A morning in Cadiz

I hadn’t been to Cadiz before, and neither had Mrs PBT’s, and for the pair of us this Atlantic facing port, close to the southern tip of Spain, was the furthest south in the country that either of us had visited. One of my work colleagues’ hails from a small village close to Cadiz and following his advice we decided to spend our time in the port, rather than book a place on the excursion to Seville. The latter is a two-hour coach ride away, so as the prospect of sitting on a bus for four hours didn’t appeal, we decided to leave the delights of Seville for another occasion.

It was a short walk from the ship to the exit from the port area, and whilst the sun was shining, and the temperatures high, there was a strong wind blowing which nearly caused my hat to disappear over the edge of the quay. A returning passenger handed us a map of the city, although we only needed to refer to it a couple of times, as the city seemed quite easy to navigate – at least in the immediate environs of the port.

First stop was a pavement café, facing the gateway to the docks, so we grabbed a table and ordered ourselves a coffee each. Mrs PBT’s didn’t want to walk too far, given her mobility issues which date back to her spell in intensive care, five years ago now, but as mentioned above, Cadiz seemed easy to navigate and find our way about. The city’s cathedral is reportedly well worth seeing, but as Eileen isn’t as fond of ecclesiastical buildings as I am, we decided to give this local landmark a miss.

We found a pleasant park area, with plenty of plane trees, plus the odd orange tree, providing plenty of shade. The area was overlooked by some fine-looking apartments, with outward facing balconies looking out across the park. We sat there for a while, just soaking up the atmosphere of this attractive city, whilst watching the world go by. It wasn’t too long before itchy feet kicked in, for me at least, so I left my wife sitting on a bench whilst I set off to explore the immediate vicinity.

It was an area of narrow streets, hemmed in by tall buildings, which reminded me of the old-town area of Barcelona. Unlike the latter city, this small section of Cadiz seemed quiet, unhurried and without the sense of unease that does at times, characterise that area of Barcelona. I passed a number of interesting local shops, including a fruiterers, a small corner shop (no local beers on sale, though), and a rather basic looking, stand-up-to-drink bar. I was almost tempted to pop in, but I didn’t want to leave Eileen on her own for too long. Instead, I decided to make my way back to her, by cutting back via the next block, and it was there that I found the type of place I was looking for, which was a corner bar, with several outside tables, plus a multi-lingual menu on a board outside (Spanish, English and German).

I returned to collect Mrs PBT’s and suggested we give the place a try. She was happy to go along with this, and we were soon seated at a shady table outside La Nueva Taberna. I ordered a Diet Coke for Eileen, plus a beer for myself, although disappointingly there were no local brews available. Instead, a half-litre of Barcelona’s finest (Estrella Dam) hit the spot. The selection of “Breakfast Appetisers” (Tapas?) sounded interesting, but having not long breakfasted on the ship, we weren’t tempted, or at least Eileen wasn’t.

Later on, a number of local customers turned, and they were tempted, and although I didn’t take too much notice of what they were eating, the food on the plates certainly looked appetising. After a coffee and a beer, I needed to make use of the facilities, and this allowed me to view the interior of the bar. I wasn’t brave enough to take any photos of the interior as I found my way to the Caballero’s, but it had a tiled floor and plenty of dark wood, of the type that typifies many bars in this part of the world.

As we weren’t eating, and as a number of other, presumably locals had turned up, we thought we’d better leave our table for them to sit at, and as my wife was now starting to get hungry, we decided to return to the ship, but not before taking a look at the impressive stone walls that kept Cadiz safe from marauders, in times gone by. The fortifications weren’t sufficient to prevent the attack on the Spanish fleet, by Sir Francis Drake, an episode that went down in history as “the singeing the King of Spain’s beard.” On the way back, I looked out for a shop, mainly to buy a few snack or other types of nibbles. It is something of a tradition at my workplace, for people returning from holiday, to provide some local “goodies” from the place they have just visited, but with no suitable shops to be found, we returned to the port entrance, empty handed.

Before re-boarding the ship, we had to pass through an airline-style security area, complete with bag and body scanners. Such areas are sadly, an essential requirement at every place of embarkation, as we discovered in both Crete and Athens, when returning to the ship. Once through security, my wife noticed both a Duty Free plus a souvenir shop, and she ended up buying herself yet another bag, plus a few aforementioned nibbles.

This brief visit, of course, only scratched the surface of Cadiz, but we both decided that the city is definitely worthy of a further visit, and proper exploration. Combined, perhaps with a stay in nearby Seville, this area of Andalusia, would be a good place to enjoy some pleasant warm sunshine, by escaping the worst of a typical British winter.