It was how she cradled him like a child on a mom's chest that made me hate them.

It was a lovely little moment for them, I'm sure, but to me, it was a grown man resting his head on her shoulder and her stroking his hair like you would calm a child. Yet they were clearly lovers; he was a man.

In the middle of the fjords and the dramatic cliffs, which I chose over any of my fellow human passengers 99 percent of the time, when the wind and the pelting rain caught up with me every hour or so and I ducked into the cabin, I saw them.

They had lunch next to me. She cut her salad into just-right proportions and later wiped every last crumb or hint of a crumb from the table with a napki, which she then folded. Into a neat square.

She was so ... precise. And Meticulous. We were in one of the most unusual places on earth with yellow-crested penguins outside somewhere — one of the rarest penguins on earth – and she was occupied with doing things "just so" inside.

Don't you ever just wing it, woman?!?!?

Yes, yes. I was inside, and noticing her! I want to slap myself. But that's the thing - the reminder as well. Outside, I could lose myself among the cliffs and the moss and the mist out to the Tasman Sea, next stop Antarctica, and when I came inside? It was everyday life and annoyances, nature broken up by manmade "stuff" and things that don't matter. It was funny to me how easy it was to notice what others were doing.

I went back outside. :-)