Life's a Stitch

Docking at Falmouth, Jamaica, evidence of the devastating hurricane was apparent. Blue tarped roofs and uprooted trees showed the damage.  Our ship was one of the first back to a town that depends on tourism.

We walked into town where some shops were closed permanently, unable to survive the four months without  business. A grocery store was still being powered by generator. 

We went to a craft market and I bought my nativity animal 🦒. Although a bit large, it came with the vendor’s story of hurricane survival, injury and determination.

Greg accompanied me geocaching. As there were no physical caches in the area, we completed an earth cache that could be accomplished from the 19th floor of the ship. It required reading background info on a geological formation, in this case a tombolo: a bar of sand or shingle joining an island to the mainland. 

We were required to answer questions proving we understood the concept and had observed the subject. Mission accomplished. And yet  one more country cashed in.

Two sea days were on the agenda before docking at our ultimate destination in Galveston, Texas. It was easy settling back into the shipboard routine, but this time I added my at home habit of walking at sunrise. 

Afterwards was knitting group, trivia and origami. Being progressive origami, each subject is more difficult and this day’s was a cat. The white one is the teacher’s, mine is the orange, showing signs of overfolding. Ellen’s, the black one, had an unfortunate ending being squashed in a fit of frustration. The next day was better for our turtles.

One of the best onboard eating places was the Food Hall, where there were a variety of small international food kitchens. The Indian food was the best and we were given a demonstration of baking naan on the wall of the tandoor.

We quarantined C to the cabin when he developed a hacking cough, sounding like many other passengers. That’s the problem with travelling with a few thousand people in a confined space. I’m not fond of these large ships. In the end, three of us caught the same cold despite meticulous handwashing. Just can’t control airborne disease. At least tested negative for Covid. 

We’re back in North America and are fully recovered.

There will be more posts for our holiday adventures.

It’s been 30 years since we were in the Dominican. The kids were 5, 10 and 12. Lots of good memories there.

The first day in the Dominican in the oppressive heat we walked from the port, past three baseball fields, over a bridge and into the town of La Romana.

It was a large city with a population of 250,000 in the greater metropolitan area. It reminded me a lot of urban Bali: the dichotomy of strong tourism with poor infrastructure and poverty. 

We accomplished a geocache despite being stopped by the police. I explained what we were doing, showing him the app and he gave us a thumbs up to continue. I think that’s the 33rd country in which I’ve geocached.

The next day we docked at Cabo Rojo at an amusement park built by the cruise lines. We stopped at a wonky village, like an outdoor funhouse, that was so disorienting I turned around. It looked so normal it took me by surprise. 

We headed past the $80 per person beach club to the free public beach about a 15 minute walk for a refreshing dip in the ocean.

There was a gift shop that only carried items made in the Dominican where I was able to find a tiny turtle to add to our nativity. We try to buy a little animal or angel from the countries we’ve visited. This trip I also bought a wee metal rooster while in Portugal.

Heading back to the ship we went by  the ATV track, a lazy river ride, a Ferris wheel and carousel not knowing they were all free or we might have given them a try and our priority was a swim. There were no lines so we figure there was an assumption that they would be as high priced as the beach club.

Tomorrow we’ll be in Jamaica.

The world gets smaller. On our last night at sea, admiring the moon on the water, the group of four next to us were talking about their post cruise plans. They were a Czech family, mom and dad and two grown daughters. We had the same plans and the conversation progressed. We were from Canada, all having lived on Vancouver’s North Shore at the same time. Turns out we knew their close friends from the Czech Republic who lived in our neighbourhood, directly across the street. We took a photo together to send to our former neighbours.

After six days we landed on the island of St.Maarten. Our goal was a good long walk on land, which was achieved despite the oppressive heat and humidity. We got a decent anniversary photo on the beach.

I spent the afternoon painting in air conditioned comfort. I can’t show my work as it’s a Christmas gift.

We celebrated 43 years at the onboard French restaurant with our official marriage witnesses, Ellen & Greg. It was the first time we’ve been together on the actual date.

The next day we docked at St.Thomas, V.I. that reignited childhood memories. Visiting my grandparents in Puerto Rico many years ago, my grandfather would take my cousins and sister on day trips to St.Thomas so he could stock up on duty free rum. 

I clearly remember at least four trips. The airfare was $26 on Eastern Airlines from San Juan. We also travelled on Prinair, where the seats resembled webbed patio chairs bolted to the floor. The worst trip I remember was on a ferry when the seas were rough. My cousins and I thought it would be fun to run back and forth on the bow as the boat rocked in the sea. I got seriously seasick, not a good memory.

Today was a beautiful day in St.Thomas. It was still recognizable despite the areas of development on the hills. 

We walked to the old town where a few familiar spots remain in between a crazy amount of jewelry stores. 

There used to be camera stores, one where my grandfather bought me a 35mm Minolta for my university graduation.

I am happy to say I didn’t spend a penny until we got to the Pueblo grocery store, the Puerto Rican  grocery chain where my family shopped. I bought two kinds of bouillon cubes with traditional spices.

Leaving felt quite sentimental. 

The next three days we’ll visit ports in the Dominican and Jamaica. Stay tuned.

1983 nautical mikes from Lisbon in the middle of the North Atlantic. No birds, no land, just ocean and sky. The sea depth is 5000m! I’ve done this route a few times in the past so I know the routine. Heading to the Caribbean, each day gets warmer. Soon we’ll see flying fish and an exhausted flock of birds might land on deck for a much needed rest on their long trip across the ocean. 

I find the routine quite relaxing, meeting new people, participating in activities as if it were camp for grown ups, watching the sea and the sky. 

E and I tried the Drop, a “ten story free-fall” dry slide. Reality was way better than it sounds. You are positioned enclosed in a clear tube, wrapped in a plastic padded mat, standing on a small platform. You hear the countdown and the platform drops from underneath you, leading along the first steep part of the slide. It never really feels like a free fall Halfway down you come to a stop. That’s what I thought would be the scariest as if you’d be stuck in a tube. You have to wiggle a bit to get moving again. It’s like a regular curvy slide until near the end when you come to a dead stop inside the tube with the end in clear sight a few feet away where there’s an attendant to help pull you out. I talked to a staff member whose work commute from the top floor to the eighth would be by slide. How cool is that?

The person who introduced me to audiobooks many years ago was inspired while on a cruise where she saw people engrossed in reading and missing the view. That’s when she began listening to books and shared her advice when she heard I was going on a cruise. What appealed to me was the ability to do two things at once: walking, cooking, knitting while reading. So that’s what I do when walking laps around the promenade deck. 

This cruise’s full length theatrical production was Beetlejuice. It went off without a sea induced hitch (it happens) and was quite impressive. 

On this, the last long stretch of sea days, following my usual routine I was walking on the promenade deck without my book. It’s interesting what you overhear. Tone of voice is everything. A much younger couple comes toward me. He says “You have ice cream on your shoulder.” She replies with a sneer, “well you can just lick it off then,” not a hint of come hither. Probably an unfortunate ice cream accident, but the story could have been a romcom moment at sea. She was unhappy about something. At our first dinner we unfortunately heard two adult brothers angrily debating their American politics throughout the meal. E politely asked them to tone it down, the request was not well received, and G sprang up to avert a near brawl. Those aside, you hear plenty of laughter and happy holiday sounds, punctuated by the excited screams of those brave enough to attempt the Drop. 

Tomorrow, our 43rd anniversary, we land on the Dutch side of the island of St. Marten.

The first night was a roughish night at sea. Not too bad, but not great. It wasn’t enough to interfere with breakfast.

I attended the knit and stitch meetup at 8:45 a.m. We were a group of six women from five countries. It went so well we stayed on to knit and participate in the morning trivia session.

The afternoon was dedicated to painting. I have a commission I need to work on, but started with something easier to get back into the rhythm. What a spectacular setting for painting.

I managed not to dip my brush in the glass of Diet Coke nor the wine. When we’re closer to land maybe there will be some plein air time.

We attended a comedy show – Rob Little – someone Ellen had seen on a ship six years ago. This one was rated G and not as raunchy as last night’s adult comedy show. And in the it’s a small world department, we were seated next to a couple who lives five minutes from us.

Day 2 of the 6 sea days was remarkably calm. Before I opened my eyes I thought I was in bed at home. The mattresses feel the same and the ship felt still.

Same routine as yesterday, knit and stitch group with a few more members, trivia, painting, walking. I walked 11 days in Portugal with no problem, but today my foot is sore. Probably a combination of the lack of variety in terrain plus all the city cobblestones the past few days.

I finished the little watercolour of the view from E&G’s recently sold lake property.

In addition to the main dining rooms, the upcharge specialty restaurants, and the buffet, the Viva has the “Indulge Food Hall” with seven open kitchens representing different food styles from tapas to Indian food with a commercial tandoor. The latter was our choice for tonight.

We indulged in our pastel nata (Portuguese egg tarts, literal translation = cream pastry) breakfast.

Afterwards we Ubered to Lisbon’s cruise ship terminal. We are sailing on a budget line (NCL) and every step of the process is slow compared to other companies. It took 90 minutes to check in with preferred access. 

It’s a brand new ship with an elegant modern feel. The cabins are quite nice.

Greg and I did significant city walking including a bit of shopping, a visit to the Christmas Market and a trek uphill to a viewpoint.

Day 2 started with a magnificent sunrise.

C woke up with a significantly swollen ankle from a slip at our previous hotel. There was no twist, or fall, just a hard knock against the wall so he was out for the count today. The room steward brought him a bag of ice and C spent the day with his foot up.

Walking to the train station we passed to art installations in progress, one of sand one of stone.

Taking the train to the suburb of Belem, Ellen, Greg and I went on a pastel nata crawl. First stop was Pasteis de Belem, one of the originals, using the same recipe since 1837. 

We crossed the street to try them at Manteigaria.

They may look similar, but the clear winner was Pasteis de Belem. A step above any I’ve had in the past. The crust was extra crispy, even the bottom, and the custard was less sweet, a relief from several desserts we’ve had here that contain sweetened condensed milk. With added cinnamon it tasted just like my grandmother’s custard.

Our mission accomplished, we boarded the train back to the center of Lisbon. It’s hard to believe this city has a population of 545,000, it feels much larger. 

E and G headed back to the ship and I had my own adventure, first stopping in an exceptional art supply shop. Willpower prevailed and I didn’t buy a thing. As if I need anything anyway. 

Next stop was Rei do Bachalao (Bacalao King) for a delicious Pastéis de Bacalhau, a potato and salt cod fritter.

I was not expecting to like it as my past experience was the fishy smelling salt cod my grandmother would cook in Puerto Rican and and overly salty, also fishy version we had on a previous trip to Portugal. A friend explained that neither had been soaked properly. I found it interesting the Romans preserved cod through salt drying in the 3rd and 4th centuries.

After a bit of Christmas shopping it was time to return to the ship. One hour after the end of the port strike tonight we will start our six days at sea.

The trekking party is over for now. It was an exhausting day although no walking was involved. It was time to return to Lisbon to return the car and spend a night prior to boarding the ship. The drive was nerve wracking on Portugal’s version of the autobahn. Our brains having been used to travelling at the speed of snails on the trail were assaulted with cars in the fast lane some passing at 145+kph. We passed an unfortunate accident in the opposite direction involving a bus and a rolled over car, no doubt travelling at high speed.

The landscape didn’t change much over the course of the trip, fields and hills dotted with groves of low trees,  but we passed an area of stork nests on power poles. It looked like a stork condo – each of those dark spots being a nest.

I, as navigator, was frustrated when we got to the city and exit names/numbers did not match what the gps was telling us. We made it back to our cheap and cheerful Ibis Hotel after many twists and turns in hilly Lisbon. 

E and I indulged in lunch with white wine while the guys re-entered the fray to return the car. We relaxed by booking a daylong tour to Sines for our unexpected extra day in Lisbon, but at dinner we learned that it too, was cancelled due to issues around the port strike.

We walked to a nearby take away chiaroscuro for dinner. While it cooked we had drinks and appies at a restaurant down the block while watching junior football on the ever present sports TV that accompanies dining in Portugal. The owner/chef recommended fresh goat cheese (mild as boccancini) with pumpkin jam and bread to go with our olives, that in Portugal are served in sufficient quantities to count as a serving of veggies. We were burned again by ordering a bottle of the house wine, forgetting that it doesn’t mean the least expensive.

Our main course was half a chicken, a rack of ribs (called a piano of meat) and two large sausages to share. Sold by weight it came to e15.50, a delicious bargain.

We were all ready for bed at an early hour, with visions of the Ibis’s breakfast hot pastel nata towers dancing in our heads. Stay tuned for our impromptu adventure in Lisbon.

OK, I lied. Greg and I added more to the total by walking to and joining the trail close to where the rain stopped C and I the day of our arrival in Lagos.

What a pleasant walk it was, primarily on boardwalk that took us past the lighthouse and all the way to our Air b&b.

The four of us drove to Silves for an adequate, but carb filled menu do dia lunch and a visit to the castle. Parking was sparse. We walked from the base of the town way up to the castle, located at a high point for defensive advantage, making it difficult to attack. The position also provides a wide view of the surrounding area and approaching enemies.

Tomorrow we’re off to Lisbon, one night in a hotel and two on the ship as there is a rotating port strike that requires us to stay an extra night for lack of pilot availability.

A photo from yesterday, last minute pack adjustments on the beach, typical of every day.

We were falling short of our 100k goal so this morning’s mission was to wrap it up by walking to the beginning/ending point of the Fisherman’s Trail of the Rota Vicentina. We found the official location at the Lagos train station. Greg took our photo as we pointed to our starting and finishing points. 

Ours wasn’t a straight line, though. We did 3 circular routes, 1 segment on the Historic Trail and the rest on the Fisherman’s Trail. Today we hit the 100k mark and more, so I’m happy.

We had a quiet afternoon doing laundry and relaxing, then walked most of it again. We had our second dinner at Pinao Restaurant and Bar. The best Cataplana so far. The restaurant has a Nepalese bent with spice level options. The medium was perfect for us. They keep comping us port after dinner.

Good strategy to keep us coming back. That and excellent food and service.

I can stop counting our distance now, but there will be plenty of walking to come on this trip and I will be posting, especially since we were notified of a change in our ship’s itinerary that puts us in Lisbon for three nights. Looking at day hikes right now.

We checked out of the pensao and drove through the countryside to Burgau. If you know me, you know I like tree tunnel pictures as much as I like lone tree photos. 

Burgau had a small beach nestled between two rocky cliffs.

Up we went in cobblestones to the clay then rock trails above the village.

In the distance we saw where a slide had taken out part of the cliff (blue arrow). Next to it dirt paths laced their way up (green arrow). There’s no way that’s the path so close to an unstable area, I thought. Think again. Those dirt paths were in our immediate future. 

Tre trail became more rocky and this was our descent. We didn’t notice the blue and green “x” symbol at the bottom indicating we had taken the wrong way. 

We stopped for lunch in the town of Luz.

Then the weather shifted to cold, grey and windy, looking like rain. We looked up the Google maps walking directions that would avoid the possibility of wet clay cliff paths and started up the cobblestones. 

By the time we made it to the top the weather cleared and there was a trail entrance. More steep rocky terrain requiring calculating each step. We looked back from whence we came.

The scenery completely changed at the top with a pine grove then peppercorn shrubs growing off a reasonable dirt trail. 

Descending into Lagos was reasonable, but it started raining. We gave up with 40 minutes to go and was rescued by Greg. 

We had requested early check-in at our air b&b, which was granted, however we waited in the car for over an hour and a half for the code to arrive. Just as we turned it into a party with a drink of choice for each, of course the code came.

The apartment is a bit dated, but a good size for the four of us. The only drawback being a heavy vanilla/floral scent.

We walked to a burger and fish bar, five minutes away: Pinhao. Entering we weren’t optimistic, but whoa, it was amazing. Staff and food were right up there. Dinner for four came to e80.

The rest of our schedule is to be decided before we head to Lisbon on the 27th for our transatlantic cruise.