Best of Scandinavia
Our Trip Reviews

If you've read any of our books ( www.foreverisntboring.com ), you already know one thing...

Travel days and us have a relationship that's somewhere between a traffic ticket and a reality TV show.

Today did not disappoint.

Our flight was supposed to leave at 3:00 p.m.

At 10:00 that morning, Delta decided our connecting flight to Amsterdam was now more of a "suggestion" than an actual schedule. The delay meant we'd miss our international flight.

We scrambled, changed to a later Amsterdam flight, and thought we had finally beaten Delta.

Thirty minutes later...

Delta delayed the ORIGINAL flight even more.

Now we couldn't make the second Amsterdam flight either.

At this point I wasn't sure if Delta was running an airline or just entertaining themselves by moving little airplanes around a computer screen.

Their brilliant solution?

Fly us to Minneapolis.

Sit there for six hours.

Arrive in Amsterdam much later in the day.

Oh... and lose our status seating while you're at it.

Thanks.

So we waved goodbye to Delta, opened the wallet that was already screaming in pain, and bought American Airlines tickets instead.

Nothing says vacation like buying the same trip twice.

Who says travel isn't exciting?

The good news...

We're in Amsterdam.

The bad news...

Our hotel room wasn't ready, so we're hanging around the lobby like two zombies with luggage.

After flying overnight, Judy and I look like somebody rolled us in flour, shoved us in a convection oven, and yelled, "We'll check on them later"

We're officially baked.

Of course, it didn't help that we were seated next to the toilets. I'm convinced every passenger on the plane had a bladder the size of a thimble. Every two and a half minutes... FLUSH! So... no sleeping.

A few couples arrive today.

One couple is already wandering around Belgium.

The rest of our group arrives tomorrow, and by Wednesday everyone should be together and settled aboard the Celebrity Eclipse.

Assuming the airlines don't decide someone belongs in Iceland instead.

The weather is beautiful... low 80s...

Which means Judy is carrying a sweater.

Some traditions are simply too powerful to fight.

More adventures tomorrow.

This morning we're relaxing...

Late this afternoon we're taking an Amsterdam food tour. Yes, we know more food.

Have fun.

Get lots of sex.

And live your best life.

If the Red Light District starts telling reporters about us...

...we'll deny everything.

Besides... after today, nobody would believe our travel stories anyway.

After surviving air travel, airline delays, and whatever science experiment passes for sleeping on an airplane, we finally made it to our hotel.

We had less than two hours of sleep.

Naturally...

We thought a food tour sounded like an excellent decision as we don't want to waste our time in Europe sleeping.

This tour was supposed to begin at a little Chinese restaurant.

Instead, we all ended up standing in front of McDonald's.

Nothing says "authentic Amsterdam cuisine" quite like meeting under the Golden Arches. Mickey Ds is everywhere.

Our first walk took us through the floating flower market before arriving at a cheese shop.

Now, if you're going to advertise a food tour, don't hand me a piece of cheese so small I need tweezers to pick it up. They gave us toothpicks.

My first thought was...

Am I tasting Dutch cheese... or fresh-cut pine?

Fortunately, our next stop redeemed everything.

A little fish stand serving herring and kibbeling.

The herring is practically a national treasure here. Judy even enjoyed it.

Me?

The kibbeling absolutely stole the show.

Think fried cod that's somehow crispier, lighter, and so good it makes fish and chips wonder where it went wrong. It's basically fish and chips... after somebody stole the chips.

Our next stop was a traditional Brown Café for Bitterballen and Dutch beer.

Both were excellent.

Both disappeared way too quickly.

I'm beginning to think the Dutch invented small portions just to make you appreciate the walking.

Then came the stroopwafel.

Imagine someone made a waffle... then ran a bulldozer on top of it.

It had caramel inside...

A little chocolate...

It was good.

But somebody needs to introduce these people to Waffle House. Americans don't flatten waffles. We build them like edible suspension bridges.

Next up...

Dutch fries.

Don't get too excited.

They're basically French fries that have been fried twice.

Apparently the Dutch looked at French fries and said, "We'll cook them again... and call them ours."

We were perfectly okay with that because we were still mourning the missing chips from the fried cod.

Then we discovered the Crookie.

Some mad pastry scientist looked at a cookie and a croissant and thought...

"You two should have a baby."

It's actually a French invention from Paris.

So at this point, the two better things we'd eaten were French.

But the Dutch don't seem to want to give the French any credit.

Our final food stop was Dutch apple pie with whipped cream.

The pie?

Outstanding.

The whipped cream?

Plentiful.

But as an American, I couldn't help thinking...

"This thing is screaming for a scoop of vanilla ice cream."

We finished with Tony's Chocolonely chocolate, a local company that's become famous for fighting child labor in the cocoa industry.

Great chocolate.

Maybe a better mission but they could have given us a half of a bar. Of course, it was the end of the tour.

Along the walk we stepped into a peaceful little hofje... a hidden courtyard surrounded by tiny homes that were originally built for elderly women, widows, and people of modest means. That's what the tour guide told us anyway.

It felt like stepping into another century.

There were two tiny churches, beautiful gardens, and the oldest wooden house in Amsterdam...

Painted black.

I have no idea why.

By the end of the afternoon, we couldn't decide if we'd been on a walking tour with snacks...

...or an eating contest that occasionally wandered past historical landmarks.

Either way...

It was a fantastic introduction to Amsterdam.

Now it's back to the hotel...

To catch up on the sleep we've apparently been avoiding.

Tomorrow...

Another adventure.

Until then...

Have fun.

Get more sex somehow.

And most importantly...

Have a fun life.

Try our books about us:

https://amzn.to/3POmHtq

This morning... after what felt like our first real night's sleep... we were actually functional again.

No breakfast with Jackie this time... so we had to survive on our own. It was terrifying.

Our morning started with a walking tour of Amsterdam's historic city walls...

Which is funny... because there aren't any.

Apparently the walls are so historic... they completely disappeared.

What we did get was a beautiful walk along Amsterdam's canals... and that's when we discovered this city has a boat for absolutely everything.

Dinner boats...

Lunch boats...

Party boats...

Boats where you smoke things that are probably still illegal where you live...

And yes... even boats with live sex shows.

Naturally... we're researching those for the good of our readers.

It's a tough job... but journalism demands sacrifice.

One of the coolest things we learned is that almost every building in Amsterdam looks like it's trying to fall into the canal.

Turns out... that's normal.

Most of these buildings actually lean forward on purpose.

At the top of many of them is a giant hook. That's because the staircases inside are so narrow and steep they'd make a mountain goat nervous. Instead of carrying furniture upstairs... they simply haul it through the windows.

It's basically Amazon Prime... 400 years ago.

The buildings are also packed so tightly together they're practically holding each other up like a bunch of drunk friends leaving a bar.

They're built on wooden pilings driven into the ground centuries ago. Every now and then one starts to rot... and if the building happens to be on a corner without another building to lean against...

Gravity wins.

We saw one that's currently empty because nobody is allowed inside. The city is still debating whether to save it or tear it down.

Apparently their official engineering plan is...

"Let's watch it for a while."

Hopefully nobody is standing underneath before they finally make up their minds.

Everywhere you look is another postcard.

Beautiful canals...

Historic buildings...

Flowers...

Bridges...

And bicycles.

Thousands...

And more thousands...

And thousands of bicyclist looking for their next challenge.

Around here the bikes don't slow down for tourists...

Tourists are apparently just moving targets.

Tomorrow we're taking a bike tour ourselves...

So we'll let you know exactly how many tourists we send to the hospital.

We finally figured out why there are more bikes than people in Amsterdam...

They don't throw old bikes away...

They throw them in the canals.

Flat tire...

Broken chain...

New model comes out...

Into the canal it goes.

We actually watched a crane fishing them out.

Every bucket seemed to have another bicycle in it.

At this point... I'm pretty sure bicycles are Amsterdam's native fish.

We stopped for lunch of bitterballen...

Think of them as little fried balls of happiness.

After lunch we headed back to the hotel for a quick nap before meeting everyone for dinner.

We started at the rooftop bar...

Where the prices were almost enough to buy a small car.

After one look at the menu we decided we'd rather buy dinner somewhere that only charged the price of half a car.

The food was good...

The service was...

Well...

Let's just say if you've ever had cruise dinner before... you'll feel right at home.

After dinner it was nearly 8:00 p.m...

And it was still broad daylight.

That's when we wandered over to Amsterdam's famous Red Light District.

Honestly... In this small area, there are twice as many tourists as locals in all of Amsterdam, and this was Monday.

And nearly as many souvenir shops as brothels.

You can literally walk past a church...

A waffle shop...

A rubber duck store...

And a brothel...

All on the same 100 feet.

Only in Amsterdam.

The ladies stand behind windows lit with bright red lights...

Looking surprisingly patient... and very "attractive"... with a cigarette hanging out of their mouths.

After watching tourists do the same awkward double-take all day...

We're honestly surprised anyone ever walks in.

One of our friends walked up to the door asked one of the ladies how much.

She smiled and replied...

"Seven euros."

For about three seconds...

He looked like he was seriously considering it.

Then common sense kicked in.

We're still convinced seven euros was just the admission fee to walk through the door.

The meter probably starts running after that.

One of the funniest discoveries of the night was an entire store devoted to nothing but condoms.

I've never seen so many brands...

So many colors...

Or so many sizes.

Some of those condoms looked less like protection...

And more like rain gear.

Pictures below.

By then we'd walked enough miles to qualify for a fitness app badge...

So we headed back to the hotel.

Tomorrow is our Amsterdam bike tour...

Otherwise known as...

"Tourists Are Targets Bike Tour."

Wish us luck.

Until tomorrow...

Have fun...

Have 7 euro sex...

And do exciting things.

Want to know how we got here?

Try our books about us:

No real breakfast... just enough fruit to convince my body to actually move.

Today was bike tour day.

Now we've done bike tours before. They aren't the Tour de France. You pedal for a few minutes, stop, hear a story, look at something old, ride a little farther, repeat. It's sightseeing with exercise sprinkled on top so you can pretend dessert doesn't count.

The meeting point was only a short walk from our hotel. That's good because after watching Amsterdam traffic for two days, I'd already come to one conclusion...

The bicycles are in charge.

Not the cars or the buses.

Certainly not the tourists.

In Amsterdam, bikes don't slow down. They don't hesitate. They don't negotiate. They move with the confidence of a toddler who just found out about a flush toilet.

And if a car hits a bicycle... even if the cyclist did something spectacularly stupid... chances are the car driver is still at fault.

In Amsterdam that makes perfect sense.

So Judy and I renamed the tour.

Tourists Are Targets.

Our mission was simple...

See how many not so innocent tourists we could accidentally mow down before lunch.

One of our stops took us over the Amstel River. Add "dam" to the end of that and you get Amsterdam.

Who knew an entire city was named like someone filling out a government form?

It's also a relatively young European city...

Only about 750 years old.

In Europe that's practically a teenager.

The buildings are fascinating. Every one of them looks like it's leaning just enough to make you nervous. It's like the entire city had one too many beers and decided, "Nah... I'm good."

We also learned why you don't see many old wooden buildings.

They kept burning down.

Apparently packing thousands of wooden houses shoulder-to-shoulder wasn't one of the cities stronger ideas.

My eight year old niece could have predicted that?

The tour went great...

Right up until the finish.

We stopped at a traffic light.

Everyone else managed this complicated maneuver without incident.

I did not.

I fell over.

Standing still.

Not racing.

Not avoiding traffic.

Not performing Olympic-level cycling.

Just...

Gravity.

I'm happy to report I suffered no serious injuries.

Unless you count my pride.

Even worse...

Not one tourist needed an ambulance.

Judy seemed a little disappointed.

Why do we keep doing these things?

Because sitting in a bus lets you see a city.

Riding through it lets you feel it.

You smell it.

You hear it.

You occasionally fall over in front of it.

For a couple of hours we got to pretend we were almost locals...

Right up until I reminded everyone I was definitely a tourist.

Lunch was at a place called The Bull, and it was so good we came back for dinner.

That's always the sign of a winner.

Tomorrow we leave Amsterdam and board the Celebrity Eclipse for our Scandinavian cruise.

A whole new adventure begins.

Until tomorrow...

Have fun.

Have more than hall sex.

Don't wait to live your best life.

Want to know how we got here?

Try our books about us:

Translation... time to play "How do we get everything back into the suitcases that exploded over the last two days?"

I'm convinced hotel rooms have tiny elves working the night shift. You unpack half a suitcases and somehow now need three.

We finished stuffing clothes into bags, zipping them shut with the butt lock and a prayer, then headed for the ship.

By a little after 11:00 we were on board.

First stop... Muster station & our cabin.

Second stop... food.

Let's be honest. On a cruise, the cabin is just where you store your clothes between meals.

Because we booked Concierge Class, we were invited to a special concierge lunch.

Special.

That's an interesting word.

It wasn't bad...

It just wasn't memorable either.

I've had more exciting food on an airplane.

And as for Concierge Class...

So far the biggest concierge benefit has been learning I probably didn't need Concierge Class.

Everything they've "helped" us with...

...we'd already done ourselves.

It's kind of like hiring a personal trainer who watches you lift weights and says, "Yep... keep doing that."

Lesson learned.

The good news...

Every one of our group made the cruise.

Well... eventually.

One couple was still standing at the Amsterdam airport at 10:00am this morning waiting for luggage.

Airlines trouble... they were supposed to be here yesterday.

The only business where losing your air flight is treated like a you really didn't want that flight did you?

"Where's my plane?"

"Oh... it's late."

"What about the next flight?"

"It's fine... it's just flying without you "

Around 4:30pm the Eclipse finally pulled away from Amsterdam.

I found out we weren't actually at the ocean yet.

We were still about 16 kilometers inland and had to wait our turn through a giant sea lock before entering the North Sea.

Think of it as the world's biggest bathtub drain...

...except instead of rubber duckies, it's ships worth a billion dollars.

Dinner came and went, and then something happened that completely confused my internal clock.

At 10:00 at night... it was still light outside.

Back home that's when raccoons are having dinner at my garbage cans.

Here?

People were still taking pictures with no flash.

We did catch the last bit of an incredibly long sunset before heading to the evening show.

The entertainment was...

Let's just say...

If Elton John ever sees this guy, he'll probably ask for his songs back...

...or a restraining order.

After surviving Sir Not-Appearing-in-This-Concert, we wandered up to the Sky Lounge for late-night jazz.

Now that...

...that was the right decision.

Another couple joined us, the music was relaxing, the conversation was fun, and before long we'd forgotten all about fake Elton and missing luggage.

Sometimes the best entertainment on a cruise isn't the production show.

It's the people sitting around your table with a drink in their hand and a story that somehow gets funnier every time they tell it.

Tomorrow...

A sea day.

Maybe a bedroom adventure.

Certainly more food than my doctor would recommend.

And hopefully no more celebrity impersonators.

Have fun.

Of course... have sex.

Don't wait on anyone.

Tomorrow is already on its way.

Sea Days are funny.

Some people schedule twelve activities before breakfast.

We schedule breakfast.

Maybe a second breakfast.

Then we see where the day takes us.

We woke up somewhere out on the Baltic Sea.

Outside it was a balmy 58 degrees...

if your idea of "balmy" comes from a penguin travel brochure.

The kids on this cruise, however, looked out the window and apparently thought, "Perfect swimming weather!"

They were in the pool.

I wasn't going to tell them it was cold, there light blue lips and skin should have told the parents.

Kids don't have thermostats. They're basically beavers that don't know how to build a dam.

The Baltic Sea has a reputation. Over the centuries it's swallowed ships, started legends, and generally made sailors question their career choices.

Fortunately, we were on Celebrity Eclipse.

When your ship has elevators, multiple restaurants, and enough desserts to bankrupt a bakery... the Baltic Sea is more of a scenic inconvenience.

Most of our dangerous exploration involved the buffet.

Cruise buffets are fascinating.

You walk in telling yourself...

"I'm just going to have some fruit."

Five minutes later you're carrying a burger , ribs, roast beef, pizza, and somehow a brownie.

A brownie.

I don't even remember making that decision.

The plate just happened.

Calories on a cruise are optional...at least that's what the cruise brochure claims.

Celebrity gives us Elite status, which means complimentary drinks every evening from five to seven.

The brochure makes it sound like you'll spend two glorious hours drinking like a twenty year old at spring break.

Reality?

About two drinks.

At our age, "Let's do shots!" doesn't sound exciting anymore.

It sounds like a morning headache.

Instead, we gathered with friends, laughed about the trip, solved several of the world's problems that nobody asked us to solve, and wandered into dinner with ten people.

Ten people at one table is always entertaining.

Someone's telling a story.

Someone can't hear the story.

Someone's laughing at a completely different story.

And somehow bread disappears faster than casino money.

After dinner we wandered into one of the lounges and accidentally found one of the best musical duos we've heard all year.

She could absolutely sing.

One of those voices that makes everyone stop talking...

...which on a cruise ship is practically a miracle.

Someone later told us the big production show wasn't very good.

So we made a great decision to skip it.

Sometimes the best entertainment isn't the one with the biggest stage.

It's the one you stumble into by accident.

Back in the cabin, Judy and I chased each other around the bed.

Not because we were feeling twenty-five again.

Mostly because one of us had the wrong side of the bed.

Fortunately, neither of us had the stamina for a marathon.

It was more of a light cardio event.

Tomorrow we arrive in Oslo, Norway.

We've never been there before, so will be on virgin ground for us.

New city.

New stories.

New opportunities for me to accidentally embarrass myself in another country.

Those are usually the best days.

Have fun.

Keep having sex.

And travel while you can...

We're certainly trying.

Want to know how we got here?

Try our books about us:

We rolled into Oslo at what can only be described as "dark-thirty." You know... that magical time of morning when even coffee is still asleep.

Our ship supposedly docked around 7 a.m.

Several people in our group actually got up at 5:30am to watch us pull into port.

I have no explanation for this behavior.

The ship was going to stop whether we watched it or not.

Our tour didn't start until 11am.

My contribution to the docking process was sleeping through it.

After breakfast we grabbed an Uber to our meeting point, marked by what looked like a giant bronze hand pointing at the ground.

Apparently this is where King Christian... Christian-Something-With-Too-Many-Consonants... decided to build Oslo.

Norway has names that look like someone dropped a Scrabble bag down a flight of stairs.

Our guide explained it all.

Five minutes later I remembered absolutely none of it.

We wandered past the fortress, admired the harbor, and headed toward the Royal Palace street.

Now technically...

Yes.

We saw the palace.

It was way over there.

You know how people say, "You can't miss it?"

Challenge accepted.

We admired it from a distance that made it look like Zillow had accidentally zoomed out.

Instead, we wandered along the waterfront where Oslo apparently has a beach.

Except...

It wasn't really a beach.

It was grass.

Where I'm from, a beach contains two things...

Sand...

...and people making questionable sunscreen decisions, although this one supposedly had bikinis.

This beach also had water so cold it could freeze your thoughts.

Yesterday I'd joked about kids being part beaver.

Today I got proof.

There were little blue-lipped kids running into that water like it was bath temperature.

Blue lips.

Smiling.

Laughing.

I'm pretty sure Viking DNA comes with antifreeze.

Oslo itself was beautiful.

Clean.

Friendly.

Easy to walk.

Our guide knew her history and did a perfectly good job.

She just wasn't one of those guides who makes you laugh so hard you forget you're learning.

She was more History Channel than Robin Williams.

Although...

I did notice her headlights were on the entire tour.

Being the gentleman I am, I didn't say a word.

Judy leaned over and whispered, "Did you notice?"

I simply smiled.

I figured the guide was just happy to see me.

By the end of the tour we'd walked miles.

Funny how every street is downhill until it's time to go back.

Then suddenly Oslo becomes Mount Everest.

We decided the ship had perfectly good elevators, air conditioning, and free ice cream waiting for us. It was Uber for us.

That seemed like the smarter choice.

Dinner came faster than expected.

There were six of us at the table.

Good food.

Good service.

Good conversation.

Exactly what cruising should be.

Afterward we headed back to the lounge to hear the musical duo we'd enjoyed the night before.

The song selection wasn't quite as strong, but they were still entertaining.

Then came the surprise of the evening.

The ship's cruise director was doing an adults-only comedy show.

Now I'll be honest...

Cruise directors doing stand-up can be a little like dentists doing magic.

Sometimes they're talented...

Sometimes you're just hoping nobody gets hurt.

Turns out...

This guy was actually funny.

A lot of his act involved improvisation, which meant sooner or later someone in the audience was going to become part of the show.

Guess who was sitting in the front row?

Yep.

Apparently I have one of those faces comedians can't resist.

He hauled me up on stage, gave me a ridiculous voice to use, then started firing questions at me.

Without thinking, I fired answers right back.

The audience laughed.

The comedian laughed.

People actually applauded.

For one glorious moment...

I wasn't the victim of the joke.

I was part of it.

That's a rare feeling.

Usually when I end up on stage, security gets involved.

By the time we made it back to the cabin, Oslo had officially worn us out.

Between all the walking, climbing hills, and surviving Norwegian beach weather without frostbite...

We were done.

Tomorrow...

Another port.

Another adventure.

Probably another king whose name I'll never remember.

So have fun.

Have good sex.

And live a fun life.

Want to know how we got here?

Try our books about us:

Last night we pulled out of Oslo around 6:00 p.m. This morning we rolled into Copenhagen around 11:00 a.m.

Here's what I don't understand...

On the way into the city, we passed a ferry that runs between Oslo and Copenhagen every single day.

Every. Single. Day. And returns.

So let me get this straight...

Our cruise ship leaves first... sails all night... and somehow the ferry still manages to make the trip regularly, twice in the same time.

I don't know what they're feeding that ferry captain, but I'm guessing it's Red Bull mixed with Viking DNA.

At 2:00pm we met up with our group of twelve for something called the Politically Incorrect Tour.

Now that's a title that should get your attention.

Our guide spent the next two hours lovingly insulting just about everyone within driving distance.

The Danish king? Apparently quite the wild child in his younger days.

The queen? She rides her bike around town with her kids in a basket like she's delivering Amazon packages.

Then we learned Denmark's national pastime used to be accidentally burning the city down.

Candles.

Lots and lots of candles.

Turns out if your entire city is made of wood and everyone thinks fire indoors is decorative... eventually somebody yells, "Oops."

Then came the history lessons about all the fighting between the Danes, Swedes, Dutch... honestly, after a while I couldn't keep score. But it was lots of dead people.

Apparently Scandinavians spent centuries waking up every morning thinking...

"You know what today needs?"

"Another war."

It makes family politics at Thanksgiving seem surprisingly normal.

The guide was funny. Some jokes were genuinely hilarious. Others got the kind of laugh that says...

"I paid for this tour... I'll help him out."

Either way, it made two hours disappear, and we learned a lot of random facts about Copenhagen, although I don't see us appearing on Jeopardy any time soon.

After the tour we made the required pilgrimage to see The Little Mermaid.

Now here's where Disney and reality part company.

This mermaid?

She wasn't wearing seashells.

She wasn't wearing anything.

She had perfectly respectable little mermaid tatas proudly on display for the entire world to admire.

If Disney had used this version, Judy would've never let me buy our daughter a Little Mermaid lunchbox.

Can you imagine?

While we were standing there, a little kid asked his mom why the mermaid had no clothes.

Without missing a beat, the European woman smiled and said...

"Because the Americans didn't know what they were doing."

I almost applauded.

Then I got to thinking...

Disney took a public-domain fairy tale, turned it into a billion-dollar licensing machine, and sold Little Mermaid merchandise through just about every company on Earth.

Meanwhile, Hans Christian Andersen... the guy who actually wrote The Little Mermaid... never made a dime from Disney.

Talk about the worst royalty deal in history.

Yes, my mind wanders.

Back aboard the ship it was time for dinner.

Ten of us around one table again, swapping stories and laughing about the day.

That's become one of our favorite parts of this trip. By dinner, everybody has another adventure... another wrong turn... another picture they swear looked better on their phone.

Since we're overnighting in Copenhagen, one adventurous couple headed back into town for what they called an authentic Danish dinner.

Good for them.

We stayed on the ship where we've already paid for dinner. Cost efficient.

After dinner... well... the entertainment choices were a little thin.

Our favorite musical duo had the night off.

The main theater featured a violinist playing along with recorded tracks.

I'm sure she was incredibly talented.

I'm also sure I'd rather watch paint dry if the paint came with a buffet.

So we wandered up to the Sky Lounge for the Silent Disco.

Now that's one of cruising's strangest inventions.

You walk into a room full of people dancing...

...to absolutely nothing.

No music.

Just dozens of adults silently flailing around like Bluetooth had become a religion.

Take the headphones off and it looks less like a party and more like a support group for interpretive dancers.

We chatted with a friend for a while before finally calling it a night.

I know... not exactly a wild ending.

But after wandering around another European city all day, your feet begin negotiating with your brain.

Besides, every step burns off at least a quarter of one cruise dessert.

That was in the brochure.

Tomorrow the weather is supposed to turn, but we're not making any plans.

We'll wake up... look outside... and decide then.

Honestly...

That feels like what a vacation is supposed to be.

Until tomorrow...

Keep pushing for fun.

Find sex somewhere.

And make life your own.

Want more of this style of writing?

Try our books about us:

For one of the only time we can remember, we actually spent two days in the same city. Usually it's, "Look! A statue of someone famous"... toot toot... back on the ship. Cruise vacations are basically speed dating for countries.

The weather forecast looked like Mother Nature couldn't make up her mind. Rain... no rain... rain sideways... maybe sunshine for twelve seconds. So instead of wandering all over Copenhagen, we stayed close to the ship.

We walked back over to see The Little Mermaid again. Not because we desperately needed another look at a tiny bronze naked girl sitting on a rock. Once you've seen her... you've pretty much seen her. But we did need a Christmas ornament for our travel tree.

Actually... we need another Christmas tree.

Our current one filled up two years ago. At this rate we'll eventually have a Christmas forest. The neighbors will drive by wondering if we're opening our own version of Disney... except ours comes with stories your kids probably shouldn't hear.

Truth is, the walk wasn't really about the mermaid. It was about convincing ourselves we were burning off breakfast before lunch.

Which, of course lunch, was waiting for us back on the ship.

Cruising is the only vacation where walking to lunch counts as cardio.

A few of our friends joined us, and that's really what makes these trips special. Judy and I are visiting places we've never seen before, but sharing them with good lifestyle friends somehow makes every meal, every laugh, and every bad joke just a little better.

One thing I noticed around the dining room was all the different nationalities. Big tables full of Germans... Swedes... Danes... probably a few people speaking languages that sounded like someone sneezing into a tuba.

I couldn't understand a single word.

Didn't matter.

People are exactly the same everywhere.

Somebody's telling a story. Somebody's interrupting. Somebody's pretending to listen while looking for dessert. Somebody's laughing way too hard because they've already had three glasses of wine.

The language changes.

The hand gestures don't.

Before dinner, this time, we'd gathered in the Ensemble Lounge where the duo B-Sides was playing again.

They're easily our favorite entertainers on this cruise.

In fact... I'd pay money to hear them again.

Some of the main theater acts? Let's just say if B-Sides had played the theater, they'd have needed extra seats.

Tonight, what the main dinning was offering was not appealing to us, so we headed to the buffet.

Sometimes you don't need a five-course meal with artistic parsley.

Sometimes you just want food you can identify without Chat GPT.

The buffet was mostly American food, simple, familiar, and surprisingly good. But honestly, the company around the table was the best thing being served.

After dinner we wandered back to hear the rest of their The B Side's set. When they finished, a solo guitarist took over.

Nice voice.

Really talented.

But following B-Sides was kind of like being the comedian who has to go on stage after Jerry Seinfeld. Good luck, buddy.

As the evening rolled on, couples slowly disappeared one by one until it was just us and another couple.

Someone smiled and said, "Would you like to see our room?"

Now let's be honest...

We've all got the same room.

Nobody was going for the decorating tips.

A little while later there was some enthusiastic bed bouncing.

Or maybe the ship hit a wave.

Hard to say.

The investigation remains ongoing.

Either way, everyone involved seemed perfectly happy with the results.

Sometime after midnight we finally called it a night, said our goodbyes, and fell asleep almost before our heads hit the pillow.

Soon we arrive in Visby, Sweden...we'll show you around through our eyes and slightly warped sense of humor.

Until then...Sea Day tomorrow.

Have fun.

Have sex often.

Keep your life moving.

Because sitting on the couch has never accidentally taken anyone to Sweden.

Want to read books like this story?

Sea days are fascinating. It's like someone hit the pause button on the entire ship.

Yesterday everyone was charging around ports pretending they were explorers. Today? They're sitting at tables doing 1,000-piece puzzles of lighthouses. People are playing cards like the World Go Fish Tour just docked. Others are reading books the size of cinder blocks. Somewhere there's always a lady knitting something that probably started back in America.

The ship has activities... technically.

Most of them have one thing in common—they involve giving Celebrity more money.

Bingo? That'll be twenty bucks.

Liquor tasting? Open your wallet.

Art auction? Come spend six thousand dollars on a painting worth twenty dollars, that you didn't know you needed until someone gave you free champagne.

There was also a singer around two o'clock. Apparently he was on American Idol years ago and now mostly performs opera.

There's a reason he didn't win.

There's also a reason we didn't go.

Because of our late-night adventures the night before, we slept in like teenagers on summer vacation. We didn't escape the cabin until nearly 10:00.

We grabbed a small breakfast... not because we were hungry, but because our cabin attendant deserved at least five uninterrupted minutes to clean the room without us wandering around asking, "Are you almost done?"

He wasn't, so we hid in the library.

Apparently so did everyone else on the ship.

Finding an empty chair was harder than finding a lounge chair by the pool.

Eventually we left because the gentleman beside us had a cough that sounded like he was trying to launch a diesel engine.

Cruise ships always wonder why people get sick.

I'm beginning to have a theory.

Lunch with friends somehow became a two-hour conversation. Cruise time is weird. You sit down to eat, somebody tells one story, somebody else tells a better one, somebody laughs so hard they nearly snort iced tea, and suddenly you've lost half the afternoon.

Now you're probably thinking, "Go sit by the pool!"

Sure...

The Baltic Sea was a balmy 65 degrees... in July... with a wind that could sandblast a Buick.

Even the hot tubs felt less like relaxation and more like a polar plunge event.

There is the covered Solarium, at a toasty 73, but unless you reserved a chair before leaving Amsterdam six days ago, your chances of getting one were somewhere between winning the lottery and being struck by lightning while holding the winning ticket.

For roughly two thousand passengers...

In the Atrium, there are two hot tubs.

Two.

Someone in ship design apparently said, "That ought to cover it." Or more likely "This way they will have to spend money somewhere else on the ship."

Before long it was dinner.

Instead of freezing ourselves at the Martini Bar... where the frozen countertop somehow lowers the temperature of the entire area by ten degrees... we wandered over to the Ensemble Lounge where our favorite group, B-Side, was playing.

Excellent decision.

No parkas required.

Dinner with friends is honestly one of the best parts of cruising. Great conversation, lots of laughs... and tonight they served prime rib.

Let's be honest...

Prime rib covers a multitude of sins.

After dinner we headed straight to the adult comedy show that starts at 10:15.

Now, on Celebrity, 10:15 is basically midnight.

The improv with four cruise staff was hilarious, but what caught our attention wasn't them.

It was the four girls sitting in the very front row.

They couldn't have looked more than twelve years old.

Nobody asked for ID.

Nobody escorted them out.

So they got an education that definitely wasn't included in the school curriculum.

The improv group covered every topic imaginable involving dicks and vaginas in very outlandish ways.

I can only imagine the conversation back in their cabin tomorrow.

"Mom... what's a..."

Actually...

Never mind.

We have an early morning tomorrow.

Well... early for us.

Visby, Sweden is waiting, and unlike today, we'll actually have somewhere to go besides the buffet.

Until tomorrow...

Keep having fun.

Always have sex.

And keep your life full of adventures.

Want more stories like this?

This morning we escaped the ship and jumped on the shuttle into Visby... a town that's been hiding behind the same medieval walls for hundreds of years. Apparently the walls worked. Nobody has found a new parking place since the 1300s.

Visby is one of those places where every building looks like it has a PhD in history. Stone streets. Stone houses. Stone churches. Stone... everything. If somebody sneezes too hard they're probably violating a UNESCO regulation.

The ruins of two old churches are incredible. Nothing says, "We've been here awhile," quite like half a cathedral still standing after centuries of wars, storms, and tourists asking, "Where's the Starbucks?"

The town is charming... right up until you walk past your fifteenth souvenir shop selling Viking refrigerator magnets made somewhere that definitely isn't Sweden.

And holy cow... Sweden is expensive.

I picked something up, looked at the price, and immediately put it back down like it had burst into flames. I wasn't shopping anymore... I was just touching things I couldn't afford.

Amsterdam suddenly looked like Dollar General.

We wandered through the winding streets, watched a glass blower who somehow made molten glass look relaxing, visited a beautiful active church... Saint Somebody's... don't ask me which saint. There are a lot of saints and I didn't get everyone's name.

Then we reached the town square where markets have been held for centuries.

Years ago the farmers probably showed up with potatoes, fish, vegetables and chickens.

Today?

Designer jewelry.

Handmade glass.

Art.

Scarves.

Leather goods.

Things with prices that made me wonder if they included a plot of land in Visby.

The streets are so narrow that watching a garbage truck squeeze through town became today's sporting event. I'm convinced the driver folded the truck in half just to make one of the corners.

Visby is a UNESCO World Heritage Site, and I'm still trying to decide if that's a blessing or a curse.

On one hand, they saved this amazing medieval city from being bulldozed into another strip mall.

On the other hand... it doesn't really feel like normal people live here anymore.

There are plenty of beautiful homes, but parked beside many of them are Porsches, Jaguars and luxury SUVs. It feels less like an old Swedish town and more like wealthy people playing medieval Monopoly every summer.

Then again, after seeing these winters... if I owned one of these houses I'd probably need a second mortgage just to buy snow shovels.

Eventually Google Maps announced we had enjoyed a "mostly flat walk."

Google Maps...

I'd like a word.

Apparently Google measures elevation the same way cruise ships measure dessert calories.

We spent half the day climbing uphill.

By the time we made it back to the shuttle our legs felt like overcooked spaghetti.

Back on board, lunch somehow turned into an accidental nap.

Funny how that works.

You eat.

You tell yourself you're just going to close your eyes for five minutes.

Next thing you know you're waking up wondering if you've crossed another country.

Dinner rolled around and ten of us gathered around the table telling stories and laughing. One by one everyone disappeared for the evening until only a few of us remained in the lounge for one last drink.

An hour later...

Gone.

Apparently we all hit the age where staying up until midnight now qualifies as an extreme sport.

Back to the cabin we went where we read a little, worked a little, and eventually surrendered to sleep.

It's been a wonderful trip.

But...

It's still not a Bliss cruise.

Tomorrow... Stockholm is waiting just outside our balcony.

Have fun.

Have sex with someone who's hot... or at least someone who knows your first name.

And keep filling your life with memories.

They're a whole lot lighter to carry home than Viking souvenirs.

More funny stories are in our books.

Try our books about us:

We rolled into Stockholm early and decided today's adventure would be the Hop-On Hop-Off bus. Seated like sardines with a peel back top, we were on our way.

More on the bus later.

First, though, the Vasa Museum.

On the bus ride over we passed the very important ABBA Museum. It's Sweden's national treasure, apparently not to be missed. Sadly we missed it. Also sadly, no sign of Fernando. I looked.

The Vasa is one incredible ship. Built in the 1600s, it sailed about as far as some people's New Year's resolutions... then promptly sank.

Turns out when you stack two decks of cannons on a ship and skip asking AI about engineering, things can get a little... tippy.

The ship rested over 300 years in the cold Baltic Sea before being discovered in 1955 and finally raised six years later. The frigid water preserved it amazingly well. It's over a football field long, covered with intricate carvings, and still manages to make modern cruise ships look a little insecure.

The museum also honors the divers who recovered it. They could only work underwater about an hour at a time, which explains why raising an entire warship wasn't exactly a weekend project.

The museum was fantastic.

The 45-minute line... less fantastic.

At least the mobile ice cream vendor outside was probably having the best day of his career.

Now... back to the Hop-On Hop-Off bus.

Years ago these buses gave you headphones, you plugged them into the seat, picked your language, and life was simple.

Now everything is "high-tech."

Scan a QR code.

Connect to the Wi-Fi.

Open the website.

Listen through your phone.

Except... it didn't work.

Not on their Wi-Fi.

Not on our internet.

Not on anyone's phone around us.

The driver shrugged and said, "The internet isn't working very well."

Oh... well that clears everything up. Apparently our sightseeing tour had become a beta test. If you are going to stream use YouTube... They know how to stream.

Then the sky turned black.

For reasons known only to bus drivers and people who juggle chainsaws, they rolled back the sardine can roof.

Three minutes later...

Rain.

One passenger became the emergency roof technician and slammed it shut before Stockholm officially became an indoor water park.

Then the driver announced he was taking his 20-minute break.

He suggested we get off and catch the bus ahead.

Outside?

It's raining so heavy I swear I saw fish swimming past our windows.

None of us moved.

He took his break anyway.

Eventually he drove us back... almost.

Instead of dropping us where he picked us up, he stopped about a quarter mile from the ship.

"This is my stop."

Apparently the rest was a hydration exercise.

By the time we reached the ship we looked like we'd personally helped raise the Vasa.

To top it all off...

We were both charged twice for the tickets.

Fortunately, Judy handles customer service disputes the way Vikings handled invasions.

Let's just say I wasn't worried.

After drying out, we grabbed a light lunch with friends before dinner.

Most people had eaten late, so only four of us showed up, which actually still made for a really nice evening.

That night we played an adult game called Majority Rules, where the goal was matching everyone else's answers.

Let's just say words like dildo and porn showed up often enough to convince me we were definitely on the cruise with some pervy people.

There was plenty of laughter.

By bedtime we were exhausted.

Apparently chasing Vikings through the rain burns more calories than I expected.

Tomorrow is a sea day.

Hopefully with less rain...

...and maybe just a little bedroom cardio.

Have fun.

Have interesting sex... maybe involving feathers. Leave the chickens out of it. They've been through enough.

Keep life interesting. Couch surfing isn't nearly as adventurous as you think.

We have plenty more stories here:

Sea days on a cruise are basically Groundhog Day... with shrimp.

The mission is simple: find something to do that doesn't involve the cruise line reaching into your wallet like it's checking your blood pressure.

"Want to play bingo?"

Sure... if the jackpot doesn't cost a small fortune.

"Art auction?"

Nothing says "vacation" like accidentally buying a painting of a cow wearing sunglasses for three thousand dollars.

So naturally... we ate.

Cruise ships have somehow convinced thousands of adults that their full-time occupation is walking from one buffet to another. Breakfast. Snack. Lunch. Ice cream. Afternoon snack. Dinner. Midnight pizza. Somewhere a cardiologist is buying another beach house.

The best part, though, is sitting with friends. That's what we'll remember years from now. Not the mashed potatoes. Well... maybe the mashed potatoes. They were pretty good.

We did get invited to one of those Concierge cabin receptions. Free drinks, free snacks, and a prize drawing.

Now, when you've paid extra for a Concierge cabin, you're expecting something special.

Maybe a free cruise.

Maybe a cabin upgrade.

Maybe the captain lets you steer for five minutes.

Instead...

"Hooray! You won... a Celebrity baseball cap!"

Really?

I paid enough for this cabin to finance a used Honda, and my reward is a hat worth about ten bucks.

The grand prizes were dinners at the specialty restaurants.

Now don't get me wrong... they're good.

But let's not pretend Gordon Ramsay is back there screaming because somebody overcooked the asparagus.

It's the same ship... the same food deliveries... and the same ocean outside the window.

Nobody's saying, "I just turned down a million-dollar offer in New York because I belong on Deck 5 making crème brûlée."

After dinner, though, the entertainment absolutely made up for it.

First was a ventriloquist who had us laughing so hard I was beginning to worry I'd burn calories.

Then came the comedy magician.

Halfway through the show he looked into the audience...

...and pointed at me.

Apparently I have one of those faces that says, "This guy will embarrass himself for free."

So up on stage I went.

That's twice this cruise I've ended up on stage.

Usually they pick Judy.

I'm beginning to think she's secretly paying these entertainers.

Tomorrow is our last port... Aarhus.

Honestly, some of these Scandinavian city names sound less like places and more like planets Captain Kirk visits.

"Captain... we've entered orbit around Aarhus."

"Any signs of life?"

"Yes, sir... and surprisingly good pastries."

The good news is nobody in a red Star Trek shirt has died on any of our shore excursions yet.

That's always comforting.

Until tomorrow...

Have fun.

By now, you should be having sex regularly.

And remember... the couch is only an adventure if your neighbor is on it naked.

Bonus points if your partner is sitting there encouraging you.

Want to travel with us?

I'll admit it... before this cruise, if somebody had asked me where Aarhus was, I'd have guessed it was either a city on another planet... or in IKEA somewhere.

Turns out it's Denmark's second-largest city.

Who knew?

It's actually an interesting place because the city can't seem to make up its mind. Half the buildings look like they survived Viking invasions... the other half look like they were designed by someone who says, "Let's add more glass."

Then we discovered something that made me laugh.

They built... an old city.

Not preserved an old city.

Built one.

I'm serious.

It's called Den Gamle By, which is basically Denmark saying, "Our real old buildings aren't enough... let's build another old town just to confuse the tourist."

It's an outdoor museum where they've recreated different centuries so you can see how people lived.

Now don't get me wrong... they did a beautiful job.

But it's still like building a fake rainforest next to the Amazon and saying, "Nobody will notice the difference."

It's one of the most recommended attractions in Aarhus.

We went.

We looked.

We even took a horse-and-buggy ride through part of it.

The horse probably knew more Danish history than I ever will.

Now Aarhus Cathedral... that was the real deal.

Beautiful.

Historic.

Authentic.

No actor dressed like a blacksmith trying to convince me to buy handcrafted spoons.

The thing I actually liked most about Aarhus was that it wasn't trying to impress tourists.

People were simply living their lives.

Going to work.

Meeting friends.

Walking their dogs.

Meanwhile, we were wandering around looking confused like two people who accidentally joined the wrong field trip.

Of course, civilization eventually caught up with us.

Starbucks.

7-Eleven.

McDonald's.

Nothing says "I've traveled halfway around the world" quite like recognizing the Golden Arches.

Eventually we wandered back toward the ship.

One nice thing about cruising...

When you've walked enough to convince your watch you're an athlete, lunch is never very far away.

We grabbed a bite while overlooking the city, rested for a while, and somehow... after all that eating... made it to dinner.

Cruise logic is fascinating.

Walk three miles...

Reward yourself with lobster.

Seems fair.

Tonight's entertainment was worth staying awake for.

The magician was back... and somehow Judy ended up on stage helping with one of the tricks.

Now she's becoming a minor celebrity onboard.

People recognize her.

I'm just "the guy taking the video."

Luckily, I got several videos while she was up there, so you may get to enjoy that little adventure too.

Then came the ventriloquist.

His puppets absolutely steal the show.

His stand-up?

Pretty good.

His puppets?

Those little freeloaders have better timing than most comedians on television.

Tomorrow is another sea day before we arrive back in Amsterdam early Sunday morning.

We're staying a few extra days, so don't worry...

These travel reports aren't over yet, let's hope we aren't boring you.

As we always say...

Have fun.

Have surprise sex.

And live your best life.

Travel whenever you can.

The places you'll remember aren't always the famous ones.

Sometimes they're the cities you couldn't even pronounce before you got there.

Want to see where we wander off to next?