Oslo, Norway – For Whom the Bell Tolls

The biggest adventure you can ever take is to live the life of your dreams. – Oprah Winfrey

The Oslo Tree – a modern sculpture with LED lights that change to match the season.

It is daylight as we sail up the sound leading Oslo, Norway. Stepping out on deck, I’m met with a smell that’s familiar but half forgotten. It’s the smell of snow, that sharp clean scent of a warm winter day. I can see snow on the distant hills, and a ski slope shows clearly just out of town.

We’re sailing slowly up a long passage too narrow for a bay, and too wide and shallow to be a fjord. it takes several hours to reach Oslo.

We dock right in town – no shuttle bus today! Norway is not part of the EU, so it’s a whole new immigration clearance again. In front of us is a wide brick walkway into the shopping district. It is closed for a foot race, but by the time David and I wander out it is open again. The race has moved on to closed streets we won’t be going to.

It’s Saturday, and the sun is out. The once empty streets now teem with people. The cold morning has become a hot spring day in a very short time. We wander through a modern world, with exercise parks, shopping malls, and sculptures everywhere. I stop at the harbour where the ferries come and go. There are ferries, and tall ships, and pleasure boats.

Across Radhusplassen square is the Nobel Peace Center. By the water is a church bell suspended between two widely spaced poles. It rings intermittently. It doesn’t swing, no clapper seems to move, but still it sounds. It was removed from the City Hall carillon when it became out of tune with the other bells, and later raised as an art installation. There is a Cry Baby pedal which will ring the bell when stepped on.

The Nobel Peace Center, where the Nobel Peace Prize is awarded annually. It is the only Nobel Prize not awarded in Stockholm Sweden.

We explore Radhusplassen square with its many statues, and move on to climb the hill to Akershus Castle.

The Radhusplassen statues are all of women, some with children.

The steps up the slope are sloping and the cobblestones are worn smooth with use. Even dry they are slick. Thank goodness it’s not raining! From the battlements I can see the harbour beyond ours, with two other cruise ships in dock beyond.

View from the battlements. Note the snow on the ski slope in the distance!

After exploring the castle grounds we retrace our steps past ships, sculptures, and modern apartment buildings. These are so different from the old town areas we’ve explored in other cities, with lines and curves and canyons of shiny glass.

The waterfront is now lined with cafe umbrellas and outdoor diners. Families congregate on wide concrete steps and platforms along the water. The braver of the young people leap into the water and swim to nearby ladders to climb out. Bronze statues give way to modern sculptures. The Oslo tree has artificial leaves veined with LED lights with colour pattern that change with the seasons. I regret not being able to see it in the dark! But for now, we relax and soak up the sun with the people around us.

Yes, people are actually swimming there! (Most are just sunning)

We sail away from Oslo in daylight and admire the passing scenery. It is much like sailing through the Gulf Islands, and I feel very much at home. Only the houses are different. At home, the houses would be strung along the shore, built to maximize privacy and view. Here, they cluster tightly in villages. Could this hark back to Viking days, when safety in numbers was important? Is it a stronger sense of community? Perhaps one led into the other over time?

But the light fades, the sun sets, and darkness hides my surroundings once more.

Tomorrow we will be in Kristiansand, the second of our five stops in Norway. Bring a warm coat and an umbrella – they’re calling for rain!

Senses of Oslo:

The sight of sleek modern glass buildings in the sun.

The sound of the untuned bell ringing by the harbour.

The feel of the sloping, slippery stone steps going up to the castle.

The smell of snow in the air in the fjord at sail in.

The taste of Norwegian beet cured salmon lox at dinner.

Today’s Tip: Check the weather by stepping outside as well as by the forecast. The heavy layers you pick because the morning was chilly might not be wise for an afternoon venture.

Copenhagen, Denmark- The Little Mermaid in Spring

Some journeys lead us far from home. Some adventures lead us to our destiny. – C. S. Lewis

Hans Christian Anderson’s Little Mermaid

After a day at sea, we make landfall this morning in Copenhagen, Denmark. I take my coffee to the Crows Nest to watch the sunrise as we near land.

Sailing in, I can see differences between this city and the one we left two days ago. There are canals here, too, and of course wind generators by the sea. But here the similarity to Amsterdam ends. The canals here are fewer, more commercial, and don’t have to work so hard. They are natural sea water and go up and down with the tide. Pumps and sluice gates are not needed. They are straight, stone walled and man made, as are many of the small islands in the harbour.

These windmills are for power, not for flood control.

We are booked on a tour called Copenhagen by Canal and Coach, so I can’t really pretend to be surprised by the canals. After breakfast, David and I head out to our bus. It is warm here after the cold of Amsterdam. Spring is definitely coming! Of course, Copenhagen is not on the Atlantic and doesn’t deal with those punishing cold winds.

I don’t know what this building is, but that spire is awesome!

This bus takes us to the canal boat. Our land tour is later. This time, we get an outdoor seat in the back of the boat. The view is clearer, and the outside sounds and smells aren’t hidden like they are inside. Our boat guide does does a good commentary. No earbuds needed today! His voice rises and falls with high inflections. He is very funny as well as informative.

The outer deck has clearer sight, sound, and smell!

The air is warm, and I see cherry trees in bloom on land. A swan glides right up to us as we pass. A lot of the buildings here are connected to royalty. A king lived in them, or stabled his horses in it, or built it to honour someone. Kings kept the stonemasons well employed back in the day.

One building is called the Marble Palace. Construction was underway before it was realized that marble was too expensive and construction stopped. The abandoned ruin sat for 130 years before a more practical king had it finished in cheaper material painted to look like marble. There is always a solution!

We see the Little Mermaid from the water side, and inner canals that pass under bridges that boats higher or wider by a few inches can’t pass. There aren’t as many canals as Amsterdam, but there are enough for an interesting exploration of the old city.

At the end of the canal ride, it’s back to the bus. We go to the Kings Square by Nyhavn, a wide canal dug centuries ago by Swedish prisoners of war. Today it is lined with busy cafes and brightly painted houses, but we’re out of time to wander here.

Pleasure boats and tour boats line the waterfront of the Nyhavn by the Kings Square.

Last stop is The Little Mermaid. She is a life size bronze statue of a young woman with a fish tail. From the number of people who are surprised at how small she is, I’m guessing the size of the average Danish girl is universally overestimated. The tide is low, and she sits on her rock at the shores edge, not fenced but watched by guards to ward off vandalism.

The Little Mermaid, fashioned after a famous model who would not pose nude. The sculptor’s wife was the model for everything below the neck.

This is also where the shuttle bus to the ship runs to. Instead of going back to the ship with our tour, David and I say our farewells and head off on foot. Maps.me is marked and will lead us into town and back. It is an easy walk past St. Albany’s Church and up the street back to the Kings Square.

A swan nests in the quiet waters beside the church.

Now we can tour the area without time pressure, and wander along the Nyhavn cafe patios looking for lunch. We meet friends just finishing lunch, and join them at the table. We order, and they stay for another drink in the spring sunshine. I have lox on gluten free bread, topped with shaved cheese, capers, and dill. Eating at an outdoor cafe laughing with friends in the sun in Denmark. Moments like this, relaxing and unexpected, are some of the major joys of travel.

The perfect accompaniment to food, friends, and laughter.

The cafes along the sidewalk run into each other seamlessly.

After lunch, we explore a mirrored exhibit in the square. Small on the outside, the interior holds a spring garden stretching into infinity.

Outside of the tiny mirrored garden in Kings Square.

And inside it’s vast kaleidoscope interior.

We pass down Nyhavn and follow the waterfront instead of the city street we came by. There is a cobbled pedestrian street, with occasional local vehicles moving slowly through the throng of pedestrians and bicycles. The tires going so slowly over the deep jointed cobbles creates a low vibrating purr, like a contented cat.

After a time, we come to a park we glimpsed on our way out. There is a wide lawn under a pavilion of cherry trees in full bloom. The air fills with their delicate and delightful scent.

The spire of St. Albany’s rises beyond a sea of cherry blossoms.

Around the edges white tents are setting up. Tomorrow is the start of the Copenhagen Sakura Festival. This Japanese festival offers demonstrations of martial arts, tea ceremonies, artistic creations, and more. I’m sorry we will miss it, but you can’t have it all.

And we miss the Sakura Festival under the blossoms by one day.

Beyond the cherry blossoms, we return to The Little Mermaid. After taking photos from various angles, and watching for pickpockets, it’s time to stroll along the curving street of trees bursting into leaf and find our shuttle.

The Little Mermaid gazes sadly out to sea.

Not knowing Danish, I have no idea what in the Sam Hill is going on here!

Back aboard the Zuiderdam, we have dinner and sail away into the sunset. Tomorrow will find us in Oslo, the first of five ports in Denmark. Watch for Viking long boats on the way!

Walking to the shuttle stop beneath a vaulted arch of blossoms.

Senses of Copenhagen:

The sight of The Little Mermaid statue.

The sound of cars purring slowly over the cobblestones like a cat.

The feel of warm spring air!

The smell of masses and masses of cherry blossoms.

The taste of lox on toast with capers and dill and Danish cheese shavings.

A ship along the canal by the cobblestones walkway.

Today’s Tip: If you get a chance to strike out on your own at the end of a tour, do it! That way you get the freedom to explore WITH the facts you learned from your guide. Just be absolutely certain there’s enough time to get back to the ship!

Amsterdam – Above the Water, Below the Sea

Amsterdam was a great surprise to me. I had always thought of Venice as the city of canals; it had never entered my mind that I should find similar conditions in a Dutch town. – James Weldon Johnson

It is dark when the sail in commentary begins. I hurry to the Crows Nest and grab a coffee. We are already in the canal. I’ve missed the locks, and civilization surrounds us. Good morning Amsterdam.

Morning rush hour has begun – below the canal

There are a LOT of wind generators here! Morning rush hour has begun. Given the importance of marine traffic, the busy highways dive under the canal in tunnels, rather than over it on bridges. The soft Sandy mud wouldn’t likely support the weight of a bridge that large anyway.

Buildings, even large ones, are supported by pilings driven deep into the mud below. And there are canals everywhere. I’ve always known that Amsterdam lies below sea level, about two meters, in fact. Yet somehow the profusion of canals and pilings driven into mud surprise me.

The fact that a building this size rests on wooden posts is mind boggling

There are a lot of river cruise boats here. It seems a little early for them, but preparations for their season is underway. David and I had a river cruise booked for the summer of 2020. Needless to say, it didn’t happen. It left me with a deep curiosity about them.

Long, low river cruise boats wait for their season

We’re in Amsterdam for two days for Holland America’s 150th Anniversary celebration. Today we have a morning visit to the annual Keukenhoff Tulip festival. The evening is devoted to a Gala dinner and celebration. Tomorrow? Let’s wait and see what that brings.

Once on the bus, we’re off to see some tulips! It’s cold today, and they’ve had a late spring here. I hope this hasn’t held the blooms back too much. Our guide assures us there will be blooms to see. He tells us that the festival runs for six weeks, this being week three. In the fall, the tulips are planted at mixed depths of 10, 20, and 30 cm. This causes the bulbs to mature at different times for a steady succession of blooms. We pass canals, and fields, and more canals, control

Gates for canals, and lift bridges over canals. The land here is flat. Very, very flat. And green, and fertile. Being below sea level is a blessing and a curse together.

As we near Keukenhof, I see fields of brightly coloured stripes. They look like a child’s crayon box. These are tulips, in full bloom, as many as the heart could possibly desire.

The bus pulls in and parks in a special lot for buses. I note the lane number. There are many lanes of parked buses. The four full of Holland America passengers are barely a drop in the bucket here.

The festival takes about 7.5 million flowering bulbs. Tulips share the garden displays with other flowers, but all the flowers are from Dutch bulbs. As well as outside gardens there are six large pavilions, a working windmill, a canal boat cruise, a maze, and a host of other attractions.

Greetings from Vermeer’s ‘Girl with the Pearl Earing’

Once inside, the solid colour fields turn to a riot of mixed shades

Or beds under planted in coordinating shades

The fields I see from the windmill are hyacinths in pinks and purples. Their strong sweet scent is overwhelming near the mill, and the grounds at the far side of the festival still carry the hyacinth scent, but a a much lower level.

Fields of hyacinths seen through the turning mill

Looking up in the top of a working windmill

And part of the wooden shoe display below

We tour the orchid pavilion, and one for special displays, but time simply runs out and we head for the bus with much unseen. Somehow, we have barely scratched the surface.

On the way back to the bus, I stop at a food truck offering ‘Frites’, or fries as we call them. They are fresh, hot, crisp on the outside and soft and fluffy inside. They are from potatoes grown for flavour, not for transportation qualities. They are amazing.

The bus takes us back through the fields, past trees budding into leaf and past more canals.

Once aboard, we get ready for tonight’s Gala. Dinner features items like lobster and scallop appetizers. Full size scallops, not tiny ones. After dinner we regroup, and meet up later for the party. The sun sets and the party starts. The doors of the Lido pool deck open for the first time in two days. The area is transformed into a magical floral venue.

There is music, and free drinks, and canapés, and laughter. And speeches. Of course there are speeches. We are joined by the President of Holland America. His speech is short and sweet and to the point, congratulating the line on 150 years of operation. The man possesses the rare ability to stop talking when he no longer has more to say. That is a rare and welcome gift indeed!

The celebration runs late, and morning does not come early. At least, not for me.

David and I have a late breakfast and set off to explore Amsterdam. We buy tickets for a HOHO bus, which we catch across the road from the cruise terminal. Going anywhere here on foot involves dodging the bicycle traffic, which is far more dangerous than the cars. Vehicle traffic follows certain laws. Bicycle traffic rarely does this.

The bus takes us around the city, showing us landmarks and explaining the importance of the canals. There are a lot of canals. I’ve always thought of Venice as Europes canal city, but Amsterdam is certainly up there!

Maintaining a coastal city that’s below sea elevation is not easy! There’s an elaborate system of pumps and dams that keep the water level steady. It’s obvious why keeping the water level low is important. It’s also important not to let it get too low. The wooden pilings that support the building must be kept below the water. If the level drops and the pilings are exposed to air they will rot. So a careful balance is maintained. There is a row of houses called the Dancing Houses. With their pilings not driven deep enough, they began to shift, settle, and lean in different directions. The pilings are now supported to prevent further issues, but at a glance the houses do seem to be dancing.

The row of Dancing Houses – one leans forward, one leans back, one leans left, one leans right, one curtseys just a bit.

At the end of our tour, we moved on to the canal boat tour included in our ticket package. There is time in between to grab some of those Dutch frites again! Our canal tour boat is low, and glassed in like a greenhouse. It’s quite warm, which is pleasant on a cool day.

We see most of the same sights as on the HOHO bus, but from the water side. There are houseboats, and swans, and the underside of those bridges we drove over. Houseboats are some peoples answer to the housing crisis. They don’t pay property taxes as such, but the mooring fees are nearly as high.

The NEMOScience Museum, nicknamed The Titanic due to resembling a sinking ship

On the upper floor (deck) is a children’s play area and public viewing over Amsterdam

An hour later we are back on land, dodging bicycles as we walk back to the Zuiderdam. You know you’re getting close when you hear more English than Dutch!

The Zuiderdam sails away from Amsterdam, and Holland America enters its 151st year. We pass over the evening traffic and past the windmills moving water out of the city. While wind power is popular here, some of the turbines are for moving water, not power. There are still 1600 old-fashioned windmills in use. Before the new slim type there were 10,000. It’s not easy keeping a city above the water when it’s below the sea.

After a while we pass through the locks to the sea. The locks don’t just raise ships to sea level. They also keep the salt sea water from flooding the fresh water system of canals. This is what killed the farmland around lake Gatun in Panama when the Panama Canal was built.

Entering the locks on the fresh water canal

A strong north wind pushes the ship against one wall of the locks. Beyond them, people are strolling on the beach waiting for sunset. How they even stay standing up, I have no idea!

Pushed against the wall on the leeward side

Tomorrow will find us in Copenhagen, Denmark. Care to help me find Hans Christian Anderson’s Little Mermaid? See you there!

Senses of Amsterdam:

The sight of the fields and gardens of bright tulips of the Keukenhof festival.

The sound of bicycle bells ringing as a warning to make way.

The feel of the canal boat gliding through the water.

The smell of fields of hyacinths, perfuming the air for quite a distance.

The taste of Dutch frites. I will never roll my eyes when a Dutch person complains about North American French fries again!

The Zuiderdam docked in the canal with a river cruise boat on the other side.

Today’s Tip: When in Holland, beware the bicycle. They give no quarter.

Blankenberge, Belgium – Churches and Chocolates

We live in a world that is full of beauty, charm, and adventure. – Jawaharlal Nehru

Don’t even ask about sunrise this morning. For once, David and I are sleeping in. At 9 AM, I get a from Americano from the Crow’s Nest.

In the Crow’s Nest, I’m looking out at Zeebruge, the second largest seaport in Belgium. The outstanding feature is the number of wind turbines around the port and fading off into the foggy distance. Yes, it is foggy. It is also cold. I take my Americano back to bed and drink it where it’s warm and comfy.

Lines of wind generators fading into the cold mist.

Much later, we have finished breakfast and take the shuttle into the seaside holiday town of Blankenberge.

The houses we pass on the way tell us we’ve left England behind. And of course there are windmills, or wind turbines. These are probably ones I saw from the Crow’s Nest.

The trees we pass are just a little bit behind the ones in in Dover. There are planters full of fresh earth along the boulevard, but there are no flowers in them yet. As we move north, spring will probably keep stepping back a bit.

Our drop off is beside Saint Anthony’s Church. From the ship and sailor artwork inside and out, it seems to be dedicated to those at sea.

Near the church are planters like the ones I saw earlier, but these are filled with tulips and hyacinths in shades of pink. The perfume of the hyacinths fills the air – an olfactory tribute to the coming of spring. The church lawn has beds of Marguerite daisies, which make me think of my mother.

Across the other corner, the mood changes. There is the Blankenberge sign, big bold letters standing on the pavement. Beyond it is an amusement park, the beginning of a pedestrian promenade leading to the beach a few blocks away. The amusement park and its good stands are closed, awaiting warmer weather.

From stately to lively, the mood changes here.

Beyond them though, the shops along the way are open and welcoming the tourists. We are in port with a Princess ship, so there are lots of people here. There are also a lot of bicycles. I noticed on the drive here that this is a popular mode of transportation.

I’m hoping to find some Belgian Chocolate. From the proliferation of confectionary shops, I didn’t need to worry. We browse a number of shops. We buy chocolate at one, both to eat on board and to take home. In a fashion accessory shop I find a scarf that will be perfect for tomorrow’s Gala night.

Then we come to the stairs up to the beach. That sounds strange but trust me on this. The beach access is up from the surrounding streets.

There is a pair of carved lions at the foot of the stairs. It is a broad stairway, with a railing up the middle. The passing of time and tourists has worn a path in the most used part of the stone steps. Beneath the railings in the middle and on the sides, the stone treads are thicker and less worn.

At the top of the stairs, a cold wind hits us. The street below is protected by the broad berm between the city and the sea. Across the promenade is a wide beach of fine, soft sand.

One side of the buildings is on the promenade, the far side goes down to the street beyond.

There are stairs going down to the beach. The near strip of shore is taken up with clamshell shelters and white wooden changing houses. A few wooden beach cafes sit among them. Below that is the actual open beach.

Across the promenade, the lower floor of the buildings are restaurants and shops devoted to beach wear and activities. The shelters on shore and the shops above them are empty and closed. This is not the weather that attracts beach goers. One brave shop owner is open, advertising souvenirs and swimming accessories. He has clearly overestimated the hardiness of the visiting cruise ship passengers!

To the right, one brave beach shop is open.

After following the promenade for a while, I head down to the beach while David waits on a bench above. The sand is fine and soft. There are many small, black clam shells. I walk along the beach, collecting shells and a sample of sand. The only thing marring this are the tire tracks. Like Washington State in the US, vehicles are permitted to drive on the beach. While no vehicles are here now, the proliferation of tracks chewing up the beach detracts from it a bit.

Between here and the water, the effect is a dirt road. Otherwise, it’s a lovely beach!

I head back up to David on the promenade. We find our way back to the same stairs we came up. I could swear the stairs down to the street are longer than the ones down to the beach.

Back on the pedestrian avenue we stop at another chocolate shop to stock up on more Belgian Chocolate. Farther along David stops and picks up local beer for his buddies. By the time we get to St. Anthony’s and the shuttle, we have quite a load!

The shuttle takes us back past the houses and windmills and bridges that lift to let ships pass. At the port we get off the bus to go through security. We get on a new bus on the other side for the ride to the Zuiderdam.

The ship is still loading decorations and special supplies for tomorrow. We will be in Amsterdam for the 150th anniversary of Holland America. Big celebrations are planned. The Lido pool is closed off for secret preparations. You can hear drilling and sawing, so something big is afoot.

Before sail away, I go out on the upper deck for a last good look. From where I stand, I can see at least 32 windmills, most in lines that lead away and disappear into the mist. From the strength of the cold wind where I’m standing, wind power makes a lot of sense here. I watch a boat go through the lifted bridge before the cold wind drives me back inside.

Beaches in the distance, with change huts waiting for summer.

Tomorrow is the first of two days in Amsterdam. The day will begin with a trip to a tulip festival, and end with a formal dinner and party to celebrate the 150th anniversary.

The menu looks good, and there’s an open bar at the party! Wear something fancy, and I’ll save you a seat at our table!

Senses of Belgium:

The sight of lines of windmills stretching off into the distant mist. The sound of bicycle tires swooshing by on the avenue. The feel of the fine, soft sand of the beach. The smell of hyacinths in the planters by the church. The taste of the Belgian Chocolate praline seashells – you’ve never had them fresh until you’ve had them in Belgium!

Today’s Tip:

Remember a hat! Sun, rain, cold wind – hats make your day!

Portland, England – Stonehenge and Salisbury

As you move through this life… you leave marks behind, however small. And in return, life and travel leave marks on you. – Anthony Bourdain

Stonehenge, on a British spring morning.

We arrive in Weymouth Bay near Portland, England about 2 PM. We aren’t scheduled until tomorrow, so our berth is not available until morning. The storm that fought us across the English Channel has abated, but the sky, land, and water are all grey. A sullen rain comes and goes.

Suddenly the setting sun bursts through a narrow gap beneath the clouds. It is magnificent. This colourful strip of sky in the grey landscape is like a costumed Flamenco dancer on a bus full of nuns.

The Captain announces that due to nation wide general strike, our call to Le Havre and trip to Paris is cancelled. None of the ports in France will be open. So no sitting at a cafe sipping expresso and gazing at the Eiffel Tower in my future.

Instead, we will have an extra day in England. We are going to Dover. As soon as excursions come up, I book the one to Leeds Castle and Canterbury. Actually, I’m happy to have another day in England. Frankly, I could do with more.

Tomorrow will be long, and come early, so it’s off to bed.

After an early breakfast, David and I get ready for a tour to Stonehenge and Salisbury. On the ship, we are in Dorset. Stonehenge is in Wiltshire. We get to cover some territory today!We have a good seat in the bus today, right behind the rear exit with an expansive view. Our guide, Patrick, gives a continuous commentary. There is a big berm of pebbles to our left leaving port. It is too high to see over. This 18 mile berm is called Chesil Beach. It was formed over millennia by the Atlantic pushing pebbles up onto the beach.

Chesil Beach – a huge berm of pebbles pushed up by the sea over the years.

This 50 mile stretch of coast is known as the Jurrasic Coast. This is due to the dinosaur fossils found in this stretch as the cliffs erode into the sea. In medieval times, these huge stone bones were thought to be the skeletons of dragons.

Streets of Portland – still quiet in the morning.

We drive past miles and miles of tree lined fields and farms. The landscape reminds me of growing up in southern Ontario, and the farmland near Guelph.

Reminiscent of southern Ontario in spring.

The buildings though, that’s different. There are big stone houses and small stone cottages. They have mullion panes windows and tiled roofs. Some even have thatched roofs. Thatched roofs offer superior insulation, but require constant and expensive maintenance.

Thatched roofs. Picturesque, but expensive to maintain.

Spring has come, in spite of the cold. Trees are coming into leaf and blossom. Gorse and hawthorn bloom in the hedgerows. There are daffodils and primroses by the side of the road. Some of the sheep have lambs at their side.

As we near Stonehenge, Patrick points out low mounds in some of the fields. These are barrows, burial chambers of the Stone Age. The more important you were, the closer to the henge you could be buried.

We reach the car park, get down from the coach. The parking area and visitors facilities are not within sight of the stones themselves.

We all pack into a shuttle bus, which drives us to the sight I’ve dreamed of all my life. That said, I’ve been warned by many people not to expect too much. You can’t wander around the stones anymore. They are fenced, and you view them from a long way back. I’m braced to fight the crowds for a chance to peer at the stones through a chain link fence.

You shuttle to the henge. Or walk briskly for 45 minutes. Time dictated using the shuttle.

As the shuttle tops the rise, I get my first look at Stonehenge. It stands clear and fenceless against the sky. People gather in clumps at points some distance from the stones. There are also wide gaps, where the henge can be seen with no crowd at all.

Yes, there are people, but not blocking the view of, or through, Stonehenge.

The fence I was dreading turns out to be a single piece of rope knee high at most. It is more of an indicator than anything else, and doesn’t obstruct the view in the least.

The terrible, intrusive fence all the fuss is about. It’s not quite knee high, and I’m short!

We walk up from the shuttle drop as Patrick tells us about the history and significance of Stonehenge and its surroundings.

Although it sits on a grassy hill, the earth below is chalk. At the time Stonehenge was built, it was on a gleaming white chalk hill with no grass. There is also only about a third of the original stones left. Over time, vandals and souvenir hunters hauled away masses of rock. Most of what is missing though was taken as building material by local farmers. The National Trust own the site, and a great deal of the surrounding farmland. Standing there, I can see sheep, pastures, woods, and a little bit of road. No other reminder of modern times is seen.

Originally, there was a full outer circle and an inner semi circle of taller stones.

The fields are dotted with barrows. Some barrows have sheep playing and grazing on them. The dead may own the darkness below round, but the sun and life own the surface above.

Whoever lies in this barrow was important enough to be buried a stones throw from Stonehenge. The sheep don’t care.

There is an arrow on the ground, marking the path of the rising sun at summer solstice and winter solstice. Although people aren’t allowed within the circle, there are two exceptions. At Summer Solstice and again at Winter Solstice, up to 700 practising Druids, or Wiccans as they are now called, are allowed to conduct a ceremony inside the henge. I’m not sure what the proof of credentials are for attending. It’s not just the first 700 at the gate go in.

The arrow shows the path of the winter solstice sunrise into Stonehenge. This line also traces the path to the entrance, now a level break in the ditch.

Patrick shows us the ditch around the stone circle. He also explains some building methods used. The huge standing stones sit partly underground. They were rolled on logs, like the figures on Easter Island. Once they were slid into their pit, it was easier to stand them up. The stone tops were moved up a ramp of earth, which was later removed.

Moved and shaped by hand with stone tools.

The top of each standing stone had a round stone nub. The top stone had a corresponding hole. Fitting these together helped lock the stones together.

The nub on top of the standing stone was designed to fit into the cap stone for stability

But in the here and now, most of the stones are badly weathered. Ravens perch on the standing stones and fly around them. One comes close to my feet, staying just inside the rope they know humans can’t cross. Another has twigs in his beak. I watch as he, and another raven, carry twigs to a space between a standing stone and its cap stone. They are building a nest!

He only came closer if I wasn’t taking a picture.

In spite of the number of people, I’m enchanted to be here. The crowd is much less intrusive than I expected. When you look at the henge, the people sort of melt away. But we have to return to the bus. Time is passing and Salisbury awaits.

As we approach Salisbury, the out outstanding feature is the tall spire of Salisbury cathedral. Built in the 13th century it is the largest and tallest church tower in England. Other attempts to build, as large aspire resulted in collapse.

Patrick takes us to see the cathedral. On the way, we meet the Right Honourable Mayor of Salisbury. He is wearing the gold chain of office, which is well over one hundred years old. He is coming from an event hosting other mayors from surrounding areas, and was crossing the square when he saw us.

Just chillin’ with the Mayor of Salisbury. And yes, it WAS chilly!

We continue on to the cathedral. As we enter the outer wall of the cathedral grounds, the bell begins to ring. I am here, in England, as the spring blossoms open, listening to the bells of Salisbury Cathedral. Into the cathedral we go.

The cathedral wall ahead. The gates stand open now, but once prevented townsfolk from visiting the cathedral – and monks from visiting town.

The cathedral stands on a one foot foundation, and otherwise sits on gravel which is full of water. This water rises and falls with the river levels. A change in water level under the cathedral causes the foundation to expands and contract. Patrick shows us narrow stone pillars that show warping from this happening in the past.

That scenic water plays havoc with the cathedrals foundation!

There is a spot in the floor of the cathedral where the water level is measured, like taking soundings on a ship. A woman is taking a measurement while we are there. The river levels are high right now, so the draft is carefully monitored right now. The river level can be raised or reduced as needed by use of canals and sluice gates.

The sub floor water level is monitored with a dip stick.

The inside of the cathedral is beautiful and ornate.

There are a LOT of people interred inside the cathedral itself. I try desperately NOT to walk on grave stones, but it is simply not possible. Eventually I give up.

The inside is essentially paved with tombstones!

The original Magna Carta, signed by King John, is kept here. I go into the small, dark chamber it is kept in. Photography is not allowed. This is to minimize exposure to light, which would damage the document.

Now we have free time to shop and find lunch. David and I head back to Main Street. Patrick had talked about Cornish Pasties, and we head to the Cornish Bakery he had pointed out. They have a selection of fresh baked pasties, and they smell divine! David orders a traditional Cornish pastie, and I get something resembling a frittata. I also get a GF brownie.

We eat lunch on bench around center pillar of the last remaining Market Cross of Salisbury. As we eat, we watch the people and traffic along the streets of Tudor buildings. These are the real thing, not replicas.

Nearby are some market stalls, which wecheck out. The Saturday market is just starting to close, although many stalls are still open. One vendor sells olives. An olive has somehow escaped, and is pursued by a determined pidgeon. Whenever he pecks the olive, he doesn’t like it. When he drops it, it rolls away and the pursuit begins again. That is his olive, and he’s not giving up easily! One lady is about to pack

Up, but shows me a variety of umbrellas with unique designs, and that sensible inside out way of opening. They are double layered, and very sturdy. I buy one with a large daisy on it, my souvenir of England. It opens backwards, which is easier going through doors or getting into cars.

We return to the bus for the drive back to Portland. Fields and hedgerows, sheep and thatch roofed cottages flash by.

Patrick tells us of Portland’s past as a smuggling center for highly taxed luxury goods from overseas. In later years, and today, it is famous for Portland stone. This comes from Portland Island across from where we are docked. Many famous, and Royal, buildings in London are made of Portland stone.

We say goodbye to Patrick on the pier, where the Portland Rock Choir are performing to say goodbye. So now I have been to Stonehenge. All the stories, all the legends, and we have seen it now. All in all, I’d much rather lose Paris than Stonehenge. All’s well that ends well.

The Portland Rock Chior bids us farewell.

The Zuiderdam sails away while we’re eating dinner, not long after we get back aboard.

Tomorrow should find us in Dover, and on a trip to Leeds Castle and Canterbury. Come help me watch for those famous white cliffs!

Senses of Stonehenge / Salisbury:

The sight of the big stone ring of Stonehenge. The sound of the bells of Salisbury Cathedral. The feel of the cold morning air, even with several sweaters! The smell of Cornish Pasties in the bakery. The taste of the fresh baked chocolate brownie eaten under the Salisbury market cross.

Today’s Tip:

Local currency! Some countries don’t take foreign money, and some market vendors don’t take credit cards. A little local currency sometimes goes a long way!

Dover, England – Canterbury Tales

The cure for anything is salt water – sweat, tears, or the sea. – Karen Blixen

The Canterbury of Chaucer and Thomas Beckett

I wake up to sunrise over the White Cliffs of Dover. We are entering Weymouth, to dock in Portland, County Kent, England. I’m too excited to throw on a coat. I’m freezing out here – it is literally meat locker temperature, and the wind is up. I’m also too excited to go inside.

The White Cliffs of Dover – still grey before sunrise.

On top of the cliffs is Dover Castle, once the base of the famous Dunkirk rescue of allied troops in WWII.

The dim cliffs gradually brighten in the morning light. The ferry to Calais, France is just heading out to cross the English Channel.

Dover Castle above, the ferry to Calais, France below.

After breakfast, David and I bundle up and and board the bus for a day exploring Leeds Castle and the town of Canterbury. Near the shore, the chalk soil that makes the white cliffs shine is everywhere. Even cuts through small banks on the roadside are bright white. We drive along past the fields, hedgerows, and old villages of the style we saw yesterday. The daffodils seem to be farther along than the ones in Dorset. Our guide tells us that Kent is known as the garden of England.

About an hours drive through the English countryside brings us to Leeds Castle. The castle is still in use, not a ruin.

Being a tourist attraction pays for upkeep.

The prime draw, however, is the grounds. The gardens are extensive, and just coming into spring. The birds are welcoming spring with a riot of song. Everywhere we see is underscored with birdsong! There are massive chestnut trees beginning to unfurl their leaves and showing tight bud clusters that will soon be blooms. The leaf buds on the oaks are still so tight that the trees are identified by their textured bark and gnarled branches.

One of the swans approaches us on the path. Unlike a goose, he seems to enjoy humans and poses while many admirers take his picture. I’ve never seen a swan out of water before, and the size and sturdiness of his feet surprise me. In fact, I hadn’t realized just how big a swan really is!

And under the trees, the spring flowers are blooming in profusion. They carpet the woodland like a Persian rug. Daffodils, primroses, bluebells and more hug the ground. Forsythia and flowering current stand above them. And there is mud. The path itself is pavers, clean and mainly dry. Stepping off it is at your peril. We’ve had relatively little rain this whole trip. The soft squish of dark, loamy garden mud underfoot is an actual novelty. I try to stay on the path for the most part for the sake of my shoes.

Then we come to the castle. And it is a real castle.

And across the bridge to the castle entry.

Inside, much of the castle is private. There is a guided public tour through parts of it with period furniture as it was restored circa 1920. This old stone castle, still intact and living, is even more fascinating than old stone ruins!

Another view of the castle from the castle.

On our way out we visit the gift shop. There are a lot of lovely items, but they travel in a higher financial circle than I do.

Leaving the castle, we move on to the former stables. These now house a restaurant, and other exhibits including a dog collar collection.

The former stables now house collections.

The back of the stables leads to a formal garden with flower beds outlined in low hedges. Farther on is a tall hedge maze – a real, actual garden maze we don’t have time for that, and don’t try.

We make our way back to the bus, where we wait for a couple who DID try the maze. Now we’re off to Canterbury. After our drop off, our guide walks us to the Cathedral gate.

We now have free time for lunch and exploring Canterbury. Or we have time to tour the Cathedral, which is not included in the tour.

The outside of Canterbury Cathedral is undergoing maintenance.

For us, the town wins. The buildings evoke the time of Chaucer, the father of English literature. His book, The Canterbury Tales, was the first book ever published in English. Books were for the aristocracy, and written in French. Religious tomes were written in Latin. The everyday language of the common man simply didn’t make it into print.

Years ago, a guide talking about old cities said don’t look at the ground floor, look up.

To save time, David and I grab a quick lunch at one of many take away places. We choose the wrong one. The less said the better. Not every lunch can be a golden moment.

Only after a sub par lunch did I look at this photo of a fine dog and see the ‘Gluten free cakes baked in house’ sign I had walked past.

At least it’s fast, and leaves more time to explore the streets of Canterbury that simply drip with history. And charm. And droves of tourists. But that’s fine, and these streets were always busy and crowded, so the atmosphere remains.

I could wander for hours among these original medieval buildings with mullion paned windows and overhanging upper floors.

Passing a fish and chip take away place that smells like heaven stirs some regret, but today wasn’t about seafood anyway.

Just as it’s time to turn back, I come to the house of the Franciscan Order. St. Frances, patron saint of animals. Their gardens are extensive, and famous, and lie just beyond the far door. There isn’t time to do them justice, and the entry fee is too high for a quick peek. There is, however, a small selection of items for sale. The proceeds help support the garden. I buy two tea towels and a canvas tote bag for half the cost of one tea towel at Leeds Castle. And these are made in Britain!

The Canterbury Pilgrims Hospital from the 12th century.

The order of St. Francis, the Greyfriars

The tote bag in the upper left of the window left with me.

But now we have to get back to the bus, and arrive at the pick up point in good time.

We drive back a different way, to see the village of Sandwich. This was part of the lands of the Earl of Sandwich who invented the sandwich as we know it, as a way of eating without leaving his desk.

The buildings are old and quaint without the crowds of Canterbury. The streets are extremely narrow and the turns are sharp. We all admire our driver’s skill at getting a bus through there. The other bus on our tour is just a little longer and can’t make the corners that ours does. So we get an extra treat the other bus doesn’t!

We come back to Dover past the castle and down the hill. We’re late in port tonight, and see sunset over the town beyond the southern line of the cliffs. The coast of France is only twenty seven miles away at this point. When full dark comes, I can see the lights of France in the distance. David brings our mini telescope out on deck. With that you can clearly see the blanket of towns lights over small hills. And in the end that’s as close to going to France as I’m going to get. Now we finally have a clear night, I also see the Big Dipper and the Northern Star for the first time in months. We are home, in some way.

Dover Castle, where the Dunkirk Evacuation was based.

Tomorrow we are in the port of Zeebruge, Belgium. Come along and sample some Belgian Chocolate with me!

Senses of Canterbury:

The sight of the white cliffs of Dover shining in the afternoon sun. The sound of songbirds in the castle gardens. The feel of mud squishing underfoot. The smell of the fresh new green of spring. The taste of shepherds pie at dinner on the ship.

The cliffs really DO shine white in the afternoon sun!

Today’s Tip:

Eat fresh and local whenever you can. It’s part of the experience. Sometimes, it just doesn’t work out. Don’t worry if it doesn’t.

A Coruna, Spain – Of Towers and Tentacles

Travel is so important in its capacity to expand the mind – you get to see how other cultures live, challenge your senses and try different cuisines. Natalie Dormer

After a stormy night, I’m a little surprised to find the coffee gang out back on the deck as usual. Our table has been tucked into a sheltered corner, which cuts the wind.

Soon we see the lighthouse come into view. The Tower of Hercules is the oldest in use lighthouse in the world. It has been in operation since the Romans built it, probably on the site of an old Phoenician tower during the 1st century AD.

We come around the point into the relative shelter of the harbour. Today is a wander day, not a tour day. David and I have breakfast and wait for the rush to die down. We head out the gangway to shore, and step into town. It’s right there. As usual, we want to explore Old Town. I consult a map and we stride off.

It soon becomes apparent that the area we’re heading into is more town and less old. I have picked the opposite direction from what we want. After consulting maps.me, I find that while Old Town is far behind, Orzan Beach facing into the Atlantic Ocean is just over the hill on the street we’re on. And of course there are interesting buildings and people along the way.

We come out to the road along the ocean, and the Paseo Maritimo, the promenade along the shoreline. While David stays up on the promenade, I go down to the beach. This is no swimming beach! The breakers are huge, crashing in from the Atlantic. It is also cold, but refreshing. The surf roars like a train. The wind off the sea carries a medley of marine smells. I gather a sample of sand. Where the waves have thrown angled banks up, there are small drifts of courser sand, almost small pebbles. There is a lot of sea glass. It is also in small pebbles.

Warmly dressed people are walking their dogs. The dogs run along the beach off leash, enjoying the freedom, and the wind, and the sounds of the surf. In a scene played out on beaches around the globe, the owners are chasing their pet down the beach calling ‘Aqui, aqui.’. But the dog has the call of the ocean in its ears and nose, and no interest in civilization or coming ‘Aqui’. My sympathies are with the dogs. David knows that until the beach fever runs its course, I am unlikely to come Aqui either.

Eventually I do, and we continue along the winding shoreline. Maps.me says we are not far from the Tower of Hercules, although we can’t see it.

Then, around a corner, there it is. Just across a narrow inlet is a park, and the ancient Roman lighthouse which is now a UNESCO World Heritage site.

And across the inlet is the Tower of Hercules

There is a special feeling you get this close to something this historic. There is so much history here, yet it still does the everyday job of casting light over the water to mark the safety of the harbour for vessels at sea.

The square part is the original Roman tower. The top was reconstructed a few centuries ago.

Legend says the giant Hercules defeated is buried underneath the tower.

What is that cave below the tower, anyway?

We walk along the road that partially circles the tower. There are several tour buses in the parking lot, so we don’t go in. I prefer to look at the tower, not from it. We decide to return to the ship by continuing around, which is shorter than going back the way we came.

Spring is coming, in spite of the cold wind.

Still in sight of the tower, we come to a small restaurant. We choose an outdoor table, in spite of the chill. With the help of an English copy of the menu, I order grilled octopus and a glass of white wine. David gets a burger and Coke. The burger is thick and handmade. The bun looks like it is, too. The fries are thick and fresh cut.

I have three tentacles which are split. The outsides are crispy, and the inside meat is tender. It comes with potatoes tossed in paprika, and some kind of greens. And of course the glass of Galician white wine.

When we are done, we head off again, checking for the shortest route. Maps.me comes up with an interesting walking route here. Following our electronic guide, we plunge off the main road.

The most interesting thing about the streets on our route? They aren’t streets!

Our route leads us down a side street, then down lane ways and across plazas and even down staircases. This is far more interesting than if we stuck to the main road!

At the point where we can see the Zuiderdam between the buildings, I look at the map and realize we are at most two blocks from Old Town!( remember Old Town? Our original destination four hours ago?)

This is what we were looking for to start with!

Passing through an archway between buildings, we find ourselves in the Praza de Maria Pita. A statue of this local heroine is in the middle of the square.

At the far side is city hall, an impressive building with a red roof that shines like copper when the sun hits it. There are tall planters with layers of purple and white petunias across the front of the building, and flower boxes around the square.

Beyond city hall is a church in one direction, and shops with apartments above in the other.

By now my legs say they have walked enough for one day. Another laneway brings us back to the road along the harbour. The buildings here have sunrooms built onto the existing stonework of the balconies. This creates a beautiful and delicate looking facade of white wood and glass all along the street.

The delicate sunroom fronts over the original stone faces, added in a later era.

Now we have reached the terminal, and the Zuiderdam waiting.

Getting ready for dinner, I discovered I can see the top of Tower of Hercules from the upper upper deck. I can also see old fortification wall and Santo Anton Castle on the point just beside us. So in the end, we caught the sights we thought we missed after all.

After sunset, I go out again to watch the light from the oldest lighthouse in the world flashing across the town to our ship.

A last look at the Tower of Hercules from the deck.

At this point the Captain comes on to tell us a storm over English Channel has delayed our departure until 11 PM. We will be skipping our scheduled port of Brest, France and heading directly for Portland England, instead.

So hang on to your hat, it looks like another bumpy ride tomorrow! See you in England the next day, when we go visit Stonehenge!

Senses of A Coruna:

The sight of the Tower of Hercules and its light shining out over the sea. The sound of the huge Atlantic breakers booming on the beach and rock of the coast. The feel of the course sand, almost pebbles, scattered with sea glass. The smell of blossoms – spring has come to Spain, too! The taste of fresh grilled Octopus.

Today’s Tip: Some of the best days are the ones that don’t go as planned. Learn to go with the flow.

Lisbon, Portugal – And a Village Fit for a Queen

Try new things, meet new people, and look beyond what’s right in front of you. Those are the keys to understanding this amazing world we live in. – Andrew Zimmerman

We are still at sea when the sun rises over the coast of Portugal. Our port today is city of Lisbon, which lies on the Tagus River, not on the Atlantic Ocean. It’s after breakfast when we enter the river. I go to the Crow’s Nest to watch our approach. It’s too cold and windy to stay outside!

I join the commentary about sailing into the Tagus in the warmth of the crows nest. We pass under the bridge with Lisbon’ Christ statue at the south end. The bridge is in the style of San Francisco’s Golden Gate Bridge. The immense statue is in the style of Rio’s Christ the Redeemer. A unique feature of the bridge are two metal traffic lanes that create an audible hum as the ship passes beneath.

The bridge that hums, and the Christ statue in the distance

But then we dock, and the rest is pure Lisbon. We are overlooking old town, with those beautiful old churches and cathedral. There is a brand new and stylish cruise terminal building on the waterfront. Much of the interior is still under construction.

Our tour is in a Mercedes-Benz coach much to my delight. It is the most comfortable vehicle I’ve travelled in this entire trip, and everything works!

It takes us north and inland to the medieval village of Obidos. By tradition, Óbidos has always belonged to the queen of Portugal, and always benefited from such a grand patroness. It was well cared for, and had a remarkable aqueduct that stands to this day. It had advantages most villages of its size lack, in addition to having recognition of women in positions of status unusual for the time.

The aqueduct. Most villages didn’t rate such refinements.

We start along the commercial waterfront region. The centuries old buildings have tile roofs in various stages of decay. As a roof edges, the beams begin to bow, causing a sag in the middle of the roof. In long buildings with good beams and bad this causes a strange ripple effect as like a wave passing over the tiles. In time, the beams can no longer support the weight of the tiles and the roof collapses.

Hard to see, but old tile roofs in various stages of collapse.

Leaving Lisbon, we pass through farmland as we make our way into the hills. The farms here are quite small, only a few acres each. Much of the farming is fruit. The main crops are apples and pears. Some orchards grow a particular type of cherry used to make a specialty liquer produced only in this region. There are also vineyards. It is spring here, and the orchards are just beginning to leave out with sheltered areas in leaf and more exposed areas still sporting bare branches.

This hilly region on the edge of the Atlantic is extremely windy. The small farms once had windmills of their own. These are now just short round stone towers at the tops of hills.

This stubby tower is actually the base of an old windmill.

A few have been restored, and have the blades of the windmill on top. Most are simply stubby bare stone towers, like abandoned sentry posts.

On a modern note, there are many very many tall, modern wind generators on the hills. Andalusia has wind in plenty, and tapping into this ever renewable power source makes sense!

There are also large tracts of pine and eucalyptus forest. From the size of the trunks none of the trees are very old. They also all seem to be about the same age. On distant hills, I can see patches of different size trees. These are obviously grown and harvested like a long-term crop.

Pine and eucalyptus forests in varying stages.

We reach the village and the bus drops us off. It Hass to park elsewhere and will pick us up later. Our guide takes us through the village walls.

The cobblestones underfoot are extremely slick. I am thankful that we are not here when it is raining. I still have David’s fall in Puerto Rico on slick wet. Couple stones in mind.

We are taken to the church of Saint Mary.

The inside of the church is decorated mainly in blue tiles. She tells us that this is a great feature of Portugal. The century of the tile work can generally be told by the nature of the tiles themselves. The interior of the church is in blue and white tile. This is a feature of the 17th century. At this time it was in high fashion to have tile work that emulated the Chinese blue and white pottery which was popular as roots to China were explored.

The inside of the church, with a worn stone staircase.

She now tells us that we have an hour and a half of free time to explore the village. This is a tourist village, with shops and cafés, and locally made items for sale.

There is a great deal of Cork, in the form of purses, wallets hats, shoes, and even jackets. These items are specialty of Portugal. Many shops sell knitted ponchos like the one that I bought in Madeira. These are also a specialty of Portugal.

Cork items. Incredibly soft and supple, and reportedly easy to clean.

There is also a liquer called ginja made from sour cherries. One store is giving out samples and I am taken by the sample and buy a small bottle. It is very intense and not overly sweet like some liqueurs are. I resist buying the dark chocolate shot glasses that go with it, which may have been a mistake.

There are many flowers, and in some gardens up against the wall roses are blooming. Their sweet smell perfumes the spring air around me.

Given the region’s medieval history, many of the stores also sell little wooden replica swords. One shop sells more realistic replicas of swords and other weapons.

It also has shirts of actual chain mail, which fascinate me no end. I have been absolutely entranced by the chain mail sections of our jewellery lessons so it really catches my attention. Reluctantly, I have to admit that there is no way a shirt of chain mail is going to meet the weight limitations on my flight home from Fort Lauderdale.

I now have the skills to make this! Do I have the patience? Hmmmm……

Continuing up the street we come to a former church, which is now a bookstore.

Church/ bookstore at the top of the street.

To our right is a castle, but entrance is not possible today. However, the outer walls are quite interesting

Heading back down the hill I stop in at a store and buy a cork purse at another shop. I buy a cork hat. It is now time to get back to the bus.

The drive back to the ship is much quieter than the drive to the village. A number of people are sleeping. We head back past the windmills and orchards and forests of eucalyptus and pine.

When we reach the outskirts of Lisbon, or Lisboa, as it is called locally, the traffic becomes heavier. We drive back on through the suburbs and past the foot of the Vasco de Gama bridge that reaches 18 km to the other side of the Tagus at this wide point near the bay.

Lisbon end of the 18 kilometre bridge across the bay.

Once back aboard, we have dinner as the sun sets over Lisboa. Then the lights of old town come on, lighting up the cathedral and churches.

It is beautiful here, and I would come back in a heartbeat.

We have a day at sea, and then return to one final port in Spain. This is the northern tip of Spain and features the tower of Hercules, which is the oldest existing functioning lighthouse in the world. So when you get there, I’ll have a light on for you. See you in A Coruña, Spain!

Senses of Portugal

The sight of the redeemer statue above the bay across from Lisboa. The sound of the traffic on the bridge making a humming noise as you sail underneath. The feel of slippery, uneven cobblestones worn smooth by centuries of being polished by feet . The smell of roses on the walls of Obodos. The taste of sour cherry liqueur, made locally from special cherries.

Hand painted tiles, also a Portuguese specialty.

Today’s Tip:

Bathrooms: On tours, these can be few and far between. Judge your fluid intake accordingly. You want to be hydrated, not flooded!

Cadiz, Spain – Crypts and Candies

Wasn’t it extraordinary to be in the world right now, wandering around in a wonderful adventure. – Jostein Gaarder

It’s Easter morning in Cadiz, Spain! Actually, it’s Easter everywhere, but Cadiz is where we’ll spend it. It’s dark when we dock. The moon is up and just off full. The cathedral is right behind the ship, and still illuminated with blue lights. Yes, this is Europe!

There will be parades and special services, and odds are that the stores won’t be open. Although with all the people coming into tow, it’s possible that shops and cafes will be open. Only banks, businesses, and major retailers will be closed.

Again, David and I are doing our own thing today. We have a long, leisurely breakfast and let the crowds clear. The ship is parked right on the old town waterfront.

Looking away from old town from the upper deck.

We wander out through the terminal gate. There is a lot to see. There is a HopOnHopOff bus loading at the bus stop right beside us. The price is reasonable, and includes admission to the cathedral later in the day. Being Easter Sunday, the cathedral is closed for tours until 1:45 PM. When the Easter morning celebrations are over, we can go.

The Hop On Hop Off. We’ve used this particular company in a number of cities on several continents.

Old Cadiz is on a small peninsula. The bus circles this. We are on the open upper deck. The Easter morning Cathedral bells are loud and clear. I take the tour earbuds out to concentrate.

An interesting sculpture across from the bus stop.

I drink in the morning air, laden with the scent of blossoms and fresh pastries, depending what we pass. The bells of the cathedral and smaller churches ring through Cadiz. The trees along the boulevards have just burst into spring bloom. This is more than worth missing the commentary for.

The trees are bursting into bloom today.

No clue what this building is – I was listening to bells.

The bus takes us along the back of the cathedral and the ancient Roman theater.

It is low tide, and we pass the stony shores of Playa de La Caleta, with Castillo de San Sebastián out on the point.

We pass the expansive sandy beach of Playa Victoria, packed with visitors and residents enjoying the sun.

We return to the original cruise stop, passing the larger Costa Venezia and a glimpse of another cruise ship behind it.

After lunch on board, we head out to find the Cathedral on foot. We walk to the Plaza de Espana, get our bearings, and take the most direct route through narrow streets to the cathedral.

As we go, I can hear the parade with the beat to signal the men supporting the religious floats which way to go. I never do see the floats and the parade, just hear the echos around corners.

The stands are still there, but the Easter parades are long gone.

We are just in time to meet our group to enter the cathedral. Like Malaga, this is a self guided tour with wifi audio.

We wait for our group to go in on the left, avoiding the big line for tickets on the right.

Also like Malaga, we do not have wifi, so this is no use to us. The cathedral is similar, but different. There is more light coming in from above, amazing the whole cathedral brighter.

Much more natural light in this cathedral.

There is coloured marble at the first five feet or so of the columns. Where light and air have reached the marble, it has weathered and dulled to a rough texture over the centuries. In corners where the marble has always been protected from sun, drafts, and the hands of passersby, it is smooth and shiny as if still new.

The marble is dull and pitted where sun and pollution have had access over the years

Yet still smooth and shiny in sheltered areas.

But best of all, there is a crypt. And I can go down there. The crypt is cool but not cold. There is a dome like an inverted shallow bowl from which passages and side chambers lead.

Those interred here include prominent citizens, famous artists, and of course church officials.

At one point, I cross under the wide shallow dome by myself. Suddenly I hear loud footsteps right behind me. I stop to let them pass, and they stop too. Turning, I see no one is there. When I start walking, the footsteps begin again. I give a short whistle. A voice just behind my ear whistles the same note, just a little louder. No one else seems to hear this. My invisible companion follows me to the edge of the dome and abruptly stops. I watch others cross, with none I can hear, and watch their reactions. The acoustics of the dome must create a loud echo that is only heard in the precise spot the sound originates from.

The acoustical dome. I thought the man in the middle was looking. I realized later that he was listening.

And passages, mainly closed off, leading deeper in.

I go up the stairs and rejoin David in the cathedral.

It’s time to head out and check out a few more streets before heading back. The plaza is still full of seats and barricades from the morning’s services. There men pass us carrying standards and flags back to the cathedral. The parades must be over now.

The stands in the plaza, and the Byzantine church beyond.

Wandering down narrow cobblestone streets, we find a confectionary shop and patisserie. They have delicate looking meringues, and candied fruits. I pick up a meringue, a candied apricot, and a couple of candies orange slices. This is my Easter treat.

A delightful confectionary shop, with a delightful proprietor.

We walk slowly back to the ship, passing fountain and lines of blossoming trees. People are enjoying the sunny afternoon, and the flowers are beautiful! I present a selection of blossoms as your Easter bouquet!

Back on board, we sit down to baked ham for Easter dinner.

Tomorrow finds us in Lisbon, our only port on mainland Portugal. We’re heading inland to the medieval town Obodos, traditionally owned by the Queen of Portugal. I’ll save you a seat on the bus, and see you in the morning!

Senses of Cadiz:

The sight of the moon over old Cádiz at sail in, with the cathedral still lit from below. The sound of the cathedral bells on Easter morning. The feel of rough and smooth areas of marble, depending on the sun air exposure they’d had over the centuries. The smell of blossoms pastries in the air as the Sightseeing bus passed through them. The taste of candied orange slices and apricot from the Confiteria El Populo.

I know – I’m WAY too intrigued by the crypt.

Today’s Tip:

A Hop On Hop Off bus is a great way to get an overview of the sights in a new city. Donamfull loop, then decide what you’d like to explore in more depth. Your ticket often comes with discounts or free admissions to sights on the way. Take advantage of these, if you can!

Malaga, Spain – Europe is Discovered in 2023!

On a day when the wind is perfect, the sail just need to open and the world is full of beauty. – Rumi

The clocks turned ahead TWO HOURS last night, and when I finally wake up at 6:30, we are already in dock. I do get to witness my first sunrise in Europe, so I’m happy. Being of European heritage, it seems strange that this is the last of the world’s seven continents that I see for the first time.

It’s also exciting to see two other cruise ships in dock, at the same real cruise terminal. No waiting for fertilizer to be hosed off the pier! Soon I’ll take this for granted, but not yet.

Real cruise ships and a real cruise terminal!

David and I wait for the crowd to clear, and then head out. We take the shuttle to the port gate. It drives us past shops and waterfront, not through construction and commercial traffic like we’ve gotten used to.

We are dropped outside the gate in Paseo del Parque. I am surrounded by stunning buildings, rooted in history yet the core of life today at the same time. There is a park, and streets with horses and carriages for hire. I do not insist on a carriage ride. This may be a mistake, but surely other cities will offer the same.

The intriguing tower in front of us, which I could see from the ship, turns out to be the Cathedral de Santa Marie de La Encarnacion.

There lies the cathedral, straight ahead!

It’s Easter long weekend, and the line to buy entrance tickets is long. If I buy them online we could skip line and walk right in, but we do not have cell or wifi, so that’s out. The line behind us gets longer and longer. It’s lucky we came when we did.

The line moves slowly, but we get closer.

The line moves slowly, but this lets me examine a patch of outer wall that belonged to the original Basilica that stood on this sight. And finally we’re inside.

A portion of a more ancient structure is left exposed.

The entrance fee includes commentary for a self guided tour on your cell phone, but needs cell service or wifi. Cathedral has no wifi, we have no cell service. We self guide without the commentary.

We won’t know the details, but we can hunt for the next number on the tour.

The Cathedral is stunning, and is being prepped for Easter Sunday, which is tomorrow. On the columns are plaques depicting the stations of the cross.

Around the perimeter are Chapels dedicated to various Saints. In the Center is the main alter, and behind it the organ and choir.

We leave the cathedral, and walk up towards museum of Picasso.

A block away we find a sidewalk cafe. I order a cappuccino and gluten free chocolate almond cake. David gets a Diet Coke.

We are a block or two each way from the cathedral and the Picasso museum, and have a view of both. This narrow street is also perfect for people watching. On Easter Saturday, there’s lots of people to watch!

The tiled roof is the near edge of the Picasso museum. The entrance is at the far side.

When we move on, we discover much of the crowd is the line to enter the Picasso Museum. At the entrance this joins with an equally long line going the other way. We’ve done our time in line ups, so no. Just no!

Q: What is worse than a vacation with twin toddlers? A: When someone gives their brother a drum! BTW – those people beside the wall are in line for the Picasso museum

Instead, we wander along narrow cobblestone streets of boutiques and souvenir shops. We pass a church on the way, and also another Ale Hop store. There is a cow peering out, the twin to the one we saw in Arrecife.

Past the plaza is a Supermercado, where we buy chips. Beyond the square, I can see the walls of the old Fort farther away.

We head back, and stop at Bodegas El Pimpi, which was mentioned in the port talk. I look in, expecting to find a regular bar. Instead, it is a labyrinth of halls and stairways, with bars and cafes leading off them. David follows and we plunge in, twisting left or right, up or down.

Eventually emerging into the sunny patio out back

When we emerge, we are across a small plaza from the back steps to the Fort. The stairway to the fort winds up through a low scrub of rosemary. The smell is divine in the hot sun.

When we reach the top there is a viewpoint from which I can see across the whole city.

As stunning as the views are, I am even more enchanted by the green parrots flying above and below me. They are gathering nesting material which they are taking to a spot at the far end of the fort.

While I watch the parrots, David discovers that the top gate into the fort itself is locked.

Down we go to the Square far below. At the base of the fort, there is an old Roman amphitheater.

We walk around it and check the entrance into the fort. Here we find another line and another entrance fee. I also find a man with a guitar, playing and singing Spanish songs. It adds a fullness to the sight of the ancient stone seats of the amphitheater, and to the antics of the parrots above. I decide to give my money to the busker instead of the entrance fee booth.

I’m content with seeing the walls and the Roman amphitheatre and parrots. By now it’s time to head back. We cross the street to the Parque de Malaga along the side of the boulevard. There are a lot of interesting plants that have been imported for the gardens here.

I take one last look at the horses and carriages as we pass.

We come to the plaza where the shuttle bus will take us back to the ship. I thought we would spend about an hour walking around, and now I find that we have been out for four and a half hours.

The sight of old Europe has enchanted me completely. We’ve walked much farther than either of us planned. There has been a lot of stairs involved. My legs aren’t sure I’m their friend any more. From the ship, I can see the beach we didn’t get to. Lots of others did, by the look of it!

Tomorrow is another port in Spain, the city of Cádiz. It will be Easter Day. Bring your Easter bonnet, and see you there!

Senses of Malaga:

The sight of the architecture and living history of a European city, as seen for the first time.The sound of the man with the guitar singing Spanish songs outside the Fort. The feel of the stone of the outer walls of the Cathedral. The smell of masses and masses of rosemary in the sun. The taste of Cappuccino and chocolate almond cake at the sidewalk café between the Cathedral and the Picasso museum.

Today’s Tip:

Line ups for major attractions can be long, especially on holidays. Luckily, many attractions give the option of buying tickets online and bypassing the lineup. This lets you plan in advance, or even right when you get there. Just make sure you have internet!