Morocco Malta and the Med: Malaga, Spain
Dawn finds us in Malaga, our last new city on this cruise.
You can see the buses lined up already to take us on tours of the city.
In front of us looks like a huge beer tent!
We are told this cruise ship never moves. It is undergoing renovation and no one knows when it will finish.
Lots of Expats buying property in Malaga, forcing prices up, our guide tells us.
You can see the bull fighting arena from this overlook.
Malaga is proudly home to Picasso’s birthplace.
Once again we were trying to break down some of our larger Euro bills so we went into a supermarket where we found some small things. I went through the cashier and then waited outside for my husband. He got the old fish eye; maybe the cashier is wise to tourists needing smaller change.
Love to see recycling!
Tourists love Malaga. It is the end of November. The place is packed, expecially here at the castle.
The guide is finishing our walking tour, which has been crowded with many groups of people just like us.
As the guide finishes our walking tour, which has been crowded but informative and a lot of fun, he points out the way to the open market (!) and then shows us where we will be able to catch the shuttle back to the ship. Yes! He also points out one of the oldest ice cream shops in Malaga, famous for the quality and variety of its ice creams. Sign us up!
We thank the guide, tip him with great appreciation, and head off toward the old central market. If you haven’t guessed, this is one of our favorite places to eat (think really fresh), for taking photos, and for seeing people who really live in a place and what they are buying and eating. We find an outdoor restaurant where people are eating interesting-looking food. We get to know the couple at the table next to us; they are from Amsterdam and just down for a four-day weekend to soak up some beach time and some good Spanish food. What a luxury to just come to Malaga for a four-day weekend!
My husband’s beer glass was particularly beautiful. The beer was very good.
Above are Tomatoes and Tuna, very fresh, very good. Below are anchovies in a vinegar brine. A little was good, but this was too much anchovy, and raw, even for me. The green olives were delicious.
A brochette of grilled shrimp – fresh, delicious.
Spicy shrimp with garlic and peppers. You think you are OK and you are thinking how delicious this dish is, and then the heat hits you. Oh Wow! We had fresh bread to soak up the sauces.
We’ve saved room for dessert and AdventureMan kept track of where the famous ice cream shop was.
Look at that chocolate! It was decadent, so chock full of flavor. AdventureMan had the pistachio and says it was very fine pistachio ice cream.
No, not small servings, but it is our last day in Spain, and the ice cream is so good we choose not to feel guilty about it. As it turned out, it was so rich, I couldn’t eat all of mine anyway.
We walk down to where the guide showed us to catch a shuttle back to the ship, and – nothing. No people, no signage, nothing. Maybe we misunderstood? We walked about a mile along a tourist waterfront walkway and asked people; no one could tell us. At the other end, the Hop On Hop Off boat people said they thought it was back where we started.
Back where we started are some passengers we recognize, and they are all grumbling and complaining. No signage, no red-vested Viking people but this is where the shuttle is supposed to be and they were told the shuttle drivers were taking an hour or so for lunch. There is one young man that they think is with Viking but he is busy looking at his phone, does not seem to speak English (or doesn’t want to) and is not helpful. He does have a red Viking bag.
And then we see the shuttle. It is coming! We get on, and some of the crew get on and we are all riding back together but here come some more Viking passengers and there is no more room in the bus! The passengers are running across the busy street, waving their arms and yelling “Wait! Wait!” but the driver drives faster. We know they got back to the ship on the next bus, but they were angry!
Ah well. Small drama. We put on our swimsuits and head for the spa. As we soak in the waves and bubbles for the last time, we review the trip and think how lucky we are. We never had any serious rain, only maybe ten minutes in Malta. No big deal. And all the ports gave us what we needed – new sights, new experiences, new understanding of how the world works. We love our cabin, our stewards have treated us like royalty, and we’ve met some interesting people and some nice people. This has been a really good trip for us.
Tonight is a special night, a BBQ at the swimming pool with live music and dancing, loud speakers and games.
It is also Thanksgiving. We thought we would go to the BBQ but as we walk through it is crowded and we don’t see anywhere to sit, so we go into the World Cafe. The World Cafe is quieter and we have turkey and whatever else we want. We don’t mind missing the BBQ. We are not too hungry because of the meal at the market and the ice cream 😊.
Sailing away from Malaga.
We find life on a ship can be a little compressing; these stops in Cadiz and Malaga have given us what we need; time on our own to walk and explore and learn at our own pace, to stop and eat good ice cream when we want, to just sit and chat with strangers, to stop in a China shop for a hair clip – just time, time to ourselves. These are the things that make us happy when we travel.
Morocco Malta and the Med: Cadiz, An Unexpected Thrill
Too early for sunrise, not yet in Cadiz, and not allowed out on the deck – maybe high winds?
So this is the Explorer’s Lounge, where I hand out early in the morning, catching up with e-mails and Lectionary readings so I don’t wake AdventureMan.
I have a friend who brings me coffee and says “Madam! The sun is about to come up!” I can’t go outside, but shooting through the window works out. We are still not in Cadiz, plenty of time.
This yellowish haze is disturbing, and it is everywhere. Finally the sun sort of breaks through.
Shortly after breakfast, we approach Cadiz.
So here is the first unexpected blessing. This is the view from our stateroom:
This changes everything. We had booked a walking tour of Cadiz. We cancel it. We are so close we can visit everything on our own, at our own pace, and find a place for lunch.
From Google Earth:
Cádiz is an ancient port city in the Andalucia region of southwestern Spain. The home of the Spanish Navy, the port boomed in the 16th-century as a base for exploration and trade. It has more than 100 watchtowers, including the iconic Torre Tavira, which was traditionally used for spotting ships. On the waterfront is the domed, 18th-century Cádiz Cathedral, featuring baroque and neoclassical elements.
And this is what Cadiz looks like – a narrow isthmus and a quick walk from one side to the other. We are docked in the port to the North east, facing the Cadiz Cathedral.
It is just the kind of place we love – great for walking, lots to see, and we can do this on our own!
From Wikipedia: Admiral Blas de Lezo y Olavarrieta (3 February 1689 – 7 September 1741) was a Spanish navy officer best remembered for the Battle of Cartagena de Indias (1741), where Spanish imperialforces under his command decisively defeated a large British invasion fleet under Admiral Edward Vernon.
Throughout his naval career, Lezo sustained many severe wounds; he lost his left eye, left hand, complete mobility of the right arm, and had his left leg amputated in situ after being hit by the projectile of a cannon.[1] He perceived his wounds and physical limitations as medals, refusing to wear an eye patch to hide his blind eye. Wearing his past battles history on his flesh won the respect of his peers and soldiers.[2] Lezo used to say that the lack of a leg does not imply the lack of a brave heart. It is said that he sometimes recalled famous Dutch admiral Cornelis Jol, called “pegleg” because of his wooden prosthesis, as an example of a sailor who undertook great enterprises and achieved great renown, especially in piracy and privateering, despite his theoretical disability.[3]
Lezo’s defense of Cartagena de Indias against a vastly larger British fleet consolidated his legacy as one of the most heroic figures in the history of Spain. He is often recognized as one of the greatest strategists in naval history.[4][5]
We really can’t get lost in Cadiz:
The Christmas Market going up:
The Cadiz Mariner’s Church and mission
You would think below might be a church, or a mosque, but it is actually a private school for boys.
“To Sing is to Pray twice!”
We’ve learned something from our time in Barcelona searching for a hair brush (which, by the way, I had not lost. AdventureMan was right, it is a small brush and it was hiding in the bottom of my purse.) Now I’ve broken my hair clip, which keeps my hair out of my eyes and face while I am swimming or sleeping. It is totally broken, the wire snapped, it is useless. But as we pass this store below, I can hear the Barcelona hairdressers saying “China shop! China shop!”
China Shops are not always called China shop, but you can always tell from the outside because they are crammed with goods, and local people are inside buying what they need. I found a ton of hair clips, and I think I paid 79 pence (less than $1) for a hair clip. I hated to leave. They had a huge inventory of Christmas items, things I don’t need, thinks I can’t pack, but what if I never see them again? I only buy the hair clip, and am proud of myself, but with mixed feelings.
Then AdventureMan spots this store across the street with the most amazing display of PlayMobile figures. I was about to drift by, but he made me stop and pay attention, and I was blown away. If only I had little grandchildren and could justify buying them!
We’ve been hiking around Cadiz all morning, and we are ready to have lunch. We look and look for the right place – not too grand, not too stuffy, but with good local food. Finally, sigh, we settle for a place that is also full of Spanish tourists, so a tourist place, but Spanish tourists.
One funny thing happened here; a large group, maybe 12 mobility-impaired people and caretakers, came in, and a table was put together for all of them, and they got menus while one woman took her husband to the washroom. They kept not ordering. When the couple got back, they all got up and left.
We ordered tourist stuff – fish, grilled peppers, paella. It was good and we had a great time watching all the people pass by.
We have to be very careful not to catch this woman’s eye; she is soliciting tourists to buy hand made “African” bracelets, but what catches my eye is her headdress and clothing. When the police show up, she fades away quickly.
As we sit here eating lunch, we see group after group of Viking passengers pass by.
After we eat, we head up the street, only to discover our next blessing which is also a little disappointing, but oh well, it is what it is. Around the corner, if we had just gone a little bit further is the open market! It is colorful, and full of fresh beautiful vegetables, meats and seafood. AdventureMan needs to try some local sherry.
We leave the market, wandering our way back towards the ship. AdventureMan spotted an ice cream shop he wants to try. I got a very black chocolate ice cream, maybe the most chocolaty ice cream I had ever eaten. I think he can’t remember which he had, perhaps a cherry, but he says it “was all good. We had some good ice cream on that trip.”
We take our time heading back to the ship. Cadiz is so walkable, so much fun.
You can quickly go through the rest. I fell in love with our view and the sun setting behind the Cadiz Cathedral, our last thrill for the day in Cadiz before sail away.
I think this is the night we eat in the ship’s Italian restaurant, Manfredi’s. We had reservations for another night but canceled them when we discovered it was French night at the World Cafe.
The food was pretty good. People compete for these reservations. Our perception is that we have equally good Italian food other places, often better.
We also have discovered this about ourselves – we like food, and we are both a little on the attention deficit side. Sitting for a long time in a restaurant being served makes us restless. We really like the World Cafe; many of the foods are the same ones served in the Dining Room and the specialty restaurants without the time-consuming service. We can also exercise control over the serving sizes and sample something we might like to try but might not like to eat. We like getting up and walking, and we like that if there is something we like a lot, we can go back and get a little bit more. The World Cafe works well for us.
Morocco Malta and the Med: Not Even a DAY in Rome
Viking Saturn arrives in Civitavecchia, not Rome. It’s a couple hours plus to Rome.
OK, real world stuff here, I am about to do what we call a First World Whine. Meaning in the larger scheme of things, we know how very lucky we are to be able to do these trips. And we are having a ball. And – I think I may be getting old. It feels like there are not quite enough hours in the day. Not to see all we want to see, or to understand all that we see, or take notes on what we see so I can make sense when I share these trips with you.
So today we are “in” Rome, but we are docked in Civitavecchia, a port about two hours drive from Rome. We signed on to a sort of Rome on Your Own kind of thing because we have never been to Rome before, we know what we want to see and do, and we want to do it at our own speed. We’ve signed up for the earliest trip into Rome, and we plan from there to catch a shuttle to the Coliseum, because, well, you go to Rome and see the Coliseum and the Trevi Fountain.
This won’t even be a “day” in Rome, this will be like five hours in Rome, and I am trying not to feel the pressure. Whatever time I have, I want to experience Rome, I want to feel Rome but oh, the pressure is mounting. Aargh.
Our guide is delightful. She hands us a map, and she hands us a card, and tells us where we will need to br to catch the bus for the ride back to the ship. This is the card for the tour company:
Civitavecchia is a pretty cool old city on its own. If I ever have a chance to spend four or five days really seeing Rome, then I would choose the next time I landed in Civitavecchia to just visit Civitavecchia. It’s full of old structures, and it’s been featured in several Dan Brown-type novels where the characters travel impossible distances in impossible times and solve ancient mysteries with intuitive leaps.
So Plaza de Popolo; our first stop so we can catch the shuttle to the Coliseum; we will finish up here at the end of our few hours.
Love Viking signage!
It’s early. And there are already hundreds of people. We take the requisite selfies and skedaddle.
Check!
It’s supposed to be cold in the morning, maybe a little rain, and warm in the afternon. We carry go-bags with the minimum to meet all the requirements, plus water and something chocolate in case of emergencies.
We have several things we want to see – AdventureMan has found the Pantheon on our map, and the place our guide recommended for a lunch were the Romans might eat, and the Trevi fountain, and between the Coliseum and Plaza de Popolo we can see those, and whatever else we see. We just want to soak in a little flavor of Rome, and we can do that by walking, and hitting some of the back streets and lesser-known sights.
Actually, once we shoot those photos with the Coliseum, we start having a good time. There is really nothing we HAVE to do except be at the meeting place at 3:15.
Now comes another small adventure, and another wonderful hairdresser story. We can see the restaurant we want to go to on the map, but no matter how we try, we can’t seem to get there. AdventureMan sees a hair salon, and pops his head in to ask for help. A guy sitting there asks what he is looking for and when AdventureMan tells him the name of the restaurant, he gets a big smile on his face and says “My friend works there! I will take you there!”
AdventureMan had thought he was a customer, but no, he was a hairdresser and was relaxing between customers. He was a very nice man; we talked as we walked to the restaurant, and when we got there, he found his friend, introduced us and told him to take good care of us, that we were his friends.
We loved the place. And we loved the food. And we loved the nice young man who took such good care of us. He looked at me and said “I know you are American, but I think you family is from here.” I said no, we were mostly Swedish, and he laughed and said “You look like you are from here.” And he approved of everything we ordered, and brought us good wine.
These were roasted artichokes, Jewish style, and you could eat the whole thing, even the stem. SO delicious!
I love this baker in the background, with his load of bread, phoning someone to say he is here.
We find the Trevi Fountain, under construction, OK, check. LOL.
We found the river, and walking alongside it was so relatively serene.
AdventureMan has a philosophy that if it isn’t forbidden, it is permitted. He loved this driver’s panache.
We have fifteen minutes before meetup, back at Plaza de Popolo. We’ve had a great day. We grab a couple espressos at a cafe so we can use the restroom before the drive back. AdventureMan discovers he actually likes espresso and says it is a lot like Turkish coffee.
The Christmas markets are just starting to set up, but are not open yet.
My FitBit is confused by the time change; keeps track of steps but not hourly requirement.
This is so frustrating. Back on board, we attend a lecture by Professor David Kohl. It is speculative and also entertaining, but I wish I had heard the lecture BEFORE the Rome visit as he mentions two of the oldest churches in Rome that I would have loved to see.
So the sun is setting over Civitavecchia and we are getting ready once again to sail away.
Morocco Malta and the Med: Ajaccio (Corsica) and Napoleon
Early morning arrival in Ajaccio
Breakfast at Mamsens, the small Norwegian style kiosk in the Explorer’s Lounge. We love their waffles with fruit and I especially love the golden gjetost, soft smooth and nutty.
We can see the buses lining up for our excursion. We signed up for the earliest; I like the early morning light for photos and we are docked right in town; we can leave the tour as it finishes and explore on our own. We hope we can also have lunch in Ajaccio. We’ve never been here before, and AdventureMan is a long-time appreciator of Napoleon, his strategies and tactics, who was born in Ajaccio.
Sometimes I overthink. My morning is cloudy and grey, and light flat and sullen. Ah well, we do the best we can with what we’ve got. Fortunately Viking has their nice bright red canopy and carpet to usher us off the ship and to our buses.
The light fixtures are interesting, Napoleonic crowns
Napoleon looking at AdventureMan with appreciation. 😉
The cave of Napoleon (he hid there? I don’t know the significance.)
We drove along the coastline, I never mind a coastal drive! This is some of the priciest real estate in Corsica, overlooking the sea. These are family crypts, so beautiful that families picnic, even sleep in these houses where their family members are encrypted.
We come to a rest stop, and the three island/mountains with towers on top are significant, but I can’t remember how. It is sunny now, and windy, and we appreciated the time to walk and breathe in the sea air. Their were powerful waves hitting the wharf, so it was chained so we wouldn’t walk out there.
Back in town, we exit the bus at the church where Napoleon was baptized, which is undergoing some repairs and renovations now, but they let us go in.
We are told that these are Corsican windows, special to the area because Corsicans are snoopy and into one another’s business and these windows allow snoopy women not to be seen but to keep up with the happenings in the neighborhood. I tell you this because in Malta, these same windows are reported as a Maltese invention because Maltese women are snoopy, and in Rome, of course they were a Roman invention because – well, you get the picture. I guess the women were snoopy because they were often confined to the home, and learned what they could by peeping out these screened windows?
The next church was dear to my heart, the Mariner’s church. Far less elaborate than Napoleon’s church, this church was in place to pray for those who go to sea, who fish, who are sometimes late returning, and for those who never come back. Growing up in Alaska, among fishing folk, I have a great respect for and a healthy fear of the sea. I feel at home in this beautiful, heart-felt church.
Leaving the Mariner’s Church and nearby, the Fortress and moat. And something else, can you see?
I’ve changed the angle just a bit, can you see now?
That’s our ship! We’re the only ship docked in the center of town, and you can see it from everywhere. We have no concern leaving the group when we are ready; we know how to get back to the ship before it sails.
Our guide implied that the people of Ajaccio are actually prouder of Pascal Paoli than Napoleon, and that we should be too, we Americans. Do you know who he is? Wikipedia says:
Paoli commemorated in the United States
The American Sons of Liberty movement were inspired by Paoli. Ebenezer McIntosh, a leader of the Sons of Liberty, named his son Paschal Paoli McIntosh in honour of him. In 1768, the editor of the New York Journal described Paoli as “the greatest man on earth“. Several places in the United States are named after him. These include:
- Paoli, Colorado
- Paoli, Indiana
- Paoli, Kentucky
- Paoli, Oklahoma
- Paoli, Pennsylvania, which was named after “General Paoli’s Tavern” a meeting-point of the Sons of Liberty and homage to the “General of the Corsicans”.
- Paoli, Wisconsin
Our guide told us that the first democratic constitution in the world was Paoli’s 1755 Constitution for the independent Republic of Corsica and that it was written in conjunction with with Thomas Jefferson and was directly influencial in the formation of the US Constitution.. I can find no verification of that information, but I found the following in Grunge. Hmmmm.
The American Dream is born
Emanuel Leutze
Across the Atlantic, Patriots in the Thirteen Colonies eagerly followed the Corsican War. According to the Journal of the American Revolution, Corsica’s heroism made Paoli highly respected in America, inspiring the Patriots (especially the Sons of Liberty) to push for a war of independence. William Pitt called him “a hero out of Plutarch.” According to the Colonial Society, the leader of the Boston Riots, Ebenezer Mackintosh, named his son after Pasquale. At Columbia University (then King’s College), a battalion of student volunteers of the NY militia nicknamed “the Corsicans” formed in 1775. Its most famous member? Alexander Hamilton.
Pennsylvania, Ohio, Indiana, and Wisconsin all contain towns named Paoli after that famous Corsican hero. At Paoli’s Tavern, PA, British forces defeated George Washington and Anthony Wayne. The significance of the name was surely not lost on either side. But was Paoli’s spirit present at the Old Pennsylvania State House in 1787?
According to Thomas Jefferson, he was not. The US Constitution was a purely American product, free of foreign influence. But Georges Coanet, secretary-general of the Pasquale Paoli Foundation, during a visit to Paoli, PA, noted that Paoli ran in the same Masonic circles as Benjamin Franklin and Lafayette, so they would have at least known about his constitution and ideas. It will never be certain, but given his American fame after Ponte Novu, it is certainly plausible that Paoli was at least on the minds of some of the founders during that hot Pennsylvania summer.
Read More: https://www.grunge.com/441925/the-heroic-story-of-the-island-that-inspired-the-american-revolution/
Paoli and the Bonaparte family did not get along. There’s a history. Below is the house where Napoleon was said to be born.
Lots of little shops open selling Napoleonic schlock, but it is Monday, and the Napoleonic Museum is not open.
At this central plaza, we separated from the group; I knew where the open market was and I wanted to see it. It was nearby. It was closed. No big deal, I also urgently needed to buy some mascara, and we had seen a large French department store on a main street, so we looked it up on Google and followed the blue dots until we got there. French store, lots of mascara, emergency met. As I paid at the caisse, I had to wait while a very long conversation took place between the cashier and a woman I thought to be a customer. But no, the cashier turned to me, although the other woman kept talking, and took my payment.
We are always trying to break large Euro bills so that we have small coins for bathrooms and for tips, so I broke a 100 Euro bill and as the cashier handed me the change (the mascara was not expensive so there was a lot of change) the woman was talking to me, and she was telling me she had not eaten for several days and that she was very hungry.
I am on a 23 day trip on a large ship going to wonderful places and I have a fist full of change in my hand. A part of me feels extorted, and a part of me sees me – privileged, buying a luxury, not a necessity, and with a handful of bills. I was ashamed I had even hesitated. Yes, I gave her some money to eat.
I never know when it is right or wrong, and I am sure I have been taken advantage of. In my readings, I came across this exhortation in scriptures: Matthew 5:42 Give to everyone who begs of you.
We are hungry, and we wanted to eat in Ajaccio. We find a place that looks promising, there is a local man sleeping with a glass of brandy in his hand and a dog on his lap. We take that as a promising sign. Here is another promising sign:
We love this name, liberally translated “The Hole in the Wall”
If you look very closely, you may see the sleeping man and his dog on his lap 😊
My husband orders the Entrecôte, and I order the Aioli Maison Cabillaud. It’s too much food, but it is delicious! Sorry, I ate most of my fish before I remembered to take a picture.
Here’s something interesting to me – we eat like kings. On these cruises, we eat what we wish, and we eat desserts. We are walking so much – most days 10,000 steps or more. Sometimes way more. We are so active, the weight doesn’t stick. Also, we really like vegetables and salads and seafood with lighter sauces or no sauce at all, so we don’t worry, and we don’t gain weight. Also, the desserts served on board are very small, and even so, we might split a dessert so we usually get home our same weight or – even a little less! It’s a mystery.
We walk back to the ship – we had wine with lunch and are ready for a short nap. After our nap, we head for the spa, the beautiful Viking spa with hot water pool, a snow room, a wet steam room, a dry steam room – oh what luxury.
We are back in our cabin for sunset and Sail Away, and we see a spectacular sight – it’s nearing sunset, and suddenly the starlings start flocking; they look like schools of fish in the water, same movement, a glorious, joyful dance! I looked it up. It is called a murmuration. A murmuration . . .
This must be a frequent occurrence; guns are going off all over town, and fireworks. I don’t know if it is to keep the starlings from landing or to provide everyone with this spectacle.
At sundown the Christmas lights come on!
And we sail away from Ajaccio.
Morocco Malta and the Med: Barcelona Farewell as We Board Viking Saturn
Today, we board the Viking Saturn. We have to have our bags in the hallway to go to the ship by 0700, and we have to check in with the Viking organizers to get our bus assignment. First, we have to have breakfast, us and all the other Viking passengers gathered in the hotel. There are long lines and few tables for two, so we are put together with six others at a large table, and it is fine. We discover something in common – we are all excited by the itinerary.
At this point, I want to tell you something odd. Or maybe not so much. We are just a week away from one of the most contentious elections in American history, the victor claiming a mandate with a tiny margin over his opponent, and in all my little chats with fellow passengers, it never comes up. Never. And the entire trip, 23 days, it never came up. For a year, we’ve been talking about the election. Now, nothing. Not a word. And no, I’m not about to bring it up, I just find it weird.
I needed my camera, and there were so many people waiting for the elevators, I decided to walk down. About ten stories down I thought maybe I should try the elevator, but the key card only unlocks to door to the floor your room is on, and I still have another ten plus stories to go. Oh well. I walk the entire way, find my camera, and take the view above, with the sun rising over Barcelona. Later, I pay dearly for the 23 story downstairs hike becoming acquainted with muscles I didn’t know I had.
Our bus assignment is one of the later ones to leave; they time these things so as not to overcrowd any one location with too many Viking guests. We don’t mind; our bus is only half loaded and very comfortable. As we leave, there is another motorcycle car accident outside our hotel, with all the police and emergency people.
Our first stop is at the Arc de Triomf built for the Barcelona World Fair in 1888. The Fair took place to bring some revenue into Barcelona during a desperate time but also gave the city an opportunity – and excuse – to demolish the Citadel and replace it with much-needed green spaces for Barcelona’s citizens.
I love this building, designed in the Modernisme style by Liuis Domenech i Montaner. Here is what Wikipedia tells us about him:
His buildings displayed a mixture between rationalism and fabulous ornamentation inspired by Spanish-Arabic architecture, and followed the curvilinear design typical of Art Nouveau. In the El castell dels 3 dragons restaurant in Barcelona (built for the World’s Fair in 1888), which was for many years the Zoological Museum, he applied very advanced solutions (a visible iron structure and ceramics). He later developed this style further in other buildings, such as the Palau de la Música Catalana in Barcelona (1908), where he made extensive use of mosaic, ceramics and stained glass, the Hospital de Sant Pau in Barcelona, and the Institut Pere Mata in Reus.
This is the Castle of Three Dragons!
I remember Spain used to be a country where we needed to dress modestly. It is mid-November and we are wearing long sleeves and sweaters. These lovely fitness seekers must be cold!
Parakeets!
Port of Barcelona
The highlight of the bus tour – an hour at the National Museum of Art of Catalunya. If you had your passport or something proving you were over 65, you got free entrance to the special exhibits. I had a copy of my passport page and AdventureMan’s passport page. I told the cashier we were OLD and she laughed and gave us tickets to the special exhibit I wanted to see with very early church art preserved in this museum.
I hope you find these as breathtaking as I do!
Don’t you love how little Jesus is crouched on Mary’s lap?
Our ticket also allowed us access to the Museum roof, with 360 degree views of Barcelona.
A last view of what we learned was once a bull fighting arena, which has been transformed into a Mall.
So now we are delivered to the ship, and we are starving. We quickly embark, drop our gear and head for the World Cafe, where we can find something to eat. Dan Noodles for me, with Chinese shrimp. Yummm.
This is our view, and this is our cabin.
Lots of storage space
Sail Away from Barcelona.
Dinner as we sail away
Morocco Malta and the Med, Day 2, A Nightime Adventure
Fresh from our nap and not sure where we want to eat, we head out to accomplish a small errand. I have discovered I have lost my hairbrush. This is an emergency. Brushing hair is a must do! AdventureMan is sure I have misplaced it, so I look again, and it is nowhere to be found. But how hard can it be to buy a hairbrush?
Harder than we thought. We pop into a couple grocery stores, where they have everything, everything except hair brushes. We head into the side streets, where I find a hair salon and go in to buy a hairbrush. This turned into a real comedy. They couldn’t understand me, so I spoke French, and they got the brush part they were very concerned. I finally figured out they had no appointments for me, they thought I wanted my hair brushed. I kept trying to explain. AdventureMan left to see if he could find anything, but came back and we were still trying to figure it out. Finally, they understood I wanted to buy a brush, but they didn’t have any for sale. They were so kind, and by the time we finished, the entire shop was engaged in trying to help me.
“China! China” and they pointed to the right, and then to the left. “China!”
We never found the China shop, but AdventureMan found a Pakastini shop that carried a little of everything and spoke Arabic; he just reached behind him, pulled out a brush and it was great. First problem solved.
Now, where to eat? We are not out on the main street, but these back streets are intriguing. Like this is where real people are living, buying groceries (and hairbrushes) and there are restaurants, not fancy, but we walk until AdventureMan finds one he wants to try.
We go in and find a table and ask for menus, and a table of guys drinking next to us starts raising a ruckus and looking at us. It’s hard to be a stranger.
The manager or bartender admonishes them lightly and takes our order.
I am thinking it might not be the right time to be eating, maybe it is only time for drinking and maybe little tapas until dinner time, which in Spain is a lot later. But we order, and everything seems OK.
AdventureMan orders a Fisherman’s Soup, and I order a different kind of soup, and we share a plate of grilled peppers. The soups are some of the best food we had on the trip.
I ended up with a soup that was white beans and some kind of pork, hammy pork, and vegetables. The broth was flavorful, probably had more salt than we normally use, so it was delicious. AdventureMan’s soup took the prize, though. Full of fish and shellfish, with a broth that could almost stand up, it was so strong.
If we hadn’t gone off the main road looking for a hairbrush, we would never have ended up in this little neighborhood pub place with its delicious soups!
It’s a risk. We went against conventional wisdom. The streets were darker, and smaller, and might not have been so safe – Barcelona IS a big city. The walk back to the hotel was a little bit scary, but nothing happened, and we had a small adventure and a really good local meal. As we passed the hair salon, they were still open, so I waved my hairbrush in victory, and the hairdresser came out and hugged me in joy and said something (I have no idea what,) but she was joyful with me. I call that a great adventure.
Morocco Malta and the Med: Day 2 Barcelona and Monserrat
Traveling with Viking passengers is to see ourselves in others. After a good nights sleep, we are up at dawn to have breakfast before our guide, James will arrive to pick us up at 8:15 to get us to Monserrat and in to see the Black Virgin before the crowds.
Too late. When we get to the restaurant, there is already a line of Viking early-birds in front of us. Fortunately, it is a large restaurant, and we all get seated quickly. The buffet breakfast is lovely, all kinds of cereals, breads and condiments, fresh egg dishes, lots of breakfast meats. It seems to be there is something to make everyone happy.
The restaurant is on the top floor and has views to die for in every direction. I’ve been trying to get to the roof deck and pool, but it seems it can only be accessed through the restaurant, and only during certain times. I kept trying. I never made it. It may be because it is mid-November and most people aren’t looking for a pool.
We booked with Autos Driver through Viator. Our driver and guide, James, showed up promptly at 8:10 (we were ready) in a suit with a slick shiny new Mercedes. We were impressed. He explained what we were seeing as we exited Barcelona to head for the serrated mountains (the meaning of the name Monserrat), and made it all relatable by putting it all in context. We really liked James. The statue below is in the industrial area.
Looking back toward Barcelona and the sun rising through the haze.
You can see why it is called “serrated mountains.”
We stopped for a stretch break at Santa Cecilia, a former nunnery, now an event venue.
On the left is James, who made this day so special for us, telling us the inside stories of Barcelona.
Our first view of Monserrat is of St. Michael’s Cross:
Tickets have to be reserved, and are for certain times only. James was looking out for us, contacted us ahead of time, picked up the tickets and had us to the line with plenty of time. He showed us where to meet with him after the tour of the Church and the Black Virgin.
It’s November. We had thought it would not be too crowded early in the morning, but it was full of Japanese tour groups, mostly school groups. We wedged between two groups as we waited to see the Black Virgin.
At last, one at a time, we are allowed about 10 seconds with the Black Virgin. The legend is that this Madonna and Child was carved in the earliest days of Christianity. Said to have been moved to Monserrat (home to the Goddess Venus) in the 700s to avoid Moorish explorers, she was found underground and was to be transported to some church but was not able to be moved, so they built a monastery around her.
You can see an orb in the Virgin’s hand. One at a time each Japanese school girl put both hands on the orb and looked solemn while one of the teachers (?) chaperones (?) guides (?) took a photo of her.
We had enough time to walk part way to Saint Michael’s Cross:
AdventureMan wanted to have some good cheese to have on board so we could have wine and cheese before dinner, and he found a really good one! We enjoyed this cheese so much, dry, nutty, salty, kind of grainy, and delicious!
We met up with James, had a great drive back to Barcelona as he answered all our questions, we talked ecology, climate change, cultural differences and economics. We talked about the impact of COVID-19 on our countries and social practices. Before he let us out in downtown Barcelona, he gave us directions to the oldest chocolate shop in Barcelona, not far off Las Ramblas, but far enough that not a lot of tourists get there.
Love these old signs on Las Ramblas.
Last time we were in Barcelona, we had grabbed empanadas at the Boqueria, along with fruit drinks, and AdventureMan wanted a particular spicy beef empanada we had the last time. We darted up and down the aisles until we found the exact shop, and both bought spicy beef enpanadas, and fruit drinks, then found a place to sit at the little plaza behine the Boqueria to eat in peace, except for the pigeons.
We ate lightly so that we could have hot chocolate at the oldest chocolate shop in Barcelona, very close to the Boqueria. The name is La Granja, and it is a couple streets behind La Rambla and the Boqueria.
It was delicious and fun. When we got there, they wanted to make sure we knew they were closing for the mid-day break. We assured them we only wanted chocolate, and creme brulee, and they welcomed us. We loved the place, with customers coming in for cut meats and other kinds of delicacies, we don’t really know what because we don’t speak Spanish except for a few words. It didn’t matter. The chocolate was thick and smooth and like eating a little bit of heaven, if heaven to you is chocolate, thick dark chocolate, as it is to me. The creme brulee’ is to be tapped with the spoon to break the crust before you eat.
On a total sugar high, we head out to find the metro and head back to the hotel for a nap. The metro takes us half a block from our hotel – why don’t all cities have great public transportation like Paris and Barcelona?
We are ready for a nap 😊.
Morocco Malta and the Med: Our First Lucky Day
Everything had gone so smoothly. All our preparations, packing, the taxi driver lined up. And then, just before we are to leave home, a text from Air France, cancelling our flight with them and putting us on a Delta flight. Not a tragedy, but a disappointment; we always try to book Air France because their service is so welcoming, the food is delightful, and we just feel like the vacation starts as soon as we step aboard. So we know we will have to deal with it when we get to the airport.
We are checking in, and explain to the Delta check-in lady that we had the text, which had not yet shown up on her machine. She started poking around, and said “Mind if I make a phone call?” and we said “no, go ahead” and she talked with someone somewhere and looked at us and said “How would you like to fly directly from Atlanta to Barcelona?”
“YES!” we chimed together! We had wanted that direct flight, but Viking Air had said it was not possible. With just a few flicks of her fingers on the keys, it was entirely possible. Wow! We were blown away. We would get in several hours earlier than we had thought; more time in Barcelona!
What we didn’t know at the time was that we would not be sitting together, but it didn’t matter. We had a great flight, got some sleep and landed hours early in Barcelona.
For some reason, the bags took forever to get from the plane to the baggage delivery, like a full hour. We picked up my bag (AdventureMan did his entire trip out of his carry-on and backpack) and headed out to meet up with the Viking transport.
Two people with clipboards looked for our names – and we were not there! Finally a third person said “Oh! I’ve been looking for you; you are on our bus and we are leaving now!” so we went with a very small group to the bus. It was a small bus, filled mostly with elderly passengers with mobility issues, and us. We got to the Nobu hotel very quickly, and checked in.
“We’ve given you a very large room,” the porter said, and it was. We had a large sleeping area, a separate sunny sitting room, a dressing room/office, and a generous bathroom. It felt very spacious.
We settled in, took a brief rest, then headed out to get to know our neighborhood. AdventureMan had spotted a circular something, a mall, on the map near the Plaza d’Espana and wanted to go see what it was. I was actually not enthusiastic, but once we got walking I perked up and was glad for the exercise and the fresh air.
This was the circular “thing” on the map, and it was a mall, it had an elevator to the top, and we later learned that it was once a bullfighting arena, turned into a mall after years of neglect. They really did a great job; this was a fun place to explore.
We never felt unsafe on this trip. In Barcelona, police and emergency people were everywhere. This was a car and motorcycle collision, and they were there within minutes.
This is the arena / mall, and the round thing is the elevator to the top floor. As we were digging for change to pay for the trip we spotted a sign that said something like over 65 is free. There was a couple in front of us (I think also American) who were trying to insist on paying, so she just waived us through and continued trying to explain to them that they could go for free while we went straight to the top.
Inside the mall, things were happening. There were all kinds of stores you would find very familiar – American food chains and coffee shops. The place was packed with young people having something quick and fried at the end of the day. These kids were playing some kind of game where you step on clouds that form and reform in some kind of computer-generated way.
At the top, you could walk entirely around the whole arena, viewing the whole city. In the center of the circle were all kinds of restaurants. First, we had a great view of the Plaza d’Espana.
Just behind the very tall blue building in the center is the Nobu Hotel. To the left, off the busy main street, are quiet, bustling side streets we also got to explore.
Sagrada Familia is continuously under construction. Every time we visit, the date for completion has slipped further into the future.
I love seeing how people live. Imagine having this penthouse apartment with this little lap pool high above the city.
What tourism people will tell you is that Mount Tibidabo is an amusement park, but I can’t wait to get back to Barcelona and to visit this place – the tower on the right is part of the early Barcelona water system, and is supposed to be elegantly beautiful as well as functional. Guides in the area tell us that the church can be visited for free, and the art inside is stunningly beautiful, and the views from the top of the church – yes, you can go up there – encompass all of Barcelona, and too, are stunning. Worth a trip. (So many good reasons to visit Barcelona.)
We walked right by this park going to the arena and returning to our hotel, a park with installations by Miro’!
This is what the walking path on the top of the arena looks like, and on our right is the top of the elevator from base to top. To the left you see a couple of the restaurants – there are many – at the top.
So it’s 4:30 in the afternoon and we are starving and tired. While normally we shun touristic places, tonight we are ready for any port in the storm. We find A BrassaMe (I haven’t a clue what that means) which is open and already serving people, and they welcome us inside. And they have wine, and a view of the setting sun.
We are surprised most of the customers are Spanish and maybe local. Our waiter is very kind. We ask him to help us with choosing a good wine. We know we want to try some of the common tapas – bread with tomato, patatas bravas, I want to try fidua, a noodly disk kind of like paella, and he suggests a couple others, one a “bombe” (a potato filled with highly spiced ground meat) and something which we cannot identify but we think might be a deep fried fish of some kind. Doesn’t matter. It was a lot of fun, we ordered way too much food and it didn’t cost near what we pay in Pensacola for far less.
Bear with me, interiors interest me. I love the way this restaurant has capitalized on the view and the sunset. I love the sort of Miro-esque pipes in the ceiling.
I like the quiet elegant seclusion of this private dining room.
I love this bathroom. In modest, modern Spain, none of this silliness about bathrooms. Adults share the same room, doors are marked sort of ambiguously and people use whichever is free. How very grown up.
Our waiter is from Argentina, came here to find work and loves his life in Barcelona.
This is found everywhere – bread with tomato. He tells us that everything has to go on in a particular order.
This was the delicious spicy bombe.
These are another Spanish favorite, Patatas Bravas, kind of deep fried potatoes with tomato sauce or garlic sauce.
We’re pretty sure this was fish. Have you noticed how much food there is? We thought tapas were SMALL plates. We never saw a small plate of tapas in Spain.
I really liked this – Fidua. It’s kind of like rice-a-roni, little thin noodles cooked in a seafood broth, so tasty and delicious.
l love sunsets and sunrises and am more than a little uneasy about the sulphuric haze we found in most Mediterranean seaports.
Well-fed and well-wined, we rolled our way back to the hotel and managed showers before we fell, exhausted, into bed after a day full of good surprises. We slept straight through to morning.
A Bientôt Paris!
We have a family joke – I have an alarm on my phone; I find it very gentle, it is called “Twinkle” and sounds like little stars coming out. That’s how it sounds to me. I use it all the time, and my husband will yell “Time to hustle the bags out to the car!” He hates Twinkle, it reminds him of all our very early morning scrambles to get to the airport, turn in our rental car, lug our baggage to check-in, and all that jazz.
We have an early flight, so when we hear Twinkle, we are up and ready. Our bags are packed. We might wait for a baggage person, but it is 4:45 a.m and our car is due at 5:00 so we take our own bags down (I am proud; I have lived this entire trip out of one carry-on suitcase and one personal item/bag.)
We did the right thing. We awakened the baggage person and the desk clerk; I don’t think they would have awakened us or come for our bags. Our car showed up exactly on time (a Mercedes this time, thank you Tauck, but not a Tesla) and we got to the airport in record time.
We got to the airport and went to line up at Air France and a beautiful airport Air France person asked to see our tickets, and said “Oh! You are on our partner, Delta! Not here! I invite you to walk just over there and you can arrange for your flight!”
So French! Not to be directed, not to be told, but to be INVITED to go elsewhere. We loved it.
We checked our bags, full of dirty laundry, who cares if they don’t show up on time? And we headed to the Air France lounge, which evidently IS a part of the partnership, even if we have to check in elsewhere.
The Air France lounge is huge. The buffet is lavish. The drinks are set out and available at oh-dark-hundred in the morning. There are even showers, if I needed another shower.
We boarded on time, but our flight was late leaving because while boarding, one of the passengers tripped and fell and had to be taken to the hospital, which also required his bags be removed, and it all took time. They made up most of the time, we got to Atlanta in time to catch our Pensacola flight and our son was at the airport to transport us home.
You know me. I’m a happy kind of person. I had a great time; this trip was perfect. I wept. I didn’t want it to end, and I didn’t want to leave France.
Paris, Le Train Bleu, and Adieu
We have just enough time when we get back to the Napoleon Hotel to wash up and head right back out again to catch the Metro to Le Gare du Lyon where we have a reservation for lunch at Le Train Bleu. This is where those Navigo Easy Pass cards come in so handy – no stopping to buy tickets, we already have trips loaded on our cards.
We have noticed some changes – look at this metro car – can you see how clean it is? This is not the metro I remember. I never saw a busker, not a singer, not a violin player. The French, except for one snooty shoe saleswoman, were infallibly polite and welcoming. People who waited on us in restaurants, even waiting on people with children, were patient and kind. We wondered if there had been a campaign to train people in preparation for the Olympics?
We don’t like to be late, so we often arrive too early. Never mind, there are always things to look at, and this train station, Le Gare du Lyon, is full of interesting sights and people.
One group of well-dressed, attractive young women were handing people something – religious tracts? bracelets? something for “free” but they also wanted to talk, and we could tell that the talk was about making a donation. We had heard of this technique, but this was the only time we saw it happen. We think maybe the heavy police presence in Paris has deterred a certain amount of begging and scamming, maybe even the pick-pocketing.
AdventureMan is hungry; he checks at Le Train Bleu to see if we can get in a little earlier than our reservation, and the answer is a very gracious “Yes!” We love the location of our table, on the side of the restaurant looking out, but with a good view of the entire (huge) restaurant.
I knew what I wanted – Paté to start, and a salad for my main course. AdventureMan also had the paté and then a fish, with a sauce.
It was a lovely celebratory meal, in a glorious location. Well done, AdventureMan!
We wandered back to the hotel, repacked our bags for the following day, napped a little, and then had another small supper at Chez Barbara’s.
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