The Magical Mystery Cruise - Leisurely Lisbon

 

The bow of the ship was crowded at dawn as Oceana glided up the Tagus River and under the April 25^th. Bridge into Lisbon.  I had been really excited in April 2009 when I had sailed into this port for the first time on Arcadia.  This time I knew what to expect but it was still a thrill wondering whether the highest point of the ship really would pass underneath without hitting anything! We passed through safely but then for some reason did experience minor problems when it came to tying up at Quay do Tobaco.

This morning I needed to head off to the western part of the city in search of the Jardim do Estrela where apparently the English Cemetery could be found.  Trying to pick up the names of the tiny streets on a tourist map is virtually an impossibility so I just walked west along the promenade hoping that at some point I would be able to identify a main road on the map.  Old trams whizzed by me and at one point I heard the strains of “Jingle Bells”.  I looked up to see one of the trams being driven by Santa himself – the tram was full of young children having a whale of a time.

Eventually I reached a train station and having managed to locate this on the map I was then able to head off uphill towards the Basilica dos Estrela and the Gardens.  On the way I passed the main Government buildings and to my horror noticed that there was a large demonstration in progress in the square outside.  Police were stationed at every street corner and I began to worry that perhaps they might close the roads off as had been the case in Athens.  I pushed the thought to the back of my mind – lets try to find the cemetery first.

I struggled on uphill and there before me was the Basilica with the entrance to the gardens just opposite.  The gardens were very peaceful and I wandered round them about three times before admitting to myself that the cemetery was not to be found.   A group of cleaners stood leaning on their brooms and chatting so I wandered over and with my very best Portuguese accent asked for “Cemeterio dos Ingleses”.  For once somebody understood my question and I was immediately directed outside the garden and across the road. 

I stood outside the high walls and looked at a sign indicating that I had found the Anglican Church of St. George and the English Cemetery.  Thank goodness I had come straight from the ship and not left it until this afternoon for I noticed that the opening times were only from 10am to 1pm and that the cemetery was closed completely on a Saturday.  On entering I found myself in a cemetery shaded by trees and abundant vegetation.  The sections were  surrounded by neatly trimmed box hedges and the colours of autumn were everywhere.

The cemetery was far too large for me to photograph all the graves but I did take pictures of the some of the very old inscriptions. When I return to the UK perhaps I may find some interesting stories to relate about the English merchants in Lisbon who lie buried here.  For researchers who may follow in my footsteps in the future it is worth noting that this particular cemetery is provided with toilet facilities.  Another fact worthy of note is that the No. 28 tram from central Lisbon stops right outside the Basilica and Gardens – certainly better than undertaking the 1 ½ hour walk as I had done !

I am pleased to report that the police had not closed off any roads and I was able to return to the ship for lunch with no problems.  In the afternoon I wandered into the main square and purchased a couple of wonderful scarves at a very reasonable price.  I was continually aware of my camera and bag as back in 2009 this was the one port of call where pickpockets had been rife.  Passports, wallets and handbags had all been targetted which was such a shame. 

As we sailed out of Lisbon the Commodore gave us news that the weather was set to deteriorate for our remaining voyage to Southampton.  Boy, was he right.  As I write this we have experienced 48 hours of gale force winds and the Bay of Biscay has done what it is famous for – it tossed this ship about all over the place.  Forget everything you read about these large modern ships being fitted with stabilisers and therefore not being subject to extremes of movement in rough seas.  True, stabilisers are fitted.  True that they do reduce the sidewards roll of the ship.  However, they do nothing to stop the pitch from bow to stern - and reducing the sidewards roll is not the same as preventing it altogether.  As I lay in bed last night the movement was so severe that wine glasses came flying from one end of the cabin to the other, just missing my head. Clock and spectacles were thrown to the floor from the bedside table and I just managed to catch a glass of water preventing that too from being catapulted into the air.  I donned my travel sickness wrist bands !!

The Magical Mystery Cruise - Valencia, Spain

There are to be no stories about trying to find cemeteries in this episode of the blog, in fact the day was just spent playing the typical British tourist.  The shuttle bus dropped us off in the centre of town and as I waited to alight I heard one of my fellow passengers acost the driver in an angry voice – “Well where are the shops?”.  The driver did not speak English – at least not when spoken to in such an ill mannered way !  Outside another of the passengers pointed out the general direction of “the shops” and the rather rude gentleman replied “Well why didn’t he say so”.  Sometimes I despair of my fellow countrymen.  As I alighted I turned to the driver and said “Gracias” in an accent that I hoped he would understand.

Our drop off and meeting point was on the banks of the former Rio Turia opposite the Trinidad Bridge.  The river burst its banks on 14 Oct 1957 and led to the worst flooding in Valencia’s history.  To ensure that such a disaster could not happen again the river was diverted around the city.  The old river bed has now been laid out to gardens, sports areas and children’s play areas.  I would have liked to explore the gardens but time did not permit so I concentrated instead on the old part of the city.

Somehow I managed to negotiate the maze of narrow streets and found myself outside the old market.  At 9.30 am it was a hive of activity with the locals eager to buy the freshest fruit and vegetables for their day.  The colours were spectacular and the fresh smell something I will long remember.  What has happened in England?  How come we have lost our markets?  How come the youngsters only want to eat horrible ready prepared food instead of wonderful healthy options. Indeed, how come our supermarkets are full of artificial looking fruit and veg where each item has to be exactly the same dimensions as everything else and where nothing tastes of anything anymore?  I marvelled at the sights before me and took many photos of wonderful displays with their vibrant natural colours.

Having returned to the ship for lunch I ventured out in the afternoon for a walk.  From the looks of the map the local beach was not too far away.  Outside the port gates were the old, highly decorated warehouses.  I looked at the road and noticed markings that looked like grid markings on a race track.  Suddenly it dawned on me – this was the Valencia Formula 1 Grand Prix Circuit !  Having determined that at this point in time there was no danger of an F1 car roaring down on me I ventured out a little further and found myself standing on the actual track – WOW, what a thrill (even without any cars).  My walk to the beach took me round about a third of the F1 circuit and I imagined Jenson and Lewis racing round here in their wonderful Maclaren cars. 

The palm lined promenade soon came into view and beyond it stretched mile upon mile of yellow sand.  Here and there were groups of children and young people playing ball games but for all intents and purposes the beach was deserted – even though the sun was shining brightly.  I managed to capture one shot of a fisherman standing at the water’s edge with a couple of sailing boats out on the turquoise water.  I hope it looks as good when I download it from the camera onto the computer.

I made my way back to the ship after yet another fascinating day.  There is only one more port of call for this cruise and that’s Lisbon.  Three days after that it will be back to Southampton and onward to dismal Croydon.  But at the moment let’s look forward to Lisbon where I need to find the “Cemeterio dos Ingleses” !!!!!!

The Magical Mystery Cruise - Sicily, Land of the Godfather

Our port of call in Sicily faces the Strait of Messina and carries the same name.  During the second world war Dad passed through Messina on his way from Egypt to Italy.  Up on deck at dawn as the city came into view I tried to pick out which of the buildings Dad would have seen and imagined how he might have felt with the clouds of war hanging over the city.  My own approach could not have been more different – here I was on a luxury P&O cruise liner whilst Dad would have been on a very basic troop carrier.  But enough of the war – how did I spend my day in the Land of the Godfather?  Needless to say it involved yet another adventure trying to find a cemetery!

As I entered the terminal building I found a tourist information booth was just opening up.  I asked for a map and enquired the way to the “Messina Cimitero Monumentale” in Via Catania.  As always I received a surprised look – obviously cemeteries are not on the normal tourist trail.  On this occasion I received excellent help and the exact route to the main gate of the cemetery was pointed out on the map. The young lady even wrote down an Italian phrase that I should ask for within the cemetery so that the Office could point me in the right direction.  I was told I could take the light rail from outside but said I would prefer to take the half hour walk.  It was far too early for anything to be open but this was fine as it gave me a chance to negotiate the streets with ease and soak up a little of the atmosphere from the imposing architecture.

I reached the cemetery with no problems and spent a little while wandering around wondering where on earth the “Foreigners” section was in this huge Sicilian cemetery.  In the end I had to admit defeat.  I made my way to the main gate and noticed a small office with the word “Portiere” over the door.  An emaciated gentleman stood outside and I enquired of him the way to “Zomo Inglesi” in my best British accent.  Obviously he had no idea of what I was trying to say!  I tried several more times, each time adding more of an Italian lilt to the words.  He waved his hands about in frustration trying to tell me that he spoke no English and did not understand what I was asking.  Then all of a sudden the penny must have dropped and he shouted excitedly “Campo Inglesi?”.  Just as excitedly I nodded my head and repeated the words that he had said – hoping aganst hope that this was actually what I wanted.  He took me over to a small mini bus that was parked by the gate and which was filling up with passengers who were loaded down with bunches of flowers.  The Portiere spoke to the driver and I was told to board the bus.  I did as I was told – goodness only knows where I was going to be taken!

As I boarded I noticed that there should be one seat free at the back – unfortunately the three passengers taking up this back row were of such a size that they took up all four seats.  There was a two seater row in front of this but these two seats were taken up by one lady with masses of flowers.  The driver shouted at her to make room for me to sit down (at least this is what I think he was saying).  She shouted back in a very angry voice and I told her it was “OK” I would stand.  Then an elderly Turkish gentleman tried to get up to offer me his seat but again I said it was “OK” – how could I take a seat from him?  So, mini bus full and me standing with head bent we set off into the heart of the cemetery.  We climbed and climbed and negotiated many hair pin bends before coming to a halt at the very top of the steep hill.  Most of the passengers alighted carrying with them their flowers and I was able to take a seat.  I enquired as best I could whether this was where I was meant to get off but the driver shook his head and had an animated conversation with the one other passenger who was left.  I heard the work “Inglesi” several times so they were obviously talking about me and my mission.

We set off again this time going down hill and negotiating more hairpin bends.  I had completely lost my sense of direction by this time and just hoped that by some miracle I would be able to find my way out of the cemetery when the time came.  The bus came to a halt and both driver and passenger pointed out a small pathway between the trees.  I thanked the driver profusely – but what was “thank you “ in Italian, I had forgotten and just smiled broadly and said Thank You many times. I made my way down the path, peered over the wall and noticed some dilapidated English graves on the other side.  Then I came to a gate outside of which was a notice stating that in 1925 King George V and Queen Mary had visited the graves of the British soldiers and sailors who were buried here.  I had found the section I was seeking !!

Inside I found the graves of English, French and German.  It was a very showery morning and large droplets of rain fell on my head from the trees.  My feet were becoming wetter and wetter as I was having to plough my way through overgrown vegetation.  A family of locals noticed that I was taking photographs and this sparked their interest and they wandered in.  I doubt that they had ever entered this section before – they did not stay long.  I spent an hour doing what I could to photograph the headstones and then bid my fellow countrymen farewell.  I now had to find my way out of the cemetery.

Fortunately, right next to the “Foreigners Section” I spotted a side gate which seemed to lead out of the cemetery onto a lane.  I was now at quite a low level and I reckoned that if I followed this narrow lane downhill then it SHOULD lead me back to the main road, Via Catania.  Thankfully it did.  Phew I had not become totally lost.

Back on the right track I passed the main gate and popped in to thank the Portiere for his help.  The only Mediterranean phrase for thank you that I could think of was “Gracias” but wasn’t that Spanish?  Oh well, Gracias and Thank You will have to do. He seemed to be delighted so he must have got the drift of what I was trying to say.  I found my way back to the ship for a sorely needed cup of coffee.

At noon I was in the main square to watch the clock spring into life.  The rampart lion roaring and waving his flag, a cockerel screeching to the gathered crowds and the twelve apostles circling.  All of this was done to the chants of a priest and the strains of Ave Maria – most impressive. 

The afternoon was spent wandering the little back streets of Messina.  Every corner revealed new shapes or new colours.  What photo opportunities.  But then the rain came down in torrents and I got drenched.  Back to the ship soaking wet but with such very happy memories of Messina.

The Magical Mystery Cruise - Katakolon, Gateway to Ancient Olympia

Katakolon is a delightful little port packed full of small local shops selling an array of tourist tat. However, every now & then can be found a shop selling unique handmade jewellery.  Behind the main street is a lane where the local tavernas are situated and at the opposite end of town is a small pebbled beach. I spent the afternoon soaking up the local atmosphere.

The morning had been taken up with visiting Olympia, the site of the Ancient Olympic Games and the spot where the Olympic flame will be lit in a few months time on the start of its journey to London.  This is a totally ruined site but it was quite beautiful at this time of year with the warm colours of the autumn leaves carpetting the ground.  The athletes in the family might be interested to here that I stood with my feet on those ancient marble starting blocks and gazed down the track as the competitors would have done over 2,000 years ago.  I would love to be able to report that I ran the short track but unfortunately I was weighed down with a camera bag and water bottle so this was not possible.

The Magical Mystery Cruise - Athens, City of Myth & Legend

Bombarding my readers with lengthy tales from Greek mythology is not my intention – I will leave that to the Greek tour guides who drone on endlessly on the subject.  Instead I will give a very brief impression of my visit.

Oceana berthed in Piraeus at dawn and my lasting memory will be of the chanting which floated up from the Greek Orthodox church of St. Nicholas near the quayside.  St. Nicholas is the patron saint of the seafarers and this was his Feast Day.  Lines of people queued to enter the church and in the evening there was to be great celebrations in the square.  My day was to be spent in Athens and I had taken the precautions of booking the “Athens on your Own” trip so that I would be assured of no problems with transport. A few truly adventurous passengers were to take the local train into town but I decided against this – just in case there should be any problems in the afternoon for the return trip.  As it happened I was so pleased that I took this decision – but more of that later !

The journey into Athens took just 30 minutes and our local organiser turned out to be a lady from “back home”.  She had met a Greek student whilst she was at university in the north of England way back in the 1970s and had lived in Athens since 1974. As we approached the city centre she offered to show the best entrance for all those who wanted to go to the Acropolis.  Was there anyone who wanted to go anywhere else?  Naturally, I always have to be different from the crowd so up shot my hand.  I was asked where I was hoping to visit so I replied “The First Cemetery” !!  Oh dear, that gave her problems.  I knew roughly where it was but not the precise location of the street.  As is always the way the tourist map which had been provided was nowhere near detailed enough to show all the street names.  Well, it appeared that she didn’t know the precise location either so off I set on my own for another of my little adventures.

I headed off in the direction of the Temple of Olympian Zeus and the Stadium because I had been given to understand that the cemetery (which has a Protestant section) was located in the streets behind these edifices.  I spent an hour climbing the hilly streets in this section of town but on this occasion failed miserably in my quest.  I refrained from seeking help from any gentlemen with cars in case I should be whisked off as was the case in Malta.  At one point I did ask a young man on a scooter but he had no idea of what I was asking – how does one pronounce “A’Koimitirio Athinon” ?  Obviously not as I was trying to say it !

In the end I had to give up and decided to “do” some of the more normal sight seeing venues.  The Temple of Olympian Zeus was a sight to behold and often overlooked in favour of the more impressive Parthenon.  Massive marble columns towered over me but even more impressive were the pieces from the collapsed column which lie on the ground just as they fell centuries ago.  My photo for this will have to bear the caption “Whoops, knew I shouldn’t have leant against this pillar”

Again, cats had taken up residence within the ruins finding that the low broken columns made ideal perches for sun bathing.  At one point I sat on the grass to eat the cheese rolls that I had brought with me from the ship for my lunch.  I made instant friends with one of the cats !  From my vantage point I looked up at the Acropolis with the Parthenon gleaming in the sunlight.  Everything that I had read said that if you see nothing else in Athens see the Acropolis.  I’m afraid that phrases such as this instanly put me off as I am such a rebel.  I looked at my watch and found that I had another two hours before being due back at the meeting point to catch the coach.  Oh well, I might as well play the typical tourist and climb to the top of the Acropolis.  All I can say is that I did just this.  It was one hell of a climb and when I got to the top I found that the Parthenon was adorned with two large cranes and loads of scaffolding.  It did absolutely nothing to inspire me.

Also on top of the Acropolis can be found the smaller but beautiful temple called the Erechtheion.  Now this was something to be seen.  The Porch of the Caryatids contains six larger than life statues of maidens carrying the entire weight of the porch’s roof on their heads.  No cranes nor scaffolding to spoil the scene here.

So the time came to make my way to the coach and be whisked back to the ship.  Other passengers told of riots occuring at Parliament Square in Athens and of roads and stations being closed.  Those who had taken the train suddenly found that they had problems.  The stations that were open were absolutely jam packed.  A train would draw into the platform, open it doors but be unable to disgorge its passengers or take on more because of the over packed platforms.  Apparently one British lady was pushed onto a train in the crush and the doors closed before her husband could board – screams of panic ensued !!  That night as I watched the news on the TV it showed the demonstration in Athens and of tear gas being used on the protestors.  It was obviously some divine fate that made me climb the Acropolis instead of walking up the road to Parliament Square to see the guards in their wonderful costumes.

The Magical Mystery Cruise - Haifa & The British Cemetery, Israel

We had been advised by our excursion team on board that it was not a good idea for ladies to go ashore on their own in Haifa.  I queried this as I could see no reason for such extreme precautions in what I considered would be a modern western city.   As it turned out I DID go ashore alone and actually felt ten times safer than I do every day on the streets of Croydon !

I wanted to try to find the British cemetery which I understood was quite near the centre of town.  A guy at the local tourist information desk could not find it marked on the map (can they ever !) but told me roughly where it was and what buses I could catch.  From the looks of things it seemed to be just up the road so I said I would walk.  I was advised in rather guarded terms that it was in the Arab quarter and that the bus would be better.  I walked !!

As it happened it was just fifteen minutes walk away and none of the locals gave me a second glance.  The cemetery seemed to consist of three sections – The Templar Cemetery which was that of the original German settlers dating back to 1869; the British Commonwealth War Graves Cemetery with graves from both the First and Second World Wars; and a final section which housed two large World War Monuments. All of these sections were immaculataly maintained.  The Templar Cemetery with lush vegetation and the other two sections with carefully maintained lawn.

The caretaker of the Templar Cemetery was very helpful and friendly and insisted that I sign his Visitor’s Book.  I then spent an enjoyable hour photographing the British war grave headstones.  By this time it was getting rather hot and I knew that I should head back to the ship for a break.  On the way out I noticed a rather battered looking metal gate at the rear of the cemetery.  I ventured up, peered inside and saw what appeared to be a fourth section of the cemetery.  This area had the appearance of not being cared for at all.  Granite chips took the place of lawn and there was no lush vegetation to soften the harshness of the sun.  Many of the crosses from the headstones were broken and lay on the ground.  I started to look at the inscriptions and to my surprise found that this was actually the old British Cemetery proper.  Here lay the civil servants, the railway engineers, the wives and children and – most impotantly of all – those members of the British Palestine Police who had given their lives during the 1930s.  I forgot that the sun was beating down on me (and that I desperately needed the loo!) and set about photographing these headstones.  The light was far too bright for the camera to be able to pick up some of the inscriptions but I did what I could.

On the way back to the ship I was overcome by sadness at the sight of this cemetery.  These poor souls were hidden away at the back as if their presence was an embarrassment.  I promised myself that after lunch and a short rest I would return in the afternoon.

At 2pm I returned and noticed that the sun was now casting shadows on many of the headstones and that the shadow made the inscriptions stand out from the bright stone.  I photographed all the headstones again in the hope of getting some better pictures.  Every five minutes or so I heard the monotonous clanging of a bell and realised that there must be a level crossing nearby and the bell was to warn of an approaching train.  A passenger train would pass and silence would reign for 3-4 minutes until the bell clanged again.  This time it would be a freight train and then silence for another few minutes. I ventured to the far side of the cemetery and noticed that the embankment was slowly crumbling away.  In a few years the graves on this side of the cemetery could find themselves rolling down the embankment onto the track.  This was definitely a folorn spot and I could find nothing good to say about it.  I laid my hand on the headstones and told them they had not been forgotten but in my heart of hearts I knew this was not the case. When I get home I will research as many of them as possible and do what I can to keep their memories alive.

The Magical Mystery Cruise - Massada & The Dead Sea, Israel

This was going to be an extremely long day as the drive to Massada was to take 3.5 hours from the northern port of Haifa.  I was up at 5.30am and off the ship by 7.30.  Today we had a wonderful Israeli guide who was friendly, helpful and informative.  What a change from yesterday.  We took a south easterly route to start with through the Yizreel Valley and then on past Mount Gilboa.  I was amazed to see how the efficient Israeli irrigation system has turned barren countryside into fertile growing areas – crops and fruit were in abundance.  Then we headed south through the Jordan valley and the countryside took on the appearance that I had been expecting – dry desert with rocky hills rising steeply from the roadside.  There in the distance was a small town nestling on the plain and this turned out to be Jericho.  A few miles further on we made a stop at Qumran which is the area where the Dead Sea scrolls were discovered and there at the foot of the valley was the Dead Sea itself.  The lowest sea on earth, so full of minerals that it is impossible to sink. 

Our next stop was at Herod’s Palace in Massada – way up on the top of the mountain.  A cable car ride was necessary in order to get to the top but then we had an incredible one and half hour tour of the site.  This was absolutely “out of this world” and thoroughly enjoyable.

After that it was off to lunch in a resort hotel on the banks of the Dead Sea and those who wanted to could try the experience of floating in the mineral laden waters.  I spent my time looking for photo opportunities but I did have the most wonderful buffet lunch – with wine.

By the time we left the shores of the Dead Sea at 5pm it was pitch dark and the drive back to Haifa seemed very long and tedious.  But what a day, what sights, what experiences.

Magical Mystery Cruise - Kyrenia, Northern Cyprus

During all those years when I was holidaying in Cyprus never once did I visit the place that I most wanted to go to – Kyrenia.   In those days it was not possible to cross the border in Nicosia and travel from Greek Cyprus into Turkish Cyprus.  Now the wall has opened up and at last I was able to make the trip.

I had hoped to bring news of a wonderful hour and half spent wandering the streets of this interesting town and of finding the old British cemetery which is marked on maps as “Ingliz Mezarligi”.  The cemetery is a fifteen minute walk from the central square so an hour at leisure would have been heaps for me to visit.  Alas, on this occasion, my plans were not achievable due mainly to the complete and utter disorganisation of the tour.  As we drove into Kyrenia after leaving the ruins of Bela Pais (which had included a 25 minute queue to use the one ladies loo !) I spotted the cemetery on the outskirts of town.  My excitement mounted and I was ready to jump off and speed away as soon as the coach came to a halt in the square.  However, as the guide showed us our meeting point I was greeted with the news that we had only 30 minutes at leisure !!!!  This was absolutely ridiculous and I was more than disappointed as I knew that there was no way for me to get to the cemetery.

Everything about the day was a disaster.  The female Greek Cypriot guide was abrupt and unhelpful in the extreme.  Time was wasted at both Bela Pais and at the restaurant.  Lunch itself was a complete shambles.  No proper arrangements were made for comfort stops during 9 hour day.  In fact so many complaints were made about the excursion that P & O had to resort to refunding us 33% of the cost – but the refund in no way made up for the fact that I had been able to see so very little of the town I had gone to see !!

Lets pass over this and move on to Israel.

The Magical Mystery Cruise - Kusadasi (Bird Island), Turkey

This was the second of our replacement ports of call and not having been able to do any research I had very little idea of what to expect.  I had three options 1) stay on board the ship all day – 2) take a very expensive organised excursion – 3) wander around the local area and try to find something of interest.  Option 1 was not a contender as I could never visit a port and not get off to see something of the area.  As there were some short tours on offer I decided to combine both the remaining options i.e. a tour in the morning and a short wander around town in the afternoon.

The tour I opted for was called The Glory of Ephesus.  What or where is Ephesus??  The city of Ephesus dates back to pre-Ionian times when the Carians and Lelegians lived in a wide plain near the Temple of Artemis, one of the seven wonders of the Ancient World.  St. John is said to have written his Gospel here and it is also meant to have been the last home of the Virgin Mary.  The ruins of this very ancient city are only ten miles away which is why Kusadasi has become known as The Gateway to Ephesus.

Our first stop was at the Basilica of St. John where I was greeted with the sight of tall pillars rising into the sky.  Huge chunks of highly carved marble dotted the ground lying where they had fallen from pillars centuries ago.  Here and there were large round earthenware water pots whose deep orange hue contrasted vividly with the white of the marble.  The guide spent 45 minutes explaining the history of the site and then allowed 10 minutes for photo taking.  Having been on a number of excursions in the past I know how frustrating this can be so right from the outset I set off on my own snapping picture after picture so that I have my own memories of the place.  From the ruined walls I looked down to see one single pillar rising from the plain below.  Apparently this is all that survives from the once impressive Temple of Artemis.

Then it was onto Ephesus proper and what sights were in store for me there.  The Temple of Hadrian; The Library of Celsus; The Marble Street.  The tour took us through the main thoroughfare from the high hillside entrance down to the plain.  If I had strayed too far from the guide there was every chance of getting lost here but whenever possible I struck out on my own for a few minutes.  It was during one of these “stolen” moments that I came across an American photographer.  She had two cameras strung around her neck the most impressive of which would not have looked out of place in a museum.  I asked her about it and she told me that it had belonged to her grandfather and that it still worked as good today as it had 55 years ago when he had purchased it.  In fact it took much better pictures than todays digital varieties.  She told me that she was a freelance photographer from a little town called York – New York (!!).  Apparently she was as frustrated as I was with having to stay with a guide but she had the flexibility of being able to return the next day when she hoped to visit much earlier in the morning when the light would be better for her photographs.  I bumped into her again on a couple of other occasions during the morning when both of us were again “stealing” time from the guides. At one point we both discovered one of the city’s cats who was posing unashamedly on a ruined pillar. It was lovely to see a livng animal amongst all the ruins but I bet her photograph will make mine look amateurish.  Who knows, perhaps one day I may come across the one she took in National Geographic and be able to compare them!

Well, the excursion may have been expensive but it certainly gave me the chance to take some wonderful photos – and I loved meeting the lady from the little town called York.

After lunch I took myself off into the local town of Kusadasi and walked around the harbour and out to the fortified island which was reached by a causeway.  This again proved a good vantage point for taking photos and yet again I came across cats who were desperate to get into my pictures.  I think I may have to rename this blog The Cruise for Cats. 

I have no regrets at visiting Kusadasi instead of Port Said.  It was wonderful to have the opportunity of seeing the ruins of Ephesus but I don’t think there is anything in Kusadasi itself which would ever draw me back.

The Magical Mystery Cruise - Medieval Malta

When I heard that we were to call at Malta I knew that there was just one place that I had to try to visit – the grave of Detective Sergeant Harry Battley who was killed in an air crash off Lampedusa in 1945.  I have been researching Harry for years so to come to Malta and not find him would be so sad.  The small cemetery was at Mtarfa but where was Mtarfa and would it be possible for me to find my way there and back to the ship in the few hours that we were to be in port at Valletta?  The easy option would be to hire a taxi for the day but that always proves highly expensive – and why take the easy option when there are probably more adventurous means !!

As always I was one of the first down the gangplank and headed off for the 20 minute UPhill climb into town.  I noticed the buildings were ancient and beautiful.  Pinkish, yellowish blocks towered up four or five stories above my head and all were dotted with balconies of various design and colour.  The streets were narrow and almost deserted as the city had not yet awoken.  I spotted a small grating at street level out of which poked the cheeky the faces of several kittens who had taken up residence in the vaults of the church.

After several false turns I managed to find the Tourist Information Office and enquired about the cemetery at Mtarfa.  Oh yes, there was a British Cemetery there but none of the tourist maps showed where exactly it was and none of the staff were able to point out its location on the map.  I was told that I could catch the No. 51 bus to Mtarfa and that the driver would be able to point out the cemetery when I got there.  For someone who always plans her journeys to the nth. degree this was not very reassuring!!  So there I was in a strange country heading for the bus station to get on a bus that would take me to a small village miles from the coast.  I must have been mad but when a grave calls there is nothing for it but to go !  I found that I needed to buy a one day travel pass for the princely sum of 2.60 Euros from the ticket office.  Then there was a 25 minute wait for the No 51 which I noticed went to Mtarfa via the ancient cities of Mdina and Rabat.  When the bus arrived I was almost carried on amidst the hustling, bustling locals.  The ladies were in fine voice and shouted and laughed about everything around them.  Off we set in the rush hour traffic heading out of town in a westerly direction.  I followed our course as best I could on a very basic tourist map and after 40 minutes found we were entering Rabat.  The next village - the last on the route - was Mtarfa.  I enquired of the bus driver the way to the British cemetery but he had no idea !  Great – now here I was in the interior of the country with no idea which direction to make for. 

The Magical Mystery Cruise - Cadiz , The Cup of Silver

I was up on deck at 6.45am to watch our arrival into Cadiz.  It was quite chilly but I nestled snugly inside my padded waistcoat with hood up to protect my ears from the strong winds.  The Cathedral and several churches were illuminated and stood out brilliantly against the bluish purple blackdrop which was the dawn sky.  As the sun rose over the horizon so my anticipation mounted.  The city looked every bit as I had imagined it – a jumble of low square white washed houses interspersed with tall watch towers of varying designs.  I could sense the Moorish feel even at a distance.

As soon as we berthed I was off down the gangplank to explore. I hoped to find the Tavira Tower which I understood was one of the few watchtowers that was open to the public and which apparently offered outstanding views of the city.  I knew roughly which direction to head in but I don’t think a map has been produced which can really show all the twisty turny narrow alleyways which are the main thoroughfares of Cadiz.  I marvelled at how cars and taxis could negotiate these tiny cobbled streets without knocking down the pedestrians but “shank’s pony” and motors all seemed to live in harmony.

There was an endless array of sights to tantalise and my camera was constantly busy snapping pictures here, there and everywhere.  The balconies were particulary fascinating for the bottom area curved out in intricate design.  I was told that in the 18^th. Century it was the fashion for ladies to wear skirts which had large rigid hoops at the hem and the railings had been designed to accommodate these.  On normal balconies the hoop would have hit the railing and risen into the air revealing a little too much of the lady’s underwear !!!!!

Miracously I found the Tavira Tower and had a ten minute wait before it opened at 10am.  In 1778 this tower had been appointed the official watchtower for the town because at that time it was the highest lookout point in the area. In general the towers were used by traders to watch for their ships returning loaded down with goods from the East and West Indies.  The door was opened punctually at 10am and I was the first customer of the day.  After paying the 5 Euro entrance fee I started the climb to the top.  Up and up and up I went with the stairs getting narrower the higher I climbed.  Eventually I reached the top parapet and ventured out to be greeted with the spectacular sight of the city’s rooftops spread out like a patchwork quilt before my eyes.  WOW.  My camera worked overtime but I cursed myself for not putting the telephoto lens in my bag before I left the cabin.  Never mind, there was more than enough to excite my imagination.  A little while later I heard some puffing and groaning and all of a sudden a man appeared through the doorway.  He told me there were two ladies following him but that they would take some time to get to the top.  Apparently these three were from the other cruise ship in port that day – The Independence of the Seas.  Cadiz was their last port of call before they headed back across the Bay of Biscay to Southampton.  Eventually with much huffing and puffing the two ladies made it to the top.  That was my cue to head down to the Camera Obscura which was one floor below.  The first show of the day was due to start in just a few minutes.  The Camera Obscura projects a movng image of the surrounding town onto a bowl shaped screen which sits in the centre of a darkened room.  The other three joined me in the room and the projectionist started the show.  It was fascinating but the part I enjoyed most of all was when the projectionist put a piece of cardboard down onto the screen and then “lifted” people up from the streets.  Of course, they would have no knowledge that they were being played with in this way.  It was rather an eerie thought to think that later in the day I might be walking the streets of Cadiz and that I might be one of the subjects being “lifted” off the screen for others amusement !!  The show came to an end and then it was off down the stairs and out into that maze of alleyways again.

I made my way back to the ship to get my telephoto lens – better late than never !!  Then on my second trip out I made for the Cathedral.  I had learned that one of the bell towers is also open to the public and that this is even higher than the Tavira Tower.  It was now mid-day and many of my co-passengers on the Oceana were now also out and about.  As I passed through the main square of town I noticed that some had found seats and had their noses firmly rooted in books.  They were all of five minutes walk from the ship and as ever I was amazed at the lack of interest that some people show in their surroundings.  Why on earth come on a cruise, visiting wonderful locations, if you are not going to show any interest in where you are?  How can they not want to explore?  Beats me !!

Soon I stood in front of the Cathedral with its two imposing bell towers.  At the base of one was a small wooden door which stood ajar.  I entered and in the dark interior found a small pay booth where I purchased my ticket for a fee of 4 Euros.  Then I started the climb but I was surprised to find that there were no steps.  The pathway up was a steep slope which went round and round and round and round.  This climb certainly got to me and it was not long before I was really huffing and puffing.  I told myself that if I could get to the top of Big Ben then I could make this.  I did – but only just !

Again at the top I was greeted with the spectacular sight of the city spread out before me.  But this time I was surrounded by the cathedral’s bells which suddenly started to chime.  As I now had my telephoto lens I was able to zoom in on some of the more interesting buildings – and to my delight I had a wonderful view of the Tavira Tower where I had been just a few hours earlier.  The climb may have puffed me but it was certainly worth the effort.

The rest of the afternoon was spent meandering through the narrow streets and soaking up the atmosphere of this Moorish town.  I noticed a street vendor selling salted nuts but he didn’t seem to be getting much custom as everyone was making for tavernas and coffee shops.  I went up and bought 1 Euro’s worth of nuts.  He was delighted and filled the paper cone to overflowing for me.  I am not certain what sort of nuts they were but they were delicious.

I was absolutely exhausted by the time I returned to Oceana in the afternoon.  I found just enough energy to go to dinner and then went to listen to the classical recital before collapsing into bed at 8.30pm.  I slept like a log.

The Magical Mystery Cruise - Oceana

Why have I called this the Magical Mystery Cruise?  Quite simply because at the time of embarkation I was not at all certain of where we were going to end up.  Months ago the second port of call, Tripoli in Libya, had been replaced by Alexandria in Egypt.  This was due to the troubles that were being experienced in Libya at that time.  Two weeks before departure I was informed that the ship was no longer going to be able to call at Ashdod in Israel – this time due to the troubled situation in Syria.  Then, three days before departure, I turned on the news to be greeted with the sight of riots in Alexandria and Cairo.  I tried to tell myself that this was just going to be a “storm in a teacup” but as the hours wore on it was apparent that the situation was getting worse and worse.  I tried to imagine myself viewing those magical pyramids with the sound of tear gas being fired in the background.  I tried to imagine myself wandering through the streets of Alexandria in search of the Chatby Cemeteries whilst rioters sped past me.  Neither were very happy nor very practical thoughts.  P & O were obviously going to have to replace the stops at both Alexandria and Port Said with other ports of call – but where ?  As I embarked I – and all the other passengers – had no idea at all what the final itinerary was going to be !

This is my first time on Oceana and she is certainly a lovely ship – about the same size as Arcadia but with a beautiful atrium rising up in the centre from Deck 5 to Deck 8.  The buffet style restaurant is The Plaza on Deck 14 and this is situated at the bow with the most incredible views out across the sea.  As always my very favourite part of the ship is The Prom Deck.  It is here, early in the morning and late at night, that I am able to get my exercise.  3.2 laps of the prom equate to one mile and on sea days I like to do two miles morning and evening.  When it is deserted it is the one place on board that evokes the feel of the old P & O liners which “back in the day” plied the route from UK to Hong Kong. If I squint my eyes up I can imagine those passengers from the early 1900s boarding with their leather suitcases and trunks adorned with hotel labels from exotic lands.  The ladies in their wonderful hats and fur wraps, the gentlemen in their tweeds.  Their feet would have stood on deck boards just the same as this.  They would have looked out at the vast ocean from the Prom Deck just as I do.  Here are the markings for Deck Quoits & Shuffleboard – just as they have always appeared. 

In 1909 Ellen Mary Hayes Peck wrote in her travel diary:   

Two hundred and fifty more passengers were added to the steamer list at Marseilles and henceforth the vessel was to be taxed to her utmost capacity.  Most of the passengers ere en route for a five weeks voyage to Australia, many of them were friends, and a general spirit of jollity prevailed, the decks presenting the appearance of a seaside veranda, with their tables, lounging-chairs, work baskets, and toys.  A sports committee was at once formed and games of all kinds were played (always for prizes) while a concert, dances and bridge enlivened the evening hours.

After a rather boring few hours traversing the Suez Canal she continued:

But if Nature was dull and lifeless, there was no lack of jollity on board the steamer; for the passengers were mostly English, and there were constant games or other devices for “killing time”, in which the English as a nation are so proficient.

It is just the same on board in the 21^st. century.  During the day deck games abound, lecturers expound on a variety of subjects, art, craft & dancing classes are held and the mysteries of digital cameras are explained.  Of course many just want to do nothing and that is also very exceptable.  In the evening there are classical concerts, pop concerts and musical shows – and of course there is still a Bridge Room for those who wish to play. 

During our first night at sea we hit rough weather as we approached the Bay of Biscay and half the passengers were confined to their cabins for that first full day.  I donned my wrist bands designed to prevent sea sickness and was able to explore the ship at leisure.

It was on our second day at sea that the Captain made the announcement that we had all been expecting – on the advice of the Foreign Office our calls to both Alexandria and Port Said had been cancelled.  I waited in anticipation to hear what the replacement ports would be.  I was not disappointed to hear that we would instead be visiting Valletta in Malta and Kusadasi in Turkey.  But before these intriguing places comes Cadiz, the oldest continuously inhabited town in the Western World with a history dating back 3000 years.  Watch this space !

Borneo Adventures Pt 2 – Brunei

I have wanted to visit the Sultanate of Brunei since 1977 when I was planning my first trip back to the UK from Hong Kong. At that time the Sultanate was still a British Colony but for some reason I never did get around to including it in my itinerary. So here we are some 34 years later and this time I was definitely going to visit - in fact it is one of the reasons that I booked this particular cruise. It is P & Os very first visit to the Sultanate so a little bit of an adventure for us all – even the ships crew.

The title of today’s excursion was “The Tempurong Experience” and it was to be a full eight hour day. It started off leisurely enough with a 30 minute coach ride into the capital, Bandar Seri Begawan. I am not certain that any of us were actually prepared for the next segment of our journey which turned out to be a 50 minute speed boat ride way into the depths of Brunei. Each water taxi carried 20 persons and because of the speed of the vessels we all had to be inside – in actual fact we were all hanging on in sheer terror as the boat careered along tipping up on its side as we went round every bend in the river.

I managed to capture something of the journey on a little camcorder which considering that I am terrified of being in small boats very near to the water line is a miracle in itself. The extent of the tilt was far more obvious as we looked out and saw our fellow companions in their taxis careering along either in front, behind or to the side of us. Goodness - whatever possessed me to book this tour !!!!!

We reached our destination safely enough but as we clambered out of the speedboat my legs were shaking like jelly.

After a short coach ride we arrived at an Iban Longhouse where, after taking off our shoes, we were allowed inside to watch a display of traditional dancing. One of the village cats decided to join us and stretched out lazily in the middle of the floor enjoying all the attention. We were then treated to tea & coffee with local delicasies – spicy sticky rice wrapped in banana leaves or bright green jelly like coconut sweets. The rice was OK but the bright green sweets were so delicious that I went back for seconds ! I then went for a little wander around the back rooms of the Longhouse and found a lady preparing beans for lunch. The kitchen shelves were crammed full of jars, implements and pots making my own kitchen back home look empty in comparison. I asked if I could take her photo and she kindly agreed.

When it was time to leave the whole village came out onto the verandah to wave us off. I noticed that one of our tour guides was busy taking photos of us with a whole variety of cameras and I think that these were the villagers cameras. It felt strange being on the other end of the lens but I smiled to think that we were just as much an attraction to them as they were to us.

After another short coach ride we reached a jetty where longboats were berthed. This time we were instructed that donning lifejackets was ABSOLUTELY essential as these boats are renown for tipping over and throwing their passengers into the murky waters!!!!!!!! What was that I had heard about possibly seeing crocodiles today ?!! Each longboat carried 5 – 6 people and getting in was an art in itself. This had to be done very carefully and very slowly to avoid tipping the craft on its side and spewing out those already seated inside. Once in and seated it was then a matter of finding the centre spot to keep the craft level. I was the fifth person to board our particular boat and Jane – a lovely lady with cerebal palsy – was then guided into the front seat. It took about 15 minutes for our whole party to embark in their boats and then we were off. This was no more a gentle ride than in our speedboat taxi for once under way we sped off down the river through the mangrove swamps. This was all well and good but I was even nearer the water in this craft than I had been in the taxi. I tried my best to get my little camcorder to work but my hand was quite literally shaking with terror. I had no idea whether I was capturing anything or not. But this was nothing in comparison to what was to come. As we sped further into the jungle we noticed an ominous movement in the water ahead of us. Oh my God – we were approaching rapids!! Before we could even scream out in fear we were careering over and through them with the boat bumping about all over the place. I might add that by this time there was also a couple of inches of water lapping around my feet. The longboat cruise lasted about 45 minutes and during that time we crossed many sections of rapids and learned that the only way to deal with them was to cling onto the sides of the boat for grim death – and pray !!! I might add that at the end of this segment there were quite a lot of rather green faces. Somehow or another I had survived one of my worst fears and felt exhilarated at the achievement. My inspiration actually came from a very elderly lady named Joyce whose legs are very shaky and not as strong as they once were. She told me she would crawl into the boat if there were no-one around willing to give her a helping hand – how could she miss such an experience as this. No way at all. One evening I had sat and listened to her story about when she had met the Guerillas in the Congo many years ago and how she had sat with her back against a sturdy tree so that she would not flinch so much when the silverback charged – as it was bound to do. What a lady – what a life.

Lunch by the side of the river under the shade of the jungle trees was very welcome. Local curry dishes followed by fresh water melon and papaya – all washed down with chilled soya milk. DELICIOUS.

We also had the 50 minute journey back from Tempurong to BSB in the speedboat water taxis but this was easy peasy after our experiences of the day. What an incredible adventure this cruise is turning out to be – and there is still Bali, Makassar, Borobadur and Singapore to come.

Borneo Adventures Pt 1 – Kota Kinabalu

I was again up at dawn in order to see the sun rise up behind the mountains of Borneo and after breakfast made my way into Kota Kinabalu. Life in this part of the world does not start until 10am so the local people were still at breakfast as I wandered happily around the streets. The aroma of spices filled the air as stalls and shops began to open their shutters . Quite by chance I found myself in the City Park and rested for a few moments in the shade of the lush green trees. This is the tropics and it was excessively hot even at this early hour. When I set off again I chanced upon China Town and took some interesting photos depicting the end of Lunar New Year with piles upon piles of red lanterns stacked up in a temple. Next it was down to the harbour where I was offered trips in boats to see the water villages – I declined and headed for the local market instead. The smell of raw meat and poultery in a sultry hot climate is not to be recommended so I quickly hurried on to the fruit and veg section. Here I found punnet upon punnet of green and red chillies, roots of ginger and spices galore. Mangoes were piled high in pyramid shapes, whilst bunches of green bananas were art forms in their own right. The last section was full of clothes and jewellery and tourist items and was the most tightly packed of all. The alleyways between the stalls were narrow and the atmosphere was claustrophobic, however, I did manage to find some individual pearls which I need to repair a very old bracelet. It was then back to the ship for a rest before the afternoon’s organised excursion.

“Colours of Borneo” was the name of the tour and it did not disappoint. First stop was a pottery factory where most of my fellow cruisers stopped to watch a demonstration. Not ever being one to follow the crowd I headed off into the back shacks and was able to take wonderful photos of pottery in the various stages of manufacture. The natural colours of the clay with the contrasting sunlight and dark shade made for some incredible pictures. A young couple were busy filling moulds and were delighted to give me my own personal demonstration of how plates and mugs are produced from moulds. I asked if I could take their photo and they were overjoyed that I should want to and insisted on seeing the photo once taken. What lovely gentle friendly people the Malays are.

Next stop was a batik factory where we all had to try our hand at batik painting – mine was an absolute disaster !! High tea was provided here consisting of flat bread with curry sauce – absolutely delicious. I took a cup of tea but was none too certain what it would taste like. It was a deep brown colour and had a rather thick consistency. I tentatively took a sip ready to gulp it down in disgust – but hang on a minute. What was that sweet taste? Could it be chocolate? Somehow or another I found I was drinking chocolate tea - again absolutely delicious.

After a short rest I wandered off around the area and found a perfectly heavenly scene of a translucent silver sea lapping gently onto a white beach. At one end near the coconut thatched sun shades drift wood had collected which again made for some beautiful photos.

The journey back to the coach was by flat bottomed longboat. What an experience gliding through the mangroves in Magical Borneo.

Manila - 24th. February 2011

I rose at 5.30 am and was up on deck at 5.45 awaiting the dawn. The sun did not disappoint and between 6 and 6.30 I was greeted with the most beautiful of sunrises. I was alone on deck and marvelled at the beauty of nature.

Today was all about being a tourist with a full day’s excursion booked up into the highlands above the huge sprawling metropolitan city. Our coaches were small 20 seater mini-buses and we were whisked away at 8.30am escorted by four police on their motorcycles. We were told that they were there purely to help get us through the traffic but I think we all realised that in today’s climate of terrorist activity that they were actually there to offer us a modicum of protection. What horrendous publicity would be caused if a group of P & O tourists got highjacked !!!!!! Actually these four young policemen were the absolute highlight of the day. They sure did whisk us through the traffic – it was just like being royalty for at every intersection traffic was stopped so that our small convoy of mini-buses could speed through. When the roads got particularly congested one of the policemen would direct all traffic on the other side of the road into one lane so that we could go down the free lane (in the wrong direction) and so not be held up. At points where the traffic was light the two police in front of our convoy would show off and make their motorcycles “dance” for us. It was all tremendous fun and when we did eventually return to the ship at the end of the day it was they who got a tremendous cheer and many hand shakes.

But what did we see on this day out in the countryside? To start with we were taken to the “Bamboo Organ Church” which is exactly what it says – a church which houses an organ made almost entirely of bamboo. An organist even gave us a little tune on it during our tour and it really was most remarkable. We drove through shanty towns of grime and poverty and through beautiful countryside where the fields were planted with pineapples and bananas. Up and up we went until we were greeted with the sight of Lake Taal and its volcano within a volcano. What a tremendous view – and what luxurious surroundings we were in - The Taal View Heights Country Club which is only for the very richest of Philippine residents. I don’t think that we disgraced ourselves !

We sailed at 5.30 and again I was up on deck – but this time to catch the sunset. At this time of day I was definitely not alone but I was able to click away furiously on my camera trying to capture something of the magic as the sky burst into flame with reds and oranges streaking through the clouds. What a sight.

Next comes a relaxing day at sea before calling in at Borneo.

February 2011 - HONG KONG

I had not realised how much I had missed Hong Kong until I returned on this trip which coincided with the Chinese New Year celebrations. As I stopped to watch martial arts troupes performing the Chinese Lion dance and saw the antics of the Lion as it strived to reach bunches of fruit and vegetables hung high in the air above its head I found I had tears streaming down my face. They were tears of happiness at being able see this wonderful spectacle again. In fact I found that I spent much of my first three days with tears dripping from eyes – the sight of The Peak rising majestically from the harbour at dusk just as the Symphony of Lights lit up the City with brilliant laser beams shooting from the tops of the highest buildings – the wonderful service from restaurants who considered it an honour that a single European Lady had decided to choose their restaurant over others. The emotions overwhelmed me.

I actually did very little sight seeing but spent the whole two weeks in my beloved Colonial Cemetery. Having recorded all the inscriptions some 20 years ago this trip was for taking photographs of the headstones. I achieved my goal of photographing graves in every section and have ended up with some 7,000 images – enough to keep me busy for the next 10 years as I enter them into my master database !!!!!

The weather was pleasantly warm for the first 2 days but then a cold front came down from China and it turned very cold and quite wet. But nothing could prevent me from enjoying my two weeks – not even the rib which I dislocated when trying to drag one of my suitcases from the carousel in the airport !!!! I managed to find an excellent Chinese Osteopath who put things right with one half hour treatment.

At the end of the 2 weeks P & Os Artemis glided through the harbour and berthed at Ocean Terminal. I boarded her the next day and sailed out at dusk as the sun set behind The Peak.