Rome And Things - PHOTOS ADDED

Thursday.   I awoke as we were running along the coast past the islands off Le Lavandou, and watched  our progress as we sailed towards Monaco.  The berths in Monte Carlo are few, and we’d to drop the pick offshore and go in by tender, which was a new experience for us both.  We hopped on a tourist bus right by where the tender dropped us, so had a look round the lower town the easy way, following the Formula 1 circuit.  The bus took us past the casino and then up the hill to the palace square, where we got off to explore the old town and enjoy the fine views down over the harbours.  On my only other visit, I only got to see a bit of the town round the station area, so it was a revelation to see so much more.  The narrow streets are crawling with tourists and tourist traps, but have a certain charm.  We walked round to the ‘exotic gardens’ which are very well kept and stocked, though we cared little for the hideous cactus collection!  There is a lot of colour from the bedding scheme and from perennials such as bougainvillea, and of course fine views over the smaller harbour and out to sea.

Victoria & Albert (MV and His Serene Higness, Prince of Monaco)

I had an anxious moment when I went to draw cash at the Post Office: the machine returned my card - eventually - but delivered no cash.  Fortunately my Euro account is with the Banque Postale which operates in Monaco, so I was able to draw some cash over the counter.

Before lunch, we watched the rather relaxed changing of the guard at the royal palace.  The white-suited guards were well-drilled and synchronised, but their marching was a shade less crisp than the creases in their uniform!   The return journey to the ship was less good: we were on the lower deck of the bus, and it was stiflingly hot.  The tender ride back to the ship was pleasant and direct, with a bit of breeze to cool us down a bit.

Dinner was pretty good as usual (roast veal for me), and afterwards our quiz team got all the questions right, bet the lot on the wipe-out question and won it on ‘what is the official language of Mozambique?’   (Portuguese, as those of us with a bit of exposure to that language know well.

Friday.   We arrived in La Spezia around 06:00, awaking to a somewhat unprepossessing view of the container port.  Some of the containers are manoeuvred with huge gantries, but a lot are lifted and deposited by mobile cranes, and shunted around the depot by tractor and skeleton trailers.  The skills of the crane operators vary: some load or unload in one fluid movement, while others take several attempts to hook the containers and then drop them in the right place.

After breakfast, a shuttle bus took us to the cruise terminal, just outside which we found a little tourist road train that took us up to the Piazza Garibaldi (every Italian town has one...), near the railway station.  We queued at the ticket machines for a good ten minutes for our tickets to Levanto at the western end of the Cinque Terre, and then had to stand for much of the way.  The train runs most of the way in tunnels, but broke out for long enough to suggest pauses at Monterosso and Vernazza on the way back.  The station in Levanto is quite a long way from the water, so, the sun having come out and the temperature having risen a fair bit, we opted to head back straight away.  We got off in Monterosso and sat for a while watching people play in the water.  The beach (pay to access) is narrow and completely covered with ranks and files of umbrellas, so it’s somewhere to go if you like the proximity of others in large numbers.  A bit like La Spezia station, really.  But the bar offered a space in the shade where we each nursed a drink for a good while!  

Next stop Vernazza, which was just as crowded but still very attractive, with its long pedestrian main drag running down to the harbour.  Utter tourist trap, but only because it is so pretty.  We had lunch there, then a little stroll round the harbour before catching our train back to La Spezia.  

Wiped out in the quiz tonight.  Oh well.

Saturday.  We saw a little of last night’s blood moon last night, but the effect was spoiled (a) by the fact that there was only a fingernail of moon showing, and (b) by a bank of cloud on the horizon at the critical time.  Still, it was decidedly red.

We were a little anxious about today’s Rome trip.  We’d booked only the coach ride without any guided tour element, opting instead for the hop-on, hop-off bus.  When we got down to the bus only ten minutes early (having been told to arrive at the departure time and not before) it was full all bar a few single seats and two in the back row.  Consequently, we had a pretty uncomfortable ride to Rome.  Fortunately, we were able to mute the loudspeaker nearest our seats, and the other good news is that we got to know a couple more fellow passengers, young teachers with a baby daughter.  We did the usual stuff: the wedding cake Palazzo Venezia, the Spanish Steps, the Trevi fountain and St Peter’s square.  The temperature was well over 30º, with high humidity, so it was a tiring experience.  But a very rewarding one, with the added benefit of the chance to see a lot of architecture.  On the way back to the coach pick up point, for example, the driver obligingly did a full circuit of the Coliseum.

We had an inexpensive pizza per man in a side street café near the Palazzo Venezia before picking up the tour bus again to go to St Peter’s square.  Unfortunately, the bus we’d used to go to Rome was unexpectedly unavailable by the evening, so we’d a bit of a wait for the replacement, which arrived without the promised supplies of bottled water.  I’d drunk a good litre of water during the day, but was ready for more.  Well, the restaurant provided plenty when we got back to the ship.

Our diverse little quiz team got together for the wipeout again this evening, and we won again!  Remains to be seen, of course, what sort of prizes we get for the stamps we’ve earned on our cards!

But I’m afraid the lasting impressions will be of heat, crowds, touts and litter.  It’s a comfort to be back on the water again on our way to Corsica - and there’s rather more reddish moon to be seen tonight!

If it’s Wednesday.... PHOTO ADDED

....it must be Barcelona.   

Monday (later).   We’ve had the ‘are you twins?’ question twice today from fellow residents on the floating care home.  These days we just flash left knuckles and smile.

I tried Mr Cunard’s kedgeree at breakfast, and can pronounce it edible, if less good than Ma’s version, which was made with Arbroath smokies.  Lots of vegetables with lunch, and no pudding.  Supper was a bit less healthy: I started with pork cheeks done in a sort of breaded fish cake (delicious) and continued with veal scallopine, which also came breaded and fried.

We repaired to the Commodore Club after supper to hear Lisa Harman play the piano again.  While we were up there, we saw a pod of probably a couple of dozen dolphins, the most I’ve ever seen.  They were swimming towards the bows, so I hope they steered clear of the propellers.  We dropped in on the evening concert in time for the last number, a Piaf song delivered very well by Eve Sherratt.

We sat on the balcony for a while, hoping to see the rock of Gibraltar on our way east, but darkness and tiredness prevailed.  We had walked a fair bit - indeed, my iPhone tells me that the day’s total came to over 11000 steps.  That should have dealt with some of the excess consumption, I hope.  

Tuesday.   A propos phones, although I haven’t used any data or telephony, the iPhone tends to seize a Telenor satellite service.  Even though I haven’t actually used it, BT appears to have charged upwards of £25 just for seizing the network.  So the iPhone will stay switched off while we’re out of range of terrestrial networks.  My ancient Nokia phone picked up a strong Vodafone signal a moment ago, but the iPhone couldn’t see any network.  But using the iPhone yesterday to catch up on Facebook, email, and the blog used up a quarter of my monthly data allowance.  So from now on, I’ll try to use onshore WiFi where possible.

Nice idle day: we neither of us felt much like painting, so sat and had a leisurely breakfast with our dinner neighbours, who happened to arrive soon after us.  A few more dolphin sightings as the day ambled along.  The guitarist we heard doing Bach and Villa-Lobos the other day gave a more mixed - and slightly less appealing - recital in the afternoon.  I suspect some of the pieces were more interesting to play than to listen to!

One of the amusing things one notices on board ship is the curvature of the horizon.  If you duck down so that each end of the balcony rail aligns with the horizon, the curvature of the earth is clearly visible.  Your trivial fact for the day.

Chilli & garlic, Boqueria

Wednesday.   A nice revisit to Barcelona, however brief.  We have logged up a good five miles footslogging up to the Miramar at Montjuic, a good stroll round the old city, including the wonderful Boqueria market, and a quick inspection of works at the Sagrada Familia.  Tapas and drinks at the foot of the Rambla before joining the shuttle bus back to the big tub.  There are four or five cruise ships in port, and the very smart terminal shows how serious Barcelona’s ambition is to become a cruise hub.  As I write, one siesta is audibly in progress, soon to be followed by another.

Off again! PHOTO ADDED

Friday.   One gets to an age where one would rather ignore birthdays, but it’s always a pleasure to be spoiled and to feel loved through the greetings that come in.  This one was momentous, in that we joined the Queen Victoria for a jaunt to the Mediterranean.  The journey to Southampton was tedious in the extreme: fine as far as Hove, but mostly a slow crawl from there on.  Where we could get shifting, the A27 road surface was appalling, so it was uncomfortable as well as plain boring.  Fine weather, at least.

Hanging over Martyn, of course, was anxiety about the fact that his passport has less than six months to run.  He had been reassured by the Cunard call centre that it wouldn’t be a problem, but the check-in clerk had to disappear into the back shop to get clearance.  All of our ports of call require only that the passport is valid on that day.  But some countries require six months’ validity (the logic escapes me) so Cunard make it their usual rule in case passengers have to be helicoptered off to one such.  It was a great relief when the clerk came back bearing a broad smile.

Our cabin this time is midships on the port side, and fractionally bigger than last time.  Although we have more traffic past our door than in the forward cabin we had on the Queen Elizabeth, it is far less noticeable than we had feared, and the cabin is well insulated from the neighbours and the engines.  It’s fitted out with a kettle, mugs and makings, so we don’t need room service tea, or a route March to the caff for our morning cuppa as we did last time.  At the time of writing, the sea is very calm, and we’re scarcely aware of any movement.  When we returned after supper, there was a happy birthday balloon on the bed, and a card from the captain and senior officers (pre-printed, of course, but a nice touch all the same).  I brought my birthday cards with me, and have blu-tacked them to the wall!

As before there was a chilled bottle of fizz waiting for us, so we had a pleasant apéritif as we sailed.  We have a table for two next to a window, and our neighbours are a cheerful couple from Wakefield.  Dinner was very good, and helped along by a blush Pinot Grigio.  We have a couple of days at sea now, so may slap some water colours about.  In between eating ourselves silly, of course!

Saturday.   For our first full day at sea we had a pretty relaxing time, though with quite a bit of entertainment thrown in.  We slapped some water colours around in the morning, then lunch and a siesta.  We came second in the afternoon pub quiz, and first in the evening one, having recruited for the latter our dinner table neighbours and two innocent bystanders.  In between quizzes, we went to the captain’s reception, and had dinner: scallops for me and watermelon with feta for Martyn, then an excellent piece of grilled turbot, all helped along with a bottle of our old favourite  Picpoul de Pinet (for which Cunard’s price was merely eye-watering).  After the second quiz, we went to a pretty good song and dance show. In the theatre at the sharp end.  We finished the evening with a nightcap in the bar above the bridge, entertained by a pianist/singer, Lisa Harman, whose performance we enjoyed very much.

So far, the sea has been very calm, with very little discernible movement.  The biggest treat of the day was several sightings of whales quite close to the ship, a first for us both.

Sunday.   Our second full day at sea was the familiar mix of watercolours, eating and eating.  But we also went to a very good solo guitar concert of J S Bach and Villa-Lobos, and later to the wipe-out quiz where we again punted all our points on the last question, and lost the lot.  We looked in briefly at the stand-up comic act, and rapidly decided against staying.

I had a rather uncomfortable night after a few days of unfamiliar food (and volumes thereof), but was back on form in time for a stroll round Cádiz.  The town has a lot of green space forming a sort of promenade round the old centre, boasting quite a lot of North American subjects.  After a couple of miles I was getting rather footsore and blistered (newish shoes, in which I thought I’d cope without socks.  Fortunately, a little Chinese shop in the centre supplied me with socks, so our souvenirs of the city amount to three pairs of socks, a toothbrush, some shaving soap and a bottle of Head & Shoulders.  Last of the big spenders. 

Priorities

Having just watched a recording of the US President’s arrival at Blenheim Palace, one wonders where the money comes from, at a time when we can’t safely drive in a straight line on our potholed roads.  Would I have felt differently had a similar ceremony been laid on for the previous incumbent of the White House?  I’ll keep my own counsel.  (But then, he would probably have politely declined such extravagance anyway.)

Nice ride down to the seaside at Rye yesterday for lunch with Bob and Sue, to whom I’d promised some eschscholzia (Californian poppy) seeds.  Being the driver, I asked in the pub for a glass of sparkling water with a dash of angostura bitters.  Blank incomprehension.  I later learn that one must first ask whether they have the bitters, if necessary describing the bottle.  Anyway, a pleasant lunch in good company, with the added entertainment of Morris dancers outside and pre-war cars visiting - two MGs and a Riley, all clearly cherished.  When we arrived, we were followed in by a 2CV van, and there were plenty of other ‘classic’ cars around.  Some event nearby, I guess.

It’s always a risky enterprise to go to the coast on a fine Saturday, but the Wimbledon final on the telly may have kept some of the traffic off the road, and in any case we went for the back doubles, so the journey was pretty painless.  It’s very handy to have a partner with decades of local knowledge and an excellent memory for places.

For the second time lately, my credit card transaction was declined at the pub.  We therefore came home and got on to the card issuer: it transpires that there had been a doubtful transaction four days earlier - for the Princely sum of £0.90 - but the cards are now blocked and replacements ordered.  Evidently the card issuer had tried to contact me, but had used an out of date mobile number.  Now corrected.

Feeling valued - for once

My co-hobbyists and our partners were invited to tea this afternoon by the county’s current high sheriff.  She greeted us all personally as we arrived, and thanked us for what we do, and had laid on a lavish afternoon tea that bore favourable comparison with the one we enjoyed a few years ago in a little garden adjoining Birdcage Walk.  It also offered a chance to catch up with colleagues and socialise a bit.  

The drive there and back was something of a trial, but fortunately most of the traffic on the way back was in the opposite direction.  I wish I knew what can be done to fix the awful driving conditions hereabouts.  (Well, filling in the potholes would be a pretty good start.)  The new dual carriageway has made getting to Disgustedville a shade easier from points north-west, so you arrive in the urban crawl a little more quickly.  Of course, the congestion as the road moves from four lanes to two has just been shunted a couple of roundabouts south eastwards.

 We’re heading out in a similar direction tomorrow, and mused briefly whether it might have been an idea to pack an overnight bag and find a B&B.  There was, however, the small matter of the washing out on the line at Forges-l’Evêque, which had fortunately only been mildly sprinkled by the unforecast showers when we got home later in the afternoon.  Said showers continued, but despite much crashing and banging have not delivered much in the way of replenishment of the water butts.  Oh well, it looks as if there might be more rain as the evening wears on.

Phew - what a scorcher!...

...to quote a hackneyed headline.  The British summer is not conforming to its definition: two fine days and a thunderstorm.  We did have a humdinger of a storm one day this week, but it was only enough to put a foot or so of water in the main water butt.  Consequently, we are out with the hosepipe in the evening while we’re still allowed to, since the afternoon temperatures are routinely in the high 20s.  The good news is that the grass is growing more slowly.  It got a cut this week, its first since before our Swiss jaunt.  Of course, the rain wrought havoc on the roses, so we’ve been busy with the sécateur.

A pretty humdrum week hereabouts: a day at the hobby for me, a somewhat bruising blood test (normal: no action), and a trip to the dentist to get a filling replaced.  Feeling in need of a little treat today, I suggested a trip to a nearby lavender nursery, where we admired the display planting, and treated ourselves to a couple of new plants.

The hot weather seems to be bringing out the kamikaze drivers: in the course of half an hour’s drive this morning we had two emergency avoidances, eg a young man careering at us down a single track road at a good 40 and losing control when he saw us and slapped on the anchors.  And of course the usual complement of idiots nattering or texting on hand-held phones as they drove.  I can just about contemplate the point at which I take an account with a local taxi firm instead.

Less than two weeks still our next jolly jaunt, so we’ve been reviewing stocks of shorts and summer shirts.