Back on dry land

A quick update, shortly after 7am this morning our cruise ship Queen Victoria, arrived back at her home port of Southampton, bringing to an end our 13-night expedition into the Atlantic, to the Azores, Madeira, Portugal and Spain. We disembarked the ship shortly after 8am, and amid the hustle and bustle of the baggage shed, located our several suitcases, most of which belonged to my good lady wife! 

 Then, after spreading them across two luggage trolleys, pushed them across to the car parking area. After retrieving the keys from the office, we loaded up the car and set off on the two-and-a-half-hour drive back to Tonbridge. This was a pleasant and relatively easy drive compared with a number of our fellow cruisers, some of whom faced journeys back to Wales, the North East and even Scotland – not the best way to finish a holiday!

Arriving that early in the morning meant hitting peak rush hour traffic in Southampton, but unlike previous occasions, we didn’t get lost. Even so, we took a slightly different route out of the city, which took us to the western edge of Southampton before joining the M27 and heading steadily east. Leaving Southampton behind, we continued along the motorway, past the turn-off for Portsmouth and then onto the A27, past Brighton and then, through some spectacular downland scenery to Lewes. The early start meant skipping breakfast, a comfort we both had become used to during the cruise, but I said to Eileen that we’d keep going and get a few miles under our belts, before stopping for a bite to eat.

A comfort stop was of greater importance than food, particularly for me, so at Lewes, we turned onto the A26 towards Tonbridge, and pulled in at the large Tesco's superstore, which we knew would have decent public toilets. We also picked up a few groceries to see us into the weekend, along with a “meal-deal” each, to act as breakfast! Tesco’s was absolutely rammed, but then I recalled that the previous night had been November 5^th which of course meant Lewes would be celebrating the event with its famous, and memorable Bonfire Night displays. If you've ever been to Lewes Bonfire Night, then you know it is certainly a celebration to remember, but it's also important to reflect that the event is primarily for local people. It involves the coming together of Lewes’s six Bonfire Societies, in a parade to the town’s War Memorial, at the top of the town, where respects are paid to the dead of two world wars and subsequent conflicts, before the bonfire boys and girls, as they like to call themselves, peel off to their own separate bonfire celebrations.

So, this morning, the worthy citizens of Lewes were busy stocking up after the previous night’s merry making. The vast majority of businesses in the town, tend to close mid-afternoon to allow staff time to head off, and celebrate with whichever Bonfire Society they belong to, either that or just give them time to get home safely, and tucked up indoors, away from the mayhem taking place in the streets outside. Last year’s event attracted around 40,000 visitors, quite a number to be packed into the confines of the town’s narrow streets. Driving out of Lewes this morning, in the direction of Tunbridge Wells, there were countless signs lining the roads, prohibiting people from parking on verges, or otherwise blocking routes into the town, and these notices extended for several miles. In recognition of these celebrations, I shall be cracking open a bottle of Harvey’s Bonfire Boy, a dark amber beer with a full malty, caramelised, bitter aftertaste, set against a superbly smoky background. This 5.8% ABV beer is brewed annually, to celebrate Lewes’s Bonfire Night festivities.

Getting back to the cruise, if I've counted correctly, it was the 9^th voyage that we’ve undertaken, and until this one, we’ve always been lucky with the weather. That luck of course, had to come to an end, and after a three-day run down from Southampton, down to the Azores, sea conditions turned decidedly choppy, stirred up by an increasingly strong north-westerly wind. Mrs PBT’s who's always boasted about the strength of her sea legs, and how she's spent numerous occasions on cross channel ferries, when there was only her and the chief steward still standing, at the bar and necking back the shots, found herself feeling under the weather. She wasn't physically sick, although, she felt queasy enough to have to lie down. Fortunately, the anti-seasickness tablets she brought with her, did the trick, but that episode rather set the scene on a number of other weather-related occasions during the voyage.

The night before we were due to call at our first destination – Praia da Vitoria, the main settlement on Terceira, the second largest island in the Azores, the captain warned that we might have difficulty in docking. The following morning his worst fears were confirmed and although he made a couple of attempts, including one that involved approaching the harbour from a different angle, his effects were to no avail, and we were forced to abandon our visit to that particular island. 

The ship carried onto San Miguel, the largest of the nine habitable islands that make up the Azores. We docked at the capital Ponta del Garda, shortly after 9pm, which was ten hours or so ahead of our scheduled arrival time.  By way of compensation, this did allow everyone who wished to disembark, to do so, and take a look around the town.Whilst tempted Mrs PBT's, protective as ever, wasn't keen for me to go wandering around on my own - something about pirates or press gangs! I’m exaggerating, and to be fair we discovered the following morning, that there weren’t many bars, or other places of refreshment, close to the seafront. However, I bet that an experienced pub man, like myself, could have found somewhere, especially after four days stuck at sea.  

Unfortunately, Praia da Vitoria wasn't the only port that we missed on the cruise, and once again adverse weather played a part. The second destination we missed was the Spanish city of Vigo, situated fairly close to the most northerly and most westerly point of the Iberian peninsula. Known to mariners, and weather watchers as Cape Finisterre, this is the point where the waters of the Bay of Biscay meet those of the north Atlantic, making this area one that is renowned for storms. Vigo was the final port of call on the cruise and was a destination we’d allocated to stock up on Spanish goodies, both for ourselves and for friends, family and work colleagues back home. We’d stopped at the city on a previous cruise, but as that day was a Sunday, the majority of shops were shut. Tuesday would be different, and as we’d previously clocked the location of Vigo’s main shopping area, sited within easy walking distance of the harbour.

As we sailed away the previous evening from the Portuguese port of Leixões – docking point for those wishing to visit Oporto, Eileen suggested we go up on deck, watch the sail away and listen to the captain's announcement. We were both slightly perturbed because there was a woman, who we’d bumped into a few times, who seemed intent on spreading doom and gloom (she worked a doctor’s receptionist, if that’s a clue to her character!). She’d heard, although she didn’t reveal the sourced of her information, that adverse weather was forecast and we might not be able to dock at Vigo. I didn't say to anything to her face, but after she’d left, I said to Eileen that she was talking absolute b*llocks.

I made that judgement in the light of the warm, bright, calm and sunny day we’d enjoyed at Leixões. Unfortunately, I was forced to eat my words, because once the ship’s captain had gone through the formalities of everyone being back on board and other stuff related to our departure, he mentioned the prospect of a severe storm that would impact on our schedule for the next few days. This was due to an area of deep low pressure that was moving up from the south, bringing with it strong winds and heavy rain. This could impact the next day’s departure from Vigo and leave us exposed off the coast of Cape Finisterre.

His plan was to miss out our final port (boo, hiss), and to head off, at high speed, towards Biscay, thereby remaining ahead of the storm. He added that the winds associated with this gathering low pressure area, might assist our progress north, and keep us clear of the worst effects of the storm. You can imagine this decision wasn’t universally popular, especially as it proved the harbinger of doom right, but onboard a ship, the captain’s word is final, as he or she is responsible for the safety and well-being of all on board – passengers, crew and even the ship itself. 

The next day I was travelling down in the lift with a group of other passengers, when the captain entered on the next floor. Someone asked him what progress we were making, and “Very good”, came the reply. He said that he felt vindicated in taking the position he had, especially as we were continuing to outrun the storm. He added that the strong fore winds associated with the depression, were helping the ship’s progress, and in effect we were steaming along partially for free, as the winds continued propelling us in the direction we wanted to go.

So, there we have it, two destinations missed due to poor weather conditions, but no adverse effects on the ship, passengers or crew. On the plus side those additional two sea days were just fine just for, reading, walking about the ship, attending a lecture or for just generally chilling out. As well as being quite bracing at times, the sea air can be surprisingly relaxing, and when tucked up in bed, in one’s cabin, the motion of the ship, as it rocks gently from side to side, has the effect of lulling one to sleep. Leaving our voyage until late October - early November was possibly asking for trouble, but you win some and you also lose some of the time as well. It was still a very relaxing and most enjoyable holiday, and at the end of the day, that’s all you can really wish for.