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.
Friday, 29 October 2010
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!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)