Arctic New York

Twice I've traveled north of the Arctic Circle, but yesterday visitors from north of the Arctic Circle came to my neighborhood in New York City.

After a heavy snowfall, I was walking in Battery Park at the southern end of Manhattan when I spotted some handsome birds swimming in the Hudson River. They proved to be brants — sea geese who summer in the Arctic and winter on the East Coast of the United States. I learned that they have glands that enable them to drink sea water and filter out the salt and that they like to eat eelgrass and crustaceans. I hope that New York gave them a friendly welcome.

My walk was rewarding in other ways as well. The architecture of trees and grasses was particularly beautiful against the snow, and the cold, moody skies seemed to suit Battery Park's war memorials and the sculpture formerly in the plaza of the World Trade Center, which is now in the park.

In general, I find there's a lot to be said for off-season travel. In addition to smaller crowds and lower prices, as I found yesterday, there can be wonderful, unexpected experiences.

Terese

To Cruise or Not to Cruise

Some of my friends tell me that they don't like cruises. Too much food. Too many people on the ships. Expensive shore trips that provide a glimpse of a destination with no real insights.

"Chacun à son goût," as the French say. But I rise to the defense.

I've said similar things myself in the past, and with the exception of a couple of trans-Atlantic voyages on the Queen Elizabeth 2 (which doesn't really count as cruising), have mostly confined my cruise experiences to small ships that go to out-of-the-way places like Cape Horn at the tip of South America and the Svalbard archipelago, 600 miles south of the North Pole.

However, I've just returned from a week aboard Cunard's newest ship, Queen Victoria, and I want to report that I had a good time. This is not a small ship. It carries 2,014 passengers and around 1,000 in crew, but I never felt as though I was on the Lexington Avenue subway at rush hour. If I wanted to be around others, I could be, but it was also possible to be alone — and there were quiet places, such as the 6,000-volume library, which gets more use on this ship than the casino.

Yes, there was a lot of food — but no force feeding and numerous exercise opportunities. Just walking around the ship would burn some calories. Deck 3, which goes most of the way around, is one-third of a mile. In addition, there are two swimming pools, a nice-sized gym, with classes and lots of equipment and those shipboard favorites, shuffleboard and paddle tennis. If you haven't tried shuffleboard, you might think this could raise as much sweat as a polite game of croquet, but a couple of Type A personalities playing shuffleboard will get a workout.

During my trip, we did a Panama Canal transit from the Atlantic Ocean to the Pacific, which was interesting and something that you couldn't see unless on a ship. The transit was preceded and accompanied by lectures, which greatly helped with context and understanding of how the canal works.

And we had one day in Costa Rica — also interesting and sufficient to let me know that I would like to return. In the morning, I went on a jungle river trip and saw a lot of crocodiles and water birds and in the afternoon, visited a nature reserve where a gondola takes visitors from the forest floor to the forest canopy. Deep insights? No. But I learned that almost one-third of Costa Rica is a national refuge harboring examples of 6 percent of the animals and plants in the world. I also learned that the country is well off because of coffee and other agricultural products, has a high degree of literacy and has social programs in place for its four million citizens that include health care and retirement income.

Sounds good to me, and I didn't know this before.

But what I especially liked about the cruise was the soothing motion of the ship (yes, I know that you can hit rough patches, just as you can on airplanes, but mostly it was like being gently rocked, day and night), the sunrises and sunsets and the moonlit nights and — well, mostly just the sense that time pressures dropped away. After a while, I didn't know what day it was and I didn't care. We were going forward to some new port, and that was enough for me.

Terese

Cunard Coda

On the evening of Jan. 13, 2008, the three Cunard Queens assembled for the last time in front of the Statue of Liberty in New York harbor. The Queen Mary 2 got there first from her nearby berth in Brooklyn and waited for her sister ships to come down the Hudson River from midtown Manhattan. They arrived a half hour late. The 40-year-old Queen Elizabeth 2 requires tugboats to get her in and out of the pier and to guide her down the river. In former times, pilots were famous for their skills in handling the big ship in tight situations. Newer ships can be maneuvered with a joy stick and don't really need tugs. So the Queen Elizabeth 2 held up the show. By the time she and the Queen Victoria arrived, a cold, steady rain had started to fall and the fireworks were just a gasp against the low-lying clouds. The ships didn't linger. The Queen Mary 2 and the Queen Victoria headed out first. Then the doughty Queen Elizabeth 2 steamed once again into the open sea. According to Carol Marlow, Cunard’s president, this had been her 802nd visit to the Port of New York, with one more to go in October before she becomes a hotel in Dubai.

Queen Victoria Tour

Yesterday afternoon, I toured the Queen Victoria. The last time I saw her up close was in the Fincantieri shipyard outside Venice, where she was built. She was then around seven weeks short of completion — there in the bones but without her finishes. I was amazed at how beautifully she came together. The public rooms are gracious, warm and elegant. Teresa Anderson, the designer, said that she kept Cunard history in mind, with paintings, furnishings and Art Deco motifs that recall the 1920's and '30's, when trans-Atlantic ships were the last word in glamour. The QV has a 6,000-volume library, a theater with private boxes, a small museum, a Queens Room where afternoon tea is served, accompanied by a harpist and other musicians. Evening dress on the ship is usually formal or semi-formal. Queens Grill and Princess Grill passengers have their own dining room and lounge, "just like on airplanes," explained Philip Naylor, a Cunard official, "where there are first class and business class passengers." And the others. I will be sailing on the Queen Victoria later this month among the "others" and will let you know what that's like.

Terese

Cunard in New York

This morning at 5:45 a.m., I was alone on the Battery Park City esplanade, scanning the dark water of the Hudson River. The tide was gently flowing out. The lights on the Verrazano Narrows bridge sparkled in the distance. Had I come too late? Had the three Cunard queens — Elizabeth 2, Mary 2 and Victoria already made their way into port? But, no. There they were. Three great ships, small and glittering in the cold night air. The Queen Elizabeth 2 approached first, pausing in front of the Statue of Liberty and then pulling near, her sleek lines and strong engines propelling her like a youngster and not like a geriatric relic. At 40 years old, she is still the fastest passenger liner on the sea, built for trans-Atlantic runs, with a top speed of 32 knots an hour. I waved to her, a lone figure in a red coat under a street lamp. Mary, behind her steamed toward the Statue and then turned to her berth in Red Hook, Brooklyn. Helicopters circled overhead and fireboats came down the river, spewing tall plumes of water into the air as Queen Victoria came abreast of the Statue. Then slowly, she made her way up the river. I waved some more, and she sounded her horn. Did someone see me or was she saluting the fireboats and New York City? I walked along the esplanade as far as I could, keeping pace with her, and then saw a few other people who had come out to greet the Queens. I met a man and a woman (not together) who had come over from England just for this moment, and a young man who had driven in from New Jersey. Passionately, we watched Victoria head for her midtown berth as the dawn broke and we could see her no more.

Snowed In

This past weekend I had the good fortune to be snowed in at the Quintessence hotel in Mont-Tremblant, Canada. With a blizzard raging outside that prevented my flying back to New York City, I climbed into a hot tub on the edge of frozen Lake Tremblant and watched the snow pile up around me. Then I went back to my room, sat on a plump, beige couch in front of a wood-burning fireplace, propped my feet on a large, leather hassock — and did nothing. Every once in a while, I opened the door to my balcony to see what was happening outside. It was shimmering white and quiet except for the gusts of wind. Perfectly lovely. I lit candles and took a bath in the deep, whirlpool tub, which was placed so that I could see the fireplace. Then I went across the road to the Mont-Tremblant pedestrian village for a steak dinner complemented by a fine glass of shiraz wine, returning through almost knee-high snow to a cozy bed. The next morning was bright and crisp and cold, with two sunny eggs Benedict for breakfast.

The plane could depart.

The list of winter activities at Mont-Tremblant is long: skiing, snowboarding, dogsledding, snowmobiling, tubing, zip-lining, ice climbing, and so on, but I would put lazing in a hot tub watching the snow fall at the top, followed by doing nothing. For people like myself who usually try to do too much, that's the ultimate luxury. With or without a snowstorm as an excuse, I recommend it.

Terese

The Water Show

The American Museum of Natural History in New York City is a vast repository of information about the universe, our planet and human culture. Museum scientists and exhibition curators help connect the dots — sometimes leaving visitors amazed and inspired, but in the case of the current show about water, probably leaving them saying "uh-oh."

While most Americans can just turn on a tap and receive an abundance of clean water, many people on Earth don't even have enough to drink much less enough for cleanliness. It turns out that while our planet is around 71 percent water, only 3 percent of that is accessible fresh water.

Several years ago, on a visit to Kenya, I saw the hardships this can create. In one village I visited, women had to trudge over three miles each way to get water for their families. Several valiant women raised money to build a large, clay cistern in the village with a water pipe that connected to the water source. This had an enormous impact on the life and health of the village's families.

At the Museum of Natural History's water exhibit, you can try lifting a full water jug to see what that's like — and considering the scarcity of fresh water in the world, think about that the next time you water your lawn, if you have one — and if you don't have a lawn, think about the water supply the next time you take a bath (using around 50 gallons) or brush your teeth (one gallon, if you leave the water running).

The exhibit teaches and preaches — and also entertains with a six-foot globe displaying satellite images of Earth, a waterfall projected on a curtain of fog, live fishes and frogs and dioramas.

The water exhibit runs through May 6, 2008 and requires a timed ticket for admission, which can be purchased at the museum or online (with a $4 service charge). For more information, go to www.amnh.org.

Terese