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quote: My eldest son Johnny's fifteenth birthday is exactly one week from today. Exactly one week from my fifteenth birthday, on July 25, 1974,my family and I sailed out of New York harbor eastbound transatlantic on FRANCE. Because that transatlantic crossing (and subsequent westbound) was such an intensely memorable time during my adolescence, today I have a special understanding and empathy for this particular time in my son's life.While to me, at the time, the ship was the main event; it is interesting what my memory tells me today about the importance of the shipboard experience. Yes, FRANCE was a fantastic ship. The elegance of those interiors defies the photography of the day and the food andservice unmatched. But it was the missed opportunity of an awkward teenager that exposes the real magic of life on board an ocean liner.My family and I were happily ensconced in the Perigord "Suite" on Upper Deck, really one large deluxe outside cabin with an adjoining inside with bunks for my sister and I. Incredibly shy and awkward with girls, I somehow caught the fancy of one especially enchanting and decidedly not awkward blonde debutante. I remember watching her making that famous "grande descente" in the Chambord almost nightly, and staring at her across the dance floor of the Riviera. We exchanged glances and quick hellos in passing on the promenade, mine clumsy and hers anything but.One night, late in the crossing, our paths crossed yet again. She was outside the Fountainebleau with a few friends and I was en route toteenage solitude somewhere. She stopped me and told me that she and her friends were going down to Tourist "where the fun people are" andwould I join them? Practically breathless, I agreed.She led me and her friends through the not so secret portal on one of the staircases onto Promenade Deck and the night was new again. Wemade our way to the St. Tropez which was clearly the place to be. My heart racing, we stepped onto the packed dance floor.Anxiety and fear suddenly hijacked my adolescent hopes for an exciting night at sea. I was bewildered by the wild, no-partner dancing, thecrowd, and the brightly-lit contrast to the relatively soft sparkle of First Class. I was stunned by the crazy zaniness of what was then being marketed as "Left Bank". I was scared, separated, and whatseemed like worlds away from the protections of mom, dad, sis, and of course Eve, my trusty first class manservant for the week. I just didn't belong! After losing sight of my tantalizing temptress, I made a hasty retreat back to the nurturing luxury of Verandah Deck.We saw each other once again. It was my fifteenth birthday, the last day in July and the afternoon of the morning FRANCE docked at LeHavrefor one of the last times. She was a few tables away having lunch in the garden courtyard at the Ritz. We exchanged one last glance; shesmiled, but the spark was gone. The spark had disappeared along with the hope of shipboard romance and the magic of life on a real oceanliner crossing.As we made our memorable way down the Hudson on that midsummer eveningin 1974, my only prior shipboard experience was an 11-day Caribbean Cruise on ROTTERDAM (V) four years previously. At almost 15, Johnnyhas sailed eastbound transatlantic on QUEEN MARY 2 and has a total of 41 sea days under his belt on CENTURY, GALAXY, INFINITY and OOSTERDAM. While I didn't cross another gangplank from 1974 until 1998, Johnny already looks forward to FREEDOM OF THE SEAS this June and QUEENVICTORIA's maiden Canary Islands cruise in December 2007.Fifteen-year olds don't seek too much advice from their dads these days, but if Johnny asks, I will tell him that life is way to short not to stay in the St. Tropez.Best liner regards,John Schlichting in Gaithersburg, MD
While to me, at the time, the ship was the main event; it is interesting what my memory tells me today about the importance of the shipboard experience. Yes, FRANCE was a fantastic ship. The elegance of those interiors defies the photography of the day and the food andservice unmatched. But it was the missed opportunity of an awkward teenager that exposes the real magic of life on board an ocean liner.
My family and I were happily ensconced in the Perigord "Suite" on Upper Deck, really one large deluxe outside cabin with an adjoining inside with bunks for my sister and I. Incredibly shy and awkward with girls, I somehow caught the fancy of one especially enchanting and decidedly not awkward blonde debutante. I remember watching her making that famous "grande descente" in the Chambord almost nightly, and staring at her across the dance floor of the Riviera. We exchanged glances and quick hellos in passing on the promenade, mine clumsy and hers anything but.
One night, late in the crossing, our paths crossed yet again. She was outside the Fountainebleau with a few friends and I was en route toteenage solitude somewhere. She stopped me and told me that she and her friends were going down to Tourist "where the fun people are" andwould I join them? Practically breathless, I agreed.
She led me and her friends through the not so secret portal on one of the staircases onto Promenade Deck and the night was new again. Wemade our way to the St. Tropez which was clearly the place to be. My heart racing, we stepped onto the packed dance floor.
Anxiety and fear suddenly hijacked my adolescent hopes for an exciting night at sea. I was bewildered by the wild, no-partner dancing, thecrowd, and the brightly-lit contrast to the relatively soft sparkle of First Class. I was stunned by the crazy zaniness of what was then being marketed as "Left Bank". I was scared, separated, and whatseemed like worlds away from the protections of mom, dad, sis, and of course Eve, my trusty first class manservant for the week. I just didn't belong! After losing sight of my tantalizing temptress, I made a hasty retreat back to the nurturing luxury of Verandah Deck.
We saw each other once again. It was my fifteenth birthday, the last day in July and the afternoon of the morning FRANCE docked at LeHavrefor one of the last times. She was a few tables away having lunch in the garden courtyard at the Ritz. We exchanged one last glance; shesmiled, but the spark was gone. The spark had disappeared along with the hope of shipboard romance and the magic of life on a real oceanliner crossing.
As we made our memorable way down the Hudson on that midsummer eveningin 1974, my only prior shipboard experience was an 11-day Caribbean Cruise on ROTTERDAM (V) four years previously. At almost 15, Johnnyhas sailed eastbound transatlantic on QUEEN MARY 2 and has a total of 41 sea days under his belt on CENTURY, GALAXY, INFINITY and OOSTERDAM. While I didn't cross another gangplank from 1974 until 1998, Johnny already looks forward to FREEDOM OF THE SEAS this June and QUEENVICTORIA's maiden Canary Islands cruise in December 2007.
Fifteen-year olds don't seek too much advice from their dads these days, but if Johnny asks, I will tell him that life is way to short not to stay in the St. Tropez.
Best liner regards,John Schlichting in Gaithersburg, MD
[ 03-27-2006: Message edited by: desirod7 ]
[ 03-27-2006: Message edited by: Mariposa ]
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