Well, having been neglectful of the blog, I have at last a chance to do a bit of catching up, courtesy of a UK cold. How is this possible in Malta? All will be revealed.
Yes, we are in Malta, and I have to admit to having been here a month now, but somehow we have been always on the go and the blog seems to fall to the bottom of the to-do pile. However, after we had settled in here, we went to the UK to do some visiting and came back with the worst cold we have ever had. It has been truly dreadful, but we are finally getting to feel that we may live after all, but I have elected to stay in the flat this afternoon and do a bit of quiet stuff. In between coughing and spluttering and sneezing and snivelling. Serves us right for getting off the boat I suppose – we have been so healthy for so long.
Malta is great, and we are enjoying it very much indeed. We were tied up for the first couple of weeks before our visit, and on our return we have had the boat lifted and she is now up in all her glory in the yard. We have rented a self-catering apartment for a very small amount about 5 mins walk from the yard, and go down each day to do a bit more sorting and fixing. People are lovely and the way of life is quite chilled out and laid back, and winter temperatures are still 21 – 24 degrees, so it is still shorts and T shirt. No wonder going back was a bit of a body shock. We had to find shoes and socks, last seen over 6 months ago, and winter coats had to come out of deep storage, once I remembered where they had got to. They are now all packed up again ready to be forgotten once more, as our next outing is to Australia next week, and that is going to be a couple of T shirts and a pair of shorts too.
The history of Malta is extraordinary, and to be able to walk around the places that have become so much a part of the history of Western Europe is very special. There are sites here that go back in pre-history, through the Phoenicians, Romans etc, to the Knights of Malta, Napoleon and the dreadful battering they received in the 2nd World War. Yet it is still bustling around in glorious chaos. And the churches – they are everywhere and are the heart of the country. There are bells ringing all times of the day and night, all with their own unique voices, You cannot have everything at once, so pictures will be in the next editions.
In the apartment.
‘Whoopee’ says Dave
‘What for?’ says Jen
‘A telly!!!! I haven’t had a telly for 6 months!!’
‘I know, it has been bliss’
‘Wow, can’t wait’ says Dave
So head phones go on and Dave plops down on the bed to watch the telly.
‘Jen’
‘Yes, Dave’
‘How do you work the telly?’
Hmmm. Big search on telly, no buttons to press. Big search around apartment, no remote control. Ring up reception and find out you can have a remote control for 10 euro deposit. So Dave finds shoes, takes off head phones and goes out the door, down the lift, out the street, around the corner to the main hotel. Soon returns with his prize. So on headphones, plop on bed, big sigh and on goes telly.
A short time later.
‘Jen’
‘Yes, Dave’
‘There is nothing on the telly’
‘You mean less than usual?’
‘There is BBC World News, euro news , 2 German programs, an Arabic channel and a Malti channel..That’s all’
‘You will have to read your book again.’
‘Hmmmm’
So not to be done out of his telly watching Dave is the master of the news channels which are the worst we have ever seen and repeat themselves every hour, complete with the same 4 advertisements. He has found the occasional chick flick on the Arabic channel, complete with Arabic sub-titles. Everyday he is ever hopeful things might be different and the headphones go on first thing in the morning to make sure the world is still here. I fear serious brain wave disturbance after such relentless exposure!
Headphones? I hear you ask. Yes, remote control headphones so he can watch the telly day and night and I can read my book or go to sleep in blissful ignorance of the dire state of the world and protected from advertisement over dose. An yes, they work in the UK and Australia too.
Thursday 2 December 2010
Friday 29 October 2010
SCIACCA
Well, here is a new development in the life of the blog. As we are continually out of wifi areas, there is a chance that there will be huge gaps in the posts. So daughter Kate has taken on the office of Chief Blog-Poster, putting the bits I send over the radio onto the blog. These will be short and no pictures, but I will add the additional fun stuff when we get to Malta where there is sure to be wifi.
We have reached Sciacca in southern Sicily, after a very lumpy 2-day crossing from Majorca to Cagliari in Sardinia, and an equally lumpy 3-day one from Cagliari to Sciacca. Sciacca is so tumbledown, old and non-tourist it is wonderful, but the weather is turning, so we will have to leave for Malta today. We will definitely come back in the spring. It is now really autumn, very windy at times, huge thunderstorms, and rain.
Breaking news. The moths escaped when we pulled out our foul weather gear for the first time since leaving the Irish Sea almost 7 months ago. And we can still get into them despite feasting on all the lovely meat, cheese and bread. And the lightweight duvets are out instead of just a sheet as it is now 15ºc overnight.
We have reached Sciacca in southern Sicily, after a very lumpy 2-day crossing from Majorca to Cagliari in Sardinia, and an equally lumpy 3-day one from Cagliari to Sciacca. Sciacca is so tumbledown, old and non-tourist it is wonderful, but the weather is turning, so we will have to leave for Malta today. We will definitely come back in the spring. It is now really autumn, very windy at times, huge thunderstorms, and rain.
Breaking news. The moths escaped when we pulled out our foul weather gear for the first time since leaving the Irish Sea almost 7 months ago. And we can still get into them despite feasting on all the lovely meat, cheese and bread. And the lightweight duvets are out instead of just a sheet as it is now 15ºc overnight.
Friday 15 October 2010
IBIZA 2
Having survived all the turmoil and adventure of the storm to end all storms, we decided to have a leisurely day and maybe go to anchor off later in the afternoon. So a stroll to the supermarket for gas and a few essentials from the deli, and back for lunch and a siesta before going across the bay in the water taxi. The side of the bay we are on is all hotels, and the shops and old town are on the other side where the ferries and cruise boats go . It is no hardship to get the water taxi as it comes in right by us. So off we went and had a lovely view of the castle and cathedral. The castle is one of 18 similar dotted around the Mediterranean and dates from mostly the 1500's although it was built on land that haad been occupied by the Phoenicians and Carthaginians, Romans and Moors.
So having got this far we had to walk up to the top, which was some distance up winding cobbled streets. But it was worth every minute. The construction is immense, and how they did it without the cranes is amazing. It is full of spiral escape tunnels from the top to the bottom, and there are placards describing the formation of the bastions and defence works. The cathedral is at the very top, and wonderful. The view from the top is across the bay to where we are berthed to the left of the break water in the foreground, in front of the big white hotel.
So having had our excellent exercise it seemed appropriate to explore the shops on the lower levels, and Dave now sports his very own designer t-shirt to go with Alex's, and of course by now it was going to be far to late to go anchor, so a meal was on the cards. Our second meal out since we left Scotland. Not counting the take away fish and chips at Howth for our wedding anniversary. Dear Dave paid for his indulgence with the need for the Rennies later on.
We will be sad to say good by the Ian and Suzi and the kids, Nathan and Sara who we got to know here. The children were great, young Nathan is 4 and can't stop talking, and loves catching fish. Sara is just walking and wants to take off everywhere. Many thanks to them for the farewell brekkie!
Here are Ian, Suzi, Nathan and Sara with 2 eco warriors in the background.
So having got this far we had to walk up to the top, which was some distance up winding cobbled streets. But it was worth every minute. The construction is immense, and how they did it without the cranes is amazing. It is full of spiral escape tunnels from the top to the bottom, and there are placards describing the formation of the bastions and defence works. The cathedral is at the very top, and wonderful. The view from the top is across the bay to where we are berthed to the left of the break water in the foreground, in front of the big white hotel.
So having had our excellent exercise it seemed appropriate to explore the shops on the lower levels, and Dave now sports his very own designer t-shirt to go with Alex's, and of course by now it was going to be far to late to go anchor, so a meal was on the cards. Our second meal out since we left Scotland. Not counting the take away fish and chips at Howth for our wedding anniversary. Dear Dave paid for his indulgence with the need for the Rennies later on.
We will be sad to say good by the Ian and Suzi and the kids, Nathan and Sara who we got to know here. The children were great, young Nathan is 4 and can't stop talking, and loves catching fish. Sara is just walking and wants to take off everywhere. Many thanks to them for the farewell brekkie!
Here are Ian, Suzi, Nathan and Sara with 2 eco warriors in the background.
WE HAVE LEFT GIBRALTAR!
I know it bagan to seem impossible, but we have left Gibraltar, and because it is a long time since we were able to access wifi, we are now in Ibiza, so there will be lots to catch up on. But as usual, time is a bit short, so I will begin backwards as usual.
We came into Ibiza Harbour as an unscheduled stop, and have been here for 6 days now, held up for one reason or another. We had been having a stressfree existence for too many days I suppose, and I was getting to at last write a blog that had no traumas, but that was not to be. We have had a little sailing and a fair bit of motoring, so we decided the other day to make a halt to the proceedings and anchor up until the wind came back again - we were on our way to Mallorca at the time. So we put into this little bay, put the anchor down and then prepared to get the sails sorted before the next offing. But the pretty sail was not going to behave and come down - the halyard had chafed at the very top of the mast and would not run through the roller. Big swear words and a quick think. The anchorage was not suitable for the coming wind, and going up the mast there was not an option either. It was 5 pm, and just enough time to back track to Ibiza before the light went. So a quick coffee and Kit Kat and off we go. Get in just in time and are given a berth as the light went down. Tomorrow was another day, as it took 2 hours to sort the lines out and settle the boat and bed time called.
Next day we find that we are next to a boat load of what dave calls our "eco warriors" a group of Spaniards we met in Cadiz, who are going about doing some survey work in the Med. Very kindly one of the lads went up the mast for us - it takes me all day to winch Dave up, with risk of instant collapse form over work, but with a spritely lad not a problem. He was able to sort the problem out and pretty sail now has are-furbished halyard and is ready to fly again. The problem was a chafe by another halyard that had crossed it - we will be keeping an eagle eye out for this again I can tell you. So we then think we can be off, until I get the weather forecast and can't believe what is coming. By now we have befriended a family 2 boats down, and much discussion of the weather with them and the French next door, we realise we are in for a real pasting so best we stay. The night of the 12th the wind started to blow up, not too bad, and we had doubled the warps and hauled us tighter at the stern , so went to bed to sit it out. Not to be - by 11pm all hell was raging and everyone was up on deck. This placid little bay was a maelstrom, water coming in torrents from the sky like a Hammer horror film and the waves were whipped up and coming over the back of the boat. To make matters worse our front sail decided to go loose in the middle and cracked about like a mad thing. 2 of our friend lurched on board to help us get it sorted, despite hardly being able to see or stand on the deck. And it continued to blow, and not only blow consistently over 50 mph - it actually regularly gusted over 60 mph - but the wind changed direction right round the clock. No sleep for anyone till after 4 am - my birthday! - when it seemed to settle from one direction and steady at about 30 mph. So we all fell into bed fully dressed. Morning, and it was abating and one could hardly believe the madness of the night. We hope to be getting a video clip from our friend which I will post if it comes. So my birthday was spent sorting us out - we had bits of rope everywhere tying things down, and sorting out the sail, which was thankfully undamaged. In the marina around us some had not done so well and there were a number of shredded sails hanging forlornly from their rigging. We were chatting yesterday and the locals have never seen anything as bad in living memory. The reason was an intense low pressure system which was directly above us - chances of that are no very great at all. so all is now calm and we are getting ready to go anchor before we set off again.
Dave is in his usual hurry to be gone, so this is a shortie, but there will be lots more in a couple of days from Mallorca.
We are the white on with the rusty snot marks down the back end! Eco-warriors are on the right and our English friends next to them. French in the catamaran on our left.
We came into Ibiza Harbour as an unscheduled stop, and have been here for 6 days now, held up for one reason or another. We had been having a stressfree existence for too many days I suppose, and I was getting to at last write a blog that had no traumas, but that was not to be. We have had a little sailing and a fair bit of motoring, so we decided the other day to make a halt to the proceedings and anchor up until the wind came back again - we were on our way to Mallorca at the time. So we put into this little bay, put the anchor down and then prepared to get the sails sorted before the next offing. But the pretty sail was not going to behave and come down - the halyard had chafed at the very top of the mast and would not run through the roller. Big swear words and a quick think. The anchorage was not suitable for the coming wind, and going up the mast there was not an option either. It was 5 pm, and just enough time to back track to Ibiza before the light went. So a quick coffee and Kit Kat and off we go. Get in just in time and are given a berth as the light went down. Tomorrow was another day, as it took 2 hours to sort the lines out and settle the boat and bed time called.
Next day we find that we are next to a boat load of what dave calls our "eco warriors" a group of Spaniards we met in Cadiz, who are going about doing some survey work in the Med. Very kindly one of the lads went up the mast for us - it takes me all day to winch Dave up, with risk of instant collapse form over work, but with a spritely lad not a problem. He was able to sort the problem out and pretty sail now has are-furbished halyard and is ready to fly again. The problem was a chafe by another halyard that had crossed it - we will be keeping an eagle eye out for this again I can tell you. So we then think we can be off, until I get the weather forecast and can't believe what is coming. By now we have befriended a family 2 boats down, and much discussion of the weather with them and the French next door, we realise we are in for a real pasting so best we stay. The night of the 12th the wind started to blow up, not too bad, and we had doubled the warps and hauled us tighter at the stern , so went to bed to sit it out. Not to be - by 11pm all hell was raging and everyone was up on deck. This placid little bay was a maelstrom, water coming in torrents from the sky like a Hammer horror film and the waves were whipped up and coming over the back of the boat. To make matters worse our front sail decided to go loose in the middle and cracked about like a mad thing. 2 of our friend lurched on board to help us get it sorted, despite hardly being able to see or stand on the deck. And it continued to blow, and not only blow consistently over 50 mph - it actually regularly gusted over 60 mph - but the wind changed direction right round the clock. No sleep for anyone till after 4 am - my birthday! - when it seemed to settle from one direction and steady at about 30 mph. So we all fell into bed fully dressed. Morning, and it was abating and one could hardly believe the madness of the night. We hope to be getting a video clip from our friend which I will post if it comes. So my birthday was spent sorting us out - we had bits of rope everywhere tying things down, and sorting out the sail, which was thankfully undamaged. In the marina around us some had not done so well and there were a number of shredded sails hanging forlornly from their rigging. We were chatting yesterday and the locals have never seen anything as bad in living memory. The reason was an intense low pressure system which was directly above us - chances of that are no very great at all. so all is now calm and we are getting ready to go anchor before we set off again.
Dave is in his usual hurry to be gone, so this is a shortie, but there will be lots more in a couple of days from Mallorca.
We are the white on with the rusty snot marks down the back end! Eco-warriors are on the right and our English friends next to them. French in the catamaran on our left.
Monday 13 September 2010
GIBRALTAR 4
Today it is only 24 degrees and life has become a little more bearable. In fact I think some of the old brain cells are beginning to revive and come back into service. Still waiting for the radar, but the magic sunhat for the boat is nearly finished - we are in great danger of almost looking posh.
so today it is a story day, so you can get a feel for how the days just flow by.
‘Dave’
‘yes, Jen’
‘The toilet is not working’
‘What do you mean. It was working this morning’
‘But it isn’t now’
‘Nightmare, Jen’
‘Best look at it, Dave’
‘But that means taking it all to bits and everything and I hate toilets’Biggest of sighs from himself. I know this means spanners and screw drivers, so out with the boxes.
So there we are, having to strip the bathroom down, empty all the cupboards and dismantle the box around the pump and then get into the pump. And it is the smallest room in the house too. You can see where the pump is, where the handle sticks out above the loo. The access is not from the front where the handle is, but at the side, just to be even more awkward.
It is late afternoon, hot and sticky and the odour once the pump is exposed is somewhat on the unpleasant side. So take of the blanking piece of wood, off with the pump cap and all is revealed – it is completely clogged with limescale. And there is now water and stuff everywhere. Definitely a rubber glove job. The pump is really hard to get out, and when it does come out into the bucket my heart sinks, as it is now hours if scrape and de-scale. Being watery it is woman’s work, so I pour in any noxious substance that might remove limescale and set to work. Dave cleans up the worst of the wet in the bathroom. At last some hours later it seems clean and then it is the job of putting it back, which is even harder than getting it out. By now it is 10pm and we have not had a meal and are hot, crabby and smelly. Finally it is back together again and off for a trial run. Horror, it still leaks a bit and all the fiddling in the world is not going to make it right.
‘Could cry, Jen’
‘I know. But it is not too bad and will do for overnight’
‘Hmmmmmm. That’s true. OK another go tomorrow. I’ll get the spare one out’
‘What do you want for tea?’
‘Can’t be bothered’
So we eat a bowl of fruit and cream, have a shower and off to bed to face another day.
AM
Dave is upside down under the bunk rootling through all his treasures and finally emerging with his prize. Uh oh.
‘Jen’
‘Yes Dave’
‘That pump I thought was new,...’
‘Yes,Dave’
‘It isn’t’
‘Why is it under the bunk then’
‘Hmmmmm. Must be OK’
‘It’s not one of your might be useful but not really working treasures is it?’
‘Don’t know. We could give it a go.’
So the whole procedure is repeated, pump out, more water everywhere, and now it's lunch time. Being wiser today we break for food before starting the procedure over again, putting in the ‘new' pump. Same struggle and teddy throwing, then the test run is ready. This time the leak is worse than ever and water is cascading into the shower tray. Dave is beside himself as he cannot work out why it isn’t working, but all the tightening and shifting of nuts and bolts is futile. By now it is late again. So it is off with this one and back with the other one which has had even more cleaning and new valves put in. Hours later – still leaking but usable for the night. By now I have even more fizzing witches cauldron of pump cleaning stuff.
‘Dave’
‘Yes. Jen’
‘First thing tomorrow we are buying a brand new pump’
‘But I don’t know why they won’t work and a new one costs money.’
‘Dave, they are knackered and old and leaking and we are not going to go through this again’
‘Guess not. OK new pump’
‘Jen’
‘Yes Dave’
‘If the pump is scaled up maybe the pipe is too. Perhaps I should get pipe as well.’
‘Good idea’
So another bowl of fruit and cream and off to bed.
AM
Off to the chandler and back with lovely new pump and coils of loo pipe. Should be simple to pull out the old pipe and run the new, but sod’s law says that because it is all hot and humid and the loo is a small space, it is going to take lots of pulling and shoving from both of us. The discharge pipe runs from thee loo up to the pump then into the upper cupboard, across to the other side and down through holes cut for it to under the hand basin, under the floor and through to the discharge sea cock. The new pipe does not want to be confined I think but eventually we win and several hours later we have all new piping, and a branny new pump and this test run is magic – until a bit later there is a telltale trickle of blue loo water. Dave is about to throw himself overboard till he remembers that maybe he hadn’t tightened one of the nuts up. This is not too difficult to do, just messy as it lets more water out. But, wonder of wonders, we now have a non-leaking and functioning loo. And it only took 3 days!
‘Jen’
‘Yes. Dave’
‘Where are you going with those buckets of pumps?’
‘To the bin’
‘But Jen! !!!!! They are might be useful, they are my treasures!!!!!!!!’
‘Dave, they don’t work, won’t work and are no longer treasures. I will buy you a second branny new pump to put under the bunk as a real treasure for you’.
Big sigh, and despite his lovely new working pump I still think he misses his treasures.
so today it is a story day, so you can get a feel for how the days just flow by.
‘Dave’
‘yes, Jen’
‘The toilet is not working’
‘What do you mean. It was working this morning’
‘But it isn’t now’
‘Nightmare, Jen’
‘Best look at it, Dave’
‘But that means taking it all to bits and everything and I hate toilets’Biggest of sighs from himself. I know this means spanners and screw drivers, so out with the boxes.
So there we are, having to strip the bathroom down, empty all the cupboards and dismantle the box around the pump and then get into the pump. And it is the smallest room in the house too. You can see where the pump is, where the handle sticks out above the loo. The access is not from the front where the handle is, but at the side, just to be even more awkward.
It is late afternoon, hot and sticky and the odour once the pump is exposed is somewhat on the unpleasant side. So take of the blanking piece of wood, off with the pump cap and all is revealed – it is completely clogged with limescale. And there is now water and stuff everywhere. Definitely a rubber glove job. The pump is really hard to get out, and when it does come out into the bucket my heart sinks, as it is now hours if scrape and de-scale. Being watery it is woman’s work, so I pour in any noxious substance that might remove limescale and set to work. Dave cleans up the worst of the wet in the bathroom. At last some hours later it seems clean and then it is the job of putting it back, which is even harder than getting it out. By now it is 10pm and we have not had a meal and are hot, crabby and smelly. Finally it is back together again and off for a trial run. Horror, it still leaks a bit and all the fiddling in the world is not going to make it right.
‘Could cry, Jen’
‘I know. But it is not too bad and will do for overnight’
‘Hmmmmmm. That’s true. OK another go tomorrow. I’ll get the spare one out’
‘What do you want for tea?’
‘Can’t be bothered’
So we eat a bowl of fruit and cream, have a shower and off to bed to face another day.
AM
Dave is upside down under the bunk rootling through all his treasures and finally emerging with his prize. Uh oh.
‘Jen’
‘Yes Dave’
‘That pump I thought was new,...’
‘Yes,Dave’
‘It isn’t’
‘Why is it under the bunk then’
‘Hmmmmm. Must be OK’
‘It’s not one of your might be useful but not really working treasures is it?’
‘Don’t know. We could give it a go.’
So the whole procedure is repeated, pump out, more water everywhere, and now it's lunch time. Being wiser today we break for food before starting the procedure over again, putting in the ‘new' pump. Same struggle and teddy throwing, then the test run is ready. This time the leak is worse than ever and water is cascading into the shower tray. Dave is beside himself as he cannot work out why it isn’t working, but all the tightening and shifting of nuts and bolts is futile. By now it is late again. So it is off with this one and back with the other one which has had even more cleaning and new valves put in. Hours later – still leaking but usable for the night. By now I have even more fizzing witches cauldron of pump cleaning stuff.
‘Dave’
‘Yes. Jen’
‘First thing tomorrow we are buying a brand new pump’
‘But I don’t know why they won’t work and a new one costs money.’
‘Dave, they are knackered and old and leaking and we are not going to go through this again’
‘Guess not. OK new pump’
‘Jen’
‘Yes Dave’
‘If the pump is scaled up maybe the pipe is too. Perhaps I should get pipe as well.’
‘Good idea’
So another bowl of fruit and cream and off to bed.
AM
Off to the chandler and back with lovely new pump and coils of loo pipe. Should be simple to pull out the old pipe and run the new, but sod’s law says that because it is all hot and humid and the loo is a small space, it is going to take lots of pulling and shoving from both of us. The discharge pipe runs from thee loo up to the pump then into the upper cupboard, across to the other side and down through holes cut for it to under the hand basin, under the floor and through to the discharge sea cock. The new pipe does not want to be confined I think but eventually we win and several hours later we have all new piping, and a branny new pump and this test run is magic – until a bit later there is a telltale trickle of blue loo water. Dave is about to throw himself overboard till he remembers that maybe he hadn’t tightened one of the nuts up. This is not too difficult to do, just messy as it lets more water out. But, wonder of wonders, we now have a non-leaking and functioning loo. And it only took 3 days!
‘Jen’
‘Yes. Dave’
‘Where are you going with those buckets of pumps?’
‘To the bin’
‘But Jen! !!!!! They are might be useful, they are my treasures!!!!!!!!’
‘Dave, they don’t work, won’t work and are no longer treasures. I will buy you a second branny new pump to put under the bunk as a real treasure for you’.
Big sigh, and despite his lovely new working pump I still think he misses his treasures.
Saturday 11 September 2010
GIBRALTAR 3
2 Days in a row- wow!!
Well have done the washing and lowered the tone of the neighbourhood somewhat, but needs must as they say. Washing means over the sink with the fan going full blast, then into the buckets to go up the deck and onto the line.
Dave reckons it is the most expensive clothesline in Gib as it is usually used for the colourful sail and is special kevlar stuff. But works well indeed.
Maybe I should tell you about our neighbourhood. When we were in Tobermory we were considered a big yacht, especially for 2 old codgers to manage, but here we are a pip squeak. We are surrounded by very large yachts and motor boats.
In the picture you can see little old us, the white one with the washing, between the big blue power boat (recently bought for £11 million), and the big blue yacht in front. Big yacht is over twice as long and has everything you can think of including air conditioning and a microwave - the only 2 things I could envy perhaps in the heat. Behind the yacht you can see the back end of the big American power boat that is taller than our mast - look for the people on the side deck to get a sense of size. The second story has a full gym set and you can see them pedalling away and doing treadmill things. Top story has a pool. Dave reckons it is as big as a frigate. And there are more of the same around the corner and more come in and out every day. So much money seems obscene to me - the cost of the American boat is thought to be in the region of $1 billion, £500 million pounds. And then there is the cost of running them and keeping the crew. Surely there must be a better thing they could do with all this excessive wealth. I might have mentioned it before, but when we arrived the boat behind is was a vast yacht, and this was the smallest of 8 boats the owner had dotted around the Mediterranean, all with crews on board, in case he felt like getting away at any time. So we put a bit of reality into the scene, especially with our eccentric array of covers until we get the sunshade, and our constant work in progress. I think we are the happiest too, we are always having a laugh, but the folk of the big boats always seem so glum.
We are not so fond of our other neighbours either.
Every night, especially over the weekends, we are blasted from the casino with the most evil disco music imaginable played at maximum volume until 7 am. Added to this is the drunken shouting that seems to be the obligatory accompaniment and you can imagine we are somewhat sleep deprived. You can't shut the hatches entirely, even with the fans, and it is a bit miserable. You can see from the pikkie we are just across the way. All the boats complain, but nothing happens. Bring on the mail and we are out to peace and quiet.
End of moans - from now on there are only good things to write about!!
Well have done the washing and lowered the tone of the neighbourhood somewhat, but needs must as they say. Washing means over the sink with the fan going full blast, then into the buckets to go up the deck and onto the line.
Dave reckons it is the most expensive clothesline in Gib as it is usually used for the colourful sail and is special kevlar stuff. But works well indeed.
Maybe I should tell you about our neighbourhood. When we were in Tobermory we were considered a big yacht, especially for 2 old codgers to manage, but here we are a pip squeak. We are surrounded by very large yachts and motor boats.
In the picture you can see little old us, the white one with the washing, between the big blue power boat (recently bought for £11 million), and the big blue yacht in front. Big yacht is over twice as long and has everything you can think of including air conditioning and a microwave - the only 2 things I could envy perhaps in the heat. Behind the yacht you can see the back end of the big American power boat that is taller than our mast - look for the people on the side deck to get a sense of size. The second story has a full gym set and you can see them pedalling away and doing treadmill things. Top story has a pool. Dave reckons it is as big as a frigate. And there are more of the same around the corner and more come in and out every day. So much money seems obscene to me - the cost of the American boat is thought to be in the region of $1 billion, £500 million pounds. And then there is the cost of running them and keeping the crew. Surely there must be a better thing they could do with all this excessive wealth. I might have mentioned it before, but when we arrived the boat behind is was a vast yacht, and this was the smallest of 8 boats the owner had dotted around the Mediterranean, all with crews on board, in case he felt like getting away at any time. So we put a bit of reality into the scene, especially with our eccentric array of covers until we get the sunshade, and our constant work in progress. I think we are the happiest too, we are always having a laugh, but the folk of the big boats always seem so glum.
We are not so fond of our other neighbours either.
Every night, especially over the weekends, we are blasted from the casino with the most evil disco music imaginable played at maximum volume until 7 am. Added to this is the drunken shouting that seems to be the obligatory accompaniment and you can imagine we are somewhat sleep deprived. You can't shut the hatches entirely, even with the fans, and it is a bit miserable. You can see from the pikkie we are just across the way. All the boats complain, but nothing happens. Bring on the mail and we are out to peace and quiet.
End of moans - from now on there are only good things to write about!!
Friday 10 September 2010
GIBRALTAR 2
Well, despite my best intentions it has been ages since I promised to be a little more regular with the writing. I blame the weather, as I am sure my brain goes into melt down here when the temperature goes over 30 and the humidity over 90%. It becomes too hard to move, and far too hard to think. But it is possible to sit in front of all the fans you can muster and chill out. Most of the busy work has to be over by 10am, so housekeeping (yes, I do do some!) and shopping and laundry are all early morning jobs. But it is now September, and, wonder of wonders, the days are definitely getting a bit cooler – it doesn’t get to 28 or 29 till after lunch and the nights are now about 24 -25 which is becoming a little more sane. Still high humidity though, over 80% today. I will finish the moan by letting you all in on the wonderful life of the disco – it throbs on loudly and headbangingly inanely till 7am Thursday to Monday. Oh woe, can’t shut the hatches, turn the fan up till it’s whirring like a helicopter waiting for lift off, and hope zzzzzs will come. Then stand by for the drunken shouting – so the two of us are wandering around like the two golden oldies you all think we are doing hot drinks and loo runs like Wal and Amy in the olden days. So sad in two such youngsters – sigh.
So we are still here. Why? You might well ask.
We are having a problem getting mail. It is a problem all those living on Gibraltar have, the mail is dire. It can take 2 days for a letter or 4 weeks, for no particular reason, and parcels are worse. We received have received mail posted 3 weeks previous, and this arrived after some posted after the first lot had been sent. So we are now down to the wait for 1 more parcel. This we decided we ought to have as, after lots of talking back and forwards, it came about that we are going to be the proud possessors of a radar. We have tried to keep things as simple as possible and have managed so far without one, but since the technology is now available for boats our size, it seems stupid not to have the benefit for the once or twice in a life time when it can be an essential safety tool. So the platform is all ready for it, all we need is the box. Once the box arrives it is still not simple. What you get is a card in the post telling you to go to the parcel office. So you tramp your way over there and queue up, the parcel is retrieved and then inspected by the man from customs who is based there. It was OK with the books, he was not interested in those, but we had had 3 months of prescriptions for the two of us forwarded, a small trolley load really, and these all had to be tipped out onto the counter and each box inspected and accounted for. By the end of the exercise I think everyone watching was wondering how 2 such old crocks could dare to set foot out of the house, far less take off in a boat. Dave went over the other day with another lot of cards and came back saying he had to go to the customs depot as the parcels had been considered taxable. So it was passport and ship’s papers and off he trudged across the runway to the border, about a mile or so. I thought he had been put in a cell or deported as he did not return for ages, but he had managed to retrieve 2 rather battered parcels. Just as well he had gone, as the run around he had had would have had me causing an international incident. But I have my replacement mini-iron and we have Terry the Tiller number 2. Why it is all so chaotic no one seems to know, except that it no longer comes by air for some reason and it is thought it gets held up in Spain – but then everything here is Spain’s fault, right or wrong! Having got the mini iron it is too hot to use it, but I gaze at it fondly and remember that it is supposed to get cooler sometime.
Apart from waiting for mail, we are still waiting for the sunshade. We had made such good arrangements we thought and the steel work was done as promised, but the canvas work is another matter as the original lass has let us down badly and now decided to pull out. I was frothing at the mouth as we could have been out of here. However, a little silver lining appeared when a young man put his head under the sheet and asked if we wanted some canvas work done. It transpires that we are not the only ones being given the run around, and this lad’s father has worked on the boats here for 20 odd years and the son has been setting up a business in Malaga and this includes a young man who is excellent with cloth and so it goes. The bimini story will soon follow.
So we are still here. Why? You might well ask.
We are having a problem getting mail. It is a problem all those living on Gibraltar have, the mail is dire. It can take 2 days for a letter or 4 weeks, for no particular reason, and parcels are worse. We received have received mail posted 3 weeks previous, and this arrived after some posted after the first lot had been sent. So we are now down to the wait for 1 more parcel. This we decided we ought to have as, after lots of talking back and forwards, it came about that we are going to be the proud possessors of a radar. We have tried to keep things as simple as possible and have managed so far without one, but since the technology is now available for boats our size, it seems stupid not to have the benefit for the once or twice in a life time when it can be an essential safety tool. So the platform is all ready for it, all we need is the box. Once the box arrives it is still not simple. What you get is a card in the post telling you to go to the parcel office. So you tramp your way over there and queue up, the parcel is retrieved and then inspected by the man from customs who is based there. It was OK with the books, he was not interested in those, but we had had 3 months of prescriptions for the two of us forwarded, a small trolley load really, and these all had to be tipped out onto the counter and each box inspected and accounted for. By the end of the exercise I think everyone watching was wondering how 2 such old crocks could dare to set foot out of the house, far less take off in a boat. Dave went over the other day with another lot of cards and came back saying he had to go to the customs depot as the parcels had been considered taxable. So it was passport and ship’s papers and off he trudged across the runway to the border, about a mile or so. I thought he had been put in a cell or deported as he did not return for ages, but he had managed to retrieve 2 rather battered parcels. Just as well he had gone, as the run around he had had would have had me causing an international incident. But I have my replacement mini-iron and we have Terry the Tiller number 2. Why it is all so chaotic no one seems to know, except that it no longer comes by air for some reason and it is thought it gets held up in Spain – but then everything here is Spain’s fault, right or wrong! Having got the mini iron it is too hot to use it, but I gaze at it fondly and remember that it is supposed to get cooler sometime.
Apart from waiting for mail, we are still waiting for the sunshade. We had made such good arrangements we thought and the steel work was done as promised, but the canvas work is another matter as the original lass has let us down badly and now decided to pull out. I was frothing at the mouth as we could have been out of here. However, a little silver lining appeared when a young man put his head under the sheet and asked if we wanted some canvas work done. It transpires that we are not the only ones being given the run around, and this lad’s father has worked on the boats here for 20 odd years and the son has been setting up a business in Malaga and this includes a young man who is excellent with cloth and so it goes. The bimini story will soon follow.
Sunday 15 August 2010
GIBRALTAR
I know it has been a while since the last blog, but we have not been idle, tha is for sure. We had planned to come in to Gibraltar to have some steel work done so we can have a bimini (sunshade) so duly turned up on time. Dave first came here in 1964 when he was a young lad in the Navy, and after that on many more occasions. The two of us were last here 16 years ago when we were bringing Spirit home to the UK. So it was with a measure of anticipation, that Dave especially had, that we began the motor up the Bay, dodging all the ships at anchor as well as those on the move and the odd high speed ferry. In to the marina and finally alongside. This was a Saturday and so we went out to find the church for Mass the next day and then the supermarket. All I had been hearing from himself was that we could go to Morrisons. So of we trundled into the afternoon heat. Up the street, around the corner, under the archway, more up the street until we came to a wedding which found us the church. Next was further up the street and Marks and Spencers came into view. And then Mothercare, and then not a lot.
'I am sure it is over this way ' says Dave
'Shall we ask?' says I
'I know where I'm going' says Dave, 'It'll be just down this way'
Trudge, trudge, steps, street, steps
'Are you sure it's this way?'
'It used to be'.
'Oh'
Jen is now very hot. So next man passing gets accosted. Yup, the supermarket has moved and we are going the wrong way. Where is it? Back that way where the flats are - the blocks of flats almost on the horizon. (Bit of exaggeration, but you get the picture.)
Trudge trudge and finally Morrisons comes into view. Straight in to the coffee shop and sink into a chair. I'm sure everyone could hear the barking from our feet. We looked around and it was really weird - Morrisons in Gibraltar is the exact clone of the one we used to go to in Fort William. Even the coffee cups are the same.The only real difference was the small bar and fruit machines in the corner of the coffee shop for chaps waiting for the ladies to do the shopping. So we loaded up with just enough for the day and set off for the boat - except we were not sure of that way either. Made it back and flopped and decided to look at the map we had been given - we had actually gone miles out of our way but now knew the short cut.
Sunday we went to Mass at the cathedral which is really lovely and has electric fans down the aisles - guess where I sat, not quite on top of one, but almost! Then icecream and coffee on the way home. Tomorrow was going to be a big day as Metal Mickey was coming. And so it all began. We had organised for the mail to come here as well and went in hope to the office to collect it - nada (nothing). So now we had the eternal wait for the steel work to arrive and the post. Not to mention the lady for the canvas work. It has been so frustrating - the metal work was done reasonably quickly considering the chap was away for a week, the mail has taken over a month and we are still waiting for some, and the canvas work is not going to happen as there is no way we are waiting till mid September.
You might guess that this is not the best of places to be, and in that you would be right
Gibraltar is a rock with dense population around the base and the Gib we knew has vanished. When we were here before it was a thriving port with all the amenities for fixing boats you could think of, but now most of this has gone and has been replaced with modern high rise flats. The area where the docks were has been filled in and built on and the whole of the area around the marina is one big succession of bars and a casino and a few trendy shops. There is still one chandlery with some bits, but there was only one guy doing steel - hence our captivity - and one lady doing canvas who was not interested in us, hence no canvas. The bars are not the nice ones like in Spain, but the worst of British overseas pubs - loud, grubby and all selling full english greasies. In this heat that is the last thing you want. I give exception to the nice ice cream shop- Kate eat your heart out as the ice cream is to die for. The noise at night is awful and there is no getting away from it. Disco music comes out loud and clear, throbbing away until 6 am. It is too hot to shut the boat up, we just have to put up with it. And the drunken shouting as well. Why is it that the Brits are so awful overseas? even when they are living here. The shops further up town are all UK high street too, and fail to excite the interest, it is such a come down after Spain. It is also very hot, over 30 degrees each day and this week we have had 38.5 and 33+, and that means I can only keep the cabin at about 5 degrees cooler - and it is humid, over 70% every day. So Dave has been up town getting fans - we now have 4 in total and would be lost without them. We have finally got some of the mail we were expecting and have now only 2 parcels outstanding - then we are off!
All time has not been wasted however, and we have been productive in doing jobs about the boat, learning more Spanish and chilling out as best we can. We go out and about in the early mornings when it is a bit cooler to do the shopping - the way to Morrisons is only 10 minutes if you go the right way!
Internet access has been very fraught. There is only one provider here and the service is overloaded and not well run, so we go days at a time when we get no access then days when all is OK. Thank goodness for steam driven technology of the radio link. So I will blog as regularly as I can with daily snippets of what we are up to now that you have the over view. It is not all gloom and doom!
I leave you with a picture of our neighbour, the runway, which is only a couple of hundred yards away. This was taken from the boat. You could believe that you could reach out and touch the planes as they come in. There are about 4 planes in and out a day, so it is not bad at all. In fact give me a runway instead of a casino any day!
'I am sure it is over this way ' says Dave
'Shall we ask?' says I
'I know where I'm going' says Dave, 'It'll be just down this way'
Trudge, trudge, steps, street, steps
'Are you sure it's this way?'
'It used to be'.
'Oh'
Jen is now very hot. So next man passing gets accosted. Yup, the supermarket has moved and we are going the wrong way. Where is it? Back that way where the flats are - the blocks of flats almost on the horizon. (Bit of exaggeration, but you get the picture.)
Trudge trudge and finally Morrisons comes into view. Straight in to the coffee shop and sink into a chair. I'm sure everyone could hear the barking from our feet. We looked around and it was really weird - Morrisons in Gibraltar is the exact clone of the one we used to go to in Fort William. Even the coffee cups are the same.The only real difference was the small bar and fruit machines in the corner of the coffee shop for chaps waiting for the ladies to do the shopping. So we loaded up with just enough for the day and set off for the boat - except we were not sure of that way either. Made it back and flopped and decided to look at the map we had been given - we had actually gone miles out of our way but now knew the short cut.
Sunday we went to Mass at the cathedral which is really lovely and has electric fans down the aisles - guess where I sat, not quite on top of one, but almost! Then icecream and coffee on the way home. Tomorrow was going to be a big day as Metal Mickey was coming. And so it all began. We had organised for the mail to come here as well and went in hope to the office to collect it - nada (nothing). So now we had the eternal wait for the steel work to arrive and the post. Not to mention the lady for the canvas work. It has been so frustrating - the metal work was done reasonably quickly considering the chap was away for a week, the mail has taken over a month and we are still waiting for some, and the canvas work is not going to happen as there is no way we are waiting till mid September.
You might guess that this is not the best of places to be, and in that you would be right
Gibraltar is a rock with dense population around the base and the Gib we knew has vanished. When we were here before it was a thriving port with all the amenities for fixing boats you could think of, but now most of this has gone and has been replaced with modern high rise flats. The area where the docks were has been filled in and built on and the whole of the area around the marina is one big succession of bars and a casino and a few trendy shops. There is still one chandlery with some bits, but there was only one guy doing steel - hence our captivity - and one lady doing canvas who was not interested in us, hence no canvas. The bars are not the nice ones like in Spain, but the worst of British overseas pubs - loud, grubby and all selling full english greasies. In this heat that is the last thing you want. I give exception to the nice ice cream shop- Kate eat your heart out as the ice cream is to die for. The noise at night is awful and there is no getting away from it. Disco music comes out loud and clear, throbbing away until 6 am. It is too hot to shut the boat up, we just have to put up with it. And the drunken shouting as well. Why is it that the Brits are so awful overseas? even when they are living here. The shops further up town are all UK high street too, and fail to excite the interest, it is such a come down after Spain. It is also very hot, over 30 degrees each day and this week we have had 38.5 and 33+, and that means I can only keep the cabin at about 5 degrees cooler - and it is humid, over 70% every day. So Dave has been up town getting fans - we now have 4 in total and would be lost without them. We have finally got some of the mail we were expecting and have now only 2 parcels outstanding - then we are off!
All time has not been wasted however, and we have been productive in doing jobs about the boat, learning more Spanish and chilling out as best we can. We go out and about in the early mornings when it is a bit cooler to do the shopping - the way to Morrisons is only 10 minutes if you go the right way!
Internet access has been very fraught. There is only one provider here and the service is overloaded and not well run, so we go days at a time when we get no access then days when all is OK. Thank goodness for steam driven technology of the radio link. So I will blog as regularly as I can with daily snippets of what we are up to now that you have the over view. It is not all gloom and doom!
I leave you with a picture of our neighbour, the runway, which is only a couple of hundred yards away. This was taken from the boat. You could believe that you could reach out and touch the planes as they come in. There are about 4 planes in and out a day, so it is not bad at all. In fact give me a runway instead of a casino any day!
Sunday 1 August 2010
TARIFA
Sadly we had to leave Cadiz and make our way towards Gibraltar. The idea was to go to Tarifa as a day trip and then mosey into Gib the next day. So off we sailed and eventually got to where we were going to anchor up. And glad we were to get there too, as Terry decided he had had enough of steering the boat and left us to it. We tried and tried to coax him into life, but to no avail. Tarifa is on the point on the map pointing to Morocco, and is the closest you get to Africa. It was weird seeing land on the starboard (Right hand) side and realising it was another continent. And then there were the ships, an endless line of large freighters and tankers going along the shipping lanes. We turned around the point and headed up to the anchorage where we were confronted with what seemed like chaos in action. There were a couple of boats at anchor, but the harbour was full of boats ranging from canoes to dinghies, to fishing boats and speed boats, all careering around. All of them were full of people in bikinis and swimmers, packed in like sardines, laughing and calling out. There were a couple being towed around on bananaas and hamburgers, others on water skis, people swimming, others jumping in or getting out, picked up by whatever boat was passing. It was bedlam. Somehow in the middle of all this, along with the huge ferry going by, we managed to get an anchor down without coming into contact with anyone. The beach was chock a block full of people and sun umbrellas, and there was a floating bouncy castle thing as well. Welcome to Tarifa feria day! We watched the antics for hours - it was only towards sunset thet things quiestened down, and everyone obviously had loads of fun. The ambulance boat and the police boat came along to say hello and welcome - I can see why they needed to be there. Meanwhile the Tarifa -Tangier ferries came and went - they hooted loudly and then assumed boats would get out of their way. Below is the pictue we had of the ferry from our back door, which gives you an idea of the size and closeness. (Pictures are arranged back to front to keep you on your toes!)
A quiet night, brekkie and a leisurely start towards Gibraltar, saying goodbye to Tarifa as we went. We had the wind and tide with us and scooshed along at a great rate of knots, even reached 10 knots. We may return for a day trip to visit the town, which the guide book says is very old and historical. It is also very popular; a ferry goes to Tangier about every 45 minutes, and these are big ferries at that. I had no idea that the crossing would be popular enough to sustain this every day. I will have to learn more about the Moroccan connection in Gibraltar. will keep you posted.
A quiet night, brekkie and a leisurely start towards Gibraltar, saying goodbye to Tarifa as we went. We had the wind and tide with us and scooshed along at a great rate of knots, even reached 10 knots. We may return for a day trip to visit the town, which the guide book says is very old and historical. It is also very popular; a ferry goes to Tangier about every 45 minutes, and these are big ferries at that. I had no idea that the crossing would be popular enough to sustain this every day. I will have to learn more about the Moroccan connection in Gibraltar. will keep you posted.
CADIZ
Sailing across the bay to Cadiz made us very excited, for as we approached we could see it was going to be a very special place. The old town clustered on the headland near the castle and the dome of the cathedral shone gold in the sunlight. The marina is at the entrance to the main harbour, before you get to the town, and we pulled in and made ourselves at home. The marina is towards the top of the first picture - hidden behind the thin brown wall aticking out towards the passing ferry.
The trip onto town was by taxi, and it was worth every euro as we went around the town by ways we couldn't have walked, and fell in love with it all. The streets are all cobbled and narrow, no footpaths, and full of millions of little shops selling all sorts. My biggest regret is not havong had the time to spend days cruising around them - preferably without the foot tapping shadow! But we had made another deadline in Gibraltar for the steel work on the boat. However, we had a couple of good walkabouts and found treasures at every turn.
Our visit to the cathedral left us really thoughtful. The building is on the seafront is so vast - we walked all around looking for the entrance, which we found after we had found a number of huge boarded up doors. The place is far bigger than St Paul's, and is made out of some kind of whitish sand stone which is gradually crumbling away. (It is the building under the gold dome in the photos). Inside you had to pay - the first time for a church for us. It became apparent that it is not really used as a church much. There is a small area in the very centre where there are a few rows of seats and an altar with the Blessed Sacrament which is gilded and colourful and beautiful in its way, but the rest of the vast area is bare stone floors and pillars and all around the edge are about two dozen small chapels with large figures of saints, most of which are rather obscure to us, and all very dark and heavy. The ambience is like looking through a mist at everything as the entire building inside is covered with fine white netting stretching across the high ceilings and down the columns which catches the debris falling off the flaking sandstone. We went down into the crypt (included in the price of the ticket!) to an even more eccentric space of low vaulted ceilings and a network of side chapels, more saints on the walls and dark oil paintings of unknown chaps beside them. Numerous marble plaques to commemorate those buried there, most likely bishops and priests from ages past. I did not have the camera when we were there - sorry.
Our next adventure was back to see another of the churches in the town. I managed to get directions from the girl in reception and she pointed out on the map the 'most beautiful church in Cadiz'. So the taxi took us down even more narrow streets and then came to a stop and the cab driver pointed up a narrower street and there at the end we could see a church. So off we set.
You could see this pretty little church down the end, and on the walls between the restaurants and shops lining the street were tiled pictures concerning Jesus and Our Lady. These are common in Spain, and occur on lots of buildongs, and like here, all had fresh fowers on them. One example.
As we got even closer we could see that the little steeple and the roof was also covered in tiles withe the M for Mary picked out - the church was the church of Our Lady of the Palms
Inside the church was a jewel, and obviously much loved and very much visited - not by sightseers, but by the local people. The main altar with the tabernacle was surmounted by the famous stautue of the Virgin of the Palms - I was not able to find out what the full significance was. Underneath her feet and above the tabernacle were 2 cherubs playing - delightful.
To the side was the Blessed Saceament chapel, and on the floor of the sanctuary were baskets where people had put packets of food as offerings, and on the wall were glass cases with miniature hands and feet and babies and all sorts of everyday things which i presume had been left as a sign that a prayer had been answered or was being asked.
The station sof the Cross were all tiles - tiles and tile patterns are everywhere, and in the corridor leading to the rectory were more tile patterns. I feel a quilt coming upon me!
Back at the marina we were joined alongside by a humungous catamaran with a couple and two little girls on board aged 2 and 4. They were the cutest things out. We were truly dwarfed by the boat though, it loomed above and behind us. They were a lovely couple from Germany, spoke impeccable Engish, and were nice neighbours. The little girls had the run of the deck which was all netted in and the netting between the catamaran hulls at the front was a perfect trampoline for them. And there was room for a big paddle pool as well. The whole thing was like a house on floats. Looking out our back end we could see the docks and the ferries going back and forwards across the bay. The bay is so big the only sensible way for folk to get to Cadiz from the north was by ferry. The cranes were everywhere and the ones below took my fancy as they looked like huge birds, especially at night. Thought Sean might like these.
It was also time to do the washing. No machine on board, not like the next door neighbours, only machine is 2 paws in yellow gloves! You can also see the outside office, not that we had much luck with wifi here.
The trip onto town was by taxi, and it was worth every euro as we went around the town by ways we couldn't have walked, and fell in love with it all. The streets are all cobbled and narrow, no footpaths, and full of millions of little shops selling all sorts. My biggest regret is not havong had the time to spend days cruising around them - preferably without the foot tapping shadow! But we had made another deadline in Gibraltar for the steel work on the boat. However, we had a couple of good walkabouts and found treasures at every turn.
Our visit to the cathedral left us really thoughtful. The building is on the seafront is so vast - we walked all around looking for the entrance, which we found after we had found a number of huge boarded up doors. The place is far bigger than St Paul's, and is made out of some kind of whitish sand stone which is gradually crumbling away. (It is the building under the gold dome in the photos). Inside you had to pay - the first time for a church for us. It became apparent that it is not really used as a church much. There is a small area in the very centre where there are a few rows of seats and an altar with the Blessed Sacrament which is gilded and colourful and beautiful in its way, but the rest of the vast area is bare stone floors and pillars and all around the edge are about two dozen small chapels with large figures of saints, most of which are rather obscure to us, and all very dark and heavy. The ambience is like looking through a mist at everything as the entire building inside is covered with fine white netting stretching across the high ceilings and down the columns which catches the debris falling off the flaking sandstone. We went down into the crypt (included in the price of the ticket!) to an even more eccentric space of low vaulted ceilings and a network of side chapels, more saints on the walls and dark oil paintings of unknown chaps beside them. Numerous marble plaques to commemorate those buried there, most likely bishops and priests from ages past. I did not have the camera when we were there - sorry.
Our next adventure was back to see another of the churches in the town. I managed to get directions from the girl in reception and she pointed out on the map the 'most beautiful church in Cadiz'. So the taxi took us down even more narrow streets and then came to a stop and the cab driver pointed up a narrower street and there at the end we could see a church. So off we set.
You could see this pretty little church down the end, and on the walls between the restaurants and shops lining the street were tiled pictures concerning Jesus and Our Lady. These are common in Spain, and occur on lots of buildongs, and like here, all had fresh fowers on them. One example.
As we got even closer we could see that the little steeple and the roof was also covered in tiles withe the M for Mary picked out - the church was the church of Our Lady of the Palms
Inside the church was a jewel, and obviously much loved and very much visited - not by sightseers, but by the local people. The main altar with the tabernacle was surmounted by the famous stautue of the Virgin of the Palms - I was not able to find out what the full significance was. Underneath her feet and above the tabernacle were 2 cherubs playing - delightful.
To the side was the Blessed Saceament chapel, and on the floor of the sanctuary were baskets where people had put packets of food as offerings, and on the wall were glass cases with miniature hands and feet and babies and all sorts of everyday things which i presume had been left as a sign that a prayer had been answered or was being asked.
The station sof the Cross were all tiles - tiles and tile patterns are everywhere, and in the corridor leading to the rectory were more tile patterns. I feel a quilt coming upon me!
Back at the marina we were joined alongside by a humungous catamaran with a couple and two little girls on board aged 2 and 4. They were the cutest things out. We were truly dwarfed by the boat though, it loomed above and behind us. They were a lovely couple from Germany, spoke impeccable Engish, and were nice neighbours. The little girls had the run of the deck which was all netted in and the netting between the catamaran hulls at the front was a perfect trampoline for them. And there was room for a big paddle pool as well. The whole thing was like a house on floats. Looking out our back end we could see the docks and the ferries going back and forwards across the bay. The bay is so big the only sensible way for folk to get to Cadiz from the north was by ferry. The cranes were everywhere and the ones below took my fancy as they looked like huge birds, especially at night. Thought Sean might like these.
It was also time to do the washing. No machine on board, not like the next door neighbours, only machine is 2 paws in yellow gloves! You can also see the outside office, not that we had much luck with wifi here.
Sunday 25 July 2010
A CAR FOR SEAN
Now I know you are all sick of sailing news, so I thought I would take a little time to just put down some of the finds we have made while we are not bouncing away on the waves. We do think a lot of family and friends as we make our way southwards, and look forward for news from home from all of you marooned back in the workaday world (hint, hint.)
So we were wandering around Nzare musing on life when we discovered a 'just the thing' item for our Jo's Sean. Now we have left the world of car ownership behind, though Dave still notices the occasional super machine in the street, but Sean is particularly fond of a good motor vehicle. Just before our last visit to the two of them Sean had become the proud owner of a mercedes sports car with what I gather are all the bells and whistles. I got lost in the boy's techno speak, but did stare for ages at the folding and unfolding of the roof - could play with that for ages. Jo also has just got herself a new car, no folding roof on this one though, snd then there is the need for a work vehicle. Sadly we found the perfect answer to all the needs in one little vehicle too late - the above purchase had been made. It would have fulfilled all needs - economical, an excellent eye catcher, statement maker, and plenty of room on the side for advertising, and it can carry a bale of horse food. So we thought we would pass on the find for consideration when the next vehicle is needed. As far as we can tell it comes in 2 colours, red and green.
Just think of the savings on tyres - only 3 wheels to look after!
So we were wandering around Nzare musing on life when we discovered a 'just the thing' item for our Jo's Sean. Now we have left the world of car ownership behind, though Dave still notices the occasional super machine in the street, but Sean is particularly fond of a good motor vehicle. Just before our last visit to the two of them Sean had become the proud owner of a mercedes sports car with what I gather are all the bells and whistles. I got lost in the boy's techno speak, but did stare for ages at the folding and unfolding of the roof - could play with that for ages. Jo also has just got herself a new car, no folding roof on this one though, snd then there is the need for a work vehicle. Sadly we found the perfect answer to all the needs in one little vehicle too late - the above purchase had been made. It would have fulfilled all needs - economical, an excellent eye catcher, statement maker, and plenty of room on the side for advertising, and it can carry a bale of horse food. So we thought we would pass on the find for consideration when the next vehicle is needed. As far as we can tell it comes in 2 colours, red and green.
Just think of the savings on tyres - only 3 wheels to look after!
Saturday 24 July 2010
BAYONA TO GIBRALTAR
When I agreed to do this blogging extravaganza i never thought it would be as complicated as it has turned out to be - there is the need to co-ordinate the time out from the 'Jen can you come and hold this' jobs, housework (yes, I do do a bit of that too) internet access and a measure of brain power not completely zapped by the sun. So it has been a bit of a wait, but I hope quality makes up for the delay.
We are in Gibraltar now, the first internet stop since Bayona. To get here we had some great sailing, good winds and blues skies, some motoring when there was no wind but blue shies and some anchoring when there was no sunshine. The Atlantic has been kind to us so far, with a moderate swell that has been OK to cope with and have the brolly up - it copes with a breeze but tends to protest if there is much of a lurch on. Moderate lurch also means happy sailors who can make cups of tea and meals without being spread all over the galley. So here are the stops in order.
SINES
We left Bayona mid-morning by the time we motored out into the harbour and got the sails sorted and our act in gear, and set off for Sines, which was about 30 hours away. Had a lovely sail, the watch system worked well, Terry did the business, and we arrived outside Sines at the same time as a vast tanker. He was bigger than us so I decided to let him in first. Sines turned from a spot on the chart to quite a big harbour, with the place for little boats inside a second set of walls. In the outer harbour there were huge tankers and freighters looking to fill up on various goodies including Liquid Petroleum Gas (LPG). Some were moving about, some were anchored just outside, and in between it all were the never ending fishing boats of all sizes from the mini to the ocean going. None of the above appear to like yachts or even see them, far less acknowledge their existence.
However, once inside the small boat entrance the scene changed to a lovely beach in front of an old town.
There were loads of people on the beach, including school children being bussed down for their PE lessons - what a life! Every day the beach was cleaned by this tractor with a big rake and garbage collection system ready for the next day's arrivals. No shops selling beach balls or other such stuff, only an ice cream kiosk and a small coffee bar with some umbrellas. Wonderful. we ignored the marina, except to do the customs work, and Dave had a great time rowing across to put the sheets in the washing machine, then rowing back for me to hang them on the washing line at the back of the boat. We rowed ourselves onto the beach - they have a marked out channel for little dinghies and jet skies etc. There is a lone of yellow buoys along the beach to keep the swimmers in and the boats out. and the sand was so clean and white, and the water so blue. You can see the beach and Spirit at anchor.
The town was up the hill (groan) and very old, with not all that many shops but enough for most needs, and a lovely old church and castle walls that we could not get in to see. Dave went on a walk the next day by himself and took a picture of his mate Vasco da Gama - just about every street and shop had his name mentioned somehow.
The second night here was some sort of festival and there was the most incredible music floating across the bay - the first was a male voice singing what were obviously folk ballads to a guitar, and then much later a wonderful deep and rich female voice came across to us singing the most soulful and beautiful songs to a guitar and flute background. It was music that was very old - the key and time signatures were at times almost oriental, and in the setting of a moonlit night were haunting.But soon it was time to leave and continue out travels.
CAPE ST VINCENT
We sailed off from Sines a bit reluctantly as it was so nice there, but we had an appointment in Gibraltar to meet the steel man who is going to make our bimini frame so needs must. We were doing remarkably well in a freshening breeze and moderate swell when we noticed Terry was not behaving at all well. A good look showed us that Harriet's leg was a bit lop sided and we were reminded that we had snagged a fishing buoy on the way in to Sines. This had caught around the rudder and Harriet and had caused a little more damage than expected. So off with Terry, up with Harriet's leg and hand steer for us. This meant a bit of a re-think as the shift system was not going to work with hand steering as it is impossible to stay on the wheel for that length of time, so the plan was re-worked for a stay a bit closer than Cadiz, at Portimao. We were nearing St Vincent, scooshing along under twin heaqdsails, wonderful. Had to put the pikkies in to prove it had been done. Dave says this is the european cape, like Good Hope and Cape Horn (he has an imagination), but is still landmark for sailing to the Med.
The wind began to get up as we went by, and the day was nearing its end, so we decided to anchor off in one of the little bays just under St Vincent and made it in just in time as we now had over 35 knots of wind (lots to you landlubbers) but it became more manageable as pulled in neared a little beach full of yet more swimmers. Down anchor, up green sheet and tuck down for the night. Morning broke lovely and clear, and off we set for Cadiz as the wind was in the right direction and we felt we could manage the long day and night especially as we had sorted out Harriet's leg and we should be released from the wheel. Another wonderful day and night and Cadiz bay opened up for us in the morning, all five miles of it! It is huge. We went left and found an anchorage off a beach on the north side at Porto Sherry, a bit lumpy but OK for the day we thought. Till the night and the scend came in and it was just so uncomfortable, rolling around like nobody's business.
'Jen, why are you up at this hour of day?'
'We are moving'
'Why'
'Can't stand up'
'Oh'. Then 'Jen, you can't stand up'
'That's why we are moving Dave'
'Before breakfast?'
'Before breakfast.'
Hmmmmmm
So up anchor and around the corner where there is a little marina. Now I had rung them the night before and found out in my fractured Spanish that there was no room for us. But Dave, not to be thwarted, insisted on a look see as he believes all Spaniards say no just for the heck of it. Nice little motor up the river, but it turned out to be true - there was no room for us. About turn and across to Cadiz proper and the marina. And that is the next story.
We are in Gibraltar now, the first internet stop since Bayona. To get here we had some great sailing, good winds and blues skies, some motoring when there was no wind but blue shies and some anchoring when there was no sunshine. The Atlantic has been kind to us so far, with a moderate swell that has been OK to cope with and have the brolly up - it copes with a breeze but tends to protest if there is much of a lurch on. Moderate lurch also means happy sailors who can make cups of tea and meals without being spread all over the galley. So here are the stops in order.
SINES
We left Bayona mid-morning by the time we motored out into the harbour and got the sails sorted and our act in gear, and set off for Sines, which was about 30 hours away. Had a lovely sail, the watch system worked well, Terry did the business, and we arrived outside Sines at the same time as a vast tanker. He was bigger than us so I decided to let him in first. Sines turned from a spot on the chart to quite a big harbour, with the place for little boats inside a second set of walls. In the outer harbour there were huge tankers and freighters looking to fill up on various goodies including Liquid Petroleum Gas (LPG). Some were moving about, some were anchored just outside, and in between it all were the never ending fishing boats of all sizes from the mini to the ocean going. None of the above appear to like yachts or even see them, far less acknowledge their existence.
However, once inside the small boat entrance the scene changed to a lovely beach in front of an old town.
There were loads of people on the beach, including school children being bussed down for their PE lessons - what a life! Every day the beach was cleaned by this tractor with a big rake and garbage collection system ready for the next day's arrivals. No shops selling beach balls or other such stuff, only an ice cream kiosk and a small coffee bar with some umbrellas. Wonderful. we ignored the marina, except to do the customs work, and Dave had a great time rowing across to put the sheets in the washing machine, then rowing back for me to hang them on the washing line at the back of the boat. We rowed ourselves onto the beach - they have a marked out channel for little dinghies and jet skies etc. There is a lone of yellow buoys along the beach to keep the swimmers in and the boats out. and the sand was so clean and white, and the water so blue. You can see the beach and Spirit at anchor.
The town was up the hill (groan) and very old, with not all that many shops but enough for most needs, and a lovely old church and castle walls that we could not get in to see. Dave went on a walk the next day by himself and took a picture of his mate Vasco da Gama - just about every street and shop had his name mentioned somehow.
The second night here was some sort of festival and there was the most incredible music floating across the bay - the first was a male voice singing what were obviously folk ballads to a guitar, and then much later a wonderful deep and rich female voice came across to us singing the most soulful and beautiful songs to a guitar and flute background. It was music that was very old - the key and time signatures were at times almost oriental, and in the setting of a moonlit night were haunting.But soon it was time to leave and continue out travels.
CAPE ST VINCENT
We sailed off from Sines a bit reluctantly as it was so nice there, but we had an appointment in Gibraltar to meet the steel man who is going to make our bimini frame so needs must. We were doing remarkably well in a freshening breeze and moderate swell when we noticed Terry was not behaving at all well. A good look showed us that Harriet's leg was a bit lop sided and we were reminded that we had snagged a fishing buoy on the way in to Sines. This had caught around the rudder and Harriet and had caused a little more damage than expected. So off with Terry, up with Harriet's leg and hand steer for us. This meant a bit of a re-think as the shift system was not going to work with hand steering as it is impossible to stay on the wheel for that length of time, so the plan was re-worked for a stay a bit closer than Cadiz, at Portimao. We were nearing St Vincent, scooshing along under twin heaqdsails, wonderful. Had to put the pikkies in to prove it had been done. Dave says this is the european cape, like Good Hope and Cape Horn (he has an imagination), but is still landmark for sailing to the Med.
The wind began to get up as we went by, and the day was nearing its end, so we decided to anchor off in one of the little bays just under St Vincent and made it in just in time as we now had over 35 knots of wind (lots to you landlubbers) but it became more manageable as pulled in neared a little beach full of yet more swimmers. Down anchor, up green sheet and tuck down for the night. Morning broke lovely and clear, and off we set for Cadiz as the wind was in the right direction and we felt we could manage the long day and night especially as we had sorted out Harriet's leg and we should be released from the wheel. Another wonderful day and night and Cadiz bay opened up for us in the morning, all five miles of it! It is huge. We went left and found an anchorage off a beach on the north side at Porto Sherry, a bit lumpy but OK for the day we thought. Till the night and the scend came in and it was just so uncomfortable, rolling around like nobody's business.
'Jen, why are you up at this hour of day?'
'We are moving'
'Why'
'Can't stand up'
'Oh'. Then 'Jen, you can't stand up'
'That's why we are moving Dave'
'Before breakfast?'
'Before breakfast.'
Hmmmmmm
So up anchor and around the corner where there is a little marina. Now I had rung them the night before and found out in my fractured Spanish that there was no room for us. But Dave, not to be thwarted, insisted on a look see as he believes all Spaniards say no just for the heck of it. Nice little motor up the river, but it turned out to be true - there was no room for us. About turn and across to Cadiz proper and the marina. And that is the next story.
Sunday 4 July 2010
A STORY
Since the last marathon effort at the laundrette in Portosin, I decided not to use laundrettes ever again. Seeing Dave won't go naked and is a bit unhappy at the thought of having to look at my exposed wobbly bits, it is wash as you go for clothes and whenever we can we get a laundry to do the sheets and towels. It was a bit of a surprise to find the laundry was sheaper than the do it yourself was, and they come back all nicely folded with no waiting around to stuff ever more coins in the dryers. So todays offerings are on the washing line between the backstays, all flapping nicely in the sunny breeze, the cabin is tidy and swept, so I thought it was time for a little story.
Picture the scene The little yacht is bobbing along in the atlantic swell, the crew watching out for ships in the fog. Dave has just yelled down that it us time for Jen to get up out of the bunk and come on watch. Big groan from Jen, can't really be time, surely. But it is. So up on the knees, leg over the leecloth trying not to take the sheet too, watch the lurch before standing up, shuffle off to the loo. Brain still not quite there, but realises that something is not quite as it should be. That's it, water coming out from under the loo door. Boat leans left, no water. Boat leans right and there is a lovely waterfall over the sill onto the floor and doown into the bilge. This fascinating sight is watched for a few more times until it registers that this really ought not to be happening. Question is, to open the door or not. Decides not, as the only thought to come to mind is that there must be more in there and surely it can only be something amiss with the loo itself. Best plan is to share the discovery.
'Dave'
'Yes, Jen'
'Can you come down here?'
'If you come up here'
'OK'
'Why Jen'
'You'll see'
Swap places, Dave comes down, Jen goes to look for ships. Surprisingly quiet from below, as usually things like this bring out loud cries of 'nightmare' or 's****' or worse. Jen waits a bit and then after a good look to see there are no ships in the couple of hundred yards she can see, dives down for a quick look. There is Dave getting towels out of the loo cupboard and throwing them in the next room.
'What is it?'asks jen
'Some idiot left the sink tap on'
'We haven't used the sink. It is full of the shampoo bottles and stuff to stop them flying around'
'I used the sink when you were asleep'.
'Oh' says Jen
That explains the absence of sounds. No buck can be passed.
Jen back up to see if anything has appeared, thankfully no. So being trapped she has to let Dave carry on. At least it is clean water and not from the loo which would have been a bit on the unmentionable side. So the water level was decreased by sucking it out through the shower drain tray which meant the shower grate could stop floating about, and then lots of wipes with the sponge.
Turns out there was a need for the loo that could not wait for the shift change, and in his haste to be as quick as possible to keep the lookout in the fog, washed the paws but forgot to turn the tap off properly, so it kept up a nice drip. Ususally we would have heard the pump but the motor was on, so it quietly overflowed.
There is an up side to everything. The loo floor got the good wash it needed and I was looking forward to (not) when I got to the next stop, and I was able to diagnose the casuse of another problem. For quite a while i had been trying to chase the casue of a particular odour that remained in the heads no matter what I cleaned it with. I had emptied cupboards, wiped out every nook and cranny, put smelly stuff done the loo - all sorts, and still it lingered. But after this epesode it was not more. It dawned on me that there must have been stale water still in the piping from the shower tray and since we haven't used this as a shower for ages it has been gently festering. So problem solved.
And another problem also was found and dealt with. Some of the towels stored under the sink were found to be wet, and as they tend to stay there undisturbed as we recycle the in use ones, they too would have begun to ferment and fester. This was easily fixed as all it took was a tightening up of the clip on the end of the shower hose pipe. Towels dried and sweetly smelling in no time, and order restored.
And so the little boat and its merry crew poddled along the ocean waves to Nazare.
Picture the scene The little yacht is bobbing along in the atlantic swell, the crew watching out for ships in the fog. Dave has just yelled down that it us time for Jen to get up out of the bunk and come on watch. Big groan from Jen, can't really be time, surely. But it is. So up on the knees, leg over the leecloth trying not to take the sheet too, watch the lurch before standing up, shuffle off to the loo. Brain still not quite there, but realises that something is not quite as it should be. That's it, water coming out from under the loo door. Boat leans left, no water. Boat leans right and there is a lovely waterfall over the sill onto the floor and doown into the bilge. This fascinating sight is watched for a few more times until it registers that this really ought not to be happening. Question is, to open the door or not. Decides not, as the only thought to come to mind is that there must be more in there and surely it can only be something amiss with the loo itself. Best plan is to share the discovery.
'Dave'
'Yes, Jen'
'Can you come down here?'
'If you come up here'
'OK'
'Why Jen'
'You'll see'
Swap places, Dave comes down, Jen goes to look for ships. Surprisingly quiet from below, as usually things like this bring out loud cries of 'nightmare' or 's****' or worse. Jen waits a bit and then after a good look to see there are no ships in the couple of hundred yards she can see, dives down for a quick look. There is Dave getting towels out of the loo cupboard and throwing them in the next room.
'What is it?'asks jen
'Some idiot left the sink tap on'
'We haven't used the sink. It is full of the shampoo bottles and stuff to stop them flying around'
'I used the sink when you were asleep'.
'Oh' says Jen
That explains the absence of sounds. No buck can be passed.
Jen back up to see if anything has appeared, thankfully no. So being trapped she has to let Dave carry on. At least it is clean water and not from the loo which would have been a bit on the unmentionable side. So the water level was decreased by sucking it out through the shower drain tray which meant the shower grate could stop floating about, and then lots of wipes with the sponge.
Turns out there was a need for the loo that could not wait for the shift change, and in his haste to be as quick as possible to keep the lookout in the fog, washed the paws but forgot to turn the tap off properly, so it kept up a nice drip. Ususally we would have heard the pump but the motor was on, so it quietly overflowed.
There is an up side to everything. The loo floor got the good wash it needed and I was looking forward to (not) when I got to the next stop, and I was able to diagnose the casuse of another problem. For quite a while i had been trying to chase the casue of a particular odour that remained in the heads no matter what I cleaned it with. I had emptied cupboards, wiped out every nook and cranny, put smelly stuff done the loo - all sorts, and still it lingered. But after this epesode it was not more. It dawned on me that there must have been stale water still in the piping from the shower tray and since we haven't used this as a shower for ages it has been gently festering. So problem solved.
And another problem also was found and dealt with. Some of the towels stored under the sink were found to be wet, and as they tend to stay there undisturbed as we recycle the in use ones, they too would have begun to ferment and fester. This was easily fixed as all it took was a tightening up of the clip on the end of the shower hose pipe. Towels dried and sweetly smelling in no time, and order restored.
And so the little boat and its merry crew poddled along the ocean waves to Nazare.
Saturday 3 July 2010
OFF TO NAZARE
Couldn't wait to fuel up and leave Bayona - another night of booming music would be the last thing we could cope with. So out we went and set off. We turned around about a mile out as the swell was going to be too awkward to set the poles and sort ourselves out, so we came in and anchored off the end of the third marina. Having had the obligatory cuppa, we started to mooch about and do the deck work, nd then I heard a little voice in my ear.
'Hey, Jen'
'Yes, Dave,'
'Time is getting on a bit'
'Hmmmmm, Dave?'
'We could stay here and go first thing in the morning when everything is tickety-boo and shipshape'
'What about the noise from the fun fair?'
'Might not be on tonight (flying pigs seen!)'
'Hmmm. OK, Dave' Not much persuasion needed here!
Maybe this is why we are a slow moving object!
And the noise was there but we were tucked away out of the direct line of maximum sound, so it was just bearable
It was a sensible decision though, as we were in for a 30 hour passage and the watch system does best if it is begun around the lunch time. So we chilled out and sorted ourselves and set off the next morning, all bright and shiny. At least it was all bright and shiny till the fog rolled in. We were aiming to be about 15-20 miles off the coast, and hopefully it would thin out, but in the meantime it would be more hazardous to go back. Eventually the wind died as well, so we were reduced to putting the engine on again. The fog continued through to the next day as well, and we had a couple of little flurries with close approaching fishing boats, and the AIS gadget told us ships were in the area but not near us; we did not see any of them. We approached Nazare in the early afternoon with just enough visibility to safely make the harbout entrance. As you can see it is a wee place, mainly for fishing boats and a few local boats and the occasional visitor. We had spoken to the chap in charge of the little nmarina before we set out, so we were expected and met on the pontoon. It was still foggy!
Evidently this fog is well known here, you just have to sit it out. It is one thing to be caught in it, but no way would we choose to be in it. The little harbour is great, and such a relief after Bayona. There is a little mini-supermercado on site which has a multitude of goods in the smallest of places, and wonderful home baked fresh bread twice a day. Next to it is the local bar, also in miniature, with one table and some chairs outside, but a huge TV inside for the local fishermen to watch the world cup football. The marina office is next door and has the showers and loos, and Captain Hadley and his wife Sally who run the place. I first spoke to Sally when she was in hospital as she had the work phone with her. She had had her hip replaced and was doing fine. We caught up with her the day after we arrived as she came out of hospital straight to the office! So we talked medical things, with her being a nurse and all, and when the chaps were getting bored got down to the business in hand, such as renting a car for our trip to Fatima and such like. Sally was ex-RN, her husband ex merchant navy, so you can imagine the banter going on. These two were on their way to Cyprus when they put in here for a night - that was 11 years ago and are firmly embedded into the life here.
We were in Nazare 4 years ago by car, when we were touring around during the trip Dave surprised me with for my birthday. Loved it so much it had to be a port of call. It too has become busy. It is more or less divided into two parts, the beach part and the upper part. The beach part is like any British beach gone wild and in the season is crowded. There are loads of little tent things in rows that you can hire, and so many beach balls for sale I cannot think they will run out before the next milenium.
The upper part is on the top of the cliff and is reached by cable car. There you find the large church and chapel, more houses and some governemt offices, and another row of shops all selling the same kind of unbelievable junk. It is disappointing that the local craft of lacemaking and crochet have been supplanted by this mass produced rubbish that is available anywhere.
We caught the local bus for the mile in to town, as I had banged my knee the day before and walking was not the best, and discovered the large market, ice cream shop and the cable car to the top. We found a copy of the Daily Telegraph (beggars can't be choosers!) to read with coffee and croissants, and then found we had just missed the bus back. So it was a slow toddle to the marina and a big feet up rest. Lovely day. Tomorrow we were to take possession of our hire car for more adventures.
These are the photos of the church and chapel up the top of the town on the hill. (And an example of the wares on offer)
MORE BAYONA
I have no idea what happened but the Bayona blog published itself before it was edited - so full of mistakes. So read it first then come back to this. One day I will understand all this.
Our new neighbours were able to help us change sails - we have the largest foresail in the world I think, and we needed to put the down wind sails on. So extra muscle and a tramp over their boat and life was made easier. A nice fold up on the jetty and back in its place. New ones up and the chap offered to do the winching - I think he regretted the offer about half way through the evolution, it is not easy winching up the 2 sails together. Must say I did not warn him, happy enough to accept any muscle power going. We were able to lend them a ladder to get off their boat, and the tools for them to try and concoct one for themselves. We did a book swap as well, but I think I am about to have an overdose of chick lit. Dave did remark on how pink most of the covers were. Have tried one so far and given it up due to severe indigestion. They will go to a good home at our next port of call.
We were then rudely awakened at 11 pm with the noise of a funfair and disco belting out over the water from Panjon. It was truly awful, awesomely loud and to add insult to injury there was the booming voice of a DJ and fireworks that went on for ages. I could not believe anything could be so loud, it even woke Dave. And on and on it went. I closed the hatches, which is miserable in the heat, but that really didn't help at all. So it was no sleep till 4 am. The just as we nodded off again, the drunken Irish in a boat over the way decided to have a sing song accompanied by accordian. I cried. That went on till 5am. Not the best night in the world, and a pretty crabby pair we were.
The town is a disappointment to me after the ones we have been to, and not the Bayona we remember from 15 years ago when we first came here. Mind you circumstances were different then too, as we were towed in in the middle of the night by a fishing boat. Our engine had failed off Lisbon, and we had flip flopped in no wind for over a week to get this far. Thinking we would be missed at work we decided to put in to Bayona instead of keeping on, at that time we had a breeze to do so. This however died as suddenly as it had appeared and we again left flip flopping, but not in such a good spot. However, rescued we were and royally looked after. Since then not only has this marina grown, but 2 others have sprung up beside it, equally huge. The town has grown too, and it is now obviously a tourist resort, with tourist resort prices as well.
Nights 2 and 3 also had us awake with the fair and fireworks, but thankfully the Irish had departed. It was all too much and we packed up the boat, did the last supermarket shop and set off for our next adventure.
The picture shows the very large statue on a rock, Our Lady of Bayona, which you pass on the way in and out of Bayona bay.
THE GREEN DOOR
A couple of times I had noticed a little green door set into the wall of a building set back of the narrow road we walked down behind the main drag. I had also seen the occasional person going in and out. So one day I was cutoius and went over to look at the little notice on the wall. There are so many little notices like this around you tend to ignore them. Once over there it was became clear this was a church, so slowly opened the door and peeped in. What a find. It was a small chapel, with the most amazing main altar and side altar, and the times I visited the Blessed Sacrament there I always found people of all kinds coming in, not to look, but to pray. It was a quiet place in the bustle of the people hustling you to buy things or have a meal.
The photographs do not tell all.
Mind you if I had approached it from the other direction I might have had a clue from the cross on the steeple!
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