Yesterday and today - one week on

It’s the start of the week, and sadly Mrs PBT’s and I are on the last leg of our cruise, and slowly making our way home. At around 11am this morning, Queen Victoria began her passage through the Straits of Gibraltar, but this time in a westerly direction. Unlike our outward voyage, we passed through this narrow maritime passage during daylight hours, although the view – in both directions was slightly hazy, due to sea mist. It was still possible though, to see the coasts of both Morocco and Spain, and I must say the rock itself looked imposing and impressive, rising as it does, straight up from the sea.

The 11am passage meant having to miss legendary cricket commentator Henry Blofeld's  “Blowers” second talk, although those who did attend claimed it was nowhere near as good as his initial presentation, which took place a few days ago. The speculation was that perhaps, too much wine had been taken, but that was just a rumour, of course. Having said that, we have discovered that gossip spreads both rapidly and rather too easily on a ship, with one example being the story of two passengers, left behind in Cagliari, because they didn’t get back on board ship in time.

It turned out to be a complete fantasy, but another rumour was doing the rounds this morning, along the lines that extreme weather conditions might prevent the ship docking in Lisbon tomorrow (Tuesday). I’m not sure where that one came from, although the ship’s captain did advise that there might be a 3-metre swell later on tonight, due to increasing south-westerly winds. The weather has been glorious so far, and it’s still warm and sunny as I sit here out on the balcony, typing this post. 

It would be a shame if we did have to miss the Portuguese capital, as the city represents my first foray onto foreign soil, as a shy, 17-year-old schoolboy, taking part in an educational cruise.  I’m fairly certain I wrote about that trip a few years ago, so I won’t bore you again with the details now, but that voyage represents my first and only visit to Portugal, so I am keen to renew my acquaintance with a country that is England’s oldest ally.

Since my last post, we have visited Santorini, Cephalonia with its lovely capital Argostoli, and Cagliari, the charming, cosmopolitan capital of Sardinia. It was blisteringly hot, when we docked in the town, two days ago, so much so that Eileen, who doesn’t like the heat at the best of times, only got as far as the exit from the port area, before deciding to turn back. I carried on, being made of sterner stuff – mad dogs and all that, but I stayed in the shade as much as possible and had a good time exploring this lesser-known capital, on my own.

I took a look at the city’s compact and modernised, railway station, before climbing the hill up into Cagliari’s old town. I only made it so far though, as beyond the main square there is a much steeper ascent up into what must have been the original part of the town. An imposing, and impregnable looking fortress dominates this area, as does a majestic cathedral, but I was content to sit at a table outside one of the many cafés and bars, overlooking the old market square.

A couple of cooling glasses of a craft IPA, brewed on the Italian mainland, along with some slices of ham and cheese, in a soft-flat, white roll was just the thing to set me up for the rest of the day, but not before taking in the local comings and goings, of this bustling Sardinian port. Some of the local girls, dressed to impress and in time for a coffee and snack, provided quite a spectacle, and woe betide anyone who got in their way, or tried to spoil their enjoyment.

After this light lunch I did a spot of shopping, purchasing a couple of Sardinian craft beers, some local virgin olive oil, some Sardinian honey, plus a bar of a nougat-like confectionery, that wouldn’t melt in the excessive heat. 

Finally, no visit to Italy could be called complete without some local ice-cream, and the mango-flavoured Gelato, served in a cone, and enjoyed under the shady shop canopy overlooking the seafront, proved the perfect way to end my all too brief visit to this charming, Mediterranean island.

I made my way back onboard the cruise ship and tracked down Mrs PBT’s. After a welcoming cup of coffee, we went out on deck and watched as the Queen Victoria slipped her moorings, and sailed majestically out of Cagliari harbour, once in open waters, the ship took a westerly course at first, towards the Spanish coast, before changing to a south-westerly one, down towards the southern tip of Spain, and the coastline of Africa. That is where we came in, and this is now, where we must leave.

 

Lost on the Acropolis, in Athens

I had booked an excursion for when we docked in Piraeus, the latter being the port of Athens. As a first-time visitor to the Greek capital, I was determined to view the city’s most famous site, even though tens of thousands of other visitors to Athens are as equally determined. I am talking about the Acropolis, and the Parthenon, the two monuments from antiquity, that are sited on a hill overlooking Athens, and the two structures that everyone associates with the city.

The trip I booked was a half-day one, departing at 8 am, and returning at around 12.30pm. There was also an afternoon trip, but my reasoning was the morning one would the cooler of the two. This might well have been the case, but as I discovered a 1,500-foot-high hill, offers little in the way of shade. Consequently, I made sure as much of me as possible was covered, and I sensibly wore a wide-brimmed hat, but despite my precautions the top of a small mountain is not the place to be if you want to stay cool.

It was quite a hike from our ship’s berth at Piraeus to the fleet of waiting coaches, but one onboard I settled down in my seat to enjoy the journey from the port into the Greek capital. Being an organised tour, we had a guide looking after us, in the form of a pleasant and quite feisty young lady. I can’t remember what her name was in Greek, but she told us to call her "Shorty." She wasn’t that tall, in case you haven’t guessed – something that proved awkward, later on!

Our journey out from Piraeus took us along a very busy motorway and into Athens, passing on the way the Greek National Stadium, along with another sports arena belonging to some Athenian football club or other, whose name meant absolutely nothing to me. We also passed an attractive marina where a number of very expensive looking yachts were moored up. The coach then began ac climb up towards the mountain where the Acropolis is situated, before eventually turning into a car park where a large number of coaches were already parked. This was not a good sign.

Before leaving the vehicle, Shorty gave us all a quick pep-talk, advising us to stay close to her, and not to wander off. She said that if any of us, at any time, felt unable to carry on we were to let her know and she would make arrangements for that person to be escorted back down. She boasted that she had never lost a tour member and had no intention of doing so on this occasion. To aid communication, we were all given a Blue Tooth device that clipped over our right ear, in order to hear the commentary and follow any instructions she might give us. So far, so good!

We set off towards the entrance to the monument, where there was already quite a queue. Shorty warned us that as many of the steps, and walkways were paved with marble, and thus could be quite slippery, so not for the first time that day I was wishing that I’d brought my fold-up walking stick along with me. Although it is quite a climb to the summit of the Acropolis, there are several flat stages along the way, so apart from taking the care that was obviously needed, I found the ascent quite easy. It was quite an ascent though as we discovered once we eventually reached the summit.

The main difficulty was the sheer number of visitors, and whilst the upward and downward paths were supposedly separated, in reality they weren’t, and this led to all sorts of confusion as tour parties, of all sorts of nationalities mingled and became entwined with one another. It was at the summit, and close to the Parthenon temple that I became separated from our guide. I could hear her talking, via my Blue Tooth earpiece, and as I could also see the red flag she had hoisted, in front of her, I thought was on the correct path, but as her voice became fainter, and started to break up, I realised that perhaps something was wrong. I pushed forward, as fast as conditions and crowds would allow to what I thought was our guide, only to discover it was a different tour leader, with a very similar looking red flag.

Panic set in for a while, as I realised that I’d lost the guide, but looking at the situation rationally, I thought that in the unlikely occurrence of not finding Shorty and the rest of the group, I could make my way down to the entrance gates and ask a member of staff to get in contact with her. In the meantime, I continued my look around, marvelling at how high we were, above the city, but also somewhat gobsmacked at the sheer numbers of visitors scrambling all over the flat, rocky and rather uneven summit. Fortunately, I recognised a fellow Brit from the Queen Vic tour party, mainly by the colour and design of the lanyard he was wearing and was soon reunited with the rest of the group.

Shorty hadn’t realised I was missing, along with another member of the party, but she did, quite sensibly, give out specific times for departing from the summit, and also for meeting at the exit gates, two thirds of the way down. This still didn’t work, as after most of us met, as instructed, two people were still missing. I’m not sure how she found them, but eventually we were all reunited and re boarded the coach.

On the way back to the ship, our guide revealed a lot of further information about the Acropolis and its famous temple, along with a potted history of the area, the various figures from Greek mythology involved with the story, and how the temple ended up as a ruin. All this was whilst we were driving through the centre of Athens, looking at several other important buildings, including the Greek Parliament, the former royal palace, the stadium constructed to host the first modern Olympic Games, and several other sites of interest.

We eventually returned to the where the Queen Victoria was berthed in Piraeus and said farewell to ur vertically challenged guide. There were some shops, close to the boarding point, so I treated myself to a T-shirt, along with a few goodies for both Eileen and Matthew. Athens was the halfway point on this particular cruise, with some passengers leaving the ship there and new ones joining. We all had to pass through the obligatory bag and personnel scanners prior to boarding, but as luck would have it, I received a text from Mrs PBT’s inquiring of my whereabouts.

I called her and arranged to meet at the restaurant for lunch, where a was able to regale her of my visit to the Acropolis, and how I nearly got lost. Despite all this, I’m really glad I undertook the tour and was able to view the sights of this historic and world-famous monument.

 

 

Heraklion - capital of Crete

The large Greek island of Crete was not supposed to be the second destination on the cruise, in fact it wasn’t listed at all as a stopping off point. The ship was steering a course towards the island of Mykonos, when two days before our scheduled arrival, the captain announced that with no available berth for Queen Victoria, at the island, the ship would need to anchor offshore. In such situations, passengers are normally transferred in small boats, or tenders, to and from the offshore anchorage. Unfortunately, due to adverse weather conditions forecast for Mykonos, the strong winds and choppy seas would prevent the ship’s company from conducting a safe operation, so we would be heading off, elsewhere.

The captain and the Cunard support staff had secured us a spot instead on Crete, at the port of Heraklion, on the same date and at the same time, so instead we would be spending our second day ashore, on what is the largest of the many Greek islands. The situation regarding Mykonos, wasn’t a huge surprise, because the island is regarded as something of a party destination, a fact that was confirmed by the tour guide we had, in Athens, the following day. Spending a day on Crete was something of a bonus for me, if only for the name, as the bungalow I lived in with my parents, between the ages of 14 and 18, was called “Crete,” and it was a destination I always wanted to visit.

So, at around 8am on the morning of 8^th October, the Queen Victoria sailed serenely into the harbour at Heraklion, passing a rather large cruise ship, flying the flag of German tour operator, TUI, Mein Schiff 5, was a bit of a beast, and I imagine from its position in port, that the vessel had arrived a day or so before us – cue the usual sorts of jokes about the Germans getting there early, in order to secure the sunbeds! As well as sentimental, personal reasons for visiting Crete, there is much to see and explore on an island that was home to the ancient Minoan civilisation, which predated that of neighbouring Greece by several centuries. 

Heraklion is the island’s capital, and the entrance to the harbour is guarded by an impressive, and imposing-looking stone port, constructed by the Venetians during the 16^th century.  The Italian city state of Venice was a major power in the Mediterranean, over a period of several centuries, and fortifications such as those at Heraklion, were built to guard the trade routes that the Venetians depended on.

After mooring at the port, and the landing formalities completed, we were free to leave the ship. A fleet of coaches were operating a shuttle service between the ship and the port entrance, but due to an agreement with the local taxi driver’s union, the buses were not allowed to convey passengers into the town centre and back. I appreciate everyone needs to make a living, but the taxis weren’t cheap, charging passengers a €10 fee each way. Had I been on my own, I would have walked it, but Eileen wasn’t up to it, even though it was only an easy, 20–30-minute stroll, each way.

Our driver dropped us at the bottom of the old town, overlooking the aforementioned harbour. The old town of Heraklion is situated on top of a hill that overlooks the harbour, and there were plenty of shops, cafés and bars on either side of the street that leads up from the seafront.  Although some of the shops are devoted to “tourist tat” others do offer other items, such as shoes, or clothing.  On the subject of “tat”, a member of the group Mrs PBT’s and I have been enjoying a few after dinner drinks with, up on Deck 10, has organised a competition to find the tackiest tat going – the winners to be decided on the final night of the cruise.

On our way up, we passed an attractive Greek Orthodox church roughly two thirds of the way up, and at the top of the hill, the street split off into a number of different directions. We noticed the odd high-end shop, including a branch of H&M, but having little interest in such establishments (I am talking about me here), but being Sunday anyway major shops and banks were firmly shut. Of more interest to both of us, was the chance of some liquid refreshment, and here we were spoiled for choice. We opted for a café called Noniteta which in common with the majority of other bars, had plenty of outdoor seating, protected from the fierce Mediterranean sun, by an extensive canvas canopy.  We were directed to a vacant table and ordered ourselves a drink each – iced coffee for Mrs PBT’s, plus a half litre of local beer, brewed elsewhere on the island, for me.

As experienced in Cadiz the other day, it wasn’t long before the café area began to fill up, not just with locals but tourists like us, plus several groups of Germans from the large TUI cruise ship, berthed near us. The food offerings, which were predominantly kebabs looked good, so it was little wonder that the establishment’s slogan was “The Most delicious Gyros in Heraklion.” We were tempted to eat there, especially as this would mean supporting the local economy, but after a large breakfast, and the promise of far more food than we could ever hope to eat, the decision was made to return to the ship.

Before heading back down to the harbour area, we had a good look around at the shops. I was looking for some goodies to take back to my work colleagues and found this in the form of loukoumia, the Greek equivalent of Turkish Delight. One item we couldn’t help but notice, was the rather dangerous looking knives, which were on open sale, on display boards both inside and outside some of the shops. Given the obvious concerns surrounding knife crime, back home in the UK, such a cavalier attitude seemed incredible to us. The hardware store, where Matthew works, keeps all such knives, including kitchen ones, in a locked cabinet, and also operates a “Challenge 25” policy.

The Greeks seem to have a totally different attitude when it comes to safety, and this was further evidenced by the number of people we saw riding on motorbikes and scooters, without wearing crash helmets. This apparent lack of concern was further evident when it came to crossing the road, in order to seek a taxi back to the ship. Fortunately, a kind-hearted local taxi driver came to our rescue. He was waiting for a pre-booked fare, but he gallantly escorted Eileen and I back across the busy, harbour front road, and hailed a taxi for us.

It was another €10 of course, but it transported us safely back to the ship, where a well-stocked buffet was waiting for us. I did feel a trifle guilty, and also felt we were missing out by not having eaten locally, but it was my wife’s decision and as all married men will know, one’s spouse is always right. So, rather like our stop in Spain, our visit to Crete was a rather brief one, but it did give us a taste of the island, and its culture, as well as fulfilling a long-cherished childhood wish. It also represented our first time on Greek soil, for both Mrs PBT’s and me.

Crete is definitely worthy of a much longer visit, and being the largest of the Greek islands offers much of interest to visitors. The partially restored ruins, of the place of Knossos, home to the ancient Minoan civilisation, are just a short drive away from the capital, Heraklion, and there is much else to see and to on the island. Eileen’s niece, and her fiancé have chosen Crete for their honeymoon, when they get married next year, so even after our short visit, we will b able to give them the heads up when we get back.

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.

Cruising - a few questions & some answers

There’s certainly been a lot of feedback on my last post, along with quite a few questions, that I shall do my best to answer. The first relates to the hand pull dispense, used in the onboard pub. I haven’t managed to find anyone who’s likely to know the answer, but there are several lines of inquiry for me to pursue.  Having said, James H’s suggestion makes a lot of sense, and a bag-in-a-box sounds like the ideal solution to storing, and keeping cask ale in situations where demand is likely to be low, and turnover intermittent.

Volvo Cruiser, there are plenty of online websites offering advice about cruising, and I have listed a few of them below. With regards to the food, the portions and whether or not it is included, I would say yes, it is, on the majority of cruise lines, although there are options for “fine dining” where you will have to pay extra. We are only familiar with Cunard vessels, and can confirm that dining in the buffet, the Britannia Restaurant (waiter service) and the pub, is all inclusive. In the buffet, you can go back as many times as you wish and pile your plate as high as you want.

Drinks are not included though, but drink packages are available, at a price – something like $110 per day, but unless you are a really heavy drinker, they aren’t really worth it. Having said that, we’ve met two sisters from Wales up on deck, who are part of a group that my wife has made friends with. Both ladies are making full use of their package, with limitless G&T’s appearing in front of then, from dawn until dusk. Another lady we’ve met, whose a former air stewardess, likes to start her morning’s off with a glass of Prosecco or three, and then continues in the same vein until bedtime! I'm not wishing to moralise, but this is dangerous territory if you ask me.

Confectionery, such as Mars Bars, and other similar snacks are not available on ship, and you are best bringing your own, especially as prices in the onboard ship are high. I remember, on a previous cruise. Mrs PBT’s paying $12 or more for a bag of M&M’s, so bring your own, or better still, buy whilst ashore, as that way you will be putting something back into the local economy. Btw, US dollars are the onboard currency on Cunard, and possibly other cruise lines as well. They obviously know where the money is.

Aloha Harry, the fish and chip portions in the Golden Lion pub, might appear small, but they are sensibly sized, unlike those from our local chippy back home. There, the temptation is to finish what’s in the wrapper, and if I am being truthful, the friendly Turkish chippy we normally use in Tonbridge, does tend to pile on the chips – even for a “small” portion.

What I will say to anyone thinking of taking a cruise is, bite the bullet, and take the plunge, if you pardon the pun. Perhaps do what Eileen and I did, which is book a short, mini cruise (ours was just for two nights). There are plenty of websites, alternatively a visit to a good old fashioned travel agent might be helpful, as they can go through the options available and help you find a deal which suits both your leisure time as well as your pocket.

Finally, this post comes to you via tethering – an idea that I copied from Retired Martin. Basically, it involves hooking up the laptop, to your mobile phone, and yes, after a bit of help from my good lady wife - who knows about such things, the laptop is finally connected to the internet. So thank you to both  Martin and Eileen.

Cruise Advice & Handy Tips

Emma Cruises. 

Cruise with Gary