Protect yourself from sickness on a cruise

It has been a rough couple of months for the cruise industry.

In January, the Costa Concordia capsized off the coast of Tuscany, Italy, leaving 17 dead and 16 missing. Early this month, two Princess Cruises ships cut short their journeys and returned to Fort Lauderdale's Port Everglades because outbreaks of the flulike norovirus.

While the Costa Concordia is seen as a rare accident, the outbreaks of sickness on cruise ships give pause to many potential passengers.

"It's definitely something that is on my mind," says Oak Brook's Sarah Jardine, who is preparing to take a Disney Cruise Line to the Bahamas in March. "What's scary about it is that you're captive. You can't get away like you could leave a resort."

Passengers can take steps to protect their health while cruising. Just ask Erica Silverstein, who said that when she tells people that she writes about cruises for smartertravel.com, they often ask her how frequently she falls ill. Her answer is never.

To avoid catching the norovirus, which has symptoms that include nausea, vomiting, diarrhea and cramping, Silverstein advises passengers to regularly wash their hands with soap and hot water, particularly before and after meals, after using the restroom, even after touching their faces.

Ships are stocked with anti-bacterial lotion dispensers, which guests should use, Silverstein said.

Silverstein also tells passengers to avoid person-to-person contact whenever possible. She adds that some people bring their own soap on board, along with cans of Lysol.

Princess Cruises spokeswoman Julie Benson said that "norovirus is the most common illness in circulation, second to the common cold."

"We have people getting on board from all over the world, all around the country. Some may be carrying the virus," Benson said.

When norovirus cases are reported on board, Princess Cruises staff members immediately activate extra cleaning protocols, she said.

Crews disinfect all frequently touched surfaces, including elevator buttons, handrails and gym equipment. They halt self-service at buffets. They remove salt and pepper shakers from tables.

"We make announcements to the passengers, and we give written advisories to each cabin," said Benson, adding that passengers are advised to use the bathrooms in their cabins rather than public facilities. "Lastly, we encourage passengers experiencing symptoms to please report to the medical center."

Reporting outbreaks is much of the reason that cruises can be stigmatized as floating norovirus centers. Because outbreaks on cruise ships must be officially reported to the federal Centers for Disease Control and Prevention — and in some cases the outbreaks force the ships to return to port — media coverage shines a bright light on cases like the recent Princess outbreaks.

Last year, there were 14 norovirus outbreaks on cruises departing from the United States, CDC spokesman Jay Dempsey said.

Outbreaks are defined as situations when 3 percent of passengers and crew on a vessel display symptoms of gastrointestinal illness. Three outbreaks have been reported this year.

The CDC conducts scheduled and surprise inspections of cruise ships. When outbreaks occur, specialists from the agency work in tandem with ship crews to mitigate the problem and, as with the case of the two recent Princess Cruises, possibly return to port.

Silverstein said the public's awareness of norovirus cases on cruises is increasing, thanks to media coverage and the prevalence of social media, where one sick passenger's horror story can scare many potential passengers away.

But she cautioned against overreacting to the problem. Getting sick is "pretty easy to avoid just by using general hygiene," Silverstein said.

You can't get away from other passengers determined to vacation regardless of their state of health.

"Whenever you board a cruise, they ask if you've been sick recently," says Mary Lynne Artese, of Burr Ridge, a veteran of dozens of cruises. "I always wonder if people really tell the truth on those things."

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Brussels has Michelin stars in its dining universe

Brussels is for foodies. There are fine restaurants for all tastes and budgets, and new ones keep opening. Discover a sampling of this city's discreet culinary pleasures.

Bon-Bon: Chef Christophe Hardiquest describes his restaurant, which boasts a Michelin star, as a "salon d'artisan cuisinier," or an artisan chef's workshop. The Contemporary French gourmet fare is surprising, and the menu is created from what produce is available and the chef's imagination. Savor such wonders as a bloody-mary sorbet, a scallop carpaccio or a luscious mound of line-caught sea bass covered in oysters. It's located on a leafy avenue, and the evening crowd is elegant. In fine weather, it's wise to reserve for lunch on the patio garden. bon-bon.be

Canterbury: This chic brasserie is one of the best places to sample Belgian specialties, including shrimp croquettes with crunchy deep-fried parsley, and waterzooi, a creamy chicken and vegetable stew. The portions are generous, and the service is politely efficient. The interior is all chrome, wood and leather, while the large, shaded terrace is besieged in summer.

Jaloa: This Michelin one-star restaurant is housed in a 17th-century building, but its decor is modern and the cuisine contemporary. Chef Gaetan Colin composes daily tasting menus of four, six or nine courses that may include delicacies such as king crab open ravioli with crunchy leeks and coriander in a shellfish broth or veal tartare prepared with herbs, flowers, sour cream and caviar. restaurantjaloa.com

La Truffe Noire: A shrine to the truffle. This is classic dining in a luxury setting, with a staff that aims to pamper. For those who can splurge, don't resist the whole Perigord truffle cooked in its juice and Port wine. Go overboard and order the creme brulee filled with apples and truffles and served with vanilla ice cream flavored with even more fungi. truffenoire.com

Midi Station: Located in a train station, this cavernous complex with a brash, postmodernist decor features several dining areas, a seafood bar and a cigar lounge. Sample the hearty dishes based on regional produce, such as Ardennes ham with mustard sauce and seasonal vegetables. The beef, free range and grass fed, is provided by star local (Irish) butcher Jack O'Shea. midistation.eu

Odette en Ville: This stylish restaurant is located in a boutique hotel. The dining area consists of a long room in subdued grays and whites with mirrored walls and the kitchen at one end behind glass. The cuisine is French, featuring classics such as Tartare de Boeuf au Couteau and roast cod. Chez-odette.com

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Rio de Janeiro revelers twist and shout

RIO DE JANEIRO (AP) — English speakers got their moment in the Carnival sun on Monday as a wild, Beatles-themed street party let them shake it up, baby, with a samba swing to "Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da."

"Sargento Pimenta," Portuguese for "Sergeant Pepper," is one of more than 400 raucous street parties that spring up throughout Rio de Janeiro during Carnival season. Hundreds of thousands of people turn out for the largest of the "blocos," packed, sweaty open-air dance parties where the crowd sings along to a repetitive medley of Carnival songs — usually in Portuguese, of course.

As many as 850,000 tourists descend on Rio for the five-day-long Carnival free-for-all, and blocos offer plenty of nonverbal opportunities for fun: If drinking till you pass out doesn't suit your fancy, you might try racking up as many snogging partners as humanly possible during a single street party, a common Carnival game here.

But even with such tantalizing diversions, it must be acknowledged that singing along to the blasting music — usually played live by a band atop a sound truck, with a cordoned-off percussion section trailing behind — is at least half the fun.

Enter Sargento Pimenta, the brainchild of Gustavo Gitelman, a music lover and doctor by trade.

Gitelman quickly rounded up an enthusiastic group of Beatles aficionados — so many, in fact that the Fab Four became more of a Fab 70 at the party's debut last year. On Monday, a dozen or so singers dressed in T-shirts hung with gilded epaulettes like those on the "Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band" album cover belted out a medley from atop a sound-truck. The percussion band that accompanied them was swallowed up in the sea of humanity that turned out for the show, but their rhythms rocked the crowd.

The group gives the Beatles repertoire a Brazilian tweak, adapting "All My Loving" to the peppy beat of a traditional Carnival "marchinha," or march, and infusing "Hard Day's Night" with a Rio funk sound. "I Want to Hold Your Hand" morphed into a samba. Even the melancholic "Hey Jude" was spiked with an infectious upbeat energy.

But the biggest winner of the day was "Twist and Shout," which had the beer-guzzling crowd shimmying and shaking under the intense mid-afternoon sun.

Though the group has adapted a handful of the songs into Portuguese, most are sung in the original English, much to the delight of Anglophone visitors, many of whom can fully participate in the bloco experience for the first time.

"At the other blocos, you get kind of jealous because everyone is singing besides you, so you can feel a bit left out," said Amanda Weaver, a 33-year-old Canadian who has been living in Brazil for two months. "I really love to sing, and finally I get to."

Clint Lightsey of Austin, Texas, agreed.

"The dancing is always fun, but knowing the songs and being able to relate to them really takes it to another level," said the 29-year old oil industry worker.

The group's debut last year was so successful that the crowd was packed so tight it became something of a health hazard, and Monday's show moved to a more spacious location. But the event looked to have outgrown even its new digs in Flamengo Park, off of the iconic Guanabara Bay, and it appeared to have already become among the most popular blocos in Rio.

Sargento Pimenta is not the sole offbeat bloco offering. There's also the "Blocao," an animal-themed street party where pet owners in shorts and flip-flops parade their cats and dogs, dressed up as pirates, princesses and cave-pets; and Paraty, a coastal colonial city south of Rio, is home to the "Bloco da Lama," or "Mud Bloco," where revelers tramp through, dive into and otherwise cover themselves in sticky mud.

And for those who like to take a less participative role in Carnival celebrations, Rio's iconic Sambadrome samba school competition moves into its second and final day on Monday night.

Nearly 100,000 paying spectators turn out for the all-night spectacle, which includes troupes of samba dancers whose costumes consist largely of body glitter and oversized feathered wings, older women in pup tent-sized hoop skirts and giant floats covered in outlandish, oversized decoration. The parade starts shortly after sundown and doesn't finish till dawn, with the winner out of the 13 participating schools announced later in the week.

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Mardi Gras celebration rocks New Orleans

NEW ORLEANS (AP) — From the family-friendly avenues of the Garden District to raunchy displays in the French Quarter, New Orleans let loose with a Fat Tuesday party as parades rolled and revelers frolicked amid showers of beads, trinkets and music.

The French Quarter began to fill with costumed revelers soon after dawn. Some people hadn't stopped drinking since Monday's Lundi Gras prequel to Mardi Gras.

Wearing a bright orange wig, a purple mask and green shoes, New Orleans resident Charlotte Hamrick walked along Canal Street to meet friends.

"I'll be in the French Quarter all day," Hamrick said. "I don't even go to the parades. I love to take pictures of all the costumes and just be with my friends. It's so fun."

Brittany Davies of Denver was struggling through the early morning hours. Still feeling the effects of heavy drinking from the night before, her friends had her out again early Tuesday.

"They're torturing me," Davies joked. "But I'll be OK after a bloody mary."

The predominantly African-American Zulu krewe was the first major parade to hit the streets, shortly after 8 a.m. Most krewe members were in the traditional black-face makeup and the Afro wigs Zulu riders have sported for decades.

In the oak-lined Garden District, clarinetist Pete Fountain prepared to lead his Half-Fast Walking Club on its annual march down St. Charles Avenue.

Fountain, 82, gave a thumbs up to start off and his band launched into "When The Saints Come Marching In" as they rounded the corner onto St. Charles Avenue shortly after 7 a.m. It was the 52nd time that Fountain's group has paraded for Mardi Gras. This year, the group wore bright yellow suits and matching pork pie hats for its theme, "Follow the Yellow Brick Road."

In the Quarter, Joshua Westbrook of Dothan, Ala., had been on Bourbon Street drinking since Monday afternoon. His eyes were tired Tuesday morning but he was determined to see Mardi Gras through.

"I'm struggling, but I'm going to push through it," he said.

Wearing a purple wig, New Orleans resident Juli Shipley carried a gallon of booze down Bourbon Street and filled her friends' cups when they got low. "We're going to wander all day and people-watch," Shipley said. "That's the best part of Mardi Gras — the costumes. They're amazing."

Partygoers were dressed as Wizard of Oz characters Dorothy and the Wicked Witch, bags of popcorn, pirates, super heroes, clowns, jesters, princesses and lots of homemade costumes with the traditional Mardi Gras colors of purple, green and gold.

The raunchy revelry was expected to increase through the day.

After Zulu, the parade of Rex, king of Carnival, would make the trek down the avenue and to the city's business district, with hundreds of thousands of people pleading for beads and colorful aluminum coins, known as doubloons.

Along St. Charles, groups of people, many in costumes, ate breakfast as children played in the street. Small groups were already on the move. The Skeleton Krewe, 25 people dressed in black skeleton outfits, were on their way to the St. Louis Cathedral.

Tom White, 46, clad in a pink tutu, bicycled down the avenue with his wife, Allison, on their way to the French Quarter. "I'm the pink fairy this year," he said. "Costuming is the real fun of Mardi Gras. I'm not too creative but when you weigh 200 pounds and put on a tutu people still take your picture."

His wife was not in costume. "He's disgraced the family enough," she said.

The stakeout for prime spots along the Mardi Gras parade route started Monday, with legions of Carnival die-hards jockeying for the best places to vie for beads thrown from floats on Fat Tuesday.

Stephanie Chapman and her family had set up in their usual spot on the St. Charles streetcar tracks. They arrived at 4 a.m. Tuesday and would be staying for the duration.

"This is a beautiful day and we'll be here until it's over. It won't rain on my parade, but if it does I won't pay any attention," she said.

It was partly cloudy, but rain was not in the forecast. Temperatures were in the 70s.

Across the Gulf Coast, Mardi Gras was getting into full swing. In the Cajun country of southwest Louisiana, masked riders were preparing to go from town to town, making merry along the way in the Courir du Mardi Gras. And parades were scheduled elsewhere around Louisiana and on the Mississippi and Alabama coasts. The celebration arrived in Louisiana in 1682 when the explorer LaSalle and his party stopped at a place they called Bayou Mardi Gras south of New Orleans to celebrate. The site is now lost to history.

The end of Mardi Gras gives way to the beginning of Lent, the period of fasting and repentance before Easter Sunday.

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Sprinkled with history

TRAER, Iowa — It all began with a trip to the Brookfield Zoo. As she was getting ready to leave, Ruth Rasmussen eyed a salt and pepper shaker set, shaped like coffeepots, but with a bear and the zoo's name embossed on the front.

"I just picked it up for a souvenir," Rasmussen recalled of the first shakers she ever bought, back in 1946. Over the years, buying more and more shakers became a hobby — maybe even an obsession — for the Traer woman.

"In 1973, I had 10,000, and you can go on from there," she said. "I'd go to Goodwill; I'd go to auctions when I was younger."

As her collection eventually grew to 14,500 sets, Rasmussen had far too many to display in her rural home. They also filled two outbuildings behind the house.

Last April, she found a home for her collection in one of Iowa's most unusual attractions: the Traer Salt and Pepper Shaker Gallery.

It was a process to get all of Rasmussen's salt and pepper shakers in one place.

Rasmussen was always happy to show off her collection to friends — and friends of friends — in her home. For several years, a group of local ladies led by Ellen Young tried to convince Rasmussen that her astonishing collection belonged in a museum. In 2007 — at age 83 — the collector agreed. Last year they proudly opened the doors of the Traer Salt and Pepper Shaker Gallery.

"There're 318 pairs of dogs in this one case, from floor to ceiling," Young pointed out as she showed a visitor through the gallery.

The shakers are organized by subject. Next to the dogs is a case containing 213 pairs of cats. Nearby are displays featuring all 50 states, children, politicians, farm animals and even a wide selection of ceramic ears of corn.

There isn't room to display Rasmussen's entire collection, let alone another 4,000 pairs that have been donated by other people. The basement's full of those sets, some of which are being cleaned in preparation for display during the museum's 2012 season.

"We try very hard not to have duplicates," Young noted.

Rasmussen diligently kept track of her purchases.

"She gave every pair a number," Ellen Young explained. "She wrote the number down on these recipe cards with a brief description of the shakers and where she got them, when she got them, and how much she paid for them. We have six boxes of these cards of hers."

Young's team of volunteers has since computerized Rasmussen's records, including photographs of each set. The earliest date to the 1930s, and the most valuable pair is valued at about $1,000.

There are, however, about 20 sets of salt and pepper shakers with which Rasmussen refuses to part. Her absolute favorite pair depicts Princess Diana and Prince Charles.

"The museum gets them when I leave (this earth)," the 88-year-old said with a chuckle.

ctc-travel@tribune.com

If you go

The Traer Salt and Pepper Shaker Gallery, 411 Second St., is open from March 1 through Nov. 30. Traer is about 25 miles south of Waterloo, Iowa, and about 280 miles west of Chicago. 319-231-7654; traer.com. Admission is $3, $1 for children 5-12.

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Tiny museum tells of the Bonnie and Clyde ambush

GIBSLAND, La. — To American lawmen of the early 1930s, Bonnie and Clyde were, in a word, infamous. Yet to the average person, wearied by the ravages of the Great Depression, they were folk heroes.

The pair stole from banks that hadn't already collapsed, endearing themselves to those in line at soup kitchens — people willing to overlook the pair's 13 killings, mostly of lawmen.

It was along a back road near here, about 45 miles east of Shreveport, that the lovers died on May 23, 1934, slumped against each other in the front seat of a stolen sedan.

Historical accounts about the pair conflict. But "if you want to see the truth, you'll see it here," said L.J. "Boots" Hinton, director of the Bonnie & Clyde Ambush Museum. Exhibits consist primarily of voluminous black-and-white photographs and newspaper clippings, with a few of the pair's belongings. Fascinating film footage of the couple together in death is played in a small theater in the museum. But the $7 admission is worth it if just to chat with Boots.

Though he was just 5 months old when Bonnie and Clyde died in a hail of bullets, his father, Ted, was among those who lay in wait. The deputy sheriff from Dallas had spent 17 months tracking the pair. The officer had known Clyde when they were messenger boys together at Western Union in Dallas. "Dad kind of took Clyde under his wing," Boots said, adding that Clyde later veered into the crime world.

Bonne and Clyde still capture the imagination. Two new books appeared in 2009, and this year another movie, "The Story of Bonnie and Clyde," is due out.

The museum is in what had been the cafe where Clyde bought sandwiches minutes before the ambush. A historical marker marks the spot of the attack at the crest of a hill along Louisiana Highway 154.

The Bonnie & Clyde Ambush Museum (318-843-1934, bonnieandclydemuseum.com is at 2419 Main St. in Gibsland, a couple of miles south of Interstate Highway 20.

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