Greetings from the Carnival Triumph

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Carnival Triumph, Carnival Triumph. That name is so familiar . . . Oh there it is -- pinned up in my cubicle. My postcard from the only cruise I've ever taken: Six days from Charleston to Nassau on the Triumph.

And yes, I did it in the name of The Observer. Back in 2005, I was approached by an editor who needed someone to take a cruise and write about it for the Travel section. Why me? Well, a big part of cruises is the food. And since I wasn't the type to take a cruise, she thought I could bring a different perspective. And, in the way life sometimes falls, I happened to have my passport up to date and ready to go.

In an early hint of the Triumph's cursed future, I had my own medical incident: Stepping into the locker room at the gym while the ship was docked in Nassau, a heavy iron portal slammed shut on the back of my sandal, sending me hand-first to the wooden slats covering the locker room floor. They summoned the harbor master and sent me to the hospital to put my right hand in a cast.

I had nothing but praise for the medical crew on the ship, though. Most were from Australia and they were all fun to talk to. One of the nurses even got my email address and sent me a couple of notes later that year about her own food adventures.

The whole floating city on the ship has my sympathy.

http://www.charlotteobserver.com/2013/02/14/3854733/confessions-of-a-cruise-ship-virgin.html