Day Eleven: In Which We Have Brunch at Palo and Learn That It Never Hurts To Knock.

Another slow day at sea, notable for our Palo brunch. 

The brunch at Palo is a major affair, with more food than you could easily imagine.  They have different stations for seafood and cold items, berries and cereals, pizzas, eggs, pastas, meat entrees, and desserts.

The only downside is that there is no way you could ever try everything, or even something from each station, without exploding in a "Mr. Creosote" moment.  We particularly enjoy the caviar and crab legs.  They are extremely cordial and always make a point of saying that you can stay as long as you wish.  We contemplate taking sleeping bags up, but figure they may not be speaking literally.

After a considerable time spent devouring some fine quality food, we retired to our cabin to recuperate.  In Hawaii, one guide told me they have a saying:  "Some people eat until they get full; we eat until we get tired."  This is pretty much where we're at by now.  There is a cooking demo we considered going to earlier, but can no longer face the sight of more food and take a nap, instead.

Finally, I drag myself out of food coma to attend an Animation With Ducky session, in which Don Williams shows everyone how to draw Mickey Mouse.  He also draws some random characters and raffles them off, and we don't win again but it's still fun.

Almost directly afterwards, they have a signing for him, where we can get our complementary lithographs signed.  The line is fairly lengthy, but it goes pretty fast as there's no personalization.  They also restricted it to pre-designated floors, so it was probably less of a mob scene than it might have been.

Our show tonight was Darren Romeo, who does magic and sings, sometimes simultaneously.  It was an entertaining show, however one couldn't help thinking it might have been better had he concentrated on just one or the other.

In the meantime, we receive our latest animal--apparently we have now graduated to animals of greater stature, as a gargantuan creature is waiting for us.  We are unsure what it is, and are excessively grateful when we run into our steward and he says "oh, did you like the dinosaur?" before we can thank him for the ostrich.

The bathrooms on board in the public areas are, as befits Disney, very clean and orderly.  They are the sort where each stall is basically a little room with it's own door, and Mom says she has a hard time telling if someone's in there or not.  I patiently explain to her that the door has a little white dot under the handle; when the door is locked, the dot turns red, so further examination is unnecessary.  She is suitably impressed.

The dinner menu tonight is "Master Chef:  A menu created by our world-famous chefs."  Which, I suppose, sounds better than "We Ran Out Of Themes Because The Cruise Is So Long."

Appetizers tonight include a seafood risotto (rice still a little harder than I would normally look for, in risotto,) and a tropical fruit cup.

My entree is a sirloin steak which looks pretty much like every other sirloin steak you've seen.  It was good, but I'm not sure you necessarily need a Master Chef for that.

Dessert was a chocolate terrine which was creamy and mousse-like, and a no-sugar added chocolate pots de creme, which was actually better tasting, as it was so much less sweet than the regular desserts. 

After dinner, I enter the restroom and see two doors with red dots, and one with a white one.  Confidently, I fling the white dot door open, to reveal a small girl using the facilities within.  After a great deal of horrified screaming from all parties involved, I manage to slam the door shut, which then locks decisively over with a red dot.  There is a mortified pause, broken by a plaintive voice:

"At least you managed to fix the door."

Tomorrow:  Aruba.