2015 ADVENTURE – PART 2

This is how Elva described our last day in England:

I am constantly being stimulated, even on this travel day from London to Southampton.  We’re sitting at a Starbucks in Waterloo Station, people-watching while waiting for our train to Southampton Central where, this afternoon (January 8), we’ll board the MS Rotterdam VI.

We left Central Park Hotel this morning in the rain, wearing our raincoats and carrying small suitcases and backpacks.  We walked to the Underground, just a few blocks away.

With mon Jean-Paul, I find travelling so easy for I only have to follow his speed which I am very capable of doing.  His good advice helps me relax.  He will tell me: “We get off at the next station.”  “On the escalator, always stand on the right.”  “I’m just going to buy our tickets.”  Etc.  Consequently, I can enjoy the present moment.

In London, people are very kind.  We experienced it when we asked for information.  In the subway, a young guy, seeing me come in with two bags, naturally offered me his seat.

The railway station at Waterloo is quite interesting.  It has the atmosphere of an airport, except we have to pay to use the toilets.  There were lots of restaurants and small stores.

After we picked up our sandwiches and bananas from our favorite lunch restaurant, Prêt-à-Manger, we were ready to board the train.  We had to be sharp because our platform number came up on the big board only 3 minutes before our departure time.

After this lovely train ride, we took a taxi to the cruise dock and got settled quickly aboard ship.  Our room (2518) is on the same deck as last year which helps with our daily exercise: 102 steps to the eighth-floor Lido restaurant.

We’re looking forward to the next 88 days.  I feel so lucky!*

*Elva writes in her journal every day.  I only publish the parts where she  says nice things about me.

FYI, seven days’ worth of transportation, from Heathrow Airport to the cruise ship dock in Southampton, cost us the grand sum of $140.  It’s possible to do London on $300 a day, but not less.

The first order of business was unpacking.  Knowing we’d only have to do this once in 88 days made it quite a pleasant chore actually.  The second order of business was the official weigh-in, carried out with much pomp and ceremony on scales located in the fitness centre.  Full disclosure!

We soon discovered that we were well below the average passenger age.  “Jesus,” I thought.  “And I thought WE were old!”  At least half are over 70.  Many I’d describe as between nursing home age and palliative care!  One man had three hearing aids.  Swear to God!  Still they travel.  One old gentleman, who must be over 90, has his nurse with him.  Something to think about…

Our first full day was a rough one.  No sooner had we gotten into the English Channel than the wind picked up.  And not just a little breeze either: 45 knots and 4-metre seas!  Elva swallowed some Gravol.  I resisted at first.  But my sea legs abandoned me and I spent a very tough day.  By evening, I was feeling good enough to eat, but just barely.  There was even a tsunami in the pool!

The second day at sea was smoother as we made our way across the Bay of Biscay toward Cap Finisterre, the westernmost point of land in Spain.  There’s lots to do on-board, and the Rotterdam has a well-stocked library.  Elva is reading Through Black Spruce and I’ve finished Unbroken.  There are a couple of interesting lectures to take in every day and, of course, the fitness centre.  We dressed up for the formal dining evening at the fancy restaurant and studied up on Lisbon, deciding what we’d do on our day there.  There’s no such thing as a dull day aboard ship!

Captain Carsjens eased her into the Lisbon dock at 8:00 sharp.  As usual, we were among the first ones off.  I was damn glad to be on solid ground.  We walked first to Praça de Comércio, the central square, to get our bearings and check email.  Then we walked up the beautiful Rua Augusta and, from there, up to Castelo de Sao Jorge, the ancient castle fortification high above the city waterfront.  We made our way through narrow winding streets to the Church of Santa Engracia, a magnificent white structure converted into a National Pantheon commemorating several of Portugal’s national heroes.  We climbed inside the dome as high as we could to get another beautiful view of the city.

After lunch, we took the tram to Belém, about 10 kilometres downriver.  There, we walked past two UNESCO World Heritage Sites, the five-century-old Torre de Belém which stands guard over the Tagus River, and Mosteiro dos Jeronimos which houses a couple of museums.  (The first picture below is the monument to Portuguese navigators, with Henry the Navigator out front.  The second is the Torre de Belém.)

Rather than visit the museums, we opted for coffees, enjoying the 17-degree sunshine in front of a nearby Starbucks.  The tram took us back to Praça de Comércio and we sampled a local delicacy, custard tarts, called Pasteis de Belém.  Yum!!  After 10 kilometres of walking, we figured we deserved them.

What I’d thought was simple sea-sickness turned out to be some sort of stomach bug I must have picked up in London.  Out came the antibiotics!  On our last three trips abroad, we’ve taken Ducoral before leaving.  It’s supposed to protect against ‘Montezuma’s revenge’ but seems now like a waste of money.

We had dinner with Donna and Dave Crocker, both retired from their dental parctice in Tignish.  They’re on for the long cruise as well.  It’s a small world indeed.

During our day at sea, I read a book by Stephen Hawking, called The Grand Design.  Hawking claims to know - and that the laws of physics prove - that the Universe and everything in it was created from nothing!  It’ll take me a while to get my head around that one.

We arrived in Tangier, Morocco, and set foot on the Continent of Africa for the first time.  The port boasts two cruise ship docks.  We got the short end of the stick!  Elva and I walked the kilometre or so through the morning chaos of the fishing port, bombarded by sights, sounds and, especially, smells.  In our tourist garb, we felt about as inconspicuous as two skunks at a church picnic!  Passengers on the other ship in port that day experienced the more sanitized version.

After a coffee at the Café Mamounia (remember the Paul McCartney song), we trecked up the hill toward the highest point of land we could see from the ship, the Place du 9 avril 1947, dominated by a huge mosque.  It being our first taste of the Arab world, we were in for a bit of culture shock.  The streets are narrow and winding.  Most men over thirty wear long woolen robes, head coverings of various sorts, and open-heeled pointed shoes.  The women are similarly attired.  The younger generation are more liberal in the way they dress and carry themselves.

We found the fish market by following our noses and the herd of scrawny stray cats who march there every morning hoping to capture a morsel or two.  Some of the creatures on display were familiar to us while others looked like they’d come from another world!

From the market, we wandered through the medina and upward to the Kasbah (Arab for ‘castle’), hoping to tour the museum.  Unfortunately, it was closed.  The medina is the residential part of the old walled city.  It’s a maze of streets, many of them dead-ended, and is considered a ‘must-see’ in Tangier.  We’re glad we saw it but can’t say we were impressed.  We felt neither comfortable nor welcome.

We walked to a nearby park and watched as construction equipment worked on a new marina.  I spoke to a Spaniard who spends three months of the year in Tangier.  He told me that the present ruler of Morocco is young and progressive and wants to turn Tangier into an important industrial city.  Before returning to the ship, I took one last look toward Europe across the Strait of Gibraltar, amazed that two such different realities can be separated by as little as 14 kilometres.

The next morning found us docked in Malaga, Spain, on the Costa del Sol.  We walked through the ultra-modern cruise ship terminal, checked emails, took a shuttle bus to the centre of the city and set off on our walking tour.  We stopped first at the magnificent Cathedral of Malaga and then visited the Alcazaba, a citadel built by the Moors when they ruled Spain from the eighth to the fifteenth century.  It reminded us of the Alhambra in Granada, although on a much smaller scale.  The Moors may have been ruthless in battle but they had a well-developed sense of beauty as demonstrated by their architecture.

We wandered past the Roman-era theatre and to Merced Square along spotless streets paved with shiny marble.  On the square stands the building where Pablo Picasso was born.  Next we climbed to the Castle of Gibralfaro, a fortified position first built by the Phoenicians on the highest point of land overlooking the entrance to the harbour.  I know now why the Acadians didn’t build a castle to defend Miscouche.  There’s no friggin’ hill!

The view of the city from was spectacular, including a beautiful urban park, the Plaza de Toros, a 15,000-seat bull-fighting stadium, and the beaches that stretch along the Mediterranean coast.  After lunch, we wandered through the downtown and found the Plaza de la Constitucion and the nearby Marques de Larios, the main shopping district.  Although they are close geographically, Malaga and Tangier are like two different worlds.  Maybe we’re too set in our ways to fully appreciate Tangier.

Next, it was two days at sea as we made our way east to Malta’s capital city, Valletta.  We’d been there before in the fall of 2013 and focused this time on attractions we hadn’t yet seen, including St. John’s Cathedral, the Grandmaster’s Palace, and the National War Museum.

Malta is an interesting country.  There are megaliths here that date from as early as 5,000 B.C.  The country resisted attacks from the Ottoman Turks in 1565 when it was defended by the Knights of the Order of St. John, and during World War II when the Allies defended it against Germany and Italy.  It gained its independence from Great Britain in 1964 and is a member of the European Economic Union.  Only one-twentieth the size of Prince Edward Island, it has a population three times that of my home Province.