We didn’t disembark in Gibraltar: we hadn’t signed up to go there in the first place, and were a bit fed up when it was substituted for Cartagena, which we were looking forward to. True, the view from the rock is fantastic, but having seen it in summer, there was little point in visiting in December, particularly since the summit was in cloud for much of the afternoon. So we spent a bit of the late morning up in the Commodore Club, watching the few aircraft movements at the airport. The road to the border crossing at La Linea crosses the runway, so has to be closed to allow arrivals and departures. It was fun to see the flood of traffic - cars, trucks, motorbikes, buses, cyclists and pedestrians - each time the gates were opened.
On leaving Gibraltar we had fine views of the African coast for a long time after we sailed. At one point I counted fifteen other vessels in view as we headed out: this is one extremely busy sea lane. The sea got a bit lively at times in the night, but was calm as we came into the Tagus this morning, and it was mild enough for us to stand on the balcony as we passed under the roaring bridge. As we came through, a train was also coming over, so we were reminded of how grateful we are not to live near it.
Buying a day tourist ticket is no longer the simple matter it once was. We went to Sta Apolónia station as before, and bought a 1-day tourist pass apiece, only to find that it was valid only on trains. By the time we discovered this we were under way towards the Cais do Sodre in a bus, which fortunately lacked an inspector. The CdS metro station sold us the more versatile ticket we were used to, so we took the N°15 tram along to Algés and hopped on a train to Cascais, enjoying views of a lively sea breaking on the rocks and beaches. It was chilly and windy, so we didn’t hang around, and instead returned to Belém for lunch in the Pastéis de Belém shop. After some dialogue with the waiter, it turned out that we had to read the menu by getting our phones to read a QR code on the dispenser of silly little napkins. The sandwiches and pastéis were fine, but we didn’t linger. The next table was occupied by a couple with small children, one of whom, though shrieking and running around for much of the time, could still be pacified - briefly - by a session at the breast. When a school party arrived to fill three or four other tables nearby, we decided it was time to pay up and push off.
I won’t detail the rest of the day’s adventures: suffice to say that we failed to realise a plan to catch the bus across the river, and eventually came back to the ship by metro from Pombal to Sta Apolónia, a new line that I hadn’t realised existed. All of this shows that I hadn‘t researched the public transport network sufficiently. I used to be good at this kind of thing, dammit! We were joint runners up in the afternoon quiz, and had dinner in very pleasant company.
It only took a few bars of the evening show to establish that it would be grotesquely over-amplified (as was the solo flautist’s show a couple of nights ago), so this time we we didn’t even warm our seats. Such a shame: the accompaniment of last night’s amazing acrobatics show was much more restrained.
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