100% paper - Part 2

Lisbon got short shrift from us, sad to say.  The ship didn't dock until afternoon, leaving us with less time than we would have liked to explore.  And even though the ship was docked in Lisbon overnight, there was all that prep around disembarking that interfered with our enjoyment of the city.  However, we did find the greatest shop, full of hand painted pottery, all made locally.  Bought a small souvenir to go with our 'blue collection'. 

Oceania Cruises takes the prize for the best cruise ship disembarkation ever.  We left the ship in small groups and were directed to our luggage on the pier, where there were porters waiting to help.  After getting all the bags into the bus, we drove to the airport where we were met by Oceania reps who walked us to the check in counters for TAP Portugal.  What a zoo!  However, after checking in, boarding passes issued all the way to Victoria, that same rep walked us to Security.  It was such a relief not to have to find our own way around the airport. 

Things got a little more complicated after that.  Our flight left two plus hours late, arriving in Heathrow a half hour after our connection to Vancouver had left.  (I had read on TripAdvisor before we left that TAP Portugal had a poor on-time record, but I took the complaints with a grain of salt.  Right ... )  Once in Heathrow (that is one BIG airport) we were directed to the Flight Connections desk for TAP Portugal for re-booking.  Before that, though, there was Passport Control and Security (though I'm not quite sure why ...).  By the time we made it to the Flight Connections desk, to learn that we needed to pick up our bags, then proceed to the ticketing desk to pick up our tickets for the NEXT DAY, we were feeling a bit battered and bruised.  Poor Tom, managing his cane and lugging around the CPAP machine that was gaining pounds by the minute ...  So I went over the the Assistance desk, and got Tom into a wheelchair.

Things improved significantly after that.  The wheelchair assistant knew all the places we had to go, and the shortest distances to get there.  He took us to the baggage carousel, thought things were moving too slowly, so checked with the guy on duty.  He told us not to bother picking up the bags, just to get them re-tagged when we checked in in the morning.  He took us to Zone K where we picked up hotel, meal and bus vouchers from another TAP Portugal desk, then on to the right bus stop for the shuttle to the Novotel.  It was so nice just to follow him.

At the hotel we were reunited with two other Victoria couples and a family from Vancouver, all in the same situation.  Adversity really brings people together.  We had a few drinks, dinner, and got to know each other.  It was almost like a party.  We compared clothing and toiletry restrictions (you don't want to know).  We bought toothpaste and toothbrushes from the front desk (£1.50 each) and, thankfully, a UK to CA plug adapter so Tom could use his CPAP (£4.99).  And, there was free WIFI in the hotel, so I could post martini pix on Facebook, and get in touch with my brother who was arriving in Victoria to visit and was expecting to find us at home later in the day.

This morning, rested, showered and in the same clothes as the day before, we caught the bus to the airport, checked in - with Air Canada this time - renegotiated our seat selections, and were almost on our way, when the Air Canada rep noticed Tom's cane and directed us immediately to the Assistance desk again.  It was a 25 minute walk from check-in to our gate!  But we travelled in style, CPAP in the wheelchair luggage rack (really), past the line-ups to the front, through Security and via hidden passageways on to the golf cart which delivered us right to the gate.

Now, as for the paper hat - it was the subject of much discussion, whether to abandon it on the ship, or risk crushing it useless on the way back.  After just missing a cloud burst in Lisbon, we decided that it was charmed.  Happy to say that it further survived countless security checks and under seat storage on the planes.   Kind of like us!

Epicurious

So we're in this fancy Italian restaurant - reservations required - aboard ship.  Tom orders lasagna.  Tom LOVES lasagna.  After he's had a few bites, I ask, "How is it?" "Not as good as Rick's ..." Sigh ... Disappointed again.

Not in Kansas

I wonder if Tangier gets a bad rap.

All the literature the ship distributed warned us of disreputable vendors, cheating taxi drivers and not-so-helpful guides.  This fit in perfectly with our preconceptions of the place.  And then there were the plethora of adolescent boys on the walk into town who wanted to show us the Medina and the casbah ... for a fee (one of whom called me a "cheap tourist" when I waved him off).

As it turns out, we never made it past the city gates.  The sidewalks, when there were any, were pretty bad and, once inside the old city, it was uphill all the way, both awkward for Tom.  (Thanks, sweetie, for the excuse to stay inside my comfort zone.)

But you know, we had a nice chat - in fractured French - with one of the Harbour Police on his break who shared a bench with us, all about where we'd been and where we were going and where we were from.  And the fellows doing road construction all stopped to say 'bonjour' as we passed by.  And one of our fellow guests was telling us about the lovely and inexpensive tour they had taken with a local taxi driver. 

Wonder what the Moroccans say about Kansas ...

Ambassador training

I've been taking a lot of pictures of tourists this trip.  I don't mean that they're getting in the way of all my shots, though that is undoubtedly true.  I've been watching husbands taking pictures of wives, friends taking selfies, families leaving the photographer out of their memory shots.  The other day there were three men (who we swore were brothers, but they said, no - one from Spain, one from France and one from Greece) passing the camera around getting different combos of two of three.  So I've been going up to these picture-takers, and asking if they want me to take a picture of them together.  No familiar words are exchanged, just lots of gesturing.  Not one has ever said no.  They just pass over the camera, say thanks in whatever language works for them, and smile!

Cartagena

So much food, so little time!

We found another one of those chocolate shops, so we had to stop and check out that great-looking concoction the woman was eating the other day.  Turns out it's chocolate milk - but the richest, most amazing chocolate milk you've ever tasted - and churros - deep-fried dough,  kind of like unsweetened donuts, and HOT.  Mmmmm .... mmmmm.

Mid morning snack over, walk some more, then stop for beer and olives.   The olives seem so much richer-tasting over here.   Mmmmm .... mmmmm.

Here we go a wanderin'

Usually when we cruise, we take excursions to give us an overview of the places we visit. On this cruise, though, we've been taking the port shuttles into town instead.  Then, tourist map in hand, after marking where the shuttle bus stops, we start to walk.  We can count on finding three things: interesting side streets, a church, and a cafe. 

We find interesting side streets because there is actually no direct way to get anywhere.  No street grids here!  We turn into a street, walk to the corner, check the map, adjust our heading, repeat.  The buildings are beautiful, and I must have thousands of pictures already, just looking down the streetscapes.  Today we saw oranges and pomegranates (pomegranates!) growing in a garden outside an apartment building. 

We then stumbled upon a cafe and had iced coffee to cool down.  The cafe was part of a chocolate shop, and the woman at the table next to us had a cup of warm chocolate, kind of like fondue, into which she was dipping something that looked like cross between a bread stick and a donut.   I think Tom was hoping she'd offer him some!

Right next to the cafe was Plaza de la Reina where there was a .... cathedral!  And what a beauty!

One more interesting thing about Valencia:  They had a big flood in the 1950's when the river overflowed its banks, in some places 16 m deep.  To prevent this from happening again, they diverted the river around the city.  They contemplated turning the former river bed into a motorway, but instead turned it into a most beautiful sunken park, crossed every few blocks by bridges. (Hey, Winnipeg ....!)

100% paper

It is hot, hot, hot in La Palma de Mallorca.  I realized as we waited for the shuttle  bus to take us into town, that I should have worn my Tilley hat, hat-hair not withstanding.  We're talking really hot - drink-the-bottled-water-while-standing-in-line-waiting-for-the-shuttle-bus hot.  And, obviously, the locals know it: there was a street vendor waiting with a load of hats for us as we disembarked.  100% paper, only €10.  I bought one.

Goodbye Barcelona

Here we are, sitting on the verandah of our stateroom, watching the stir as the Marina prepares to leave Barcelona.  It's been a great couple of days.  Yesterday we took the Hop On Hop Off tour of the city, picking up the bus just a block away from our hotel on Av Diagonal (which my brain persists in seeing as Diagon Alley).  Saw some spectacular architecture, beautiful vistas, and learned much about the people of Catalonia.  We even saw some of Gaudi's work, though I must say that it's not really my cup of tea.  His buildings look quite creepy to me, and his sculptures, just incomprehensible.

Went back to Piscolabis for dinner, and had more ham and bread, plus their version of bravas.  I'm liking bravas a lot!  We also drank quite a lot of wine. We must have been there close to four hours - we considered the waiters part of the family by the time we left!  It's a real testament to the city that we felt so welcome.  After all, here we are in a foreign country, understanding neither the language nor the culture.  It  also takes a leap of faith on our part to open ourselves to the experience. 

We've been ordering food and wine not knowing what we're getting and, usually, not even knowing what it will cost. (The restaurant bills have so far been pleasant surprises.) We have been communicating mostly with gestures and English words of one syllable, and receiving similar replies.  We say gracias a lot.  (We don't know how to say sorry in Spanish. :-)) 

Goodbye, Barcelona.  It was very nice to meet you!    

Tapas

"You like ham?" the waiter asked.  "You like bread?"  And so we were introduced to two of the Catalan specialties at Piscolabis  last night.

We have, mostly, no idea what we're ordering to eat.  But, then, it's one of the things that makes travelling, well, adventurous!  In the hotel bar, the waiter's English was only marginally better than our non-existent Spanish, so we just ordered the first three items on the menu - bravas, grilled baby squids, and foie and mushroom croquettes.  We asked the waiter what "bravas" was, and he said "potatoes", "fried" , "spicy" and, I swear, "ice cubes".  We ordered them anyway.  When our cavas arrived with what looked like potato chips, we figured they must be the bravas, since they were both potatoes and fried, though not spicy at all, and we had clearly mis-heard the ice cube bit.  Seemed a bit steep to pay €7.50 for potato chips, but, when in Barcelona ....

The bravas, which subsequently arrived, were squares of potatoes (like ice cubes!), deep fried, with a dollop of sauce on top.  And, yummy.  And a staple on the tapas menu, apparently.

I've decided that learning a second language, at least the syntax, is over-rated anyway.  At Piscolabis we said "wine?", the waiter said "white/red?", we said "white", he said "sweet/dry?", and I pointed at Tom and said "sweet" and at myself and said "dry".  He gave us a big smile, tapped his head as if to say "Got it!", returned with two bottles of wine and proceeded to pour us each a glass.  Excellent choice!

We had deep-fried artichokes and deep-fried brie with the ham and bread.  Tom has decided that he can live on the ham and bread alone, they're so good. 

I'm liking this close-your-eyes-and-point method of menu selection.

The Glad Game

I re-read "Pollyanna" on the flight from Calgary to Toronto, courtesy of the GVPL's e-book lending program.

(Someone once called me a Pollyanna - not intended as an insult, he said.  I thought about it for a while, and decided he was right.  Thereby proving it ...?)

So, despite 13 hours of flying from Victoria to Barcelona, I am glad that:

-  the Mayor of Calgary flew (economy) with us to Toronto

- all our connections had enough wiggle room in them so that we didn't have to run like hell from one gate to another, even though both the Calgary and Toronto flights arrived late

- there were golf carts waiting and available to transport us from domestic arrivals to international departures - one end of the Toronto airport to the other

- the woman with three screaming kids on the flight from Calgary to Toronto sat in front of us, not behind

- the flight attendant on the flight to Barcelona whispered to us that the wine wasn't complimentary but, for us, it was on him

- Tom was fed before he died of starvation (see "wiggle room" - no time to eat between flights!)

- we're in Barcelona!