1575

Photos by Nina Munteanu & others

This site is powered by donations. For your reading pleasure I do not clutter it with advertizing; nor do I charge any of these fine establishments, events or places for my reviews. If you are a patron who enjoys my articles or at the receiving end of one of my reviews you can show your appreciation with a donation (see right top sidebar). 

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Cruise with Toulouse: Climbing a Mayan Temple

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Main Temple of Chacchoben Mayan Site

There’s nothing like the end of the world to motivate your holiday plans.

So, when Nina roused me out of bed aboard the cruise ship Carnival Dream for a shore excursion to the Chacchoben Mayan Ruins of Costa Maya, I thought “why not?”

I always wanted to get a closer look at the place where those nasty “End of the World” rumors began …

Costa Maya is located on the Yukatan Peninsula, a limestone tableland of forests and mountains in southern Mexico, where the Mayan civilization colonized some 3000 years ago. The Mayans built incredible cities, particularly between 250 and 900 AD, when they advanced astronomy, math, and calendar-making equal to the ancient Greeks and Egyptians. They were doing all this, I might  add, at a time when Europeans were struggling in the pre-chivalry stage of the Dark Ages.
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"Ships Alley" at Costa Maya Pier

Serfdom and Feudalism reigned at the expense of creativity, learning and innovation. And let’s not forget that back then The Iron Maiden wasn’t the name of a rock band and dudes made a legitimate living in the torture business. There’s a reason it was called the Dark Ages. In the meantime, the Mayans were cutting out the hearts of children to sacrifice to Quetzalcoatl (Kukulcan), a bird-snake god, or Chac the rain god.

OK. Here’s the cool bit: The Mayan Long Count Calendar provides a

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Giant Kapok buttresses embrace ancient ruins in Costa Maya jungle

set period of cycles encompassing a 5,125-year era from the  Gregorian date of August 11, 3114 BC. The winter solstice of 2012 marks the end of an era (paralleling the Greek’s cycle of catastrophe, the End of the Age or Suntelia Aion) when the “wrathful father Sun will eclipse the dark rift at the centre of the Galaxy.” Okay…this is cool too: the mythical serpent of light resides in the heavens (the Milky Way) and viewed at the galactic central point (near Sagittarius) the serpent eats its own tail (the Ouroboros). In the mythical cycle of catastrophic change, the Suntelia Aion occurs when the sun rises out of the mouth of the Ouroboros, predicted to occur on the winter solstice of 2012. The movie 2012 capitalized on the hysteria that solar, seismic, volcanic electromagnetic and/or military activity will spark a physical catastrophe and destroy our world. Others believe that this “end

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Toulouse rests in front of the second temple

of an era” symbolizes the ushering in of a new era of global consciousness  and new respect for the planet.

Nina and I joined a bus tour to the Mayan ruins of Chacchoben, which means “place of red corn”. Once the tour group disembarked, we sidled away (sly grin) in search of adventure in the sultry jungle of Quintana Roo. Nina and I wandered among huge buttressed kapoks, acacias and palms, inhaling the pungent aromas of epiphytic orchids, hanging moss and other exotic plants. The jungle yielded her secrets grudgingly, I thought, as we picked our way

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Mayan Temple nestled in the Jungle

through the chaos of tree trunks and roots—locked in a twisted embrace around stone stairs and other ancient remnants. The ground was littered with kapok seed pods (they reminded me of something else; this is jaguar country…). Nina (in her Google-wisdom) informed me that the fiber inside is used as an alternative to  down as filling in mattresses, pillows, upholstery and stuffed toys. I know what you’re thinking; don’t even go there…

The jungle yielded three temple pyramids, all perfectly aligned. The main temple stood on the grassy terrace of El Gran Basamento, at the top of a huge stone staircase. I glimpsed no eerie serpent statues or bas-reliefs of jaguar god-men. But I experienced something far more dangerous.

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Toulouse climbs a Kapok tree

I was climbing the steep pyramid face of the third temple to catch a glimpse of the top which was used to track the sun’s path. Then froze. A bright red snake slithered out from a dark crack in one of the stairs just inches in front of me. Luckily, he didn’t feel like snacking—most snakes this size typically eat small reptiles, lizards, frogs and mammals (that’s me!). Instead, he wandered up the stairway, perhaps looking for a quiet place to sunbathe. Nina gasped. She snatched me and stuffed me in her bag.

“No more adventures for you!”

When we rejoined the tour, Nina described the snake to our guide. He also gasped and informed her that we’d come within inches of Costa Maya’s most deadly snake, the Coral Snake.

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Toulouse escapes a deadly snake!

As Nina walked back to the bus, jostling me in her backpack, I pointed out the haunting “meowing” notes of the Quetzal bird. But Nina was mumbling something to herself about knapsacks and didn’t hear. By the way, the Quetzal was prized by the Maya for its feathers and symbolizes freedom (Nina isn’t the only one who uses Google).

Well, I’d done a little reading myself and I blithely informed Nina that the snake I almost bumped into didn’t have the distinct bands of the venomous Coral Snake (they are known for their colorful red, yellow and black bands). With the exception of no obvious black “collar” neck and dull yellow/orange face, the colorations of our snake resembled Yukatan’s Red Coffee snake, often mistaken for the coral snake but perfectly harmless—unless you’re a small mammal (like me), that is. I suggested that my little snake “friend” might also have been a non-venomous Red Coachwhip snake, which also has a reddish braided body and tapered whip-like tail. In any case, all this is truly moot to me: any of them would have been happy to eat me, if they were feeling at all peckish. I am, after all, very good looking. :-3

Nina then pithily informed me that not all coral snakes show banding. And it was the right size (typically 20-30 inches long). Oh…

As we made our way back to the boat, I recalled something Drunvalo Melchizekek, Mayan spokesman, said in a presentation about 2012:

“…The world you know, that you live in, is not what you think it is. We modern people think the world is solid and real, and that nothing can change it…The Maya wish to inform you this is not true. The world is really images that can be controlled by consciousness, especially consciousness that is connected directly in the human heart.”

I guess that’s why I didn’t get eaten or zapped by the snake… “You don’t want to harm me…”

…I’m Toulouse LeTrek the COOL travel cat… :-3

Photos by Nina Munteanu

This site is powered by donations. For your reading pleasure I do not clutter it with advertizing; nor do I charge any of these fine establishments, events or places for my reviews. If you are a patron who enjoys my articles or at the receiving end of one of my reviews you can show your appreciation with a donation (see right top sidebar). 

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Cruise with Toulouse: Riding Harleys in Cozumel

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The Carnival Dream docked in Cozumel

“Get up, you lazy bones! Time to go onshore!” In her exuberance, Nina grabbed me by the tail (she isn’t always considerate when she’s excited) and cheerfully shoved me into her daypack. “We’ve landed in Cozumel!”

Docked! I corrected her from inside the pack, as she blithely rushed out of our stateroom and rode the glass elevator twelve stories down to where we would disembark. The word is docked!  Good thing I’m her editor, is all I can say.

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Toulouse on his Harley

As we got off the ship, Nina gave me a glimpse of the huge pier. Our first stop on the Carnival Dream cruise was Cozumel, an island in the Caribbean  Sea  off the eastern coast of Mexico’s Yucatan Peninsula. Cozumel means Island of the Swallows in Mayan and it’s the largest Atlantic island of Mexico with a low, flat and densely vegetated topography, based on limestone. The limestone has created some cool karst formations. For instance, Cenotes are deep water filled sinkholes formed by water percolating through the soft limestone over thousands of years; if you’re a qualified cave diver – and foolishly adventurous – you can get permission to explore Cozumel’s Cenotes. About twenty years ago some of those foolish adventurers discovered what is now recognized as the 5th largest underwater cave in the world.

The Maya first settled Cozumel in the early part of the 1st millennium AD. It was a place of pilgrimage and considered
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Toulouse with Carlos and Willy on Punta Sur

sacred to Ix Chel, the Maya Moon Goddess. In 1518 Hernán Cortés and his  fleet swept in like a dark storm, destroying a bazilion temples and eventually wiping out the locals with smallpox. Those were tough times for the Mayans. According to some researchers, by 1570 only a meager 30 people survived from the original 40,000 Mayan population. Those were the dark years, when the  deserted Cozumel became a hideout for pirates and refuges and other interesting eccentrics. Did you know that Abraham Lincoln almost bought the island as a place to send the freed slaves of the United States? But the drawn-out war in the Yucatan changed his mind.

Cozumel finally entered its golden years when Jacques Cousteau “blessed it” by discovering and popularizing its spectacular scuba diving in Cozumel’s coral reefs at Palancar. Even the destruction by Hurricane Wilma hasn’t slowed down Cozumel, which remains a popular tourist destination and currently boasts  over 90 restaurants. The locals, a wonderful mixture of Mayan and Spanish descent, are friendly, optimistic and cheerful people with a great sense of

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View of Punta Sur Beach from Lighthouse

humor and healthy outlook. Nina tells me they remind her of the cheerfully adaptive Thai people of Phuket, who after the devastation of the recent tsunami, just picked up the pieces and built it all up again within a short few years.

Cozumel is a popular charter fishing destination and offers some of the best scuba diving and snorkeling for our “Joe Tourist”. But Nina and I aren’t “Joe Tourist”… Besides, you may recall from my last post that I’m not particularly fond of water (I am a cat, after all, free to exercise the inalienable rights of my species). We did something far more exciting – and exotic:  we toured the island on Harleys! We saw the “wild side” of Cozumel.

Toulouse Rides a Harley

On the pier we met our guides, Willy and Carlos, two regular guys in black leather jackets and tattoos. Smiling like pirates, they led us to a lonely back parking lot, where we found our bikes. Nina chose a red and black 1200cc Sportster and I chose a blue one. What? You don’t believe I rode one all by myself? Take a look at the picture of me on the bike at Punta Sur, one of our stops!

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Locals and tourists mix at "Coconuts"

The tour was an exhilarating fur-raising ride along Cozumel’s cracked and warped roads with a view of its scenic shoreline. We took off from Sunset Beach and headed south through the ancient Mayan town of Cedral then continued south, salt air whipping through my fur, to Punta Celerain and the historic lighthouse at Punta Sur Ecological Park. Nina panted and huffed after me as I scampered up the 100-some steps to the top for a breathtaking view of the island’s surf and vast beach. I don’t know what her problem was: the stairs weren’t nearly as narrow, crooked, and worn as the crumbling Tower of Pisa (but that’s another story…). It was in the park that I met Charlie, the resident crocodile. Charlie’s presence in Cozumel, let alone North America, is an oddity. If you know anything about natural science and geography, you know that crocs are normally restricted to the “old continents” of Africa and Asia. North America and South America support alligators. The way I remember it is: “Nile” rhymes with crocodile and “Amazon” starts with an “a” like “alligator”.

It must have been the fresh sea air, because my stomach started to growl. Nina’s followed soon after and Willy got the message. We quickly mounted up and he navigated us along a windy back road to the main highway and the “wild side” of the island to “Coconuts Restaurant and Bar”. We dined on authentic Mexican cuisine at this funky seaside eatery and watched the

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Charlie (Max) the croccodile

locals cavorting and laughing. The open-air restaurant resembled something from an old James Bond movie, thatched palm-leaf roofs decorated with t-shirts, licence plates, surf boards and and beach-balls from across the world and support poles tattooed with business cards. Fearing the retarded dog that decided to park itself near us, I wandered off to the beach below, lured by deep sea-green surf, lava-shaped rocks and the sweet aroma of local herbs. Of course, no one told me that the beaches here allow partial nudity! Bonus for me. Nina was “put out” though; she’d panicked when she couldn’t find me.

After she found me on the beach, she shoved me back into her backpack where I stayed as we continued the last leg of the tour through Mezcalitos, and west toward the main town of San Miguel, where Willy showed us—well, Nina (I was still socked in the backpack)— where he lives. We then rode through San Miguel’s bustling downtown and finally returned to the pier’s back parking lot.

Nina relented (she can never stay mad at me for long) and let me out of the pack when Willy produced two bottles of Corona Beer to celebrate our cool 5-hour tour. It was a blast!

You can book your Harley Davidson Tour with Willy and Carlos through Sand Dollar Sports. sds@sanddollarsports.com From Canada call: 972-966-0616; from USA call: 1-888-737-6399; from Cozumel call: 987-872-0793 or 987-872-1884; fax: 987-872-6158. Tell them Toulouse sent you! :-3

This site is powered by donations. For your reading pleasure I do not clutter it with advertizing; nor do I charge any of these fine establishments, events or places for my reviews. If you are a patron who enjoys my articles or at the receiving end of one of my reviews you can show your appreciation with a donation (see right top sidebar). 

Photos by Nina Munteanu

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Cruise With Toulouse: Experiencing a Caribbean Cruise

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The Carnival Dream berthed at Costa Maya

Cats don’t generally like water; we’re civilized beings. We try not to get our silky fur wet. God made us so we didn’t need to bathe like humans; our little pink tongues do a most efficient job of cleaning.

Caribbean Cruises

So, when Nina suggested an ocean-going cruise in the Caribbean, I had a little panic attack and started panting. She can be rather surly and uncompassionate at times  by neglecting the needs of little animals, especially of the “stuffed” variety.

“They’ve got the coolest shore excursions in Cozumel, Belize, Roatan and Costa Maya,” she said while eagerly leafing through the pamphlet. “Where’s your sense of adventure?” I’d be leaving it behind me on dry land, I thought. “We’ll see ancient Mayan temples…” she continued gleefully. Weren’t they the ones who sacrificed little beings (possibly like me) to their gods? Nina blithely went on, “We get to walk through some awesome tropical jungles…” The kind with deadly snakes, poisonous plants and rodents… all who would enjoy a delectable bite-size snack like me. “And look here!” She pointed wildly with her finger. “Cave-tubing!” What was she thinking? Riding on—no IN—the turbid water of a pitch dark cave?  Was she insane? I took one look at her crazy-eyed grinning face and I knew we were going.
As the taxi drove us to the Cape Canaveral pier in Florida, I caught my first glimpse of the cruise boat.
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Toulouse enjoying a Bahama Mama on the Lido Deck of Carnival Dream

And gasped. The ship we were going to travel on was the Carnival Dream! I gaped at the 15-story high boat that resembled a small city and rested my gaze on the longest sea-waterslide (at 303 feet) perched atop the top deck. Nina grinned like an urchin. She’d known all along that I could handle this kind of water.

Aboard the Carnival Dream

The Carnival Dream is the latest in the Carnival line of luxury cruise ships to tour the Caribbean Sea; her maiden voyage took place only months ago when she sailed from the Fincantieri shipyard in Italy to New York in late September 2009. The Dream is Carnival’s largest ship at 130,000 tons and carrying 3,646 passengers. The Dream launches year-round seven-day Caribbean cruises and offers a wide variety of places to eat, relax, walk and enjoy the view. I enjoyed riding the coolest glass  elevator with a spectactular view of the Dream’s 11-deck high atrium; chilling in the Ocean Plaza, an

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View of the Waterslide from the Lido Deck

indoor/outdoor café; the Lido Deck open-deck lounge and seaside theatre; and the waves pool. The Dream also features an expansive spa (see a later post of mine) and more bars than a small town.

We boarded and got settled in our 12th deck (spa level) stateroom, complete with large comfy bed (I need my room!), couch and table and large balcony. After “mustering” for safety procedures, the ship set sail and we entered the open ocean. I admit that I felt some discomfort at the idea of being in the open sea where any trip off the boat was going to be a wet one. But I soon settled down as we explored our waterborne city of fun.

Fun Things to Do on a Cruise Ship

If you’ve never been on a cruise before—like me—you are in for a treat when you do. It’s an experience in affordable luxury. Cruise ships are like giant hotels that glide over the ocean and take you to exotic destinations for humans and cats alike. They do it safely and with lots of fun. Cruise ships offer a diversity of experiences to your individual taste. For instance, while Nina went out drinking and dancing to all hours of the morning with the marketing crowd, I laid back in the stateroom, ordered my favorite peanut butter and jam with milk through the 24-hour room service, and watched bad movies. Each day that we explored the ship, we found something new. Live entertainment varied from the cozy piano bar on Deck 5, a lively Mexican band on the Lido Deck to the Vegas-style shows and comedy acts all over the rest of the boat.

Like most exploration, it got a little dangerous. One day I’d strayed onto the mini-golf turf on the top deck and before I knew it someone had used me as a ball! Nina rescued me only to take me aft to the huge waterslide. Thankfully, she didn’t insist I get wet.

Of course, one of the best known aspects of a cruise is the food. Even those who don’t cruise know this. Fine dining happened every evening at the Scarlet and Crimson Restaurants. Nina could have left me at the Chef’s Art, a steakhouse and seafood restaurant. On the Lido Deck, The Indian Tandoor, served by a few surly Tandoori Nazis, was still well worth the insult. But don’t piss them off! They’ll shut their buffet windows right on your tender little paws if you do. When Nina lost me she knew she could always find me at either the Wasabi Sushi Bar or the Plaza Café Patisserie.

Nina rates cruises based on how many new exotic drinks she discovers that blow her socks off. She rated this cruise a 3. I gave it a 10! But she tells me that’s because I have less muscle mass. Or is it that I have no socks to blow off?

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Toulouse on the Mini-Golf field

We were introduced to the Bahama Mama on the Lido Deck by a fellow marketing passenger. Made of rum, grenadine, and pina colada mix, it’s a refreshing drink that sneaks up on you only after you’ve been compelled to have about five of them. We discovered the second drink thanks to me and then we ended up introducing it to the rest of the boat, practically. Nina had her sites on the traditional Vodka Martini (because of the olives) but I convinced her to try the French Martini after Tanya the bartender described it to us; it contains Chambord (French raspberry liqueur) and pineapple juice in addition to a generous portion of vodka. It packs a sweet punch.  The third drink was the special of the day suggested to us by one of the Lido Deck bartenders. The Tiramisu Martini was a funky drink trying to be a cake. I should have known better. Nina didn’t. She blithely drank hers down then watched in drunken blissful unconcern as various friends and total strangers came over to cuddle me and maul me and put me into embarrassing positions.

Ah… the life of a celebrity travel cat…

Next: “Cozumel by Bike—Toulouse Rides a Harley”

Cruise with Toulouse: find out about how you can join a cruise with your favorite traveling cat right here.

Photos by Nina Munteanu

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Toulouse LeTrek

new york 13 1 225x300 Toulouse LeTrek

Toulouse Savors New York

I’m Toulouse, the COOL travel cat!

I’ve traveled and tasted my way from Paris to Bangkok with side-kick, SF author Nina Munteanu. Some day I’ll write a book about our adventures. Somehow, they keep ending up in Nina’s SF stories… Lucky for her, she takes pretty good shots of me, like this one of me enjoying a rather brisk but complex Pinot Noir in Bryant Park, New York City.

This site is powered by donations. For your reading pleasure I do not clutter it with advertizing; nor do I charge any of these fine establishments, events or places for my reviews. If you are a patron who enjoys my articles or at the receiving end of one of my reviews you can show your appreciation with a donation (see right top sidebar). 

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