Aurora cruise out to the Caribbean, hopefully leaving the wind and rain behind
Heading to the Caribbean after travelling through some rough seas, initially on our way back from the Mediterranean, through the Bay of Biscay. Hopefully we will be sailing into calmer waters. Although you never can tell. So far so good and the sun seems to be poking it’s head out, warming up the old bones. Always beneficial.
Caribbean cruise
Monday - overcast-rushing about as we started bridge classes once again - Then talking to our eager compatriot’s before settling down to another learning session. But even at this stage it seems that a number participants know better and can talk louder than the instructor. But fortunately our table is filled with friendly people. And we enjoy our first session.
Then a swift rush to another speaker. Today, the diference between men and women. Very profound, interesting, eye opening and hilarious - l now understand why l cant do more than one thing at a time and can never find anything in the fridge.
We were made to be hunter gatherers - so we had to concentrate on one thing - staying alive - away from the fangs of the raptor saurus.
Before we know, it’s lunchtime- yes more food. A never ending supply of attactive goodies -
plus masses of downtime for reading, getting through loads of books. A great mIx of authors + styles from Ian Rankin and the inspector Rebus series. Anne Cleves, Vera and an interesting historical thriller set in debtors prison back in 1720. Plus plenty of new authors who l have never come across before. That’s the beauty of the book swap in the on ship library.
26/10
Tuesday . 23°- 25° overcast
We arrive in Madeira. More importantly it’s Judith’s , birthday. A big one, she’s trying to catch me up.
We head out to go up the Mountain, as per usual wearing all the wrong cloths. With us going high decided to wrap up, layering, as you do at home at this time of year in Scotland. So put on Jeans and a jumper.
I cooked as we walked along the promenade amidst the other strollers in their T shirts and shorts. Yet by the time we had caught the local bus and climbed out at Monte, up in the clouds, l was happy, snug as a bug in a rug.
Walked around the square, filled with colourful old hilltop buildings similar to those found in the Himalayas, surrounded by lush greenery, ancient trees. Absolutely gorgeous. Especially the lack of tourists. All the tourist buses had not reached this point as yet, we had the place virtually to ourselves. Relative peace and tranquillity away from the maddening crowds.
Climbed the wide steps cut out of lava up to the white church perched on top of the hill. The Church of our lady of the Mount. With magnificent views over Funchai, the vista spread out before us. Could even just make out our ship in the harbour.
What was a rather bland church on the outside hosted a remarkable and surprising feature.
In pride of place sat the coffin of the Austrian Emperor and king of Hungary, Charles I, who according to a plaque was exiled to Madeira in 1920.
From all accounts he caught a cold in town, which developed into bronchitis and progressed to pneumonia. Having suffered two heart attacks he died of respiratory failure on 1 April in presence of his wife who was pregnant with their eighth child and died in 1922. His remains except for his heart are in a small chapel inside the church. He was only 34. Good old Wikipedia. Always has the background details. Great that my pay as you go three sim enables me to stay online whilst abroad. Can’t understand why the stopped it for the contracts.
Next decision was how to get down. The most popular route for thrill seekers by far being the traditional sledge. But too hairy for me as was the cable car. Such a wimp at times. Reckless at others, or so Judith reminds me. So we settled to walk down the steep winding lanes.
Quite steep in parts, yet very interesting. Near the bottom, popped into a local bar for a beer and a glass of wine. Very basic, spotlessly clean, especially the toilets. Urgently needed after drinking so much water. Amazing value. €4, for both.
Getting hotter, combination of walking, but also winter cloths for the low level heat. We descended from the peace and tranquility into the mass of thronging townsfolk going about their business.
Made a few purchases before heading into a cafe for coffee and a famous Portuguese tart. A twist on a custard tart, delicious, yet not good on the waist. In fact it was just an excuse to sign onto internet. Needed to cancel a Christmas booking, due to my op being brought forward. On the face of it not a problem. Only paid £25 per person deposit, so we would loose £50. Or so we thought. In fact small print caught us out. The deposit was a so called reduced deposit. If you cancel you have to pay the full deposit. £250. Rather devious practice. Will sort once home.
Back on board for a birthday dinner outside under the setting sun, in the The Beach House, a speciality restaurant. Great time shared with Steve and Jean.
The winds then hit us a broadside overnight. The ship rocked and rolled none stop.
Not a good night for Judith who didn’t get a minute’s sleep.
There doesn’t seem to be enough hours in the day, starting with coffee in bed, reading, trying not to get embroiled as l watch the horrendous happenings in Gazza.
Once up, breakfast out on the back of the ship, watching the blue seas rolling up into the smooth yet giant swells.
Getting into a real bad habit of eating a couple of lusciously, soft and delicious, iced buns coated with full fat creamy butter every morning. A real sugar and fat fix. But I’m on holiday.
I balance the habit, in my mind by omitting the full cooked breakfast on offer. Replacing with figs and prunes with a good dollop of plain thick yet creamy yoghurt.
For exercise a quick mile around the exercise track before heading into the bridge class. Find it fascinating, great fun. For the time being at least, might get more gruelling as time goes on and it gets more complicated.
Before l know it, it’s lunch followed by cricket.
Everyone can’t believe that you can play cricket on a ship. But you can, in the basketball/tennis court. So the ball is contained, not flying in the air and polluting the seas. Fantastic fun. Average age of the players, about 70. But they give their all. Helps that you don’t have to run to score. Instead you have tramlines across the court. So if you go over all four, it’s a four. Hit the back net without the ball touching the floor it’s a six.
You loose five points if you are caught or bowled. You’re not out, you just play two overs each.
Life is such a ball. Halloween is approaching, people all brought their costumes. I have a mask whilst Judith has a scary headdress. At least we tried.
Wed Ist Nov 2023
Antigua
28°
most places are closed due to it being a public holiday. Not that there are a huge amount of shops to visit down in the port. normally just the usual franchises selling jewellery. Although did manage to find one small supermarket that had a good supply of our 1.75Lt of locally made rum, all for $11. Cant be bad.
No need to roam the streets, it’s just too hot and humid. Only been off the ship for 30 minutes and my shirt is sticking to me.
So returned and enjoyed the comfort of the ship with all that it has to offer.
The rum is for the summer months back in Innellan, Scotland , and Judith’s famous rum punch. Especially good on hot days in the garden or on the deck. Or even just warm days. Any excuse will suffice.
The recipe, extracted from a vender all the way from Barbados is so simple.
One of sour - lime/lemon juice
Two of sweet - sugar syrup
Three of strong - rum
Four of week - water
Then a dash of angostura and a sprinkle of nutmeg. Umbrellas optional.
St Vincent
From the ship it looks a very intereshng island - mountainous and full of vegetiton with houses dotted around, slinking into the lush landscape.
The captain manoeuvres the ship into a small bay, which brings us under sheer cliffs with verdant greenery clinging onto the craggy outcrops, all reflected into the sparkling blue waters.
A lot of activity around the harbour with masses of construction taking place where they seem to be reclaiming land from the sea.
From my first impression it seems that they are perhaps sea defences. Or then again
it could be a new terminal .
In fact once we get off we soon can see that they are extending the port, reclaiming land.
It’s a busy port, masses of activity, but then again it is a Friday, market day. The people seem very friendly, big smiles and eager to help.
The old colonial style is on view throughout the town and the police force still has the sparking while uniforms found in the old British Colonies.
They are all out on parade, directing traffic, big beaming smiles, pure white teeth on show.
Being a Friday & market day, all the locals are out doing their weekly shopping from the array of supermarkets, stores and market stalls.
The first supermarket was full of Waitrose products, charging similar prices to those in the UK, perhaps slightly more. - Not surprising when you consider how far it has been shiped - The co-op supplies the other major supermarket by the look of the packaging.
The old fashioned Victorian prison which also houses the police station looked rather dilapidated. Definitely seen better days. The ship security officer, who had befriended us, told us that all the prisoners are released at the weekends to save on money.
A neat idea. That is if it doesn’t include Rapists, Murders and the like.
Headed along the front, the Main Street and continued towards the poorer part of town, corrugated huts, paint peeling off, a real shanty town, yet the people were still friendly and hospitable.
As we walked towards a broad set of steps leading somewhere, we new not where. We chatted with a lady who was seated on her front doorstep cutting vegetables into an old beaten pot. She explained where to go. The steps led up to a main road, the graveyard to the right and the route to the fort to the left. Approx a 45 minute walk. All uphill.
Across from her, on a piece of scrap land, a pig tethered to the base of a tree was happily snouting around in the rubbish clad earth. Chickens foraged, scratching around vegetables. But crops that didn’t resemble anything we grow at home. The earth was black and full of minerals, a perfect growing medum.
Papaya, coconut and other tropical fruits grew in abundance, as did the flowers. Butterflies and humming birds fluttered around; as did other exotic birds, similar to our kingfisher back home.
As we neared the fort the heavens suddenly opened, and this persisted all the way back to the ship. We were soaked, shoes, shirts, shorts, rucksack, the lot. Even though we had umbrellas the horizontal rain penetrated everywhere. But it was worth it.
Although there was a casualty. My sneakers.
Once dry they took on an unearthly odour smelling something in between a ripe piece of Stilton and a twelve day old dead rat. The paint on the cabin walls started to peel. Washed them, tumble dried them, coated with odour eater powder, sprayed them with underarm deodorant and aftershave cologne, but they still stunk the cabin out. Eventually wrapped them tightly in a paper bag and disposed of them humanely.
Saturday 4th, St Lucia. 26°C.
The ship tied up near to the town, and all the regulars moaned and groaned. The normal dock has been taken by a Costa ship full of Americans. The location of all the rum bars, Many of the regulars used to head out to the bars as soon as the ship docked. Commandeering a stool for the entire day until it was time to totter back to the ship just before it departed.
Presently they are all huddled in a corner of the breakfast buffet trying to work out how to get all the way round. It’s only a 20 minute walk, but most don’t look fit enough to walk for five minutes, not alone 20.
It’s not getting there that’s the problem. In my view it’s how they are going to organise the return journey when they are four sheets to the wind.
We head out for a walk around the town, it’s a busy Saturday. The place is mobbed by locals and four thousand cruise passengers.
Perhaps not that many, some will have headed out on organised tours.
It’s a vibrant lively place, but not necessarily safe. You have to keep your wits about you.
And a hand on your wallet.
It must be difficult for poor island communities to reconcile the wealth they see flaunted by visiting cruise passengers. Most of which will not see any benefit from the influx whatsoever.
Perhaps the cruise industry should sponsor localised projects that benefit the whole community not the minority. Perhaps they do. Something to mull over and research.
We have good walk, spend some money and research other possibilities for when we return next year. Love heading out on the local buses, and we have managed to discover the location of all the various bus starting points. And there are lots.
It’s raining quite hard at first, as we leave the ship, but fortunately it soon stops. It’s become normal on this cruise to the Caribbean. Typical weather for this time of the year. Ever changing, with lots of short sharp showers and always humid.
Didn’t take long to find the stop for the Speightstown bus, and within a matter of minutes it attracts our attention with its horn bellowing to signal its imminent arrival. Jump on and head out with the prerequisite reggae music vibrating through the fabric of the bus.
All manner of people are getting on and off the bus. Old and young, smart hotel workers, nurses coming off shift, rebellious youths with something to prove and prim and proper ladies in their Sunday best heading to Church, wearing their lace gloves which are wrapped around a dog eared bible.
Soon realise that this isn’t the scheduled city bus, it’s the alternative, nipping into the stops a couple of minutes before the regular service. Colourful to say the least. Yet effective.
Get dropped off at the edge of the bus station and walk into the centre. In fact it’s not a centre, more a sprawl of houses, bars and restaurants on the seaward side. With all the commercial buildings across the single road diving the two. In other words, a one horse town.
Yet with what seemed like two churches, a chapel, large public building, possibly the town hall and a supermarket. Not a lot considering it used to be the second largest town of the island and named Little Bristol. Due to the volume of trade existing between Bristol in the U.K and here.
The town was captured by Oliver Cromwell’s forces who had come to put down King Charles 1 supporters.
It was from here that a vibrant trade grew up delivering passengers, goods and slaves to Bridgetown. Many planters and their slaves sailed to establish the colony at Charleston, South Caroline (1670).
Today its a quiet backwater. Other than the discreet hotels that cling to the beach. Most of which are totally self contained luxury hideaways, providing everything a sun seeker could wish fore. Or so the hotel blurb states.
We are happy to join the locals in a seafront ramshackle bar and restaurant. The most popular in town. Or is it because it’s out of season and the only one open. Nevertheless, food was great, view amazing and the rum punches out of this world. Strong, Very strong. Shouldn’t have had two.
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