Day 5: Boarding. Like pirates.

I like midday checkouts. They're so much more civilised than the 10am "hit the streets, vermin scum" checkouts we get at home.

We had to board the ship sometime between 1 and 3pm, so we took our time. In the lift on the way out a couple got in with two King Charles Spaniels. It seems the Westin has several pet-friend rooms. Also civilised (Aussie hoteliers take note).

We asked what their names were, and the woman answered "Molly" and "G'niece".

"G'niece?" 

"Yes, like G'niece the bear."

"We're from Australia. Is this some Canadian children's character?"

"No, G'niece like the bear from Ireland."

"The bear from - wait, do you mean *Guinness* the *beer*?"

And she did. First complete total accent derailment I've had for a long time.

Before heading to the port we stopped in to Tim Horton's. On our first visit to Canada we loved Tim Horton's It was fast foodish, but good fast food, with baguettes, french onion soup, panini, and similar items, well-priced and decent quality.

These days, not so good. I don't know if the Tim Horton's we had in Quebec were simply better, of if quality has been downgraded since they were bought out by the people who own the Wendy's hamburger restaurants, but they've now been struck off our list.

When we got to the docks the processing happened at record speed. I thought we'd be on the ship in fifteen minutes.

 And then US Homeland Security got involved. 

It isn't entirely clear why customs in a Canadian port is being handled by the US Government. My best guess is that the US Government made access to Alaskan ports via Vancouver conditional on Homeland Security handling the processing. I guess it's not a job to be left to a terrorist enclave like Canada.

Travellers on US and Canadian passports were allowed to proceed straight through. Everybody else was shunted to a holding pen and allowed to enter the queue in dribs and drabs. I elected to stay with Emma, and we had to wait over an hour before we were allowed to queue up. 

During this time we were forbidden to use any device with the capacity to take photos. The room was essentially a featureless box with crappy black folding chairs. I suppose it's possible that al Qaeda operatives are desperately trying to find out the exact specifications of the walls and chairs for some deeply nefarious purpose, but I'm skeptical.

I shouldn't complain too much. It does provide a wonderful piece of political theatre that is much easier than implementing more effective security measures that aren't as visible to US voters, and it does give ex-criminals a source of semi-legitimate employment.

Once we were past that charade the day improved. Our cabin on the Dawn Princess is outstanding. It's roomy, heaps of storage and hanging space, and the balcony is big enough to throw a party on. The only minor quibble is the lack of a bathtub. Overall no real complaints.

For the sail-out we sat at the back of the ship with a bottle of Italian pinot gris. Worse ways to pass the time.

After dinner we went to our first live show, a combination of dance numbers, a quick meet-the-crew spiel, and a rather entertaining magician comedian. The show had a touch of typical cruise-ship cheesiness, but it was better than I usually expect.

Oh, and it was my birthday. Emma remembered while we were waiting in customs, turning suddenly and saying "I almost forgot. Happy Birthday."

"That's OK," I replied. "I had forgotten."

Who cares about birthdays when there are Adventures to be had?