WINTERLESSES2
The Travelling Log of the WINTERLESSES – WC No2. Hence WINTERLESSES2
World Cruise 2018 - Sea Princess - June-September 106 Days
winterlesses2.blogspot.com
Welcome
to the Winterlesses travel Blog No2.
For Previous World Cruise - 2014, See "Thewinterlesses.blogspot.com" Blog
First
some rules:-
Anybody reading this, please
realise the following....
1) This is
written for fun, for our families & freinds, re our holiday. It is not a travel log,
2) My better half is
vetting every blog day before it's transmission is allowed.
(Please Note: I said allowed not sanctioned)
(Please Note: I said allowed not sanctioned)
3) Please understand I
have a very irreverent sense of humour.
4) I take very few
things seriously, as you will discover.
5) If there is
something I've written, you find offensive, I apologise it's was not my
intent.
6) The intent is to
put a smile on the readers face,
if you don't like it, for goodness sake, stop reading.
if you don't like it, for goodness sake, stop reading.
7) It has been posted
here so family and friends can read it,
and hopefully put a giggle or two in your day.
and hopefully put a giggle or two in your day.
8) Everything in the blog actually happen, I may have embellished a bit, (well, maybe little more than a bit).
9) And yes I know it's
painfully obvious, I'm not a great writer, or journalist.
but I’m having fun doing it.😜
but I’m having fun doing it.😜
Cruise Day -14
We are finalising last details of :-
While away lists.
Paying Bills
Pre Paying Bills
Arranging mowing of lawns
House being bug treated
Vacuuming & general cleaning (Well you know who's doing that - but it keeps her busy & happy)
Cleaning up around the outside (And you know who's doing that - but it keeps him busy & her happy)
Passing on to family our trip details; emergency contacts; what to do if we take a sudden and very reluctant side trip to a higher destination (Well I would hope for a higher one, would not be pleased if it was a lower destination); and all those other minor details.
And printing out all our excursion details.
I can tell you, after the last three months of planning, getting health checks done, chasing visa's, chasing exchange rates, organising foreign cash, getting new clothes, getting new walking shoes, breaking in said shoes, getting all our cruise paraphernalia together, getting fit for our adventure,
I am really looking forward to settling back in a deck chair on the Sun Deck with a glass of well aged juice of the grape.
B-Day (Boarding Day)
Well actually B-Day -1, we are frantically packing, and already it is obvious that Hils 1 large bag each was wildly optimistic. Current estimate is at least six bags is going to be the go.
Complicating this cruise is we need to pack for some cold weather as we travel through the arctic circle.
But I'm no innocent angle in the packing stakes, I'm being a little naughty, normally I only pack 14 days of everything, but just know the boat is going to be full of Elite level passengers like us, and the free washing is going to have long turn around times, so currently loading 21 days' worth of standard cruise clothes and 7 days of winter clothes for the artic bit. THAT's 28 days of clothes, gees I hope it fits in.
The day is wearing on and the frantic pace of packing has well passed on, the level now is hectic beyond belief.
Where this? where's that? is the major cry's going on around me, and I'm hoping I will survive the next few hours.
Oh my god, my packing usually lasts no more than 30 minutes, we have been going at it for hours and we're still not completed.
I'm folding and rolling, cramming, and squeezing, and I now have one suit case full. Just weighed it, 29kg, good grief, I never have more than 21kg, this is ridiculous. How can this be! And I still have heaps I need, repeat NEED to pack yet.
We have got down to the nitty gritties now, I have finished pack two more smaller bags.
For the sake of sanity, and my own wellbeing, I have been packing in the guest bedroom, while Hil uses our bedroom, just popped in to see how she is going. And ahm, in my own best interests, I will refrain from any comments, other than to say my earlier overly optimistic estimate of six bags has been seriously shattered.
We are now at least 7 most likely 8, umm what's that dear? Ohh umm ahh ok, make that 9 bloody bags…..
Ok, Ok dear no, their not all yours, (just most of them). 4.5 mdbw (my dearly beloved wife) 3.5 yours truly, and 1 general bits and pieces. And yes, That's Right, now 10 bags including carry on's.
We are officially now packed, we can now sit down, and enjoy a nice glass of wine, and a job well done.
Ahh what! still more to cram in!!! where!!! Yes dear stop grumbling or we'll never get finished!
Several little flurries of repacking later, not I have to admit, all mdbw, quite a bit of oh my god haven't I packed that from me as well.
But we are now off to bed, for a good night's sleep, well as good as you would expect with the excitement that we are off tomorrow, YAY
Now it is actually B-Day
We are up at 7am, to do all those last minute things, mdbw is vacuuming, and cleaning again, we could not have a thief break into a dirty house, now could we.
I am turning off supplementary fridges, radios, misc. equipment, cleaning this that and the other.
Feeding the worms one last time, putting out the rubbish, putting the lawnmower and whipper snipper away in the shed. And most of all trying very very hard to keep out of sight of you know who, or sure as hell, she will find something else for me to do.
Ah at last, Kev (my brother-in-law) has arrived to take us to the cruise terminal. I felt really sorry for him, his wonderful offer to take us, was innocently given, and semi-innocently accepted, but the pile of bags that welcomed him when he pulled up would have daunted a lesser man, but the gentleman in him limited it to a "wow that's… a few bags", but then he goes straight to work loading them into his sedan car.
I could not believe that he could get them all in, but he did and left room for us as well. So we are off to the terminal, we are arriving early as he has an appointment at 10:30, so we are at the terminal, check-in bags on their way to the ship, we are seated at 10am, awaiting the book-in counters to open at 11 to 11:30.
We have met up with several Cruise Critic members (CCs) so the time is flying by, and they have announced the counters are open, and we lead the charge, to be booked in.
Full credit to Princess, the book in process is very smooth, and then we are issued straight onto the ship, no departure cards, or health cards to fill out, so straight through customs, and onto the ship.
So here we sit in the Horizon having a wonderful lunch, with a bunch of NZers, and Sydney boarders, and bumped into some more CC's, so its already seem we are amongst friends.
We have adjourned to our Stateroom to unpack our bags, would you believe we have so many bags, we are finding it hard to move around, I have claimed 1 chest of 6 draws, and the upper half of the short half of the wardrobe. Hil has the other set of 6 draws, the long half of the wardrobe and the lower half of the short half.
An hour has passed and we have filled every available space, and we still have stuff to stow away.
There is only one thing to do, I will have to throw some of Hil's stuff out!
It's ok dear it's ok, I was just joking, ok just joking. Boy are some people touchy…..
All's well again, I think I'm partially forgiven for the ill-timed humour above. We have moved to the Crooners Bar, for a well-earned glass of wine. And all is well with the world.
And so, we can finally say "We Are On Our World Cruise" and for better or worse, the blog has officially started.
Fair weather to you all
From the Winterlesses2.
The Early Sea Days Brisbane to Komodo Island
The routine is slowly settling in.
Up at 5:50am get gym gear on, get spiffed up for public appearance, pardon dear? Yes, I combed my hair, no really did…. Yes dear, go comb it again.
Ok we’re off for the 1st breakfast, up to deck 12 aft, walk to pointy end then up to 14, into Horizon, fruit & tea for mdbw, and toast & orange juice for me, quick chat to other early risers, then back down to 12, walk from pointy end to aft end where the gym is, chat with the other early gym arrivals, doors open 7am sharp, minor stampede to get your preferred piece of equipment.
One hour later all hot and sweaty we head back to pointy end and the Horizon for the 2nd real breakfast, and more chats with those around us.
If we’re lucky, we will get down to the cabin for showers etc, by 9:30am.
Then all spiffed up in our glorious cruise passenger best, we wander down to the level 5 forward café, for coffee & hot chocolate, a bit of a chat, then Hil’s off to art classes, and I am sitting here with a strawberry daiquiri, to write about our seriously hectic sea life, but don’t feel to sad for us, we are holding up just fine, with the stress of all these trials we have to go through. (just teasing to make you a little envious). Oh and just so you know, they have removed the choccobanana from the drink list, so now my favourite is the “Strawberry Daiquiri”, a large hurricane glass filled with fresh strawberries, mango nectar, fresh lemon and lime juice and blended with crushed ice, vitamised into a yummy strawberry sorbet. I plan to have a lot of these.
Hil returns about 12pm, and we ascend to level 14 for the lunch buffet, and more chatting, about 2:30pm or so we mossy on down to level 7, for 3 or 4 circuits of the promenade deck, then into the Crooners bar for a glass of vino and more chats, book reading, of some other equally strenuous activity.
So far, the only exciting thing that has happened, is, that one of the passengers who had not experienced the ship vacuum toilet system previously, used to much paper and blocked their wc, and then kept pressing the button to clear it.
End result one overflowing wc into their cabin, all over the floor and out into the corridor, you can imagine they were not popular during the clean-up.
Well now for the weather report……….
Day 1 - Warm, clear, and pleasant.
Day 2 – Warmer, clear, and pleasant.
Day 3 – OHH Dam it, every day is a warm 28 to 30 deg clear, pleasant, and smooth seas.
Eat your little hearts out!!!
And that folks, is the hard future for us poor boat people, over the next 3.5 months, and in the interest of your harmony, I will not mention our tough sea life again. Unless of course, if something of reasonable interest happens that excites my creative writing juices.
Fair weather to you all
From the Winterlesses2.
Port 1 - Komodo Island – 14th June
We are parked off Komodo Island, seas are smooth and we are definitely going ashore.
Always a worry with these small islands that you will not be able to get in.
But today is not one of those days, today we will get to see the famous Komodo Dragons, MAYBE!
We are told that sometime they're not very cooperative and go hide somewhere, but we are very hopeful, after all we spent a lot of money to visit them and they could at least come out for a polite how-de-do could they not.
Our excursion group is Silver 2, and we're in the first wave of tender boats to go (Second boat actually), we are just waiting for those magic words "Silver 2 may go now" and we will be off.
No sooner said and they float over the speaker system and we're on our way to Komodo, yay.
The tender ride is a short ride to the tender docking pier, which is about 700 to 800 metres long, at the end we meet our Dragon guides, they are fully armed for our adventure with a thin stick about 1700mm long complete with a short-forked end. And with this formidable weapon they tell us they will protect us from the ferocious Dragons!!!
Some how it does not inspire a lot of confidence in our safety, this was not ultimately to be unfounded, but we will get to that!
They proceed to take us through the safety warnings, which include:-
Do not run they will chase you and eat you.
Do not stand in front of one it will chase you and eat you.
Women menstruating should not go they excellent sense of smell for blood and they will eat you.
Do not let things swing about you the will attack and eat you.
Obey your guide at all times or the will attack and eat you.
Do not stray off the track, they will attack and eat you.
Do not get too close they will attack and eat you.
The Komodo eats up to ¾ of their body weight at a time, and can they weigh about 350kg.
(umm, I'm 83kg! I don't even make a bloody meal, not a very comforting thought)
Most are around 2 metres long, some around 3 metres, and there is a couple around 3.5 metres.
Oh, and by the way, also be careful of the local snakes, their very venomous.
With all that new knowledge we are feeling a renewed sense of total confidence……….. NOT.
With a final "take nothing from our trip into the hills but photos", we are led off into the wilderness. It is surprising how quickly the undergrowth thickens up around us as we travel inland, we have "two" just "two" Stick armed guides with us, to protect all 15 of us!
Ahh do you get a little nervous for us? Well don't, we were providing all the nervousness we needed.
Actually there were several people, Hil and I were quite worried about being fit enough to do the 1.5 hour walk, but surprising enough all but one older guy completed the walk. It must have taxed them but they soldiered through it well.
The guy in black we got very concerned for, but fortunately the guides took him of early and took him back on a short cut, so all was good. Later we found he had a heart pace-maker, after a few short rests was able to make it back to the ship.
Getting back to our little walk, we trekked through the scrub, at a good steady rate, eyes peeled every which way, scanning for those crafty beasties wishing to eat us. We wound this way and that way, over logs, around logs, all of them looking very like giant lizards. (one incident we heard about later, was the one woman cut her leg quite badly stepping over one of those log, and had to be taken back, (now you do remember what was said about the dragon's incredible ability to sense blood don't you, you can bet it was a very nervous walk back. There was one wag who suggested that they could have hoisted her up into the trees to attract some dragons, no I'm not going to tell you who). We walked up treacherous hills and down into dim gully's for over and hour and you know how many dragons we saw, NOT a blinking one. The guide tells us quite often they see them but sometimes, they go somewhere else.
Ever get one of those feelings you are being had? Everyone on high alert, tension oozing in the air, and all for nothing?
Well I can tell you this was one of those days, but the trouble with those days is, just when you give up, that's when the beasties spring.
Well it didn't for us, well not until we went around the next bend and then we were in the middle of them.
Well two of them, sort of just laying there, well not two actually there was a third smaller one just nearby, about 1600mm long, the first two were about 2.7 metres long, and .. ahh actually there's five of them, two of the bloody logs just moved. At this point I'm about 3 metres from the biggest one about 3 metres+, Hil is a rubber band stretched almost to breaking point, but I'm cool, I have total confidence in the stick men. They look cool and relaxed, so all must be well right, RIGHT!
Just as I'm taking a shot, one of the big ones gets up and slowly walks to the side, I'm fumbling with my camera, trying to remember how the video function works when bedlam breaks out, you know those five dragons I spoke about? Ignore that reference, make it 8 dragons, and one has decided to chase one of the tourists, resulting in lots of women screaming, men yelling (actually they were screaming as well but we men prefer to call it yelling), and people running, guides yelling stand still, stand still remain calm, yeah right! I will remain calm while one off these things run around looking to eat someone.
Well actually just like that there is a sudden silence, the dragons have someone down and there all in an eating frenzy, ripping bits off.
Nar not really just teasing you.
In reality one of the guides runs in front of the big brut and jabs it two or three times with his little stick, and it drops down and glares at him, and all is calm and peaceful again, except for some of the guides calming some flustering old ladies. Exciting hay. And no Hil was not one of the flustering ladies. But her rubber band was still in serious trouble for a while.
Just when we had completely relaxed again that bloody big one gets up and goes for another little run, I'm sure the bastard is just having fun with us, and when I looked at his head I'm also sure he had a smirking smile there, and just to prove it, I took a photo of him and his smirk.
Now these thing as you know are big but let me tell you, they look a dam sight bigger when your standing near one of the bigger buggers. Their bodies are big but their jolly legs are nearly as big as their bodies. But their ability to go from flat out snoozing to a terrifying full out run is unbelievable. The guides have my full admiration for their calm demurer and courage to face them full on with their little sticks.
We are now back on board, and very happy with our tour, as it turned out to be a very exciting visit to the home of the Komodo Dragons.
And you know that earlier advice from the guide about take nothing away with you other than photos….. well I don't believe anyone took anything other than photos and an experience with them.
But, I can also assure you, there were a few people there that nearly left a couple of little brown piles behind.
In a couple of days we will be in Singapore.
Oh one last thing, some of you know we got involved with a group called "Cruise Critic" before we joined the cruise, what a great idea that was, we have already, made some nice friends with some of them, it has made for a very friendly start to our journey.
Fair weather to you all
From the Winterlesses2.
Port 2 - Singapore 17th June
After much confusion we are parking our home at the Marina Cruise Terminal, which is where I hoped we would dock.
Why? Because we are going to go see the "Gardens By The Bay", these are an architecturally designed gardens, best recognised for their huge mushroom shaped metal structures, standing about 20 to 30 metres high, onto which they have grown an assortment of various plants and flowers.
We have to choose between grabbing a taxi from the cruise terminal to the gardens, about a 10-minute drive, or to walk it, about 1 & a bit hours.
Reluctantly we chose the taxi, as we thought it would be good to support the local working people.
(You guys believe that don't you?).
On arrival we were trying to find the entrance and ticket office but could not see one for the life of us.
There was a good reason for that, as to tour the outside gardens, costs absolutely nothing!
But the catch is if you wish to tour the two Domes (The Flower Dome & The Cloud Dome), that costs you 28 Singapore dollars EACH for the two.
Bloody highway robbery that, but mumble & grumbling we pay up, because they say it is really worth it.
Yeah, and if I was selling the tickets I'd say that as well.
Well we are on our way in, and on entering the door into the Flower Dome, you get to see your first flowers, a hall of screens displaying beautiful coloured flowers, June is the month for Begonias, all types, all 2 metres tall, and all dazzling. I thought well its certainly a very get your attention entry. But what came next, leaves you with that wow feeling.
However, it is only a tease, and every step of the next 2 hours, the teasing only kept getting more & more amazing.
I have no idea how much money went into this place, but none of it was wasted. And the work put into it was mind boggling, as you could not take a step with out some new intricate display, grabbing your attention.
I kept getting lost as to which way to point my camera, what to photo and from what angle, it was exhausting.
This is a place you just can't really do justice with a verbal description, so I'm not going to try, I will try to select a couple of photos and up load them to the blog. But give me some time to do the sorting.
As we walked we kept thinking this cant keep getting better, BUT then we walked from the flower dome, into the cloud dome, not one person stepped more than two steps in before stopping short with an intake of breath and tried to take in the scene in front of them.
It's like stepping out from a cave and finding yourself at the foot of 70+ metre waterfall, and it feels like that, Because You Just Did. You can feel the water spray and mist all around you. And then your ears become aware of the drum of the water hitting the pool directly in front of you.
Initially you take a couple more steps, then you just stand there and take in the grandeur of looking up at a mountain covered in all sorts of plant life, with the waterfall cascading from the top, and free falling to the pool at the bottom.
Once you start to come to grips with what you're seeing, you slowly move into a whole new world.
Again, you're struck with the detail and planning, not to mention the creativeness, that has gone into producing this magnificent, garden/topography/artwork, everywhere you look there is detail within details within details.
In this garden you don't just walk around it, you embrace it, you discover it as you climb it, via paths initially, then finally by a lift. Then via aerial walkway you start to descend it.
This is when you start to appreciate its name "The Cloud Dome", there are little mist creating jets that form sort rain forest clouds, the air is moist, but cool and comforting, you can easily imagine being in a real rain forest canopy.
The whole experience is breath taking. We spent another two odd hours exploring this world, and did not see all of it, nor seen all its little secrets.
What a magnificent place, the Singaporeans can be justifiably proud, of what they have achieved.
We are exhausted, and hungry, so we head for a Chinese restaurant, near the exit.
We are long time seasoned visitors to Chinese food, WELL we thought we were. We again were to have our horizons expanded. There was not one single dish we recognised but thank god, there were plenty of photographs and english descriptions of each dish offered.
After some time exploring the offerings, we selected three dishes. Of the three only one bore any resemblance to anything we have had before, and it was a Chinese version of a salad.
With much trepidation we started to sample our fair, and it was not just discovering, the meals, it was an adventure just to get them off the plate to our mouths. But once we managed that little feat, there was a rich experience for our taste buds. Not one of the courses we chose disappointed. We had a wonderful meal, and I believe we can now truly say we have enjoyed a real Chinese meal and would only be happy to do it again.
Our eyes have feasted, our brains have feasted, and our tummies have feasted, and now we have to sadly leave, to re-join our floating home, to allow our tired bodies to regenerate for our next adventure in three sea days time, Colombo Sri Lanka.
Fair weather to you all
From the Winterlesses2.
Port 3 - Colombo – 21st June
Hi we have arrived at the not so magnificent port of Colombo in Sri Lanka. A bit like our grain terminal, a basic working port. Where the ship parks is about 5 or 6 hundred metres in a straight line, to the port gates.
But I have no idea why they do it this way, but some ports just love to make it as complicated as possible to get out.
If we could have walked that straight line, we could be at the gate within about 10 minutes. But we have to use their port shuttle, it does not cost anything but it takes about 20 minutes in a complicated roadway that twist back and forth all over the place, with some incredible sharp turns included, while dodging all sorts of heavy vehicles, whizzing back and forth.
We are on a private tour organized by a Cruise Critic member.
It is called "The Best Of Lanka Tour", well if you have been here before, you can picture the rambling run down city can't you?
Well we were pleasantly surprised, they have started to clean it up, with some new buildings going up, and some old ones refurbished, and noticeable cleaner streets. Well the main ones at least, some of the smaller ones could do with a little TLC.
However, there was one building that reminded me of a quote from one of my old lecturers at Swinburn Uni.
His quote was, "if you stuff up something, don't hide it, make a feature of it!"
If for in this instance if you are building a high-rise building, and it starts to fall over, brace it with another building, and keep going.
The tour was the usual city highlights, temples, presidential palace, international school, lotus tower, gardens and so on. Luckily not too humid so we survived, and a Sri Lankan authentic lunch buffet.
The tour in general was ok to not to bad, it was reasonably interesting, but what made it a great tour was the authentic Sri Lankan lunch buffet, the place they took us to was quite a surprise, it was on the fourth floor of a building, very airy and light, everything was immaculate in its cleanliness, and maintenance. The buffet would have to have been the longest and most extensive I have ever seen.
The food looked and smelt wonderful, and being a sensible & reasonable type of guy, I proceeded to have a taste of almost everything, most of which, if they did not have a label, I would not have known what they were.
For the most part names were irrelevant, as they all tasted yum. But I will give special mention to the curried beetroot, and the curried potatoes, these were really good staples to match with almost if not all the other dishes.
At one end of the buffet was a little cooking shack, where a woman was cooking and assortment of little delights with eggs; chicken; lamb; and little dough balls that were blended into delicious toasted slithers, similar to Gozleme, but with decidedly Sri Lankan twist. (I'm definitely going to have a go at these when we get home).
Everything we tried was so good we had to go through a second time, I was so full I could not have eaten another thing, at least not until some fool said have you tried their desserts? God, I hate him, I don't think I will need to eat for several days, but I can attest their idea of sweets is worth investigating.
We all had a great day and really enjoyed the buffet and returned home full and quite weary.
Would you believe when we arrived back on board, they had the audacity to tell us, that the dinning tonight is a taste of India.
Yep to my great shame, we went up to see how it compared. Unfortunately, pretty good, I think I may have blown the last 8 years of weight loss, definitely going to need several hours in the gym tomorrow.
I guess this is goodnight from Rollie-Pollie John & Hilary
Fair weather to you all
From the Winterlesses2.
Port 4 - Muscat 25 th June
Here we are at the Port of Muscat in the Sultanate of Oman.
It is ruled by a Sultan (Which is sort of like a King), a man called "Qaboos bin Said Al Said" and is absolute ruler of his nation.
Now absolute rulers can be a mixed bunch, most unfortunately are power hungry despots looking to fill their own pocket, and ego's.
This one it seems is interested in his people, when he came to power 40 years ago, we're told there was, in the whole of the country, only 10km of paved road, three schools, 1 hospital and only 3 doctors. Living standards was basic Bedouin tribal communities.
There is no comparison with what we can see today, as we travel some hundred odd km s into the local country side.
The road we're on is a four-lane motorway, and we are told that there is some thousands of kilometres of roadways in Oman today. There are thousands of schools, both junior and high, and there are hundreds of hospitals, staffed by thousands of medical staff. All schooling and medical is totally free to the Oman citizens, and if the education or medical facilities are insufficient for the people, then they are sent overseas, and all costs are paid by the government.
All in all, you would think it would be a great life here, but it is a pretty hard environment in any of the Arabic countries in this area. It is HOT, Very HOT, and a local garden consists of various sized coloured stones. We have not seen many areas that lend its self to cultivation, nor is there much in natural water supplies.
Most of their water is provided from desalination, which by its nature is slow and expensive.
But the sultan is pushing for his country to modernise, and develop alternative means of wealth development, before the oil reserves begin to deplete.
It amazes me how some people see what they have and others only see what they haven't. most people seem proud of what their country has achieved in only 40 years, others are unhappy and grumbling that the government is not doing enough.
As we travel through the country side, what we see is a very rugged country side, grey and white rock everywhere.
But strangely it is quite beautiful in its own way. The sea is a vibrant blue, and very clear.
The air on the other hand seems to be a constant haze. Possible due to the construction that is going on everywhere.
Roads, Buildings, infrastructure, etc. It seems to be happening everywhere we travel. oh, and possibly sand storms I suppose.
But like Dubai, there is green strips all along the roadways where plants have been planted and drip watering systems installed.
One of the surprising things is the number of oasis islands that popup as we travel by, each supporting large groups of date palms, and surprising enough recently planted pawpaw trees, and banana trees.
We were taken down into one, they are usually in little gully's, and although still hot, they are much cooler than the area around them. It is in among these we seen some of the most elaborate of the homes outside of the city of Muscat.
We noticed while we travelled, that plots of land and most houses had stone fences around them. Some very basic and some quite high and elaborately detailed.
I wondered if they were for protection or for dissuading undesirables!
Evidently not, they're there to state I own this place! and the higher and fancier, the stronger the statement of wealth. So, it seems, if you see a little wall of only 300 to 400 mm high it says I'm not rich but this is mine. We have seen a lot of those!
We visited the little fishing village of Qurayyat, it was very quaint. A lot of effort went into the decorative wall around the lagoon, and the park around it, it was a pleasant stop.
Well that was until the ladies decided they needed to use the toilets.
Hmmm how do I describe the experience?
We drove down to the waterfront harbour and packed next to the toilet, a standard looking toilet building we would all recognises. That was, until we exited the bus, and then the smell hit us, I'm still not sure whether it was the toilets or the fishing village wharfs, but it was umm, how can I describe it,,,,,, ahh let's just say it took your breath away…… Hil reckons you could cut it with a knife, but she is exaggerating it…. (what dear? Ahh you are definitely NOT exaggerating it! Yes dear.).
BUT it was not the smell that really upset the ladies….
The toilet block had the standard ladies and gent's entrances on opposite sides, but once inside! I am advised by the ladies they had a grand view of the gents using the urinals. And for some strange reason, they seemed reluctant to availed the gents of viewing the counter view.
Hil told me she was more than willing to hold on until we got to a more suitable utility.
It seems our women are a little fussy over their concepts of public toilets.
One of the main highlights was a visit to the Bimmah sinkhole (Hawiyat Najm Park) near the seaside. At some stage a part of the landscape had collapse inward forming a large hole about 100 or so metres across, and about 50 metres deep.
The local government have created an extensive park around it with kids playground and picnic areas, which would have been great if it had included grass instead of rocks.
But the sinkhole was quite spectacular, on one side where the hole had collapsed and had formed a bit of a ramp up, they had constructed a switch back of stairs, to give access to the swimming hole at the bottom. When we got there, there was only two people at the bottom, both swimming.
By the time I had climbed down there where about twenty people down there, most swimming or getting ready to go swimming. With in 10 or so minutes it was getting quite crowded down there, and most were not from our bus, god knows where they came from.
Oh, by the way, can I say, if you decide to investigate something at the bottom of some steep stairs, and each step is about 300mm high you should seriously consider the wisdom of travelling down them. Especially when there's hundreds of the buggers.
I Wish I Did!!!!!! Have you any idea?? What it's like to climb that many, and that size stairs, on a day of around 41 deg C?
You remember that comment in the last post about Rollie Pollie John? You can scratch that now!
It seems I was showing great wisdom and stocking up for this experience!
Our last stop was another sea side town in the area of Wadi Tiwi. Again, another beautiful rugged coast line, that is truly amazing in it's contrast of colours between the sea, coast, and mountains.
It was here we were to stop for a picnic box lunch.
I have no idea who decided that they would change the lunch stop location. But damm I was not complaining.
We went from a seaside picnic of sandwiches in the hot sun, to a gourmet buffet meal in an air-conditioned resort restaurant.
I did not hear one complaint from the 50-odd people on our bus when we were advised of the detour.
Again, we lined up for an extensive buffet meal, including sweets, and proceeded to gorged ourselves silly.
We have had now, three consecutive ports, where we have dined on the most delicious local cuisine.
And
No! when we got back to the ship I did not have dinner, otherwise Rollie Pollie would have returned.
It's been another great port and have enjoyed ourselves immensely.
Fair weather to you all
From the Winterlesses2
Port 5 - Dubai – 26th & 27th June
Dubai…… What can you say????
The Biggest & Bestest of everything, at least that is what they claim.
And in general, yes, the buildings are amazing; the roadways are immaculate; the MRT (Rail system) is incredible, fully automated, no guards/no drivers!!!; Shopping centres are humongous, (including the prices I might add, almost all big brand names); I don't think there is anything about Dubai that is not over the top.
Except maybe, their public Wifi which is dismally slow to down load from, and also their post system, which is non-existing in their malls. The lady in the Mall info centre says, you need to go outside, across the road and down a bit, and there is a post box. Now anyone who has been here knows, first you really take your life in your hands crossing any of their bloody highways, secondly who is going to go for a long walk outside in 43 deg C, in full sunshine, just to post a dam postcard? Then she says or you could use a courier. A courier??? What from Dubai to Australia? She's gotta be joking!!
Anyway, to get on with our visit here, as we have been here a few times already, so we're being sneaky, they charge taxi drivers for the privilege of coming into the cruise terminal area to pick up passengers, which is then passed onto you the passenger.
So, we are getting the free shuttle to the Mercato Mall, not far from the Dubai Mall. The Mercato is an older shopping Mall, about 1% of the Dubai Mall, but don't think for one moment it is a tiny mall. It is still bigger than Toombul shopping centre.
In fact, in a lot of ways it is a much friendlier shopping centre than the bigger malls.
We enjoyed a couple of hours there, wandering around. The thing that stood out most to us was the supermarket, the operative word here is definitely "Super", it is typically Dubaian, large and I think it sells just about anything you could wish for.
But the thing that impressed us most was the fresh food area, the cheeses; olives; antipasto's; breads; fish; fruit; pastries; meats, raw and cured; and every other deliciously edible thing you could possibly want, not only were they fresh but the quality outstanding. I just stood there for awhile salivating, I had to catch myself from dribbling. God, I wish we had something half way like it near home. We could not even buy some of the cheese or olives because we had no where to keep them. There would have been at least 50 or so types of cheeses, and at least 20 or so types of olives. Some I have never heard of let alone seen. I had no idea that there are that many types of olives let alone the variety of colours in olives.
After having perused such a smorgasbord of beautiful food we had become quite hungry, so we slipped outside for the real reason we came to Mecarto Mall, to get a cheaper taxi and headed onto our ultimate destination, the "Mall of the Emirates" a place we have not had the chance to see previously, and where we had planned to have lunch.
The Mall of the Emirates main claim to fame is it is the only place in the Middle East where you can go downhill snow skiing and tobogganing in real snow. Our dinning venue is a place we have eaten each time we have come to Dubai. It is called "The Cheesecake Factory", yes it does specialise in it'd namesake, and other equally sickly-sweet stuff. But it also offers some of the yummiest main meals, with a middle eastern twist to them.
They seem to have francizes all over the place in Dubai. Every time we have eaten at one we have left with very full tummies, and taste buds thoroughly sated.
As an added bonus with this one, we were seated right beside the window looking into the Snow World.
View from our table
The place is typical Dubai, crazy amazing, here we sit in an country where the outside temperature is hovering around 41 deg C, and next to us people are skiing, flying down toboggan runs, and having snowball fights, while all wrapped up in full Saint Maritz winter snow clothing, breathing out little frosty breaths. These Dubaiers are truly crazy.
After a very enjoyable lunch we proceeded to explore the Mall, actually it was similar in many ways to the Dubai Mall, but IMHO, the snow room aside, it just did not have the finish and awe that the Dubai Mall has. But each to their own in that regard, I'm sure there are others who would dispute that with me.
But as my gym shirt says "I might be wrong! But it's highly unlikely".
After a few hours we grab another taxi and head back to our home, and as we head through the cruise terminal to the ship I tell Hil to go ahead, I will try to update the computer and several programmes.
You see I bought my self a new tablet computer for the trip about a month before we left, I went through an up loaded the latest versions of all the apps/programmes we would be using while away, and then went through and updated them all where needed the last few days before we left.
Would you believe! one day after we left, at least 4 of them notified they required a major upgrade be completed, and several smaller ones kept saying they required to be update. Some times I could spit chips, what is it with this world that every one seems to think you are connected to the net 24/7. And the phone has been no better, tried to use it to surf the net, it spent most of the time trying to update the 4000+ bloody apps it comes with, 99% useless as far as I'm concerned, and which of course you are not allowed to delete or tell them don't update.
Now that brings me to one of the points at the start of this port blog, Dubai's bloody wifi. It was bad enough that 4 million apps wanted to update, but the net was so slow that everything bogged down and I spent two and a half hours doing what should have taken me about 20 to 30 minutes at most, AND STILL did not get to update the critical ones I wanted to.
I HATE MODERN BLOODY TECHKNOLOGY, Grrrrr ʤghʐʫ bzxʦʑɶ gxbdgdv! Hrtx wlssjd xxkd haazwwf!
Oh, by the way, Have a great day
Fair weather to you all
From the Winterlesses2
Port 6 - Aqaba – 2nd July
Today we are taking it easy, after a hectic few days of doing absolutely nothing, just relaxing and enjoying the sea days.
We have been to Aqaba previously, on that visit we went on the Wadi Rum excursion, it was the site that Lawrence of Arabia rallied the Arabic nations to unite and fight the Germans in ww1, the day was a lot of fun and educational.
However
Today most people are going on the Petra trip, about 10 or so hours, a bit long of a drive for us, not to mention one of us, is not keen on a several kilometres walk in 40 deg C mid-day heat, just to look at some dilapidated buildings, carved into some red dusty rocks. I did try to explain it has great religious and historic cultural interests, but at 40C blistering heat she was not to be convinced.
So instead, we are going to just walk around the port city, and soak up some of the local culture, with some Cruise Critic ship buddies Ros & Arnold.
There is not that much to see really, but particularly pleasing about the place, is that it is not another Dubai, just an honest to goodness, real middle eastern port town. Almost everything sold here seems to be "Made in Turkey".
The clothing is western sort off, but with a Turkish kind of twist to it. It's not that it does not look good, just a bit, you know different!
There are signs of rebuilding going on, but mostly it is old, "I've seen better days" type shops and businesses.
Actually it is that quality about it that makes it interesting to walk around, and soak it up.
Some buildings give an air of a war zone, but I can't remember Jordan being at war, since the six day war back in the 70's, so maybe it's just dilapidation.
As we walk around I start to feel something, wiggling into my senses. It was quite awhile before I was able to put my finger on it, then I realised it was a complete sense of safety. We didn't feel any sense of wariness in those around us.
It was strange, and hard to put a finger on why, we were in an Arabic country with a totally different culture to ours, very few people speak English, we are in an area of the world where violence seems to be the norm, but we all said we felt very safe.
It was about then I realised the police did not carry any weapons that I could see.
Every country we have visited, since we left, the police were carrying, fire arms, pistols and/or automatic rifles.
Even in Australia the police carry side arms. But here in Aqaba Jordan they don't seem to carry anything.
It sort of, makes you feel safe, knowing if the police don't seem to need weapons to patrol it's streets, what is there to worry about.
One of the attractions of Aqaba city, is that they have started to excavate the original early Islamic city of Ayla which is located right in the middle of the current city just up from the beach.
It's quite interesting as you walk around the site, that a whole civilisation existed right under your feet.
The ground level we are standing on would have been around the original 1st level roof height. They have excavated several areas, down to around the original ground floor levels, and a long length of an original wall. Each home appears to have been very small, appearing to comprise of only 2 or 3 rooms, each not more the 3x4 metres in size. Life seems to have been much more compact then.
Also, by the fortifications around the perimeter, it would seem, subject to attack from unfriendly neighbours.
I don't know what it is, but I find these places fascinating and could spend some time exploring them.
But all to soon, the boss lady, she takes hold of my ear and drags me away, she does not seem to find these places, particularly fascinating at all, and says she can think of better places to be in 40C.
Some people are really strange don't you think?
NO not me! Her! We're talking about her….. Oh well then, have it your way….. grumble, there's nothing bloody wrong with me….
We had been walking around for a while, when Ros suggested a restaurant she had been advised would be a good place to go. So, off we set sail for there, in the upper area of the town. It was a very Arabic style place, up some narrow steps, to a softly lit place, very comfy looking with nice chairs at little tables with glass tops over a diorama of seashells, sand and other oceanic nick knack's. Felt a bit strange at first, but when we settled in, the décor felt just right for the atmosphere of the place.
We asked the waiter for a typical light shared meal of something local, what we got was a sort of middle eastern antipasto. Tomatoes, olives, bits and pieces of other vegetables, and several dips, served with the local flat bread.
Actually, it was perfect for what we wanted. It was very enjoyable. We washed it down with a local drink called a polo, not sure what was in it, but it was green, light, refreshing, with a taste of lime, very enjoyable.
After lunch we went for a walk down to the local beach, to look at the crystal-clear waters as they lapped up on to a broad golden beach. Sounds great doesn't it, Well would have been, except the beach was made of fine grainy gravel, and as it was about 40C, I was dam glad I was not walking on it bare food.
What we did see however, was these black blobby things, rippling around, swimming back and forth near the water's edge. They would often be frolicking about with loads of shrieking noises. I thought they were quite strange, however they were obviously having a lot of fun.
But it seems to me, it would have been a lot cooler, and easier to move about, if they had not been wearing burqa's while swimming.
What a silly custom, to go swimming in a tent, honestly, I ask you, people have some strange customs.
But I guess, at least they would have been cool on their way home.
We finally decided to head home, and where the ship was parked, from where we were standing on the beach, it would have been at most, a 15 to 20 minute pleasant walk through an interesting beach front area, from there.
But as you are not allowed to walk on the wharf, we had to return to the middle of the town, to catch a shuttle bus ride back to the ship, (10 minute walk to bus, 10 to 15 minute wait for bus, plus 15 minute bus ride, total about 30 to 40 odd minutes). But at least the bus is airconditioned isn't it dear?
We are now home, showered, made pleasantly smelly, freshly dressed and settled into comfy seats on deck 5, and I am making close friends with a Strawberry daiquiri. Life is truly hard for adventurist travellers.
We now have three sea days before Cephalonia (Argostoli) Greece, when we will have six port cities, seven port days in a row. Then a series of only 1 or 2 sea days between each of the next 6 or 7 ports after that.
So, prepare for some long gap days between blogs. But I will endeavour to catch up as soon as I can.
Fair weather to you all
From the Winterlesses2
Port 7 – Argostoli “Cephalonia” – 8th July
9:20am
We have been advised last night, much to our disappointment, that another ship is arriving at port before us, and thus will be docking at the pier instead of the Sea Princess. So, we will be anchoring offshore and tendering in to Argostoli.
Grumble, a bit sneaky if you ask me, speed up your arrival to pinch the best spot.
Now a lesser man than me would wish them evil, but I say “C'est la vie mon ami” (Such is life my friend), what you sew so shall you reap, their day will come. Be happy.
We are planning another easy day, just wandering around the port, enjoying all that the Greek culture can offer us, tzatziki, moussaka, and ouzo. Lots of ouzo I hope! Weather is fine, with a bit of a breeze going, but seas are very light, looking forward to a very nice day.
10:32am
Just announced the ship that stole the berth spot got there, and the wind conditions were such that they could not dock, and have decided to skip the port, and are passing us, off to our port side. The captain (Well he’s actually the Princess fleet Commodore) has advised we are proceeding to port, as he thinks the winds will settle by the time we get there. All being well we will be docking at that pier after all. You know what I say, C'est la vie, mon ami, all comes to he who waits. Can’t help an evil little chuckle though, and a smirk at them, as they go by.
11:30
Wind had dropped and we are docked, the sun is shining, we are happy, No ships shuttle! Yay, and we are walking.
Argostoli is a typical quiet little Greek port. The buildings in themselves, are not particularly striking. But typical of what I have seen in the Mediterranean, all very beautifully decked out with amazing flower boxes and trees.
The street we are walking down is a blaze with colour, it is an avenue of bliss to the eyes.
Hil & I are on the first of our leisurely walk the town, on you own jaunts. Really looking forward to these days in which we get to stretch our legs.
The walk from the ship is a fair step of about 1.5km, to the town square, which mostly contains restaurants.
We are sailing on past these, to the main shopping avenue the “Lithostroto”, even though it is midday, and the lunch crowds are starting to mill around.
We figured if we wait until the lunch period quiets downs a little, we can take advantage of the reduced crowds in their shopping avenue, while they eat.
Well that was the general idea anyway, but I think about several thousand people had the same idea.
All is shoulder to shoulder, but things seem to be thinning out a bit as we get further in, and you will not believe why, nor will you believe where they’re going!
Regularly along this street, there are little shops, with little fish tanks, in them.
Why you ask would that reduce the crowd?
Well, you see, the people, they go in, they take their little shoesies & socks off, and they put their little feet, into the little fish tanks.
Why in the world would they do that! you ask?
Because these little fish tanks, they have lots of little fish in them!
WHY?
So that these little fish’s, they can eat all the dirt and the dead skin off your little feet!!!!
Why? would you do this you ask?
Don’t ask me, I have no idea why any sensible person would do such a gross thing.
Oh, come on Hilary, that’s just plain not true!
My reluctance to put my feet in the dam tanks, has nothing to do with the bloody fish dying, that’s just being plain mean!!
This street is just full of all sorts of shops, and even thought it is only 5 to 6 hundred metres long, it takes us some two hours to travel its length. Now every guy knows why it takes so long, women just have to investigate every shop, and closely examine every article of clothing, nick knack, etc. Where a guy just breezes past, sums up what’s there and moves on.
Now I have a small question for you, after two hours in 500m how many articles has my young lady purchased?
Nil, None, Zilch, Zero!
And how many for yours truly?
Two, a very nice traditional man’s Greek shirt, took me no more than 2 minutes to buy, and a packet of Ouzo lollies, less than 30 seconds.
Why the Ouzo lollies? Why Not! And yes, they were yummy.
ps: Hil says I have to add the following: -
Men are far quicker to spend, than women are, and women look for quality.
pps: But if that is true,
How come there are a quillon more women’s shops than men’s?
Not to mention squillions more fashions & styles!
(I am now going off to the ship doctor to have both ears treated for cauliflower bruising, from having them soundly clipped, after Hil read my pps.)
2:30pm
We have returned to the square which is now, much quieter, and plenty of spare tables.
For lunch we have chosen, a real Greek salad, for Hil, and a real moussaka for me, made by Greeks, in Greece.
And can I say, they were delicious. Really enjoying tasting the authentic local cuisine.
All washed down with a locally produced a Pino Grigio for Hil, that was a very nice drop, and lovely red that had a totally un writable name in English for me. The Greeks must have at least a dozen more letters in their alphabet, than we have.
Oh, and a glass of Ouzo, of course! Here the ouzo is served in a small glass with crushed ice, as an appetite.
Very nice on a hot day. But I think I prefer it pure and unadulterated, a bit like me.
With that last comment, I think I may retire to bed.
Goodnight all.
Tomorrow we have Corfu.
Fair weather to you all
From the Winterlesses2
Port 8 - Corfu – 9th July
Corfu is another beautiful Mediterranean Greek port. The main visual thing that stands out as you sail in, is the two forts. The first and in my opinion, way more spectacular of the two. Is the Old Fort, which is located on the promontory as you enter the harbour. The second, and spectacular in that it is the most formidable and dominates the Old Town, from the small mountain that overlooks the town and bay. The Old Fort is about 15th or 16th century origin, and has that unique cross, from being functional, for the warfare of the time, with that flair they had, for making it interesting to look at with its relief work, and coloured stone work.
As against the purely functional grey stone and concrete work of about the middle 1800’s, that had to deal with the world in which canons could reduce the older forts to rubble rapidly.
Both, I find very fascinating, but alas the love of my life, is not so enamoured with climbing up & down and all over them, nor in admiring the way they could pour boiling oil over attacking foe. Nor how they could rain down all sorts of mayhem from the battlements.
Women are very different than men in some things. We men find them hard to understand some times.
But as Maurice Chevalier once said “Viva La difference”. They do have other attributes that make them worth keeping.
Here in Corfu we are taking a private bus tour, which is to include a visit to the Achilleon palace, which we are told was the home of Empress Elisabeth of Bavaria.
Corfu was Elizabeth's favourite vacation place and she built the place to gratify her admiration for Greece and its mythological culture.
It is all that you could imagine, that someone, of that status and time, would build. Where money and labour were not an issue. Drag several thousand tons of rock, marble, and statues up hundreds odd metres of mountain, with no real roads to speak of, no worries, just hire a few thousand more labourers.
It is a beautiful place with a majestic outlook over the island of Corfu. We spent nearly two hours here, and it was quite a fascinating place as the tour guide led us around. She unfortunately fed us with so much information, about half way around my brain went dead, and not only could I not take any more in, I totally lost most of the stuff she told us.
So, I’m sad to say, you have all I can coherently put together. But the stories she told, were truly of epic Greek love & tragedy proportions, where everyone dies unhappy. Or is it? they just seem that way to me?
However, it was a beautiful building and the gardens just magnificent.
After she died it was sold and resold to several different progressive owners, over the centuries, including the Keizer William, and up until recently it was used as a gambling casino.
Now that, I reckon, would have made poor Elisabeth roll over in her grave.
After that we went for a long ride around the mountains of Corfu, and eventually wound up at the Monastery of Paleokastritsa. All the while we travelled, our guide talked non-stop telling us the history of everything Greek.
All of which, any part, would have been most probably fascinating, except I just couldn’t take it all in, it was a relief to get to the monastery.
Well I thought it was. We exited the bus for a very short walk to the church, which was a single room of about 8 metres wide and about 30 metres long, very plain, very little furniture, with some fresco’s painted and some religious paintings, before we went in she spent 45 minutes telling us about the church, then took us in and spent another 45 minutes describing the interior. By now I am sure my brain has solidified. Then back onto bus, to more information.
But relief at last arrives, as we arrive at a beach resort area, for free time to roam. Hil and I drift to the other end of the beach area to a couple of the best ice-creams we have had. This is a picture book beach location, soft sand beach around a cove, with cliffs either side, and magical blue crystal-clear ocean. A dream spot really, except about 10,000 other people have also discovered it, and are here today!
Then we were back in the bus for lunch in the mountains. The location was breath taking, the food very nice and would have been very appreciated, if there had been more than just a small snack.
Finally, we returned to Corfu for a, on your own walking tour of Old Corfu Town.
Bliss no one talking, just a nice leisurely walk around the historic buildings, and browse the shops.
Finally, back to the ship, for a quiet Strawberry Daiquiri.
It was a bit unfortunate with the guide, she was a good speaker with excellent English, but needed to understand, people can only take so much in.
But none the least a very good day out, the scenic sights and places visited, were worth every bit of the trip.
Fair weather to you all
From the Winterlesses2
Port 9 - Kotor – 10th July
Kotor is one of those ports we went to in the 2014 WC, that we have been looking forward too.
It is also a port that requires tenders to access, but as it is in a very sheltered bay, the tendering is very smooth.
Actually, they refer to the port as the southernmost European fiord, but according to the purists, it isn’t really, it is in fact a sunken river valley.
What is the difference?
No bloody idea. But as far as I’m concerned, they can call it whatever they bloody well like. It’s their dam waterway.
Today we have two other cruise liners in with us. We have the Sea Princess (2150 Pax), Crown Princess (3200 Pax), and another ship, I forgot the name (about 2000 Pax), so just the cruise passengers we have around 7500 people in town, add to that we’re told about 1500 Russians, 1000 Serbians, and around 1500 miscellaneous other nationalities, are in town. i.e. around 12000 look’n peepers, walking around visiting the town today.
For you lot who don’t know what a Pax is, it is a passenger.
Evidently some one in the airline industry couldn’t spell passenger, so he wrote “Pax”.
Just thought I’d throw that in, as they like to use it around the ship.
Last time we were here, we only got to spend about 1½ hours in the town, this time we have allocated the whole day to it, because we hardly had time to give it a quick look over the main two streets and have a glass of wine.
Kotor is more or less as we remember it. But the only thing is, they have discovered those ultra-cheap memento souvenirs etc. Which in it’s self is not terribly bad, but when you stick tiny little shops selling them, ever few metres, it really starts to make the place look a little tacky.
We have taken to the back streets, to explore the less travelled areas, and it is a delight, very few tourists, and a wealth of history to enjoy. You could almost imagine what it would have been like to walk here hundreds of years ago.
Eventually we make our way back to the outdoor restaurant we had a glass of wine at, at our last visit in 2014.
It is in one of the main squares, wedge between two major churches, and their bell towers.
Which makes it very, umm, rather noisy at 12pm.
We have settled in with a very enjoyable meal, and a bottle of wine, to indulge in a little “watching life goes by”.
People come in all sorts of shapes and styles, and it is interesting to watch, but the ones that give me the most amusement, is the tour guided groups. The guides out in front, with their little paddle, with coloured disk and number, leading his little flock behind him, a-la “Green 3, we are walking this a way, or we are stopping and I am a talking”.
And their little flock follows very obediently. In the case of the Japanese, very diligently! Other nationalities maybe not so, but ohh god, I feel sorry for them leading Australian’s! It’s like herding cockroaches, and in the narrow streets and crowds of Kotor, it must be enough to drive them totally bonkers. So please in your prays tonight, give them a little mention, the guides that is!
With a very pleasant lunch under our belts, and some more back street exploring, we’re back off to the ship shuttle to return to our little home at sea.
Fair weather to you all
From the Winterlesses2
Port 10 - Dubrovnik – 11th July
Dubrovnik like Kotor is one of those places we visited in 2014, and just loved it, and another highly anticipated stop on this trip. It is very similar in many ways yet very different in others to Kotor, for starters it is much larger, and much to our relief not wall to wall of those tacky souvenir shops like at Kotor. Don’t get me wrong, there are plenty of shops but more interesting and of better quality.
The city is best known for it being the location for scenes in the TV series “Game of Thrones”. Yes, it truly does look like a medieval castle/city.
On my list, today, is to walk the walls and explore the little laneways.
BUT, no sooner through the main gate and my plans are dashed. Not only, do they charge a fortune to walk the wall, the dam que to get onto the wall snakes out of sight…….
Not diminished, we decide to walk the inside of the wall, at least we won’t have to cope with all the steps up and down the wall has.
Umm, I’m sorry dear, how the hell was I to know that inside the wall, it has more stairs up and down than the jolly wall does?
We have climbed, up and down about 10,000+ steps, got totally lost, several times, its approaching midday, its boiling hot, and someone is drifting towards grumpy. But its ok, I can see large group of people walking just ahead of us, just over the next rise.
Hmmm, we are on that little rise, and those people we can see in front of us, (note in front, not above) are walking the wall. Yep the wall! We are on a rise inside the city, at the same height as the wall at that point!
Arr, yes dear that does mean we have to find more stairs and try to find a way down. Oh we’re having fun aren’t we? ……… yes dear, I will find us a way down……
We found those stairs and we are partially back down to main street level. BUT, we are being blocked, seriously blocked, not by bricks and mortar, or iron, but something much more solid that that!
Would you believe whole packs of fanatic GoT fans (for those who live on another planet…. GoT = Game of Thrones), and you’re not going to believe this, they are holding up pictures from the tv show, that are scenes taken from around the city, and as they find them, they hold the picture up in front of them and take a selfie of themselves at the location.
People are weird, why would you? To each his own, yes dear.
A clear way opens and we’re through, and we start our search for a suitable place for lunch, now this involves, walking past almost every eating establishment in the city, until a certain someone finds that mystical one that takes her fancy.
But I can’t complain, because she has been doing this everywhere we go, and as of yet, never taken me into a place that I haven’t enjoyed my meal, nor have I ever suffered Montezuma’s revenge, from a place she chose. I on the other hand have chosen some places with less than desirable results.
Lunch over and more sight seeing done, and we head home, with contented hearts, and happy dispositions.
Looking forward to tomorrow and two days in Venice.
Fair weather to you all
From the Winterlesses2
Port 11 - Venice – 12th & 13th July
Day 1
We're old hands at Venice now, so we are going it alone, we are going to take the People Mover to the Piazzale Roma, near the main bus terminal, then explore out from there. Our area of roaming today is the "Dorsoduro District", it is to the right, between the Grand Canal and the Main Sea Channel.
One of our target destinations is the Peggy Guggenheim art gallery, we tried several times last time we were here but could not find it.
Everyone who comes to Venice, their biggest worry is getting lost. Which is silly really, getting lost is the best part, lets face it, if you did not get lost, would you have seen half as much? Now the Dorsoduro District is an excellent place to get lost in, for several reasons,
First: you can't get to lost as you are bounded by two major waterways.
Second: Its a residential area mostly, which means, few shops to distract the little ladies, which means less wasted time standing outside waiting while they ferret around for a half hour at each, to buy nothing.
Thirdly: Not many tourists wander in there, so it's not so crowded.
Fourthly: It's quite an old area, and the building have a charm, and the render has become so weathered away, as to expose the base bricks, and the mortar has also weathered away, exposing deep groves between the bricks, giving a unique texture to the laneways.
And Lastly: If you need to get back to where you stated, you just need to veer to the right until you come to the Main Sea Channel, then it's an easy, fairly straight run almost all the way to the Piazzale Roma.
What can go wrong?
Well, we did proceed to get us lost, almost immediately. So, we wandered and we wandered, we must have covered most of the district. As the day wore on we started to focus on Peggy, a quick perusal of our trusty tourist map, I stole from the internet, followed by an even longer look after that, which revealed a very important fact.
We were lost, we had no idea where we were. So, we did the only logical thing you can do in a case like that.
We threw the map away.
Initiating my infallible internal compass, I proceed to lead Hil through the streets, Hil, in her normal manner, is highly doubtful of my ability to know where we needed to go.
A little while later, we are now standing on the other side of a canal, which on our previous visit, is where we gave up the hunt for Peggy's, cut our losses, and returned to the ship.
But this time Hil is standing there, shaking her head, ruefully bemused, for we are standing directly outside the Peggy G museum shop, note "shop" not art gallery. A quick check inside, reveals 10 metre continuation down the street, and we are at last, at Peggy G's Art Gallery.
Well, I am infallible again with my internal compass.
My smug looks, only produce more rueful shakes of the head, and a "John, I'm tired, let's just go in"!
(Long sigh, ego depleted) Yes dear.
Now we have been looking forward to this for some time, so finding out you had to pay to get in, was a minor issue, even when we found out it cost us €36 to enter. But this is supposed to be an excellent gallery.
You see, Peggy was the wife of and American billion heir, and an art connoisseur, who used their wealth to buy great art and then donated it to prosperity, through their art galleries, one in Venice and one in NY. Which is run by a trust she set up to support, help, and encourage new artists.
So, with excitement abound, as we had at last, found it, we sail on in.
The entrance is through a beautiful garden, immaculately maintained, and forms several delightful outdoor rooms. Each featuring pleasantly sculptured plantings and garden statues & furniture, and a cafe.
There are two gallery buildings, we have chosen the left one, and expectantly enter the foyer.
Unfortunately, it seems they are reorganising the displays, it is stark and only a couple of paintings on the wall with a lot of small photos in frames around them.
But no, it's not being upgraded.
This is it! This is the exhibited displays!!!
There are at least 9 or so rooms like this, through the building, all with little photos ranging in size from about 50mm to 100mm square, They are all about the photographers travels through ancient ruins, back in the early 1900's, and his documentations of what he found, with the odd piece of art, here or there.
In general, the photos were so small, they were hard to really appreciate.
In a museum of history, I am sure they would have been fascinating, but for two people who paid to see art, they did not quite cut the mustard you might say.
Heading over to the other building, we are hoping for actual art works. As we head through the door our hopes sored, there were art frames on all the walls. We take a happier breath-in and start to browse through the displays of paintings.
But, what are we looking at? I'm not sure?
In the first room, each of the "art works" are images of squares, some painted, some made up with what looks like paper sheet to me, others I'm not sure of what medium was used! All are labelled "a study in squares", some frames contain a large square with a smaller one offset slightly, which also has a smaller square, offset in it. That's it! They were all similar, in fact I could not pick any difference between some.
Another room had six paintings by Jackson Pollack, all of them very similar to the so called "Blue Poles".
There was also a large framed note from Peggy saying she believed him (Jackson) to be the greatest painter since Picasso.
Well I know many people think his art (Jackson) is great, but I'm afraid, this little bunny is not one of them.
As we travelled around, the art as we saw it, seemed to me, to be more like something you would see on kindergartens art walls.
I'm sorry to disappoint them, but, nothing I saw there impressed me in any way.
I guess they will see me is an uninformed cretin.
That may well be so!
But if I have to have someone tell me what I'm looking at, I think the art has missed the mark.
However, there was one which I believe needs special mention: -
Now I want you to imagine a creamy coloured canvas approximately 1200x1200mm in size, where the artist has drawn straight horizontal & vertical lines to form a 50mm graph paper design on it, (in fact it could be a piece of graph paper enlarged 10 times and left to yellow), and that is all there is on the canvas.
Now it was the title and description that got me in: -
(Note: the description below is as close as I can remember, it may be out some, but contains the essence of the wording as I remember it.)
The piece was titled: The Rose
Its commentary was: (The artist has marvellously captured the essence of a rose,
and demonstrated their total connection with nature,
and their inner selves.)
I am going to leave it at that….
If you're in Venice, I would thoroughly recommend a trip to Peggy's art gallery,
IF you have Time, Money, and Appreciation of some art things, to waste. IMHO
We have now wandered back, taking, that if your lost route mentioned above, and we are now safely ensconced in a very nice waterfront café, and enjoying, a very nice wine, and a pizza.
From here we will ride the People Mover back to the ship terminal and retire, to regenerate for tomorrows little jaunt.
Day 2
Today we will travers through the following districts, San Croce; San Polo; & San Marco. Our aim is to walk to the Rialto Bridge and back. Exploring as much of the area we can.
This is a much different area to yesterday, with loads more shops, and what was the first thing we proceeded to do?
Well its pretty obvious really, we got LOST. Would you believe just after we crossed the first bridge!
You know that little internal compass of mine, there must have been a magnetic load stone nearby, as its needle kept spinning around, but again to Hil's head shaking disbelief, we after much, much wandering about, we pop up at the Rialto Bridge.
I'm sorry but I just can't help a big smug grin. Hil's just gives me one of her eye roles, and a "Now get us back" look.
Well, after discovering heaps of really quaint little streets, I did, we popped out of the labyrinth that is Venice, right next to the bus terminal.
Now not one to push his luck to far, I did not say a thing, just hummed a happy little tune, and tried to keep my lips from breaking into too big a smile.
We have now covered over our two visits here, most of the main island area from the Piazzale Roma to St Mark's Square. Venice is a beautiful place to visit, and would love to come here again, as there is still so much to see.
One thing I can tell you is, we have certainly walked a few calories off. The first day here we walked some 28000+ steps according to my Fitbit Ionic, and another 17000 odd steps on the second day.
This is added to the around 18000+ steps in Argostoli, plus 17000 in Corfu, plus 19000+ in Kotor, Plus 24000+ in Dubrovnik. We now have walking tours of Ancona, Messina, Sorento, and Barcelona.
At this rate we may need to buy new walking shoes, before we get home!
Fair weather to you all
From the Winterlesses2
Port 12 - Ancona – 14th July
We are just noticing something! I'm beginning to think the people who design marine ports, have a very sadistic and evil nature.
Quite often, if there is a berth that is the most remote from the gate, that is where we are required to dock. And because we are gentile people, we tend to think, well there must be some reason for it.
But I'm noticing, that even if the port is such, that the ship is parked just across from the place you wish to visit, the layout is such, that there is long rigmarole way to get from the ship gangway to the port gate. Dubai is one example of this.
But this port is a classic, if you were able to walk straight from the gangway to the main street of the town we would have to walk about 5 to 6 hundred metres max.
BUT no that is obviously far to simple, we are required to walk almost the full length of the ship, to the fence separating us from the town, then walk along this fence, about a thousand metres, then through a small portable building (that could be located anywhere) at the end of the town, then back the 1000m to the main street of the town, then proceed up a hill some 700m to the CBD. It's no wonder we are knocking up so many bloody steps.
Well we have arrived at the town, and we are perusing the available offerings, and they are many.
But first, I should point out this is our first visit to the port of Ancona, but we will have visited the delightful city of Ancona TWICE.
You see, we came here first thing this morning, but found we had run short of Euro's. So, we walked all over the city trying to find a money exchanger, no luck, the only one was a bus ride away to an outer suburb.
Ah banks you say, well yes there are banks, but over here you have to have an account with them, and use your pin to gain entry to them, oh and incidentally it's Saturday?
Oh yes, I know what your going to say, why not use your card, and withdraw from an ATM!
Well that would be a great idea.
Except, first they're not in English, and second, and the real reason, you have to have a card that has a 4-pin number, because the machines here, will not accept cards with larger pin numbers. Mine is a 6-pin number, why?
Because, I thought it would be more secure. Well it was, not even I could draw on it!
Ah you say, what about a travel card surely you got one before you left? Well yes we did……..
But you see, the one who was responsible for it, forgot what their pin number was!!!
I will not mention who it was, as I do not wish to embarrass them.
But suffice to say, after travelling all over Ancona, we had to retreat back to the ship, to get Euros from of the ship.
Because you see, one of us had found a purse, that was just adorable.
So, all the way back to the ship, (remember those 1000's of steps back and forth at the terminal?) then all the way back to markets at the top of the city, (with those 1000's of steps), just so they could buy the purse!
Well……. They would have bought it, had it not been snapped up by someone else, while we were away, getting the money……
We're hot and tired, and weary, (from those 1000's of steps) and there is someone who is seriously regretting, that they forgot their pin number, but, no I will not mention who!
You see, he's already in serious enough trouble, without everyone else knowing.
And that, is how we come to visit the delightful city of Ancona TWICE.
I think that's enough said for this port, and I'm not going back to the ship for a strawberry Daiquiri.
No, it will be for two or three of those little cognac bottles they stack my bar fridge with…
Fairer weather to you all, than mine!
From the Winterlesses2
Port 13 - Messina – 16th July
We are off to our first winery visit to day, it's way off into the hills, and although we are still in Italy, I'm sure I will be able to settle my nerves from the drive, with a few vino's. we have done several of these winery trips in Italy and France, and they are always a great day out.
Our arrival actually was quite smooth, and uneventful.
Except the bus has stopped on the edge of a bend at our left, and at the bottom of a short rise on our right.
The astute amongst you, have already twigged, what I'm going to tell you, that the winery, is on the other side of the dam road.
Which would be a worry in any other country. But here in Italy, is grossly irresponsible.
Crossing that road at that point, in Italy is almost tantamount to suicidal. How 50 of us crossed it safely, BOTH ways, I think is a minor miracle.
The winery is in a grand location, the view wonderful, and we are gathered on the edge of a beautiful garden rock wall, overlooking a magnificent valley view. We are being given a very well laid out antipasti smorgasbord, to enjoy with our wine tasting. Wine glasses bought out and the wine is being poured.
Um, about 15mm to each glass, I think princess, has taught them how to run a wine tasting. Bugger!
It is not what, I had hoped for, but they have about six wines to taste, so keep going back for a taste of each, twice.
Well maybe thrice.
The wines were all very nice, would have liked more.
But we are told that they will now take us on a tour of the winery, and then up to their cellar door, where we will be able to buy some if we like.
As everyone is trooping off, several of us notice, that there are a number of partially used bottles still sitting on the table.
Now as any young Aussie male knows, if you leave bottles of open booze on a table, that you should do your host a favour and help him clean up! (Ah, that also goes for older young at heart Aussie males as well.)
So, the four of us, not being slackers, stayed back, to help said host out.
By the time they came back we had almost finished the task at hand, but, one guy had found one, that unfortunately, someone had been neglected to be open. Not to worry, another of the guys says, lets open it for them.
Except it has one of those plastic sleaves that are almost indestructible. Not a worry he says, grabs this huge carving knife to cut the seal.
All this I thought was good….. But I had to point out one little flaw in his plan, I asked him, um what are you going to use to remove the cork??
Much searching, does not turn up the missing apparatus, so it was, that everyone returns, and the hosts noticed how we were diligently help them out.
They looked at the empty bottles, took our full bottle of us, and I think they said in Italian, something like "Don't ever leave wine unattended around Australian's again", at least that's what I deduced, by the sidelong looks they gave us as they packed up.
But it was, a very relaxed trip home for four particular members of the bus.
That's all I remember of Messina.
Fair weather to you all
From the Winterlesses2
Port 14 - Salerno – 17th July
Before I start todays blog, let me first say this: -
After having experiencing some seven Italian ports over some thirteen port days.
I have come to a conclusive conclusion, in regards to Italian drivers, and motorcycle/scooter riders.
They are without doubt …….. MAD, and I mean, CRAZYYYY MAD!
I am also convinced, that for an Italian to get a licence to use the roadway, he/she must first obtain, a full Doctorate in Kamikaze.
If this writing seems disjointed, or shaky! We took a bus trip today, say no more, just refer to the above.
We docked in Salerno today, and are on a bus trip to Sorento. Now Sorento is the other side the peninsular and right out to the very end of it, to Salerno, with a huge mountain range in between. The trip starts out with a climb halfway up the mountain on our side, on a very tight switchback road, then through some seriously long tunnels to the other side. Before actually heading out along the main road to Sorento. This trip is going to take 1½ hours drive time to get there.
To kill some time the local guide is regaling us with fascinating details of the local area, but I have become confused.
First that very, very narrow switchback with long drops at the sides, distracted me, then when we got to the tunnels, and when I tuned back in she was talking about "Sia-lern-na" and "Sora-renta", then she seemed to be talking about another place called "Sia-ern-no", and that we would arrive "Sonnee-tor" in about 1 hour.
At that, I started to panic that I had got on the wrong bus, but Hil calms me down, assuring me it's her accent, and we're ok.
In some ways, it would have been better and kinder, to have let me be distracted with where we were going, because about then we returned to roads that made the switchbacks look good. Oh, don't get me wrong I have been on mountain roads many times before. But not while every other road user, was trying to commit hari-kari!
Say no more, just refer to the above intro.
The scenery is definitely something to put on your list of things to see, the views down to the sparkling crystal blue water bays, with those little Mediterranean towns perched around then, is definitely spectacular.
And we are heading to one of the most famous of them.
As we enter into the small towns leading into the Sorento area, those narrow roads, get even narrower, in quite a few cases vehicles coming the other way have to negotiate who goes first through a section of a street.
It is handled very democratically, the most suicidal one plays chicken until the less suicidal one gives way.
Surprisingly the system works quite efficiently as traffic keeps flowing, however very slowly, not that I'm complaining about that "slowly", mind you.
You could imagine, what it would be like if they were at full speed.
Say no more, just refer to the above intro.
We have arrived at Sorento, it is a beautiful town, perched on the top edge of a cliff. Typical narrow streets, locals all seem very friendly. I think they metamorphous, when they unmount from their vehicles. Definitely Jeckle & Hide's.
The town is a favourite place of the rich and famous, with shopping ranging from the typical tourist knick-knack shops, and restaurants, through to the exclusive boutiques and expensive brand names.
Most of the accommodation, is Grand Hotels and swank apartments, with a mingling of cheaper but still upmarket private hostels & guest houses.
The harbour has multi-million-dollar yachts, some broaching on small ships, parked off shore, or docked at private piers.
Down at the beach side, there are several piers that run out from and along the beach, for people to climb up onto and sunbake on deluxe lounges.
Just so long as your prepared to pay, for the access and the privilege of course.
Hil and I spend a delightful few hours here, and you should take the opportunity to visit here, if you get the chance, the place is beautiful, and the views down to the harbour area are stunning.
There is a path that winds down from the cliff top to the beach area. The descent only takes about 15 minute, however, the return up could be around an hour or two, depending on your fitness. The good news is there is a road further around, so maybe a taxi return trip could be considered.
Oh, by the way in regards to the rich and famous, we looked, and we looked, but we did not see any of them, either its off season for them, or we are not mixing in the right circles.
And you can stop nodding at the later, we have actually bumped into a rich and famous person once, it was in NY, but we don't go around name dropping, to big note ourselves, about it.
Mainly because we had no idea who he was, and we never found out his name.
But we did stand right next to him while the media filmed, and photo'd, and people beg for his autograph.
It never occurred to me, at the time, that I had a camera cocked and ready in my right hand, to take a photo of him myself. STOP laughing!!!!
Our return trip back to the ship, was similar to the trip out. But I handled it better, I closed my eyes and slept through it!!!
Fair weather to you all
From the Winterlesses2
Port 15 - Barcelona – 19th & 20th July
We are up bright and early, for today we need to be out on the pier by 8am to 8:30am.
For we are off to see the La Sagrada Familia, the ugliest building, possibly in the world, so ugly it is actually beautiful in some strange way.
We visited it the last time we were here, but the tour we were on, did not include access to the internal.
So, we had to be happy with roaming around outside to take photos, and admire it's umm, let's call it, It's unique architecture.
This time I have purchased not only tickets to see inside, but also to tour the spires called the "Tower of Passion".
But have yet to tell Hil exactly what that entails in stairs. Figure its better to lead her in, blissfully unaware.
Should be interesting, Hil's not keen on "Blissfully Unawares" generally.
We need to be there by 9:30am, as our ticket for entrance is scheduled for then. If you turn up, out side your nominated time, you forfeit your entrance, hence the need to be on our way there by eightyish.
The plan is to get the port bus to a stop just outside the port gates, then get a taxi to the church, should be plenty of time.
Except when we arrive outside the port there are no vacant taxis available.
Panic starts to creep in to my little heart, when we have walked up, about a quarter the way up Las Ramblas, still no empty taxi's!
Panic is no longer creeping about, he's stomping around in my tummy. Hil's saying calm down we have plenty of time.
But just then, we see one pull up at a taxi rank across the road, taking no thought for our lives I drag Hil across Las Ramblas, I'm determined to get that dam taxi.
Now those who have visited here know that the road known as Las Ramblas, is very, very wide road with a very wide medium strip in the middle.
No small feat to wiz across in peak hour traffic. But we have our taxi.
It is now 8:50am, in a city just coming to life and there is traffic everywhere. The taxi driver, takes us on a very round about route to miss some of it, and drops us off a block short of the church, as he advises, it will be quicker to walk the rest of the way due to the traffic. We arrive at the church with about 10 minutes to spare. Hil calmly says, see no worries! Grrrrumble
We are at last. in the church, but only after we have been through a security check system that would rival any major airport.
Now as I have said this is an ugly, ugly building!
But inside you are suddenly transported into a different world altogether.
Where the outside is dark and foreboding, the inside is light, friendly, and actually amazingly beautiful. Now I have been into, some of the supposedly majestic cathedral's in the world, and in their own way, they are breath-taking.
But in my humble opinion, I find them depressing, dark and unfriendly. This building although as big as any cathedral, but is still only a church, is a breath-takingly beautiful church, and it is a full on working catholic church with an actual Mass being celebrated while we were there. The arched ceilings, columns, are graceful elegant, and the stained windows are literally pieces of art. Those stained-glass windows bring light into the church like no other I have seen. The interior is made bright, clean, majestically inspiring. In my wildest Demetra, I would never have thought, I would be sing praise for a church, but here I am, actually proclaiming this is worth seeing.
The world can surprise you sometimes.
After walking around taking photos, from all angles we could think of, we went in search of the entrance to the spires.
When we arrived at the entrance, we were told we could not take our bags with us, which we were not happy about. but put them in the little glass cases provided for them.
And then to Hil's delight we were directed to a lift that takes you to the top of one of the spires.
Off we go and when the lift reached the top, the lift operator informs us, that as the tower is under some building works, we will need to walk partially down this tower, then cross over to the adjacent one. Where we will need to continue down to the ground floor below. Oh, and by the way when you get to the second tower its 504 steps down to the bottom! Are we ok with that?
Seems a bloody silly place to ask the question at the top, would have thought logically you would ask it before taking someone to the top. But we all nod our heads, yeah, no problems!
Accompanying us is a family of 4, no idea as to nationality, but definitely foreign. Hil thinks they were French.
We let them start off first, so we can straggle along slowly taking our photos, I'm clicking away, and Hil is also madly clicking away with her phone. The views are amazing.
All is going well until we get to the cross over to the second tower. The first set of stairs, curve down in a left-hand spiral, each step is a stone block, and each riser is about 100mm deep, with a decent of about 30 deg. There is a solid stone wall on either side of us, with small windows regular on each side, until you reach the crossover which opens out onto a viewing landing with amazing views over the city. Which gives you a secure feeling of safety.
I don't know if you have been to the outside this church, but when look up from there, at the very top you can see people looking down. That is where we are.
But then comes the second tower of 504 steps. This tower the stairs rotate to the right. The steps are stone blocks just like the first tower. The left wall is the same as the previous tower, except it actually has a stainless-steel hand rail descending around it about 1 metre up from the steps.
But that is the only things that are similar.
The wall on the right side does not exist, nor is there a handrail, or any thing else that side, there is only a void all the way to the floor, 504 Bloody Steps Below. I was about a 1/2 dozen steps down the curve before, my eyes got below the curve of stairs, before I realised, our world had changed, not only was there no wall, the steps were still only 600mm wide stone steps, but now with a rise of about 150mm each step, and to really add a little spice to the situation, the steps descended at an angle closer to 45 deg. I grabbed tight to that steel handrail for life and fought my stomach to stay where it belonged, it was a LONG, LONG, LONG WAY DOWN.
I knew the instant Hil stepped into the shaft to join me, there was a long loud gasp of breath, and a word I didn't quite catch, (Maybe it was as well that I didn't, because it sounded like something I could not print here!!!).
I was thinking, my god, my god, we have to go all the way down this!
In hindsight, It was probably a rather appropriate place for me to suddenly learn to pray don't you think!
I believe, that young lady in the lift, had a very evil giggle, on her way back down to fetch another batch of ignorant lambs for the slaughter.
I can tell you, there were no photos taken down that stairway, to take photos would have required releasing the handrail! and there was no way I was going to release even one bloody hand from that rail. And let me tell you, neither was Hil.
The ones above I acquired later.
In fact, I don't think Hil has ever been so quiet.
The only time she spoke, was irregularly and in a very soft fragile, yet hopeful voice, "John, I think, we're, going, the wrong way".
She was very hopeful, but we weren't.
But I to, did wish several times we could have gone another way, especially if it had passed a certain little room with the letters "WC" on it!!!!!
We both hung on with both hands and hugged that bloody wall, all the way down, one very, very careful step, after another.
With great reluctance, we had to have a quick compulsive look down every so often, to see if the bottom was coming up…..
It Wasn't!!!!
Eventually it did of course, but I was at least ten years older by the time it did. And I was not sure if my pants were the same colour I entered with.
You know that feeling when you get off a small boat onto land after really rough seas? The feeling was exactly the same, knees were all wobbly for about five or so minutes till we got our land legs back.
Do you remember "The Blissfully Unawares" above? I think this was a case of, we were Blissfully Unaware. If either of us, had even a small glimpse of what was to come, there would not have been anyway you would have gotten us up to the top there.
When we reached the exit door at the bottom, we pulled ourselves together, and strode confidently out the door.
Who ever was out there, and knew where we had come from, would see a brave fearless couple emerge, no one was going to get pleasure from seeing fear and trembling on our visage…..
Then we walk calmly through the church and found a chair to sit nonchalantly on, while our knees stop knocking.
There is no way, this little jaunt would comply with WPH&S in Australia. In Oz they would have a strong metal mesh around the edge, and a full harness clipped to the rail. It would be a dam sight safer……
But nowhere near as exhilarating or fun.
Well in truth the fun only comes after you make it down to the bottom, and in hindsight.
What follows is verbatim from a promo for the stairs I found after we returned home and I quote:
"It Takes A Stoat Heart to Take These Stairs
The spiral staircase in the bell tower at Barcelona's Sagrada Familia church has no bannister to prevent you from taking a tumble
Many people are sceptical about going up the Sagrada Familia Towers due to the mere thought of coming down winding stairs. The stairs coil around the tightly closed walls and they are railing free. There are 504 stairs and though climbing them might seem like a task, it is entirely safe and not physically tiring. These spiral stairs resemble a snail, in sync with Gaudi's meld of architecture and nature. However, children below the age of 6 are not allowed to access the Towers as it not considered safe for them. Also, those who suffer from physical disabilities, claustrophobia and heart conditions are requested to refrain from accessing the Towers as it can be a strain for them and others alighting."
The underlining and bolding re the children and physical condition is by me. I'll let you contemplate that!!
With our now revitalise legs under us, we set off to walk back to the ship, it is only about 7km, just a brisk walk really.
About half way back we stopped for lunch, Greek salad for Hil, but real Spanish food for me. A vegetable Paella followed by something I have been dreaming of, for the last four years, but this time I know what it is called, it is a Spanish Crème brûlées, called a Catalina Crème brûlées, to my taste, far superior to the French version. As I said I have been looking forward to this a long time, and I was afraid that I would be disappointed. I wasn't, it was just as I remembered it, compared to the French version, the custard is thicker & creamier, and the sugar toffee on top thinner, and crispier. I was in heaven.
After lunch, we continued our walk to the ship shuttle bus pick up point. We were tired, very weary, but happy little duckies,
Oh, by the way that little walk was 17453 steps. Might have had something to do with us feeling a little tired I suppose.
Fair weather to you all
From the Winterlesses2
Port 17 - Southampton – 25th July
We’re in Southampton again, and this time we are going to the “Isle of Wight”.
Fortunately, we have docked at the Ocean Terminal, which is very close to the port gates, which also fortunately are close to the IoW ferry terminal. So, after a very short walk we are at the ferry terminal and the proud new owners of two aged persons return tickets to East Cowes.
OK yes, I’m happy to be an “Aged Person”, if it saves me about 20% of the fare.
While waiting for the ferry, I have taken to wandering around the pier. Hil doesn’t like me taking off on my little jaunts on my own, she fears I’ll get lost, (physically or distractedly) and miss our transport. But it’s kills some time, and I usually find something of interest.
This time was no exception, around the back of the pier, I found a guy with a hawk on his arm, and so go have a chat with him. It’s quite interesting, he works for the port of Southampton, he is engaged to walk around putting the willies up the seagulls, and your wondering does it work? Well as we walk into an open area, all the seagulls immediately start squawking madly, and take to the air, keeping well away from the area the guy and the hawk are. It’s quite spectacular, to the difference in the normal seagull squawks, much higher and definitely alarmed. Mind you, the pigeons and sparrows are not too pleased with its presence either.
The hawk I am advised is a Harris Hawk, and, I would jolly well like to have one at home. You know that saying of setting the cat amongst the pigeons? Well it would not be a bloody cat I would be setting amongst them, and they would not be sitting in a tree cooing down at me smugly either.
The ferry we are boarding, is a sleek fast ferry, which we are informed when we got on board, that it is “Red Jet 9”.
It is spick and span, gleaming actually, but there is a very good reason for that. It was christened into service late yesterday, and we are among the first passengers to ride in it. Do you think I’m impressed with that?
Nope after 50 days at sea, being on another bloody boat ride does not rated high, in my excitement meter!
Our trip today is a bus trip around the island, and is to include a vintage steam train ride, visit to several towns, and a long stop at the Needles a geological coastal feature on the far side of the island, before returning to Cowes for a walk around, before riding the ferry back to Southampton.
Our bus is ok, reasonably comfy, except for a droning noise, going on all around me.
It’s the women on the bus, complaining about the aircon not working, it is a hot day, (at least by British standards, about 32 deg C), and being locked up in a metal container does tend to get slightly warm.
It’s not bothering me really, but the little ladies like their comfort, and the driver is getting all sorts of advice on how to fix it, (none of it helping, but I’m not allowed to say that, so please ignore this little aside)
Anyway, we are coming into the railway visitor’s carpark, and he promises to find out what’s up with it while we ride the train.
We have been provided with our train travel ticket, which consists of a little blue dot stuck on our chests.
In an effort to help, I offered to assist him, by doing the ladies for him, but that only got me a clip in the ear from Hilary.
Truly I was only trying to be helpful, really truly I was!
It turns out we have just missed the train, and now must await it’s return, we have about an hour to kill.
So, off we go to the train museum, which turns out to be mostly a souvenir shop.
There is some interesting stuff there, but only enough to keep me interested for about 5 minutes. However, to be fair, if you’re a train nut ahh make that enthusiast, it would possibly keep you enthralled for some time.
I’m on my usual wandering jaunt, you know the type, where I wander around the back blocks of where ever we are, and I have discovered two people in a park playing catch with each other.
Well not actually catching something, more like encouraging it to land on a little timber frame in front of them.
The item they’re playing with, is a full size Golden Eagle, that they’re training to do demonstration flights, for public days.
How they do this, is a trainer stands at either end, of an open area about 100 metres apart, and encourage it to fly to the other. As it is a very big bird, they get it to land on a wooden perch at first, although they do have a large leather glove on one arm.
Why doesn’t the bird just fly off? Because it is restricted in its flight by a long cord with one end attached to it’s leg and the other to a weighted bag. It is able to fly but only for short trips, where they give it a little treat if its good.
Sort of similar to how women train men with a little treats, if their good.
A train is pulling into the station, and our group, which have been waiting a while, start to group around the entrance to the station, but another very large group, has arrived after us, and their yellow dots.
The yellow dots are English, and a pushy lot, we have been here nearly twice as long, but their trying to get in front of our group, but were not letting those pommy bastards in.
Huh, what’s that guy saying? The yellows are to go 1st? What we were here first!
Blues are to stand back please and let the yellows through? Groan that seems a little unfair.
Oh, I see, that’s not our train, it will be here soon.
Ow please my English chums, please do pass through.
Another group has arrived and they are the green dots, and an orderly line up has been arranged on the platform.
The green dots are up front, being loaded into blue carriages, and we are being loaded into green carriages.
Now remember these are vintage trains and carriages, they have first, second, and third, class carriages. I will give you one guess as to what the blues were, and what the green ones were.
At the first station, we pile out for a look around, first thing we notice is, that our carriage has a small first-class compartment at the front, AND it is EMPTY.
Now you know we Aussies are not slack in spotting a quick lurk, one of the other guys whips open the door and slides in, followed very quickly by yours truly. You know that old rule about occupation is ownership?
Well, it doesn’t work with vintage train guards, especially when it’s the QE suite, and that my friends is, “HRH Queen Elizabeth suite”, and the seat I’m sitting on, is her self’s personal seat.
We are allowed to have our photos taken while giving the royal wave, (tacky I know – But fun), but alas we must evacuate her carriage, and return to our third-class seat, disappointing, very disappointing.
But I did get to sit where HRH’s royal posterior sat. That almost like meeting a famous person isn’t it? No?
Well I’m desperate for a fame moment, so I’m going to claim it as one!
The train trip was fun, but other than the one very small bit of excitement above, trains don’t really get my excitement juices going.
We are now back on the bus and heading off around the island, all’s good except that AC problem, is still a problem, and there’s lots of muttering from the ladies, and so with great difficulty, and two burly guys, staining at reluctant catches, we have popped the sunroof in the bus, well it’s just a small hatch really, but although not fully satisfactory to the ladies, threats of mutiny have diminished.
We have travelled through several quaint towns, which looked interesting as we whizzed by, and listened to several interesting stories from the driver, however I’m thinking some of those towns looked like great places to stop, but onwards we go, finally we arrive, for a 1.5 hour visit at “The Needles” one of the IoW’s major tourist spots.
Well I’m sure it would be for families, or you couples madly in love, it was mostly a fun park, but to this old fuddy duddy grump, it was less than exciting, in fairness, some of our group went on the short chairlift ride down to a beach, and said it was an interesting ride for the views that it offered.
But I would have swapped it for a short stay in some of the little villages, with in a blink.
We have returned to Cowes, and we have been dropped off for time on our own, and individual travel back to the mainland and our sea home.
Free time in Cowes would normally be very enjoyable experiance, but due to the late train ride and the long time spent in The Needles, we have arrived in Cowes after 5pm, and almost everything is shut. But we still take the opportunity, to stroll through the Cowes water front area, and walk to the outer area and to stroll around the Royal Cowes Yacht Club.
I have seen several pictures of the RCYC, in my research of the IoW, and one of the things that interested me was, they have a full battery of early type of ship canon.
The blurb on the guns, tells how they use, several of the guns to start major races. Being an old artillery man, this was high on my priority list to visit here.
Now I am standing right behind those guns in the photos I have seen, I had planned to have Hil, take photos of me standing grandly by one, imagining lowering the taper and seeing clouds of smoke wafting past me.
But I don’t think it will be as grand as I had been imagining.
You know how they say photos can lie, well in this case, it was a WOPPER. In the photos they look like real full-size canons lined up between a forts crenulation’s. But in reality, these guns are replicas, and and to add insult to injury, they are at about 1:10 size, mounted on a 1 metre high stone model of a fort wall.
Hardly a grand sight to strike fear into anyone.
I stand here dejected, it was a long walk at the end of a very long day, to see a canon about the size of my own home made one, at home.
Hil leads me quietly back through the town to a pub, to drown my disappointment in a glass of wine, god I love this lady, she senses my fragility and quietly takes me somewhere to sooth me.
Pardon? Oh, you’re hungry dear, and we’re here for a meal!! (sigh) yes dear that would be nice too.
But I prefer to believe, it was for the first reason she brought us here, and she’s just trying to cover up her soft heart.
We are back home, and our next port of call is Cobh Ireland.
Fair weather to you all
From the Winterlesses2
Port 18 – Cobh Ireland – 27th July (Half way through the WC)
Cobh is one of those delightful places you visit and never forget.
Besides being the home of: -
the last port of call for the Titanic,
the port the Irish immigrants left for the USA,
and the place where the survivors of the Louisiana were buried.
It has an interesting history of its own with several forts having been built to defend the port of Cork, and a vital fishing history.
But most of all, it is one of those places, that is a delight to walk. Where locals will stop to talk to you.
To me it is the friendly port.
Last time we were here, we were welcomed by a large band, and Aust & NZ flags flying everywhere, there were concerts in the parks, and when we finally left, the band was there to play, and the town folk crowded the pier to wave their goodbyes to us as we sailed away. It was very emotional, and many a tear in the eyes of all on board.
This time, again the flags were out, and a band was playing at first, but it was drizzling slightly and threatening to rain full on.
So, the band is away under a marquee, and the crowds were not the same, and the day was a little soberer.
But the clouds cleared, and the day started to warm up in more ways than one. People were out, and Hil and I went walking the village, we walked through the town, and out into residential areas, and one of the nice things about Cobh, is the locals “do stop and talk to you”.
We travelled out onto a promontory, where they have a memorial park for the Titanic, and on a large glass wall here, they list the names of the people from Cobh who died when it sank.
They also have a museum next to the dock, with heaps of memorabilia from the Titanic.
We have walked up hill and down dale, and finally arrived back in town, stepped into a local pub for a wine, but alas, they do not serve meals, so after our wine, we head out to the Titanic Restaurant for an Irish meal.
The building the restaurant is in, is the original terminal building the Titanic left from. It’s been restored and rebuilt where necessary, and we are looking out over the original pier, not restored, and looking quite fragile.
I chose a very Irish meal of bangers & Mash, which were pork sausages on mash potatoes, with a thick gravy.
It was absolutely delicious, the bangers, juicy and bang full of flavour, and the gravy! Oh my god it was wonderful, and just the thing to swirl though the firm and fluffy mash. I just groaned in delight all the way through my meal, washing it down with a lovely Pinot Grigio, ummmm yum.
Hil had……. (now everyone who knows Hil, altogether now sing out….) CALIMARI…. No big surprise there, hay.
Now, when it turned up, Hil eyes just lit up, and I watched her start to get stuck in….. But, that look of expectation, faded, then it turned to disappointment, sad to say, her meal did not match mine. The calamari, was fried to the point of being almost crispy, and too dry for her to eat.
I have found over time, watching Hil eating her favourite dish, that calamari is a very fickle dish, it seems to be very hard to get just right, but when they do, I’m sure all the others just evaporate in her memory, and she is in heaven.
So not to worry Hil, maybe the next one will be the one…….
The Titanic, from me gets 5+ stars, from Hil maybe a -1 star, but I would go there again, just loved those Bangers & Mash.
All the time, we wandered around the village, the rain held off, and we enjoyed a bright, sometimes sunny, day, but just after we entered the Titanic, it bucketed down, and I mean really hammered down.
By the time we had finish our meal and wine it had slowed down to a light drizzle, so we took the opportunity and headed back to the boat. It has been a great day out, but the rain in the late afternoon let the people of Cobh down.
Oh, they needed the rain, as it had not rained for about two months, but I’m sure like us, wish it had waited, just one my day.
Unfortunately, the rain kept the people inside during our sailaway, so we did not get quite the send-off we received last time, but a staunch bunch of die-hard locals, sent of the boat, from their doorways and windows of the local pubs etc, with rousing cheers of; Aussie, Aussie, Aussie, followed by roars of Oi, Oi, Oi, from the ship. This continued to until we were well away from the dock.
I’m not an Oi, Oi, Oi, fan, but, this time, it did, it did cause a lump in my throat, and a bit of a tear in my eye.
I love Cobh, it is a great town, and the locals know how to make you feel welcome.
Until next time Cobh, fare thee well.
Fair weather to you all
From the Winterlesses2
Port 19 - Reykjavik (Iceland) – 30th July
We are in the artic circle, its cold, but the scenery is magnificent. It amazes me how an environ, so very foreign to your own, can strike you as so awe inspiringly Beautiful. We are in the harbour port of Reykjavik in Iceland.
It is cold, but not freezing, about 13°C, but that is better than the 5°C, we were told to expect.
It is also very windy, (actually “very windy” is a serious understatement) and it is trying to drive the cold right through us, but we are rugged up like little Eskimo’s, Hil is determined we won’t get a cold, or any other of the dreaded lurgies.
But the sun has come out, mitigating the wind, almost completely, coupled with our little walk.
Our little walk, now there is an understatement for you, we are walking to the town, most other sensible people are taking the shuttle bus, but Hil believes the 6 klm walk! along the coast, will invigorate us warm us up, and not to mention, give us a chance to take in deep breaths of fresh clean air.
The only good thing about this walk is the wind is at our back, and best of all, about 10 minutes into the walk, little miss enthusiasm is complaining about how hot it is, but short of stripping off, in a freezing wind, and a constant stream of people with the same misguided enthusiasm for a leisurely walk to the town, she is stuck with her 20 layers of clothes.
We are told, the church steeple we can see in the distance is the centre of the town, so we are flowing the coastal line, being buffeted by the wind, and keeping that jolly church steeple in sight.
We have been walking about ¾ of an hour, and that church steeple does not look any closer.
We are meeting people, coming back from the town, and were doing our usual thing of saying “Hi how was the town, how much further is it?”, but we are only getting a funny look and ignored, then one couple stop to say hello, and it became clear as to the lack of friendly replies. The couple we are talking to are from the other ship in port, the “Rotterdam” a Dutch based ship, when Hil greats them in Dutch, a sudden blossoming of friendship, as other than on the ship, they have not met someone who speaks Dutch. So, ensues an interesting three-way conversation, Dutch/Dutch, Dutch/English, and English/English, I think it made their day.
One thing we did find out, was that their trip had been struggling with a large Noro virus breakout. I took some subtle side steps up wind, at that news. We felt sorry for them, we fortunately have not had a Noro problem, on this trip, there has been the normal, odd coughing fits, mostly at the first week or so, but now very rarely, normally only at the beginning of each leg. Oh, I’m not saying, there haven’t been any, just that I haven’t seen anyone with it. So, so far so good.
But back to our walk, cold, brisk, windy, and that dam church still does not seem to be getting closer, we have been walking about an hour and a bit, and we can see the start of the town, as we get closer we have lost the sight of the church, but at last we can see the main street of the town, we are finally here, as we turn left into the main street we are greeted with a knee trembling sight. After an hour and a half walking there in front of us is a huge hill, and at the very top is that dam church, and Hil is determined to go visit, (I think that little 504 step walk down the steeple steps in Barcelona has given here a religious streak). Off we go, with Hil leading a merry pace up the Hil, a good thing is that within the town we are sheltered from the strong winds. The town is very pleasing to wander through, there is an interesting mix of modern buildings and quaint Norse style buildings. Some of stone, and others of tin and wood, and the paint jobs on the buildings is very colourful to say the least.
After another long walk we have arrived at the top, we are standing at the last line of buildings, looking across the road at a very strangely designed church building. Where the one in Barcelona, was so ugly it was beautiful, this one is arr, shall we say, umm, interesting.
It looks more like a rocket, from a Buck Rogers movie. Some may describe it as say, quaint!😒
Hil sets off, to investigate the inside, but stops to look more closely at the people around it, they seem drunk, none of them seem to be able to walk a straight line, their huddled over gripping themselves very tightly, as if in serious pain.
We take two more steps, and we are suddenly, fully aware of their problems.
The church is set on the crown of the highest hill, with no other buildings around it, just a large barren concrete forecourt, and that wind I mentioned previously, is howling across it, now this is no joke, some of the gusts, nearly sent me! Tumbling across the forecourt.
Give a thought, to the lighter people, but mostly give a lip bighting shudder, for the women with pushers, with little kids in them, who are insanely, trying to cross to the church. Fortunately, there are people springing to their aid, and helping keep them on the ground.
We have started across, as Hil is still determined to visit the inside, god knows why?
(Ahh god, umm that’s just an expression ok? No slight intended ok? I’m sure it’s a nice place inside! Please don’t blow me off the bloody hill!)
This building is not only built on the highest point in town, it also boasts, that it is the tallest building in Iceland.
Without doubt it is of a decent height, can’t remember what it was, but it’s neck creaking, to stand at the bottom and look up.
And it is a nice place inside, although it’s very minimalistic, it does have a warm friendly appearance.
In a mean streak of mischief, I have suggested we join the que, to ride the lift and visit the steeple, and then walk down the stairs.
Hil has just given me one of her stares, you know the ones, the ones women give that state very clearly, that your on very thin ice.
I guest this is not one of those “Blissfully Unawares” moments I was referring to in Barcelona, so I thought I might drop the subject.
We have returned to the town for further exploration, and it’s a sort of pleasant mix of Old, New, and Odd. The Old and new I spoke about earlier, new building are the general plain ordinary, slightly ugly buildings, you see everywhere you go. The old ones have their own unique styles, but added to, by the locals perchance to paint in very bright colours. Now the odd is that almost all of the older buildings, in the middle of the ground floor, had a spiral stair way to below, through a hole about 800 odd mm diameter. I have no idea what was down there, as it was pitch black down them. There was no barrier to stop you going down, but who would walk blindly down a dark pit, to god knows what?
(Oh, come on Hil, I would not! And no, the only thing that stopped me was not that lady watching me suspiciously!)
Finally, we have succumbed to hunger pains, and we have found a nice little shop, and as it is a fishing port, we intend to sample the local fish fare. Fortunately, most people here seem to speak English, so we have no problems with ordering, todays special is Haddock fish and chips, with a small lettuce salad on the side, we have also ordered a glass each of a dry white to go with it.
The meals & wine arrive, and we tuck in, the fish is delicious, and cooked beautifully, the chips hand cut chunky, and crispy on the outside. The wine is very nice, a very enjoyable meal all round. Feeling very content, we asked for the bill.
We have no idea, of exchange rate, but the cost of the meal works out at 10.000 ick. Now please look at that cost again. You see that dot? It turns out, that here they see the full stop as a the thousands divider, and the comer as a decimal point. Is your stomach getting a bit you know ummmm.
Well mine wasn’t, but Hil’s was, she keeps telling me, “it’s expensive here”, and I keep saying, yes, yes I know, but we’re only here once most likely, so let’s just enjoy it. I’m not too worried, back home a meal like that would cost depending where you went, between say about $15 and $25, even at the worst case, let’s say it was 2 to 3 time the cost, we would be paying maybe 50 to maybe 70 odd dollars for the meal, and yes that is expensive, but it’s a once only! so relax!
Well I have just checked my bank account; and how much do you think that meal cost us?
$50? $60? $70? Maybe even $80? dollars?
Nope….. not even $90,,,,,,,,,,,,, It cost us, are you ready for it?
ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY-TWO DOLLARS AND FORTY-SIX BLOODY CENTS!!!!!!!!!
I didn’t want to buy whole blood dam island, just some bloody fish & chips for two.
It’s a dam fishing port after all, they catch it locally, and they grow their own dam potatoes here, as well!!!
OK girls, we may have to arrange the selling a few grandkids, to pay for our lunch in Iceland, when we get back.
Before we left Brisbane, we arranged for 400 ick to take with us.
I thought that would be heaps for anything we needed here.
But I could not even buy a jolly soft drink with it.
To rub salt into the wound, they charge you for going to the toilet here, and with that bloody 400isk, we could only afford one of us to go. Talk about spending a bloody penny!!!!!
Enjoyed Iceland, I recommend if you get the chance go, Go, it is beautiful, very beautiful………
but take a cut lunch.
but take a cut lunch.
Fair weather to you all
From the Winterlesses2
Port 20 - Qaqortoq (Greenland) – 2nd August
Now when people talk about rugged beauty, I can now tell you it has a name, it’s called Qaqortoq.
This little village on the southern end of Greenland, is spectacular, the mountains that surround it, majestic in their own right, add to that radiantly blue waters, complete with stark white icebergs, then frame it with powder blue sky, and you have some of the world’s best scenic views, you can imagine. But then add into that scene, the village of Qaqortoq, with it’s multi-coloured building, and distinctive architecture, and you have one of the most amazing places, that would make any photographer, quiver with excitement.
We are walking the town, and it’s amazing, in that the town can be walked end to end in about 30 minutes, but there are cars everywhere, and they seem to be driving everywhere we look.
This place is the largest town in southern Greenland, with a population of about 3000. It is not connected to any other town, as there are no roads to connect them, but it seems every home has at least one car, and we are not talking some old clunker here, but reasonably latest models.
If you were to drive over every road here in one day, I think you would be lucky to rack up 20km.
The people are friendly. Mind you, I would be friendly too, if a couple of thousand foreigners, arrived in my town, willing to throw their money around buying very expensive trinkets.
Costs here are on par with Iceland, when converted to aud$’s.
Those isk’s I bought back in Oz, are not accepted here, as they use the Danish kroner, not the Icelandic kroner, even though Iceland is a protectorate of Denmark.
When we were on our way here they were telling us that the temperature would be around 5 to 6 deg.
I am please to say, that good lord took pity on us again, an produced a day of 13°C and bright and sunny, I am sweltering away in the three layers of underwear, plus Tee-shirt, plus heavy wool shirt, plus heavy trousers, plus jumper, and finally a Michelin man like, artic jacket, that Hil insisted I wear, because, again she did not want me to catch a cold.
Well I’m pretty sure I won’t catch a cold, but I think I may get footrot for walking around in shoes full of water, from the sweat rolling down my back and then down my legs and into my shoes!
The air is brisk and clean, and the walk has been wonderful, everywhere you look there is something, to go oww & arr about. But as with all good things you have to quit and go home, so we reluctantly headed back to the shuttle boat to return to the ship.
As with Iceland, I recommend if you get the chance come here, definitely come, it is beautiful, very, very beautiful….
but this is another take a cut lunch port.
Fair weather to you all
From the Winterlesses2
Port 21 - Nanortalik (Greenland) – 3rd August
Nanortalik is a smaller Qaqortoq with about 1500 people, when you land 2100 Pax + 400 crew, the locals can justifiably feel outnumbered by invaders from the sea.
The place is very similar to Qaqortoq, but maybe not as well maintained, and unfortunately, they seem to leave a lot of rubbish laying around.
But they to, also have a love of the motor car, even though they have even less roads. And again, they are not linked to another town by road, so they obviously have a very limited places to go to, so if you are looking for, low mileage cars I know where you can find them.
There was one interesting thing, that came up while here, it’s the way people have different concepts of things.
I went to the local tourist office, because they have free internet, or so we were told.
The conversation went something like this;
“Do you have free internet?”
“Yes we do”
“How do I connect to it?”
“ You go over to that counter, and pay $8 usd, and they will give you a log in password.”
“ um? Ah? I thought you said it was free?”
“ Oh yes it is, once you have paid the connection fee.”
“???????”
Like the day before, we walked all around the town and loved it, it is just as spectacular, and every bit a photographer’s delight. I didn’t wear my Michelin man, artic jacket, nor the two levels of the underwear, but kept the rest, as the temp dropped to 12°C today, and was a bit overcast, but still a really nice day.
We have been so lucky on this cruise, except for a slight hiccup with the weather in Cobh, we have had almost perfect weather for every port. And except for two days where the ride was a little bumpy at night with 2 or so metre seas, the seas have been almost flat, right up to now, and the forecast for the next two days to Corner Brook is more of the same.
The only issues we have had since arriving in the artic circle, is fog, and I mean real pea Souper's, they come in at early evening, seem to last all night and rise about 8am. Now fogs are not a worry to me, but those jolly icebergs lurk around in them do, we passed one yesterday that was larger than the ship, and that sets me twitching a little, especially after reading all about the Titanic in Cobh.
Hil is however, very tense about them, but I told her, not to worry, they have great navigational aids now days, and they can detect them better. Also, the ship travels a lot slower in the fogs, with quite a few crew, on watch, and a very large fog search light, as well.
So, you can go to sleep soundly, securely in the knowledge you are safe……
Oh, but if you do happen to hear a loud thud, followed by a torturous screeching noise, along the side of the ship, we should calmly put on some warm clothes, suitable shoes, grab our lifejackets, and go have a calm look, to see if anything interesting has happened.
She said, for some reason, she still didn’t sleep well that night, even after all my assurances. I can’t understand why?
We are getting ready for the sailaway, (into the fog), so will say bye-bye for now.
Fair weather to you all
From the Winterlesses2
Port 22 – Corner Brook – 6th August
It’s another bright sunny day, and we are in Corner Brook Canada, it is on the Island of the province of Newfoundland. There is snow on the peaks of the mountains, but the temperature is a comfortable 18° progressing to 23°C.
Corner Brook is famous, for its pulp paper mills, its surrounding forest beauty, and its moose. Man has brought to this marvellous wilderness, the pulp paper mills, the moose, and squirrels, and they have multiplied.
When man first came here, the town consisted of less than a hundred people, no moose, no squirrels, now, they made the pulp mill, which brought in more and more people, there are now thousands; then they brought in the moose, two pair, there are now over a hundred and fifty thousand of them; and then they brought in the squirrels, and I don’t think anyone has bothered to counted them, mainly I think, that’s because no one can count that high!
The locals have met the ship with a fleet of yellow school bus, to take us from the ship to the town centre, free of charge.
Which is really interesting, it’s the first port we have had the free buses put on for us. It is also one of the shortest walks from the ship to the town centre, about a 15-minute, easy walk. At Reykjavik it was a 90+ minute walk, in the freezing cold, with a stiff wind, and they wanted $20aud to use their local shuttle.
We have had a quick walk around the town, checked out a few shops, Hil ducked into the local chemie, for some much-needed supplies. (What are the much-needed supplies? Their things that women just can’t do without. Every male who is married knows what they are, and if you’re not married, well you will learn what they are, when you are.)
At last we are off on our primary expedition here, which is a hiking walk around what they call the Mill pond, well it’s actually a huge lake, and the walk is about 5+ km, through natural bush land, and this is natural bush, not regenerated bush, its virgin bush that’s hundreds of years old. Except where the proprietors of the Pulp Mill, have created a walking track that loosely follows the circumference of the lake, and off up along the river that feeds the “Pond” which feeds the Mill.
The walk is amazing, at almost all of the twists and turns, there is different aspects of the of the local scenery. From swamp lands, forests, rugged hillsides, a magnificent lake, and awe-inspiring rapids cascading down a boulder strewn river.
There are ducks, swans, seagulls, swimming in the lake, and in the swamps. Now about those swans, we have been advise to avoid getting to close to them, as they tend to be cranky, and sometimes attack people that get too close.
So, we are giving them a wide berth, as I don’t wish parts of me becoming swan dinner, especially as they are low to the ground, and may have a preference for certain part of the anatomy.
But also lurking in the depths of the lake is some foreboding beast, which we could never get a good glimpse of it, as it would surge, to and fro, just under the water occasionally breaching the surface, with several fin like protrusion, that would slide back below the surface, before we could get a clear view of it. Much debate was made between several people who witnessed it, including us. Some wags suggested that it could be the creature from the black lagoon, but we ruled that out, as we would have seen it’s arms as it swam, not to mention it doesn’t exist anyway. Gradually we decided it could be “Nessie” on holiday from Scotland, but then she’s got bumps not fins, so we had to rule that out too, and it could not have been a Saskatchewan, the mythical Canadian creature, as it would have had to come up for air in the time we were there.
So, what was it? that fascinated us for some time as we watched it surge back and forth in the black depths of the mill lake? Well I can tell you it had us speculating for quite some time, but the answer is…… Are you ready for this?.... We have no bloody idea. We gave up trying to figure it out, and continued our adventures along the walking track.
On the walk, there comes a time when you have to exit the bush area around the lake, as at one point there is a private resident area, for the Pulp mills most senior executive to live, so we are forced out onto the edge of the upper town limits, to go around the restricted area.
As when we came up, we got to discover the Glynmill Inn.
Now this is a majestic old-world hotel, that was originally built to house the senior management of the mill, when the mill was at its peak.
However, when the demand for pulp declined, and personnel requirements at the mill declined, it was opened as a holiday inn. It stands today just like it was, when it was exclusive for the senior managers, and it has been maintained in its original condition.
Now you’re asking, why this would have an upside? Well when you have been walking for some hours, up hills and down dales, terrified by monsters from the deep, in hot sun, and attacked by flies and mosquitoes, and warned to avoid contact with ferocious swans, and you come across a little haven of cool, with the promise of food and cold drink. I would think you would consider that an upside, wouldn’t you?
Hil has marched up to the front doors, sashayed through, and boldly asked if they served lunch. Beaming smiles later, we are sat at a lovely window seat, to sit in the coolness of this fine establishment, and watch the unfortunates trudging past in the blistering heat of a 23°C. What you say, 23°C can’t possible be considered blistering heat!
Well if you had just spent 8 months, with snow several metres deep, with temperatures down around -10°C, you too would consider 23°C wonderfully blistering hot.
The meals are beautiful, the wine excellent, and we’re contented little aussie’s, sitting back letting the food settle, and enjoying the old-world charm of this most excellent establishment. The staff are friendly, and although English is not their best language, they are going out of their way to ensure we are happy.
Now it’s not always the fact that we speak different languages, quite often, even when we speak English, we run into little reginal troubles in language. Like today, we were advised that the meal would be served with sweet beets, now as a worldly travelled fellow, I knew this to be the local name for beetroots, but Hil was not sure, so questioned the staff, “is this beetroot?”, waitress: “ah no, it is a little red vegetable, like a potato, it is cooked, and sliced and chopped, and served with your salad”. Yep beetroot.
There are lots of things like this, for instance; Footpath=Sidewalk; (smiths) potato chips=Chips, this is an interesting one, once we ordered fish & chips of the menu in Boston, and received a piece of fish with (smiths) potato chips on the side? Who has potato crisps as a side for a main meal? Well, obviously, at least Boston Yanks do! Another one that gets me is, on the ship, to cater for our American chums, at breakfast they put out “Biscuits & gravy”, well, in reality, their biscuits are plain scones, and the gravy is a thick yellowy substance.
Oh, and what we call biscuits they call cookies.
Isn’t it interesting, that so many places in the world, who supposedly speak English, but all speak a different English to each other!
We have made our way back down onto the walking track, and we are now on our homeward stretch. Wearily we trudge back up into the town, and it is now when we really appreciate, those little yellow school buses, as I don’t think we could have made that last 15-minute walk to the ship.
I think, somewhere along the way, we got a little confused, on our walk, and instead of the short walk, I think we diverted onto the 10k medium one.
As the short one was supposed to take about an hour, well not including our short dally at the inn, we walked for about 2.5 hours.
But it was fun, and oh by the way, we have been thinking about the monster that lurked in the lake, after much discussion we think we have identified the monster. Do you wish to know what we think it was?
Of coarse you do!
Well we think it may have been some form of plant, similar to seaweed, that was surging back and forth with the flow of current. But we could be wrong, and there could be some kind of monster lurking in there.
There is one thing I am sure of though, and that is, that I have no intension of swimming in that dam lake!
Fair weather to you all
From the Winterlesses2
Port 23 – Saguenay – 8th August
The city of Saguenay, is in my opinion a bit of a stretch of the imagination, it is in fact made up of three towns and one small community, that are remote from each other by at least a 10 to 15-minute drive to each.
The port we are docked at is Saguenay “La Baie” (the port area), a short drive south of La Baie, is the community of “La Baie Fjord museum area”, about 15-minutes’ drive west, you come to the town of Saguenay “Chicoutimi” (the Downtown & Cultural area), and then another 15-minute drive further out, gets you to Saguenay “Jonquiere” (Arvida/Company Town). Anywhere else they would be satellite towns of a council, not a city. But to the locals they are definitely a city, I found this out, when I laid out a map and had casually asked, what was the best way to get to this little town over here! I was quickly informed that is was not a town but Downtown Area of Saguenay.
By the way how are you going with the pronunciations of the names?
Saguenay = Sag-un-nay, that was easy hay.
Baie = bail, not to hard either.
Chicoutimi = Chicky-cum-te-me. When I said it to Hil, she glared at me and said, don’t call me chickee, and no I won’t come to you!
These language things can be tricky some times.
We never got to Jonquiere, so did not find out how that’s pronounced. You will have to do your own research on that one.
We have opted for the Hop On-Hop Off Bus for this port, mainly as it was the cheapest way to get to Chicoutimi, as Hil wishes to see a special house, but more about that later.
There are two bus routes, Orange and pink, we are of on the orange for the first ride, it takes us to Fjord Museum to start our expedition into the local area.
It is a small town, its main attractions are the glass blowing factory, and the Fjord museum.
The museum features several sections, an aquarium area with a touch pool, a museum of early life in Saguenay, and a historic history of the Quebec area of Canada.
Now it was that historic history that got me, they spent some time saying how proud they are of their French origins, and how the French first settle the area, and that they had to fight of the English several times to stop them claiming the area for Britain.
But unfortunately, the English prevailed, and France conceded the area to Britain, and the British & French colonies combined to be Canada, and now they are proud French Canadians. Note the “French” bit, not Canadians but French first, and so proud of their French ancestry, they still speak French, and only begrudgingly speak English, but only where absolutely required. Ie: with tourists.
But in reading their history, I came across this little titbit.
They are proud loyal Frenchmen, but when during the WWII, when the government started conscription, to send men to free France, from the hated German invaders, two little loop holes where discovered.
First, if you had just been married, then you would be exempt from the call up.
That year French weddings quadrupled!
Secondly, if someone was out in the wilderness when their call up came, and could not be contacted, they would be exempt from complying.
That year the wilderness camping supplies sold out totally.
It seems they are very proud of their French heritage, but not enough to go fight for them.
Well it’s time to hop back on our hop off, and head back to the port, to swap bus routes.
This time our route takes us to the “suburb” of downtown Chicoutimi, and to Hil’s excitement, the “Musee Du La Pulperie”, which is French for the Pulp Museum. Now why would Hil be interested in a museum for the pulp paper industry? Because, the only thing in the museum, that was related to the pulp mill is the building itself, and some foundations left over from some processing plant machinery. The rest of the pulp mill stuff is around the outside of the building.
But the reason we have come here is Hil has a great desire to see the home of one of Quebec’s greatest painters, Hil has read about his house and evidently, he painted his house, inside and outside, as if it was a giant canvas.
Hil has asked to be dropped at the site with the house painted by the artist, says yes she will tell Hil when we get to the site, finally we are told we are there, we exit the bus, only to find the only building we can see is the museum building, back to the bus, only to be told yes the house is part of the pulp museum displays?
So, we start forth, but no house either side, so go inside and ask at desk, she says yes it is here it is at the back.
We ask should we go around the right side or the left? She indicates the right side so we start to leave, but she stops us and asks didn’t we wish to see it! Yes we were just heading out and around the side? She says no its inside down the back, you need to pay $16can each, so pay and head to the back and sure enough, they have transported a whole two-story cottage into the building.
The house is famous, as the artist, a poor barber, was so poor that he could not afford canvas or even paper to paint on, so he used his house as a canvas. He literally painted every surface inside the house, walls, doors, ceilings, archatraves, window frames, cabinets, kitchen cupboards, and when he ran out of surface to paint, he started on the outside. The house now is a treasured piece artwork and history.
His name is Arthur Villeneuve, and below is some photos of the house, and some of his art work.
Now when we walked in, the first impressions were, was this guy on drugs??? God don’t say we have come all this way for another, Peggy G!
But as we moved around and started to absorb, the artist works, not just the house, but his other work as well.
We both had to re-evaluate our thoughts, his work is unusual to say the least, but it does have a something about it, and has a sense of life and purpose. Each of his works tell a story, in his unique style. The more I seen the more I started to appreciate his distinctive talent.
It would not be the style of artwork I would buy for my home, but I believe he was definitely gifted.
Unlike most abstract artist, were you need them to tell you what your looking at, with Arthur V, it is clear he is telling a story, and all you need is to be led through it.
Visiting his home was one of the high lights, of this trip.
The rest of the exhibits was mostly, about the Tin Tin comics, and they seemed to take up most of the floor space in the museum.
I must admit I was a bit of a totally ignorant person, as to the history of Tin Tin, and lacked the interest, to find out why they had a huge part of the museum here, dedicated to him, and his connection to Saguenay.
Hil seem to have even less interest, so we only just browsed though, could not see why they dedicated over half the museum to him.
At the time we visited there was a bus load or two, of school kids in the building, every single one of them was in the Tin Tin exhibition. There was not one single kid, in the artists exhibition……. I guess that say’s it all, for the good or worst, about the younger generation. Can’t blame them really, at that age give me a comic any day.
Well it’s back on our bus, and back to the ship, we have only touched the surface of Saguenay, the people are friendly, and the place is a picture postcard place, an yeah, would come here again.
Fair weather to you all
From the Winterlesses2
Port 24 – Quebec – 9th August
Quebec City is one of those places that isn’t what you think it will be.
I had expected a typical sprawling concrete jungle, Boston; Sydney; whatever. But it is a warm inviting cosmopolitan urbanity of people. This is going to sound conflicting, but they seem to have a mix of a strong sense of who they are, while at the same time a sense of not sure who they are.
They are very proud of their French origins, while still proud to be part of the British Commonwealth, and the English heritage that has also been a large part of the development of the city.
Quebec City is divided to a large extent into the Lower and Upper towns.
The lower section is the original part and was developed as a French trading post, which survived numerous attacks to take it over by various other powers, including the English, Spanish, and American colonials, some were successful for a while but the tenacious French always wrestled it back, until the British finally took it and France relinquished ownership. Well the British may well have got France to say it was British, but the locals are still not too sure about that. The lower town is built hard up against a vertical rock cliff face, of some 40 or 50 metres, and sprawled out along the river, and probably 10% of the city is reclaimed from the river, but every so often, the river claims a heap of it back just to let them know it still considers it is still river land.
Well after a while, and the contentious part of who owned them was settled, well sort off anyway.
Someone evidently said, “I wonder what’s up there”, so they built a timber stairway up to the top.
Where they promptly started building the upper town. Now this always interests me with people, they build a town to live in at the base of a hill, and then build the pubs at the top of the hill??? Now those stairs I mention earlier was the only way up, and, DOWN! Now they gave those stairs a name! and it does not take much thought as to why, they named them the “Break Neck Stairs”, but I will give you a clue, Home is at the bottom-Pub is at the top-late night going home-numerous beers under the belt!!!!!
Well the stairs are still there, but these days their made of stone and steel.
I have walked those stairs, stone cold sober, and they are still the, “Break Neck Stairs”, especially on a wet rainy day, which it was the day we walked them.
It started to rain just before we reached the stairs to get back to the lower city, it poured down, all the way down. We went in search of a nice restaurant for lunch, BUT, as it just happened to be lunch time and it was pouring, surprise, surprise every dam place was packed full.
As we trudged along in the rain, we came across, a little doorway with a beer sign, so thought we would see if we could squeeze in for a wine while we waited for the rain to stop. Well walking through that little door was like travelling to another place, it was dark, it was warm, it looked like a dungeon, and most spectacular of all, was, It Was Nearly Empty. Not only was there plenty of empty tables, the publican did pub lunches.
What’s that you say! Big deal! Well this place complete would fit in my kitchen, and the bar took up a quarter of the place. He was serving the bar AND cooking the meals there at the bar as well! Bet you don’t see that often!
As you would expect, for a pub that size the menu was not extensive, just pizza’s & Nacho’s, basically.
But it was food, it was shelter, it was warm, and there was wine, what more could you ask for……..
Aww come on Hil, the pizzas weren’t that bad.
In all Canadian ports we have been in so far, I have checked out the cost of maple syrup. Now maple syrup, is a long time weakness of mine, when I was a kid, I just loved the stories of the Canadian woods, the Royal Mounted Police (The Mounties), but most off all the stories of kids going to a tree, and draining some maple sap out, taking it to the ice, poring it onto the ice, and hey presto, maple toffee.
Well we are here, and I plan to take real maple syrup home with me, BUT the price they are charging in the shops here is nearly double that at home. Now I don’t know if what we get in Australia is tampered with! But I’m not willing to pay $14 to $18 for 250ml to find out.
So, I have had to forgo, my great lust to taste real maple syrup. That is until now! We are of on a Princess tour, to the Sugar Shack, a restaurant up in the maple tree forest, north of the city, about an hour’s drive out from the ship.
It is attached to the factory that actually processes the stuff.
So, we are not only going to get to taste the real stuff, but to enjoy a full evening meal, where it is used in every course, and I mean in every course, the pea soup, the baked beans, roast potatoes, beans, beef stew, mince pie, roast chicken, and finally apple crumble. Maple syrup was used on every single thing, well you were encouraged too at least, but there were some wimps, that chickened out, but not yours truly, I had it on everything…….
Now would I have it on everything at home????? Nar, it would be over doing it then, but for one night it was fun.
The night was a fun night, we had food, and music, real up in the mountain type hoedown foot stamping music.
It was a great fun night, but the surprise of the night was that, we would be taken out to the cellar door, and treated to……. Real fresh syrup, dribbled onto the snow, and then we could use a little wooden stick to pick it up, and eat it like toffee……. Whacko, my childhood dream come true…. I was so excited, Hil had to settle me down.
Out we went, and I watched them wide eyed, as they dribbled it onto the snow, and grabbed my stick, dipped it in, and into the mouth it went….. Was it nice? Yep, you bet cha, it was every bit as nice as I had hoped, a dream come true at last……….. BUT …….. be careful, if you have a denture plate, even a part one like mine….. that bloody stuff is right royally sticky…… and it’s very difficult to talk with the plate stuck sideways in the mouth!!!!
As I’m heading out of the cellar door, I checked the price of their bottles, and joy, the price of a 500ml bottle is $16, not real cheap, but cheaper enough to buy a bottle to bring home.
What is my final impression of Quebec City? Beautiful, a delight to visit, the people are great, the history is colourful, and well told by the locals, some stories have interesting twists at the end, for example:
It is a walled city, and the locals are very proud that, they have the only walled city in the north America. They explain when and why it was built, and how it served to protect the early city. They tell you proudly, how the wall is now protected by a world heritage listing, so it will remain for future generations… but then tell you sadly, it is so built up around the internal side, that you can’t see it, and that you have to go outside the city to see the actual wall!😕
Fair weather to you all
From the Winterlesses2
Port 25 – Halifax – 12th August
What a pleasant surprise docking here is, the terminal probably the best we have experience, disembarking is very smooth, and the terminal would have the most extensive types of market stalls in it.
Not just the normal touristy rubbish you normally get, it is there but it is out numbered by a better quality touristy stuff, plus a good selection of clothes, quality goods, food stalls, an extensive museum of local history, and a good visitor info centre, with staff to guide you on what to do, while in port.
Our option was to visit the local shopping mall, as Hil was in urgent need of some white acrylic artist paint.
So, with advice from the ladies at the booth, we started off to the other end of town, along the new boardwalk.
The board walk is very modern with sections, divided into different sections to give a variety off rooms so to speak.
For instance, one section was dedicated for those wishing to take part in spin bike classes. These classes appear to be very popular, with the ones we watched having around 40 or so people in them, mostly of the young and fit.
Can I tell you it is, lets say an attraction, there seem to be a lot of interested people watching, (mostly males), as the riders (most young females) with bottoms up peddled madly. And that’s all I will say about that…
In another area, there are a couple of girls performing Scottish dancing, which I initially thought was a bit of international cross culture, which is always good to see.
Then as I was talking to some fellow passengers, I was informed that the Island is called Nova Scotia, then when they could see the blank look on my face, said “Nova Scotia”.. it means “New Scotland”, that’s why they were selling all that Scottish paraphernalia at the Cruise Terminal.
Well ok, the penny dropped, and I’m suitably embarrassed.
But why in the world could they not, just spell it the right way in the first place? We passed New Brunswick, Newfoundland, and we are going to New York, and no one, found it necessary to give them a fancy spelling, now did they! I’m a simple guy, I just call things what they are, a mongrel is a mongrel, not a boutique breed.
Part of the boardwalk is still under construction, so they have temporarily installed a floating boardwalk around it.
Well may I say! that was an experience!! We had the roughest sea weather on that boardwalk, than any I have experienced, in all the cruises we have been on, and we were in fact, technically on land!! There were times there I had to hold on for dear life, it was really bouncing around, and not I might add, without a little help from time to time, from passing water craft.
You can imagine those on board those passing boats, can’t you? Going “Yay that was fun, lets go back and do it again”.
Shamefully. However I must admit, I probably would have too!
Well we have walk some distance, and have headed up town proper, I don’t say “up”, loosely, by the way, it’s a fairly stiff rise from the water front to the main street. Another couple of blocks, and we have finally reached the shopping mall.
Eagerly with bright excited eyes, Hil enters the Mall. However, that excited gleam dims very rapidly, the shopping centre is closed, nothing! is open.
Would you believe, they close the main shopping centres on Sundays here. How totally uncivilised is that!!!
We cruised around for a while, (on our feet), looking for any signs of life, but alas the business district is a desolation of closed shops.
Dejected, shoulders slumped, Hil heads back down to the sea front, for a local lunch.
But, it is very, very hot, and it is 12 midday, and every local within 100 miles seems to be here, plus the 2000 odd people off the ship.
So, I’ll let you guess our chances of finding a single chair that is not directly in the scorching sun.
We have walked for miles, it is melting hot, and we are dragging our sorry buts back to the ship, past that bobbing boardwalk, past the bobbing bottoms, and on home to our bobbing little home at the wharf, to airconditioned comfort in the Horizon court buffet. Ahh, off our feet at last, cold drink and meal in front of us. Blisssss.
Are we going back out after lunch?
Nar, to bloody hot, and also there is the Crooners lounge, down stairs, calling tantalisingly for us, can’t you hear it?
That soft seductive………Sttrawberyyyy Daiquirieeee.
I reckon, that Halifax would be a marvellous place to visit, it has a lot to offer, just not on a Sunday.
To quote an old movie title, “Never On A Sunday”.
Fair weather to you all
From the Winterlesses2
Port 26 – New York – 14th & 15th August
We have been lucky, we are parked next to the Intrepid in Manhattan Island again. This is a great place to access NY from, it is close to almost anywhere you would like to visit here. The other docking port area is Brooklyn, and although it too, may be a nice place to dock, it is a bloody long way from the things we want to see.
We are off to see the newly renovated and expanded Times Square. Then for a walk around the shopping district, in search of the white acrylic paint again, we have been looking for it since Southampton. We have not had any good luck with our desire to purchase, we are either to late and the shops are closed, it’s a Sunday and the shops are closed, or the shop is a 30-minute taxi ride to get to it, or they don’t have one in their town, but were in the Big Apple, their must be one here.
We set off, and walk to the square, it is at least 7 or 8 times larger, they have cut of the Broadway side, and the square now extends all the way to the shops on the Broadway side, also they have closed of the top street and extended it down to the next street down, it’s quite a pleasant square now, well it would be IMHO, if they got rid of the garish video bill boards, that rise up several floors all around it.
But that’s unlikely to happen, as the local civil authorities has ruled that they must stay, and if anyone buys a building, it is illegal to remove them. It seems some people love ugly, or the council is making big bucks in licences to operate them. I reckon I know what it is! But I will let you, to come to your own conclusions.
Now with the enlarged square, we now have lots of buskers/street performers.
Batman, Mini Mouse, Cat Woman, and other characters, have set up camp there. And your supposed to pay them, if you take photos of them. So your supposed to ask them, how much first, then you sidle up, for you photo.
All not to bad, but I was not keen to be photo’d next to the singing naked cowboy! Well actually he was wearing a tiny pair of skin tight underwear, so he was not technically naked. And Hil was not overly keen on me being photo’d with the girl in the bikini, especially when she realised it was painted on, not quite sure why she wasn’t.
Hil seem keen to move on, so we headed around the streets and avenues, to some art shops we had earmarked.
Plenty of art, but no art supplies, I’m pretty sure most of them, were not even sure what art supplies are, from the blank looks they gave up. We ended up walking down, Madison Avenue, and then up Park Avenue, then we found out almost all of the art supply shops are down the bottom of NY, just near “Brooklyn” would you believe!
As they would say in the US of A “Shucks”.
(Well I was thinking of something a little more graphic, but in case the grandkids read this, shucks will have to do).
We have been walking for hours & miles, so decided to stop at a little restaurant that catches’ Hil’s eye, “Moonstruck” very NYish, inside it is everything you would imagine a NY restaurant would be, complete with chirpy waitresses.
We gave our order, which were called into a microphone. A little later we had very nice “but huge” meals place in front of us, why is it in America that they seem to think, the average person consumes, half a cow, and a field of potatoes at each meal?
After Hil and I had waded through our meals, Hil with her stomach bulging, she could not help herself, she just had to order a real NY baked cheesecake.
It dually arrived, it was a huge piece, and I kid you not! it was about 70mm wide x 200mm long x 80mm high, enough to feed at least 4 people well.
But the look she gave it, when it was set in front of her! I’m just glad my arm was not in the way!
Hil has been dreaming of this moment for four years, she has not stopped talking about it since we boarded in Brisbane, and she was definitely going to enjoy every little bit of it!
Ooh, the look she gave, after that first bight!!
Now before I say this, I am not making any comparisons with dogs & cats and Hil, OK!
Other than, for the metaphor of a blissful look.
Now you know that look a dog gets, when you scratch it at a certain spot, and its back knees buckle, or when you scratch a cat’s belly in just the right spot, and get that deep throated purrrrr, or what you feel when someone scratches, that really persistent itchy spot you just can’t reach? Yep that’s the look!
But no matter of her desire, to consume that NY size of cake, it just could not be crammed into an already full tummy. So obviously, yours truly is forced into helping her out, (and yes, I mean forced, I’m not a fan of baked cheese cake), but I too, was a victim of the American tendency, of being over fed, so two very pregnant looking individuals, waddled out of that restaurant.
It’s a great restaurant, and if you’re in NY, definitely go there if you want a true NY style meal.
Just before we left Moonstruck, we found out there are two art supply places not far from Macy’s.
Well Hil’s eyes lit up at the mention of Macy’s, so we are making for there first, and then on to the art supply shops.
I was a bit disappointed with Macy’s, I thought they would be more like a Myers, but they were not a medium-priced shop, but quite expensive it seemed to me. In fact, we did not stay there as long as I had feared we would, so I was a happy little beaver as we left. UNTIL.
It was pouring outside, really bucketing down. Fortunately, we always have our wet weather gear with us, so I kit up.
I’m fully covered, rucksack fully covered, camera covered, ready to venture out.
Ahh, but Hil, has a problem, her coat would fit her perfectly, if she was not trying to wear it around the bag she is carrying with her, and the bag is not weather proof.
The choice is:- dry bag or dry Hil.
The bag wins out, too many things inside, that would get wet as well.
So, we set off, me strolling nonchalantly, rain pelting down all around us, Hil hunched over protecting said bag. Water pelting down a neck, running down a back, and one of us is drenched, again.
You know those art supply shops? I think they were the last thing on her mind. Weather looked set in, so the decision was to walk the last four blocks north, and the last six blocks west (they are not small blocks!).
Well 1 block Nth + 2 blocks West, we have one very wet bunny, and not a happy one either!
One block after that, and guess what?
Squelch, Squelch, Squelch through the ship, up into our cabin, and a hot shower later, a change of clothes, and I have moderately happier little bunny, not without a few mumbles about, that the weather had better be better tomorrow, for our second day in NY. I hope so to, life is so much easier when your little bunny is happy.
Day 2 is a shorter day, must be back on the ship by 2:30pm, one of us is not keen on another long walk, so decide to do the circle NY ferry cruise. It leaves from a wharf, a couple of hundred metres up from where we are berthed.
So no long walk involved.
So, off we troop, and as with most ports, a fifty-metre trip ship to the port gate takes about 550 or more metres to walk.
(Why they can’t do it in a straight line still escapes me).
A quick left turn at the gate, and we head north to the ferry wharf, we’re told is about 300 metres away, after what must have been about 800 metres, we come to an extensive river park, we walk some way in, but there is no sign of our ferry wharf.
There is some mumbling next to me, about I told you we were supposed to turn right at the gate!
But dear, I checked the map at home and I’m sure it was to the left!
But! But! Oh ok, we will go back and try the right dear, but I’m sure it was the left, if we walk all the way back there and I’m right, we will have to come back all this way again!!
Yes dear, the right, (deep sigh) yes dear.
We have travelled all the way back the port gate, and 300 metres past it, and one of us has a very smug look on their face, and it is not me……..
Yes dear, that dock does look like a ferry terminal, and the sign does say “Circle Line”, and yes dear, I will listen next time, and yes dear, you did say you did not want a long walk today……..😔
We have bought our tickets, and because we were late getting here! we have to wait for the next cruise…..
Not a word is said…….. but that look! didn’t need any words, all the most pertinent ones were in the look.
Our ferry is loaded it’s 11am and we’re off for a 2½ hour cruise around Manhattan Island. This is the only ferry that does the full round trip, well it normally would have, but all that rain yesterday, has evidently made it unsafe for the ferry to do it, but they will take us most of the way, and then they will backtrack and bring us back again. We are not to worry, as we will see most of it, but we may be a little late getting back.
Umm, that’s fine, except we’re leaving at 11am 2.5 hours is 1:30pm, we have to be on the boat by 2:30pm, being a little late could be cutting it a bit fine. Looking sideways I’m getting that look again!!!
The cruise was excellent, very informative, including a fairly close up cruise around the statue, you know the one, with the lady in green holding up a burning stick.
I don’t know if I mentioned this before but, evidently Eiffel did not originally make the Statue of Liberty for the united states, he had originally intended it for the port of “Port Said” to commemorate the opening of the Suez Canal.
But the Egyptian government said nup, don’t need it or want it. So, the French then offered it the Americans to celebrate their biennial, if they paid to build the base and erect it, and the rest of course is history.
All I can say about the cruise is that, it is very informative, and one of the best ways to see the skyline of NY, with out flying around in a helicopter.
The ferry arrived back at the pier, we hustled ourselves back to the ship, and reported in with about a half hour to spare. It was a good day, and it didn’t rain at all. There was, however some comments about it being hot, but at least she wasn’t drenched again.
The only downer for NY was, we still have not been able to get Hil’s white paint.
Fair weather to you all
From the Winterlesses2
Port 27 – Charleston – 17th August
Charleston is definitely “Gone With The wind”, the elegant homes, and buildings, just ooze that southern style stuff from the movie, it would have to be one of the prettiest cities I have seen. I’m not comparing it with towns that have beautiful hills and such around it, but as a city where you walk amongst buildings. You can almost see, what it would have been like during the years, before the civil war. Everywhere you walk it is a very pretty city.
We are on a hunt for Hilary’s white paint, all other things have been set aside, and we have high hopes, nothing is going to distract us! Nothing! We have started hunting south along the art gallery trail, we are several blocks down, when we find a gallery where the manager is an artist herself, and bingo she knows exactly where an excellent arts supply shop is! Yay, this is good news, except, it is in the other direction, we have to go to the other end of the city about 20 blocks.
A very chirpy Hil heads of to the north, with a spring in her step, and nothing is going to distract her.
We are walking up the left side of the street, but Hil see’s there is more shade on the other side of the street. So, we cross over.
This was to be fatal decision for her.
As we walk up the street, Hil is hijacked into beauty salon by a smooth talking southerner.
You know that southern drawl, “why ma’am, you look just beautiful, just step this way”, first offering her a free sachet of special cream for her feet, and before you can whistle Dixie, she is talked into entering, and trying a cream to smooth her out.
Now I don’t believe she needs anything, to make her more beautiful, but off she goes, and there I mark time on the hot sidewalk (that’s what yanks call footpaths) for about half an hour or so.
Arr, I ask you, what happened to NOT being distracted????
Eventually, she emerges all smiles and asks me, do I see a difference! First off, how do you improve perfection? Secondly, she doesn’t tell me what I’m supposed to look for exactly.
Women do this, I think it is a means, to test us men, on our attention to them, and I know, no matter what ever I say, I’m most likely going to get it wrong, so I stand there for several seconds, as my mind races through all options, and then it hits me!
Darling I don’t know what he has done, but there is a glow about you! You look beautiful!
Good A?
No! To wit, the answer to that suddenly, pops up in my mind, “SO, I was not beautiful before”?????
Mind immediately scraps that answer, and before I could control it, my mouth takes over and actually says,
“arr what am I looking for”?
Mind immediately chastises mouth for not waiting for better direction, and I stand their hoping, that I’m not in too deep, but, when she says, it is supposed to smooth my wrinkles. Mind screams with joy, it has the perfect answer……
“Wrinkles? What wrinkles? Your beautiful as you are!”
I think I may have got a couple of bickie points for that one. Not sure, but she seemed happy enough anyway.
We’re back on track of the allusive white paint, we were told to go all the way to the other end of the street, about a 20 to 30-minute walk, and the art shop is near the corner with the park.
So, we are now at the end of about a 45-minute walk, (not including the highjacked time out, for non-existing wrinkles). We have reached the corner, we can not see any art shop, we wander across the road to the park to see if it’s on the other side, it’s not.
Hil asks a passing lady, if she knows where it is, I’m thinking “yeah like every one is interested in art and knows where an art supplies shop is”.
Lady says “Oh yes, it is back there just near the Cuban restaurant, down the street to the left a little, it is a bit difficult to see, but its there.
Well there you go, put back in my box again.
Sure enough, we backtrack a little, and go to the left, and there it is.
Not only is it an art supplies shop, it’s probably the biggest most comprehensive one I’ve seen. Hils eyes have lit up, and she is smiling happily, the search is over, and the guy serving inside is a wealth of information on paints.
We leave there, with a bundle of little treasures, and can now relax and enjoy the excitement of Charleston.
Hil and I start to backtrack back to the other end of town, because that is the end with all the Art Galleries.
Now what surprises me is, why would you have your art supplies shops, the opposite end of a city to the art galleries end? I would have thought they would have gone together!
But alas they don’t, and we are in for more walking.
On the way back, we stopped for a Greek lunch, Hil a Greek salad, and me a Greek burger, had to find out what a Greek one would be. It turns out they use tzatziki in their burgers. Very nice, but again huge. Oh, the other thing they used is sweet potato chips, surprisingly good. Hil on the other hand was not sure about her Greek salad, at first, she could not find the olives, but later found them under everything else, secondly, she was surprised to find large round chilli’s in it, but she ate them, and evidently, they were very nice.
After our long walks, I am parched beyond belief, so I asked for a diet coke, out comes this huge glass full, as I was very thirsty, it did not take long to polish off, I blinked and there was another, I thought a bit cheeky, but ok, I’m still a little thirsty, so say nothing, during the course of the meal I finish it, Blink and there is another, but she’s gone before I can say something.
As were sitting there letting our meal digest, I think, oh well its there may as well sip on it, Hil decides to have a baclava sweet, so time drags on, drink is finished, and Blink, another is there, now I’m getting a little peeved at this, thinking it’s a bit cheeky, I’m not asking for them, and they keep slipping them in, good way to drive the bill up, it’s not just the cost of the drink, there is tax on top of that, and 15% to 20% tip on top of that, I’m mumbling grumpy thoughts under my breath.
Hil finish’s up, I call for the bill and intend to have a few words about the underhanded methods to run peoples bills up. But there is no charge for the coke’s, ask girl what about the coke’s, she says, oh the cokes are included in the meal. Huh! Well there you go, I feel guilty for all the mean things I was thinking.
Lunch is over, and we’re on our way again.
If you’re into art, Charleston is a place to go, it would have to be, one of the most art gallery hubs in the world.
Even Hil’s eyes started to glaze over after a while. They are all, extensive, well laid out, and the gallery people very friendly and talkative.
They have all types of art, modern and traditional, and whatever’s in between, I’m not as you will have gathered from previous posts, much into modern art, but must admit, some of it was very pleasing to the eyes, and most of the traditional artist were quite outstanding.
Feet are telling us, it’s time to head home, we have walked for miles, and the sun is peaking the hottest part of the day, so really looking forward to a Tropical Blend.
It is a very nice environment here, and we both enjoyed Charleston very much, and yes I would definitely come here again. But for now, it’s bye from us.
Fair weather to you all
From the Winterlesses2
Port 28 – Miami – 19th August
Now, I must say, in the beginning this was not a port, I was particularly interested in coming to.
Everything I could find about it was about the beach, and the beautiful people who frequented it. Mostly by skates, but also on bikes, or running with dogs.
It seemed to me, as we have absolutely no interest in the beach scene, this was going to be a dead place to be.
But then, I saw that the Everglade were close by, my interest pricked up, and before I knew it, I was organising a tour of the glades, for six people, which then turned into a full day tour for 52 people exploring Miami and the Everglades.
And yes, the tour included a stopover, to see that famous strip of Miami, you see in most films shot there.
Yes, it is beautiful in its own way, great beach, great surf, good looking people, and all that boring stuff.
But I felt sorry for the down and out people that live there. Some of them could not afford any proper clothes at all, and were left to wearing, tiny little patches of cloth, held on with little bits of string.
Thank god it’s generally warm there or they would freeze.
They’re a strange lot here, would you believe they have a special tourist route, to take people around to see their graffitied walls. Can you imagine that! People actually pay to see walls that vandals have defaced with spray cans, and then have the audacity to wax eloquent of the different techniques they use.
See for yourself: below is some of this so called street art.
Disgraceful isn’t it, and there were walls and walls like this, the last one above, was on a wall, about 40 or so metres long and about 10 metres high.
Now I ask you how could they do that to a beautiful dirty grey concrete wall?
We spent some time here, but the one that got me was the one for Weetabix and what it will do to little Weetabix kids, see below. Kath I think you should think twice about, what you feed Georgia!
Well in actual fact, the art work as you can see was exceptionally good, and it was genuine street graffiti art, the stipulation the people who did it were given, was no tags, must be truly artistic, then they are given a wall, and away they went. Oh, that our vandals could take a leaf out of their book.
Could have spent more time in the area, but we were on a schedule, so off we went to Little Cuba,
An interesting part of Miami, there is a huge population of Cubans in Miami, and most of them live in little Cuba.
I don’t doubt, the claim that it thrives to the Cuban beat, the locals seem happy, and there seemed to be quite few Cuban bands in or around the restaurants here.
We stopped here for lunch, our guide encouraged us to try a typical Cuban sandwich, but advise us to order one per couple, as they are big. Yeah well what’s new about that in America.
But good lord they were big! Even between two of us it was a big meal. It is full of lamb, chicken, salads, cheeses, and sauces, wedged in between a Cuban bread bun, about 500mm long. Subway you have a long way to catch up.
After Little Cuba, we headed out towards the Everglades.
Now all day it has been melting hot, not a cloud in the sky, but on the way out, (it is only a 45-minute drive), it started to pour, and I mean really pour, torrential type. Now earlier that would not matter, a lot of the morning we were in the bus, but we are heading to the Everglade’s for an airboat ride, that is a boat with and aeroplane propeller engine strapped to it, to drive you over the swamp grasses. Not the ideal place to be in torrential rain!
This was the main point of this whole tour, so the whole bus is in a bit of a downer. The driver continues on, hoping things may settle down, and that we get a break in the weather.
Dam glad he did, less than five minutes before we arrive, god turned the valve off, and it stopped just like that…
An excited little bunch, bundled out of the bus, all eager for the boat ride. These airboats are surprisingly larger that I thought, they each have not one but two engines, driving two very large propellers.
I’m sure you have seen movies of the smaller boats, gliding about the Everglades on the TV and in movies, well these things may not be as fast, but believe me they are noisy, very noisy. They do get up to a plane over the water, but as the purpose is to hopefully to observe the local wild life, they take it a little less exhilaratingly.
Fortunately, it’s not long and we see our first gator, as they call them here.
The curious little bugger, comes swimming over, and the guide explains, that holding your arm out, that the gator assumes that as a free feed is being offered, so its not a good thing to do. He also tells us that they’re not allowed to feed them anymore, as it is illegal, and you could be fined for doing so.
Some wit in the boat asked, if you put hand like that, and the gator takes it off, would that be considered technically, as feeding the gator, and would they prosecute them? Not saying who!
Over the course of, the little over an hour we were on the boat, we only got to see three alligators, about four type of birds, and acres of swamp grass. But it was a great ride, and we headed back in, and just as we had docked, another one sidles up to the jetty area. These things don’t seem to have any fear of people, I suppose when you have hundreds of look-en-peepers, trawling through your home, several times a day, you get used to them.
After the boat ride we’re going to see a demonstration by the “Gator Boy’s”, their supposed to be the Steve Erwin’s of the USA.
We are led into a compound with a pond in it, and we can see six Alligators in it, plus two on the ground next to the pond, and one of the biggest men I have seen, standing to the side with a thin stick in his hand.
When the show starts, he casually strolls into the centre of the gators, and starts to tell us about the gators, and how he and his friend are trying to protect the gators, by relocating the troublesome ones to a safer place, safer for people mostly that is, but also for them, as they are killed if they are not moved.
He then goes on to tell us all about the gator boys and their crusade to protect the gators, and how they have developed a method to humanly capture them and relocate.
He then tells us he will demonstrate their capture technique, then proceeds to wander into the water with the Alligators, all of them at least 1.5 to 2 metres long!
He sidles up near to one, grabs its tail, and pulls it towards him, then proceeds to straddle it, and sit on it!
He’s sitting there holding its head on either side, and the gator does not look happy about it at all.
He goes on to tell us, they quite often have to go out on their own to capture and relocate a gator, so he proceeds to tell us, how they have developed a method to hold the jaws closed, while they duct tape it closed.
Then proceeds to demonstrate the method. This involves him, pulling the gators head back and tucking the jaws under his chin, and then holding it with his chin and the top of his chest, then releasing his hands and holds it there, to demonstrate how secure it is!!!!
All I can say is, that they (the gators) must be a more docile type of animal, than our croc’s. I can guarantee you, he would not walk into a pool of our croc’s back in aussie, let alone sit on one, and god forbid what would happen, if he tried to hold the bastard still under his bloody chin.
He then tells us, that some times it does not go to plan, and holds up a hand missing part of a thumb!!
These Americans are crazy!!!!
The Miami experience has turned out to be quite an amazing place, much better than I originally feared.
All in all, a great trip.
Fair weather to you all
From the Winterlesses2
Port 29 – Key West – 20th August
KEY WEST… In one word?? hmmm, yes I think you could describe it in one word…..
A Tackyfunclassiehotinterestinglyyankycuboncaribbeaninee sort of place.
Yep; that would definitely describe it…..
Sort of worries you a little on arrival but……,
when the first sign you see outside a pub, that says “Clothes Optional”…..
I was going to peek in, but I was getting one of those female looks, that says “Go ahead”, and you dam well know, if you do, you’re going to be in it up to your neck.
Evidently one place here, used to be considered so very, very rough an establishment, so rough in fact, about fifty odd years ago, they had to put security guards outside, to ask customer’s if they were carrying weapons, before they were allowed in……. If they answered no, then they would be issue a long sharp knife, so they had a chance of survival.
The houses and building here are amazing, they have quite a few different styles, from all the different cultures that have made home here, all of them beautiful in their own unique interesting styles.
Some even built by ships carpenters, who built using shipwright construction. Very interesting.
There is a place here, that states that, it is “the southernmost point in the United States”, the guide told us the correct statement should be, “it is the southernmost tourist point in the United States”. Note the word “tourist”. The naval base evidently occupies the southernmost part of the island.
Note, there is a very very long que of people, waiting to have their photo taken in front of it.
Key West has been destroyed repeatedly by: Hurricanes’, fires, wars, diseases’, floods, and economic disasters’, but always makes a comeback. It became wealthy, at one stage, by salvaging ships that regularly wrecked on the shallow waters around the island, many of the houses have look out towers on top of them, from those days, where people kept watch, for sailing ships being blown onto the rocks in bad weather.
When one was seen in trouble, there would be a cry of “wreck-a-hoy” screamed out, and the locals would then go streaming out as fast as they could. Not so much as to rescue people, but be the first to the wreck, so they could claim salvage rights.
But those glory days passed, when the steam ships arrived and the ships were no longer as vulnerable to the whiles of the sea.
Then they became the sponge capital of the world, the area became extremely wealthy of sponges, they were the best quality in the world, (you might say they were sponging of the sea) ß that was bad wasn’t it! Sorry about that, could not resist it.
But then a blight hit the sponge fields and wiped them out.
But not to be daunted, the people of Key West rallied, and decided to turn the place into a tourist mecca.
They spent millions to do it up, and provide things, for the tourist to do. The big day was upon them, all the press releases went out. And you know dam well, this is not going to end well, don’t you?
Well you are right, the day before the formal opening, a hurricane swept through and destroyed everything.
They are tough little blighters, these Key Westers, they rebuilt again, and today, they are one of the top places for Americans to holiday.
There is a street sign here that states, US Highway 1, under it is a mileage plate that states “0”. It is the very start of the US State highway number 1, which travels from the bottom of the USA, right through to Canada, and the zero is the number of miles from that point.
It is supposed to be the most stolen road sign in the USA. They say it gets stolen at least once or twice a year, sometimes 6 or more times.
Sometimes, people in an effort to steal it by ripping it off, they have ripped the whole jolly light post out of the ground. The guide said, rather than rip it off, it would cause less damage and be a lot less obvious to what you’re doing, if you would just bring a 3/8th ring spanner.
So now you know, if your going to Key West, and you would like a souvenir road sign, take a 3/8th ring spanner.
We have taken a break from site seeing, and we’re taking it as a lunch break, at the Flying Monkey, a reasonably up market looking place, but I’m a little worried about the name, and wondering what they put in the food, that they see flying monkeys.
Now I know, I have a bit of a reputation, to embellish a little bit, but this little nugget is gods own undiluted truth.
As we walked up to the doors we notice there were no other patrons that we could see, pleasant young lady at the door says "sorry we're not open yet". Its 12:30pm the middle of lunch time and their not open, their having a important staff meeting. But just as we're about to leave, she says "wait they should not be to long, just go in and sit down and we should be with you soon".
Now, what critical event has dragged all the staff away, in the middle of the busiest time of the day??
A staff member is injured?? The food has gone off?? the cooking equipment has broken down?? they have lost power??
maybe the cook has died?? what could it be????
Pleasant young lady turns up a little while later, and apologises for the delay, (and wait for it) the manager had call for an urgent meeting to discuss "How they could better serve their customers".
I had a radicle solution, how about staff during the lunch period to serve us a meal, gee that would go a long way to make us happy! Now I know I've said this before but, Americans are crazy!
I ordered a Caribbean hamburger, and I’m starting to get a bit cheesed off, with this American thing with food. I am sitting here looking at it, and wondering which of us is the tallest!!!!
You know that comment I made above, about wondering what’s in the food? Well I can tell something that’s in their burgers, “Chilli” and lots of it.
Wow no wonder they hallucinate about flying monkeys. I’m not allowed to tell you what Hil ate, let’s just say, neither of us will need to eat for a week. The food was delicious, but it is a good thing I love chilli.
If you find yourself in Key West, definitely dine at the Flying Monkey.
Another big thing here is the Cuban cigars, not from Cuba, but made the traditional way, by Cubans living here.
Almost every fourth shop or so seems to sell them, all different shapes, diameters, and lengths. I never even imagined there could have been so many. A pity I don’t smoke cigars, gees I could have picked up some beauties. The one that caught my eye the most was a cigar, called the Churchill, it was about 200mm long and about 30mm wide.
It was a mix of Cuban tobacco, rum, and nutmeg, I can just imagine the aroma, and I bet it would take you a whole day, and then some to smoke it. But thankfully I’m not a smoker, so wasn’t really tempted.
As we return to the ship, we notice a group of people at a table enjoying a drink and some Spanish music.
So you say! well they must have been into some serious smoke as they were completely stoned. Including the people on the balcony behind them. See photo below:
We have returned to the ship, had dinner, and as the ship does not leave until after dark, I’m up on the highest point on the ship we are allowed, getting ready to take some photos of the sunset.
As the sun sinks into the west, Hil and I enjoy the most fabulous end, to a very enjoyable day.
It suddenly occurs to me, here’s something for you to think about, while going to sleep!
Why would an island, at the southernmost point, of the eastern side, of the USA, be called, Key West??
Fair weather to you all
From the Winterlesses2
Port 30 – Limon – 23rd August
We are in Limon, Costa Rica. (Limon is Costa Rican for Lemon, they have lots of them here evidently)
This is a tropical country, with rain forests, and large swamps.
Today we are going on a “Rain Forest Walk” and a “Canal Boat Ride” through a swamp nature preserve.
The day starts with a walk in a rain forest area, on the way, the guide tells us that Costa Rica was nearly 80% rain forest, and about 15% swamp land. But over the years, the rain forest was destroyed, and about thirty years ago, there was only about 20% left. The government since then has had a restoration program going on, to re-establish the rain forest, and today they estimate it is back to around 45%, with the plan to bring it back up to, approximately the 70% mark in the next ten to twenty years.
With the return of the forest, also the residents of the forest are also making a comeback. Mainly the Howler Monkeys, and the Sloths, but also the birds, insects, and other denizens of the forests.
Along the way we stopped for a comfort stop, which just happened to be a souvenir shack as well, funny that!
So most of us debarked the bus, around us we could hear the Howler Monkeys, but unfortunately all we got to see of them was a few shaking trees.
With high hopes we reboarded the bus and head for the rain forest, about 20 minutes later, we are at a little soccer field, it has stated to rain, a good steady rain, guide leads us off up a narrow dirt road, then tells us we are now in the rain forest and starts describing the flora and fauna around us. I could clearly see it was a rain forest because, there was a lot of trees around us and it was raining, but it loses it a little when your standing in a roadway, and you can see a shipping port in the distance.
But none the less, we are quite excited when he points out a little black & bright green frog at the side of the road and is telling us about how the natives use to harvest the poison sacks from them to use in hunting. On our walk we got to see several of them, and one a yellow & black one, several large black birds, we are informed are turkey eagles, or some such thing, but we never got close enough to really see what they look like.
After we walked about 700 metres up that road, it got too rough to continue, so headed back to the bus.
It was a bit of an anti-climax, no monkeys, no sloths, no real anything, but some frogs. But we had been warned beforehand that sometimes this happens, so guess we were just unlucky.
Hil is not sure it was worth get drench again for. But I’m happy, we are getting good value out of our rain gear purchase.
The bus takes us some kilometres along the coast, and then pulls of the road, we are now at a run-down resort area, and at the end of it, the canal boats are bobbing on the water, without any fanfare, or much of anything else, we are led down, and ushered onto several boats, and launched into the stream. I’m not to sure it is a real canal because there seems to be a fair current flowing along it, and I would not have thought a swamp would have a noticeable current. The guide explains that the swamps were so dense and dangerous, the government sent in the army engineers, to create the canals so people could travers it easier.
The boats are off, and not too far away we come across a very small croc, about 600m or so long, he just lays there and looked at us for a second, then closed its eyes and ignored us. A bit further along we saw an iguana lizard scuttle away, it was more a flash of green. But then came the excitement, not far from the water’s edge, a group of sloths are found, people are running around the boat, cameras are clicking, including mine. We could have taken our time, have you any idea how long it takes a sloth to go anywhere. Now I know why they call people slothful, I thought it was about being dirty, but once you see one you get it, not only are they very slow, they are also very shaggy and unkept, in their looks. We spend some time having a look, until they get fed up with us and move back just far enough that they were hard to see in the leaves. And we move on, a little while later we see another iguana lizard, sunning its self on a fence, other than that, the only other fauna we see are some birds, the most notable a blue heron.
Near where the blue heron was, there is a water police and drug enforcement compound, in front of it are about ten, long low sleek looking boats with four, repeat four huge outboard motors on the back of each one, and each of those outboards would be well over 100hp each. We are informed they belonged to, drug runners that were caught, and have been confiscated. The set up gives the drug smugglers a very low profile to be hard to detect by radar, and the speed to out run anything that chased them.
I’m surprised that when they engaged all four motors at full speed that they did not drive the transom through the rest of the boat. God knows what it would have been like skipping across the waves at sea in one.
It’s not such a great trick, these days with the over the horizon radars, and aerial monitoring. Hence the line-up of these boats.
Our boats head back to the launch piers, and we’re back on solid ground.
Well the Canal Ride was a little less exciting than we had imagined, what with it looking more like a polluted creek, with houses backed onto it, and to also takes from it a little, when there was a road that ran right along side of it, and again if you looked through the trees you could see a fishing village.
What can I say, it had some interesting spots, but I definitely never felt I was getting into the wilds at any time.
We have returned to the Sea Princess for lunch, at which we debated the wisdom of bursting forth, for another try at Limon, the suggestion that there is a nice park just outside the port teases us into venturing out.
It is a short walk from the ship to the terminal, which is a welcome change to a port, but you do have to fight your way through a bustling market to get out. I will say this for the market, it had a better-quality merchandise than most, and a good variety of different items.
Its funny, we paid to see the wildlife in their natural habitat, and didn’t see very much, we walk out of the terminal, and there in the trees, were are a whole family of sloths, crawling around, upside down directly above us. As we walk around the park, I see a couple more iguanas, and several birds.
Around the park is several shops and Hil is off to see what’s available, I troop along behind her, but quickly lose interest, so head back outside.
No sooner than I walk out, and just across the road I see a blur fall from up in the trees, I see it bounce and people are yelling, I run across, and its one of the sloths, a small one, its laying spread out on the concrete path. I’m thinking poor bugger! When a local comes up, picks it up by the scruff of the neck like a kitten,
and walks over to a tree, and holds it against it, but it doesn’t seem to be able to get a good hold of it. So, the guy starts pulling it off again, but the hold it does have, it’s not, letting of go easy.
Now the onboard lecturer told us, that sloths are very docile, but they can be very dangerous, and very fast if riled, they will attack and can inflict, quite serious wounds to people if they threaten them.
Well this sloth, was getting very riled, and then it got dam mad, its lips went back, and its teeth were bared, and it let go. Its legs started swinging around, slashing, it was hissing and growling, women were screaming, men yelling, (Notice I said men were yelling not screaming) the sloth was definitely not happy.
But the guy was unperturbed, he calmly walked to another tree, with better purchase for the sloth, and pushed it onto it. The sloth goes from Frankenstein to happy puppy in the blink of an eye.
You know, as I think about it, so could my kids at times.
The sloth is happy, and slowly, makes his way back up into the tree, settles down among some leaves, and proceeds to replace about a week’s use of energy, he had just burnt up, in the minute or so after he fell from the tree.
Well Limon turned out a bit exciting after all, and Hil and I proceeded to explore the rest of the town.
If you’re looking to go somewhere, that has not been influenced by the tourist industry, then this is a place to consider, it is what it is, there is no tinsel.
Fair weather to you all
From the Winterlesses2
Port 31 – Manta – 26th August
Manta Ecuador, we have visited here previously, and to my great joy, became the proud owner of a so-called panama hat.
As you’re are probably aware, the panama hat is not from panama, but come from a little Ecuadorian town of Montecristo. I am so pleased we are here today, as about six weeks before we left home, my Montecristo Hat disappeared, we hunted high, we hunted low, but alas it had vanished. So today, part of our travels includes a return trip to Montecristo, to buy a new hat.
Our itinerary for today is: The fish markets; Rain Forest; Local Lunch; and then Montecristo……yay.
I can honestly say the Fish Market was not what I expected, there’s nothing fascinating about a building full of fish for sale, is there?
Well, you haven’t been to the fish market here, it starts on the beach as the fishing boats unload direct onto the beach, they drag the catch up the beach a bit, to tables set into the sand, and begin to cut the fish up there and then, and these are not your usual catch.
You know that photo you have or even wish you had, holding up your monster catch in one hand and your rod in the other!
Well eat your heart out, here you could not lift one with both hands, these tunas are about 6 ft long and about 300mm to 400mm across, it takes two people to lift them onto the tables.
The first things to disappear, are the heads and tails, I wondered what they were taken so quick for, then Hil said the restaurants prise them for fish soups.
Well whatever, within minutes onto the beach they are all gone, not a sign of them. I noticed this in Asia as well, the heads & tails, seem to be the most prised part of a fish, we cut it of and throw them away.
Then the serious business of cutting up the fish, gets started, I’m amazed at the speed these things get dissembled, they use a long thin knife, and my god it must be sharp, it just parts the flesh like its butter, and huge chunks are removed, and in a lot of cases, they seem to be bought as they come off.
Now that, would be as fresh as you are ever going to get I reckon.
As the process continues, the carcases, or at least sections of them, move further up the beach, to more sophisticated tables, processed and then moved into the fish market proper at the top of the beach.
As we wander through the market, the processing is continuing, as pieces are packaged up and sold on in smaller lots.
I’ve been shopping in fish markets many times, But, what I am looking at here, is amazing, the shear size of the fish being sold, I’m looking at squid that has to be 600mm or more, wide, (that’s calamari folks, forget those little rings you buy, these would make waist bands for a fat monk).
There are prawns, about 200mm long, there are pieces of fish, sold just as single pieces, being sold by the kilogram. Oh, and those prawns, and smaller ones, their being sold for around $2us per kilogram.
Are you feeling envious? Well don’t be! Have a thought for us, we had to stand here, and watch it all, and could not buy a dam thing, because, what in the world would we do with it, if we did.
Our hour here has gone surprisingly quick, and we’re on our way to the rain forest, Hil is not impressed, and I quote “Not another rain forest! Well I’m not getting out of the bus, if it’s raining!”, I tell her it might be different, but she is having none of it, any rain and she won’t budge.
As it turned out she probably should have stuck to her guns.
Well, when we arrive, thankfully it’s not raining, but it sure is looking a bit sus with the rain. However, we all dismount, there is eight of us, and we are looking forward to the stroll through the forest.
A local guide meets us, and ah, he does not speak a word of English, but the bus tour guide says he will translate for us.
O joy! This could be fun, the guide shows us a sign board that details the walk, it’s a 2 km walk that takes about 1.5 hours to 2 hours, we’re told.
Hil is giving me one of her looks that says, I’d better not get wet!!! I smile reassuringly to her.
But I don’t think she is all that reassured.
We set off, along a small path, about 1 metre wide, paved with blue metal stone. Seems pretty well maintained.
Following along, our guide is translating local guides dialog, of the flora as we pass it. After a bit the track, deteriorates a little to a dirt track, but it is ok, that is until, he points to a small holes in the ground beside the path, and says, “Tarantula Home”, which was still fine, until he takes a small stick, and proceeds to tease a spider out, now the ladies are not to happy about that, neither were several of the guys, me being the main one, I hate spiders, even daddy long legs.
The guide stands there describing how it hunts and what it eats, which includes small birds, and some large lizards who also try to feed on it.
Eventually we move on, and we continue into the forest, the forest that I’m starting to think of is more jungle than anything else, as the track keeps deteriorating.
We have travelled quite away in, when a group of young people in their 30’s I would estimate, they had decided to turn back, as they had hit the halfway mark further on, and it had got a little too steep for them. We asked them if they had seen the monkeys, and no they hadn’t seen any, but had heard them.
We decide to go on to the point the others turned back, just in case we could see the monkeys.
The trail keeps deteriorating, we finally come to a set of steep steps, cut into the side of the hill, that leads way down into a gorge, our guide says he believes the monkey are not too far distance from this point, we assess the stairs, and decide we could handle them and will proceed.
Oh, if we could only have foreseen, where that foolish decision would lead us, we would never have, ventured further.
BUT we DID!
Down those stairs we went, it was muddy, the steps were long steps down from each one, the jungle closed right in, AND it got darker!
After struggling down the steps for about 15 minutes, we reached the bottom.
Great hay, NO, at the bottom of the steps was a stream, across it was a bridge.
Well that’s ok, yes?
NO, the bridge spans about four metres, it consists of six bamboo logs about 100mm thick, secured at each end only, with a little 50mm bamboo handrail stretching across each side, Nothing, supports the middle section.
At the bottom you can see the bridge!
NO, the bridge spans about four metres, it consists of six bamboo logs about 100mm thick, secured at each end only, with a little 50mm bamboo handrail stretching across each side, Nothing, supports the middle section.
At the bottom you can see the bridge!
Again, we decide to proceed, (eight people, in their 70’s, are going, where six people in their 30’s, feared to go!!!)
Does this sound like a rational or wise decision to you?
We proceed onto the bridge, the bamboo logs, bounce up and down independent of each other, they’re wet, they’re slippery, but somehow, we all make it across successfully.
Fearlessly we proceed.
Oh, by the way, did I mention that the track, ended at the bridge, and now we’re proceeding along beside the stream, well mostly, some of it is in the bloody stream!
We’re now coming across, giant snails, flora that wants to attack us, and about 30 trillion mosquitoes.
We quite often, have to hack our way through foliage, not with machete’s, just our own bloody arms!!!
Meanwhile
The guide is telling us how it is only safe to travel this trail during the day, (why would you want to travel it at night???).
Why is it only safe, during the day?
Because at night, it is when the denizens of the forest hunt.
And what are the denizens of the forest?
And what are the denizens of the forest?
Well would you believe they include: Puma (for those that don’t know, they are a sort of mountain lion), wild cats native to the area, they’re about the size of a Labrador dog, and extremely ferocious, oh and of course an assortment of poisonous snakes.
But he says not to worry! We are quite safe, they normally only hunt at night.
NORMALLY!! Somehow, we’re not feeling all that assured.
It is thought maybe we should head back, but he assures us, the monkeys are not far ahead, so we venture on.
Sure enough, he gets to a point, and stops, pulls out this thing from under his jacket, that turns out to be a mini beat box, and plays a recording of some heavy grunting. He explains it’s the challenge of a male Howler Monkey, to the alpha male.
All sounds good, until, suddenly it is being answered in the distance, he plays it again, several times.
The alpha male grunts in return, and we can hear him getting closer, RAPIDLY!
Soon, the trees around us are filled with screaming monkeys, they are leaping about all over the place.
One we see launches itself into clear blue sky from way up, there is a collective gasp, from our group, but as it sails toward the ground at very fast rate, then it grabs a small branch on the way down, and swings up into the tree next to us.
They are all around us and above us, their shrieking, but then the alpha male starts his challenge. The grunting is deafening.
Hilary says it sounded more like an enraged gorilla, than a monkey, and I fully agree with her.
He was really aggressive, and sounded like he really wanted to fight whoever it was that challenge him, so I kept pointing at the guy with the beatbox.
The guide calmly lets us take all the photos we want, and then, tells us its time to go, some think it’s time to head back, but he assures us it is quicker to continue, so we head further into the unknown.
Well he said it would be quicker, he definitely did not say anything about it getting tougher. But it did…..
We had to scramble over rocks, across a small waterfall, up and down muddy banks, fight thorn bushes with 25mm thorns, one of which got stuck in my shoe, that took some getting out, it didn’t want to let me go. We had to wade through ankle deep streams. All the time, it kept threatening to rain.
And all the time were doing this, the guide is continuing his monologue of the flora & fauna around us.
It was, it was, ah, um, ah fascinating, and thrilling, and terrifying, all at the same time.
Eventually we started to see signs, of a track, then a little latter we were on a similar path, to what we started out on, and then out of the gloom, we see our bus, patiently waiting for us.
I don’t think any bus in history, was greeted as warmly as our bus, by our group.
I don’t think any bus in history, was greeted as warmly as our bus, by our group.
When we popped out of that trek, our 1.5 hour to 2-hour walk had taken about 2¾ hours, but don’t snigger. Our over 70’s group, out walked a bunch of 30-year old’s. Also, the guide as you read above, kept assuring us, all was fine, all the way through, he was right, and we dam well lived up to his assurances, that we could do it.
Our feet are covered in mud, our legs are covered in mud, our hands are covered in mud, and some of us have scratches dripping blood. But still, we’re on a high, we did something we would never have thought we would or could do.
Oh, by the way do you remember, way back at the start of the walk, I said we were looking forward to our stroll in the rain forest, boy you can see I had no idea, of our coming adventure.
But, if something had gone wrong in there, and someone needed help, god knows how we could have got them out.
However, we did survive it, with virtually no damage, so we are pretty dam well proud of ourselves.
If we had known how hard it was going to be, would we have gone in? Never, Not a chance!!!
Are we sorry we did it, is there any regret that we did it? Never, Not a chance!!!
After our little jaunt, we were more than ready for lunch, so our bus heads out onto the beach road and a little local village restaurant right on the beach. We are honoured guests, so we are given the penthouse deluxe upper balcony with panoramic ocean views. Well, the place was in reality, more a two-level shanty shack, with rickety steps up to a very flimsy deck.
Fortunately, it was a very calm day, and we sat as still as possible, so it didn’t shake too much.
Orders were taken, and in due course, the meals arrived, they were an assortment of seafood rice dishes, they looked ok, but they were eaten in faith so to speak, as god knows what was in them.
It was noted as we left, all the meals were being prepared on a 44-gal drum stove, with a fire roaring in it.
We all agreed it was best not thinking about it to much, and if we survived, through to the next day, we will tell everybody how great our meal was. If not, we won’t mention a word about it, for obvious reasons.
After lunch we are on our way to the place I’ve survived everything so far to do. We’re on our way to Montecristo and the purchase of my new hat.
On arrival there, we go through the prerequisites of how the Panama Hat, is not from Panama but from Montecristo, then a demonstration on how they are made, with emphasises on, that the more threads the better the hat, and how long it takes to make one.
The last 2 bits is to, soften the blow, that they will cost more than a normal hat. But I have been through all this before, and I stand there, hopping from foot to foot, ready to go.
Finally, they set us free, and we are into the stores, as I have been here before, I know the ropes, so I’m quick to sort out the quality items, and then its down to selecting brim, and style.
Now when it comes to cost, the hats are dearer than the normal ones you buy at home, but the prices here for a genuine “Panama” hat, is way below what you would pay, in the United States or Australia, for example a $40us hat here will cost you around $350us in the States, and a $250us hat, about $1200us in the States.
So, bargaining is expected, but don’t forget that $40 hat cost someone months to make.
I found my hat, and Hil found one as well, so we are happy little puppies, and we can now return home, contented.
Fair thee well from Manta.
Fair weather to you all
From the Winterlesses2
Port 32 – Lima – 28th August
We are in Lima for two days. When we were here in 2014, we visited the Miraflores Shopping Centre, the Indian Markets, and several other typical touristy places, we were not particularly interested in doing them again.
What caught our eye however, on this visit, was a trip to the Pachacamac Pyramids, these are pre-Inca pyramids, but of a slightly less barbaric culture. The extent and complexity of the ruins, is quite mind boggling.
The building complex’s we are visiting are immense, they cover acre’s, and the guide says, only about 20% have so far been exposed, but then adds that this is less than half of it! He points out a very large shanty town to one side, of the excavation area, and says that it is built over the extended ruins in that direction, he then points to the other side of the main highway running along the excavation site, and tells us, they believe it is running right through the middle of the whole of the city, from the records they have from the Spanish who discovered the site, while it was still a thriving community. That was of course, before they plundered it, murdered thousand of them, enslaved the rest, and destroyed all their gods.
But back to our site we are visiting, it is made up of 16 pyramids, most are believed to have been the civil and business centres of the city, then there are two others, the one to the moon, which was run by the women, and only those considered the most beautiful were selected, to serve there. These women were trained as priestesses, their main purpose was to worship the moon, and as teachers. But there was one other duty they were encouraged to volunteer for, was the be a handmaiden to serve the sun god. That folks, is a sacrifice, on the sun gods alter. Volunteer? You say!
Yep that is right, you see it was a great honour to be sacrificed to the god, and it brought great honour to your family!
Evidently there was no real shortage for volunteers.
Your thinking are they mad, yes, I was too, but our guide explained that, they were taught their beliefs from an early age, as they were taken into the temple at age 5 or 6, and indoctrinated full time from then, until they were about twenty, then encouraged to volunteer, when they did, it could be years until they were actually selected for the sacrifice.
Did some of them change there mind? Rarely evidently, because to change your mind, would bring great shame on your family, and you were banished from all contact with their society.
Sometimes those that volunteered were never called upon, and supposedly they were greatly disappointed.
Me I would be thinking, great my family gets all this honour, I’ve lived a luxury filled life, and I get to skip out of the main event! As Fred would say; Yabba dabba do…….
Now the last temple is, the temple to the Sun God, and naturally, this is the largest and the most spectacular, located on the highest hill. And yes, it is huge, but here is where the rubber hits the road, here is where the sacrifices are offered. No not just the very lovely young virgins, but all sorts of things, from crops, to live stock, to valued processions, to humans. All burnt to placate the gods.
Normally humans were a last option to send to the gods, but if there was a very special occasion, or a special need, or some disaster happening, then they went all out with their special gifts!
Then the special priestess was brought forward, and a farewell party was had, amongst a lot of religious grandeur.
Where the guest of honour is fed, and gets to sample, lots of the sacred drink, a very strong Hallucinatory’ liquor, when she has been well primed, they make a grand parade from the temple of the moon, carrying the now rather dreamy special guest, on a litter.
On arrival at the temple of the Sun, she is led up to the very top, primed with lots more of the sacred drink, and then sat in special chair, hopefully by this stage she is now comatose, if not, someone comes up behind her, and gives her a quick rap, to the side of the head, to ensure she is!
You see, it’s not considered proper etiquette, for the special guest to start screaming as she is sent to the gods, by being incinerated.
Some times it would appear that the special guest, was not enough for the god, so they would start sending captives and slaves, as well. If this did not work, the priests got nervous, as, if it seemed the gods were still not happy, they then started sacrificing the priests starting at the most junior and working their way up.
Now all this may seem a little barbaric to you, but when the Incas took over it got a lot less civilised, they introduced the, strap um to the alter stone, split open their chest, reach in and rip out the heart, while awake, and count the heart beats, to figure out what the gods want.
So, I’m a little more sympathetic to the predecessors to the Incas.
At least they asked for volunteers, not just you, you and you will do.
Now we have that wonderful little titbit of info out of the way, lets get back to the excavations.
Remember I said, “The extent and complexity of the ruins, is quite mind boggling”. And it is, this period of time they did not have horses and carts, they did not even have the wheel. But they did design and build major roads, and service roads, they cut through miles of the country, all leading to this temple city.
One of the things that amazed me most was this city was, and still is in a major desert. Yet they estimate up around several hundred thousand people lived here. The first thing that comes to mind how did they survive with very little water?
We often think of them as primitive people, well these primitive people designed an aqueduct system, equivalent to our town mains, made from stone blocks that were cut and transported to the city, from hundreds of miles away, and water was diverted from a river some miles distant, then fed it into cisterns around the city, for people to draw from.
Not so backward after all were they!
The pyramids, are constructed of a base of stone blocks, cut from a quarry, many miles away, a transported god knows how to the site. On top of that is a further section made of stone, then the upper construction is made of mud bricks, literally millions of them. Now keep in mind, we are in a desert of sand, where did the mud come from?
These pyramids, and especially the Sun Gods one, are as large as the ones in Egypt.
The outer surfaces of the buildings, were then coated with a mud render, which in turn was coated with a white paint, then a coat of red, before hieroglyphics where finally painted over the lot. The paint finish was not just for decorative effect, but also served to protect the mud bricks from the occasional rains that came, they would have deteriorated the bricks, and made them collapse.
In the construction of the pyramids, they have discovered that, the builders had built holes at angles so that at certain times the sun would light up specific sections of the interiors.
Definitely not so backward after all, indeed!!!
There were areas around the temples, that were used as grave yards, and during the excavations they discovered them. It was traditional to bury their dead standing up, it was considered more dignified to be standing than lying down.
They would dig a pit and the interned would be lowered into it, wearing their finest clothe and ornamentation, then special goods would be put in with them and then filled in, once the dirt was over their head a cap stone was placed over them, then the hole filled in completely. If you were rich or of special rank, your pit was lined with stone bricks.
All the excavators were very excited about this discovery, UNTIL, it got out that the ornamentation and special goods, was often gold and jewels.
Then people started sneaking in and ransacking the burial mounds.
The Peru government now has police and special security guards monitoring the site 24/7. Remember the site is huge, you can imagine the cost of providing the man power to guard it.
The Pyramids of Pachacamac were fascinating, and if you’re in Lima, really worth a visit.
But try and make sure you have a guide like we had, who really lived his narrative, and gets excited about his little antidotes of life, at the time of the Pyramids hay day, and what those retched Spanish did….
Oh, by the way, as you can see by reading this, we all survived the lunch on the beach in Manta.
So yes, we can say, the meal was great.
Fair weather to you all
From the Winterlesses2
Port 33 – Easter Island – 3rd September
We have reached Easter Island (Rapa Nui), we are awaiting boarding of Chilean Authorities.
Meanwhile we are dressed, legal landing papers all filled out.
Rapa Nui is a place I have dreamed about, since I was a kid, and read stories of the Moai, those giant stone statues, that the original natives carved out of stone, and erected around the Island. These statues are about 10 to 15 metres tall, some even up to around 20 metres tall.
It has been on my wish list of places to go, since Hil and I started travelling.
Our plan today is to get ashore asap, as we are hiring a car, well actually, there are 8 in my group, and we are hiring two four-wheel drive SUV’s. We have been busy planning our tour, crisscrossing the island so we can visit most of the Moai, the volcano crater, and the underground village.
This is one, extremely popular port, and we are all lined up from 6:30am, for shuttle tickets. The shuttle tickets desk opens at 8:30am. There is a que, that leads from the doors of the Rigoletto dining room level 5, (where tickets will be issued from) out around the atrium, out into the stair foyers, and back past the services desk. In addition, there are people standing on the stairs circling up two levels of the atrium. That should tell you how enthusiastic we all are for this particular port. We, I might say with a little smugness are third in line!!!!
We are all so early, we are clogging up the atrium area, and the service desk has come over the intercom, to tell us that the tickets won’t be issued until 8:30am, and so could everyone please move away from the dining room doors.
Everyone looks at each other and says, YEAH RIGHT, not likely. Could you imagine, the result if we did all move back, into a large mob away from the doors, instead of our orderly que?
Dining room doors open, mans says tickets are now available, and in the following screeching, this crowd would leave several dead, (including the fool that opened the door, and enough wounded to make a major hospital to falter.
Yeah no way José, we are here until we get our tickets…..
Finally, 8:30 arrives, doors still closed, people are getting edgy, a couple of officers arrive and informs us, that they are only issuing shuttle cards to each individual only, bedlam breaks out, officers realise they are facing a potential mutinous mob, they back down and start handing out cards to group leaders, (potential nasty moment passes), and happy little passengers are getting, the cards we’ve been waiting for.
We have shuttle cards 37 to 44, shuttles take 120 people each, yay we are on the first shuttle.
Rather than risk further crushing and the lives of their officers, the service desk advises, that if people with tickets move away from the gangway to the shuttles, they will call people to board the shuttles by their shuttle numbers, if people will just move to a more comfortable location, such as the crooners lounge, or their cabins we will, call your numbers over the intercom system.
We are happy at this, so we disperse as requested. Sigh of relief from the service desk.
All we have to do now, is wait for clearance from the authorities, and the captain, and the exodus will commence.
I can’t describe to you the atmosphere of anticipation here, of those wonderful words “shuttle cards 37 to 44”, can now board their shuttle. But we wait and we wait, the captain has pre-warned us that sometimes the port authorities can take awhile to complete their paper work.
Finally, we are advised that the port authorities have approved the landing, HOWEVER, the captain is still watching the weather, and the current wind direction is making it difficult, to allow shuttle craft to land.
This happened in 2014, when we were here, and they then told us that the port call was cancelled.
This time we are much more hopeful, and the passengers are clearly making their wishes known.
Finally, the captain comes on and tells us that the landing area, is marginal and landing could be made.
However, he continues on, that the weather conditions are such that they are not sure they would be able to get us off again.
So, they are re checking the long range forecast again.
At last the captains has come back on, and he has decided the we may not go.
The port is too dangerous to land the shuttles, so we are up anchoring, and continuing to our next port of destination.
The disappointment is as you can imagine is palatable. Talk about long faces, and slouching shoulders, so much so there are knuckle groves in the carpet, where I dragged mine along.
But there is a good side, at least this time we got shuttle tickets!! We can stick in our albums!!!
ALBUMS I said!! Don’t be rude!!!
The rest of the day was spent, drowning our sorrow’s, in the Crooners bar area, my choice of misery relief was, CHOCOBANANA.
Oh, by the way did I tell you about my Chocobanana find?
Those who have read my original blog will remember, the immediate love affair, between me and a mocktail called a Chocobanana, on that trip, and how I lamented it being deleted from the menus on subsequent cruises.
Well by accident, about two weeks back I found out, although it is not on the menus, it is still available if you ask for it.
OOOH BLISSsss. Especially in times like this, you can see the scene can’t you!
Me sitting at a little table, head down in misery, hands cradling a Chocobanana in solace for my heavy heart…………
Oh, what’s that you say? Oh ok, for those of you who do not know what a Chocobanana is:-
It is sort of a heavenly combination, of a double chocolate milk shake, a banana smoothie, honey, and nutmeg, topped with a swirl of whipped cream. Yes, decadent and self-indulgent as hell. And I’m fully unrepentant.
Fair weather to you all
From the Winterlesses2
Alas sorry folks that's it.... I seem to have lost Tahiti, Raiatea, Auckland.
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