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I hadn’t been to Cadiz before, and neither had Mrs PBT’s,and for the pair of us this Atlantic facing port, close to the southern tip ofSpain, was the furthest south in the country that either of us had visited. Oneof my work colleagues’ hails from a small village close to Cadiz and followinghis advice we decided to spend our time in the port, rather than book a placeon the excursion to Seville. The latter is a two-hour coach ride away, so asthe prospect of sitting on a bus for four hours didn’t appeal, we decided toleave the delights of Seville for another occasion.
It was a short walk from the ship to the exit from the portarea, and whilst the sun was shining, and the temperatures high, there was astrong wind blowing which nearly caused my hat to disappear over the edge ofthe quay. A returning passenger handed us a map of the city, although we onlyneeded to refer to it a couple of times, as the city seemed quite easy tonavigate – at least in the immediate environs of the port.
First stop was a pavement café, facing the gateway to thedocks, so we grabbed a table and ordered ourselves a coffee each. Mrs PBT’sdidn’t want to walk too far, given her mobility issues which date back to herspell in intensive care, five years ago now, but as mentioned above, Cadizseemed easy to navigate and find our way about. The city’s cathedral isreportedly well worth seeing, but as Eileen isn’t as fond of ecclesiasticalbuildings as I am, we decided to give this local landmark a miss.
We found a pleasant park area, with plenty of plane trees,plus the odd orange tree, providing plenty of shade. The area was overlooked bysome fine-looking apartments, with outward facing balconies looking out acrossthe park. We sat there for a while, just soaking up the atmosphere of thisattractive city, whilst watching the world go by. It wasn’t too long beforeitchy feet kicked in, for me at least, so I left my wife sitting on a benchwhilst I set off to explore the immediate vicinity.
It was an area of narrow streets, hemmed in by tallbuildings, which reminded me of the old-town area of Barcelona. Unlike thelatter city, this small section of Cadiz seemed quiet, unhurried and withoutthe sense of unease that does at times, characterise that area of Barcelona. Ipassed a number of interesting local shops, including a fruiterers, a smallcorner shop (no local beers on sale, though), and a rather basic looking,stand-up-to-drink bar. I was almost tempted to pop in, but I didn’t want toleave Eileen on her own for too long. Instead, I decided to make my way back toher, by cutting back via the next block, and it was there that I found the typeof place I was looking for, which was a corner bar, with several outsidetables, plus a multi-lingual menu on a board outside (Spanish, English andGerman).
I returned to collect Mrs PBT’s and suggested we give theplace a try. She was happy to go along with this, and we were soon seated at ashady table outside La Nueva Taberna. I ordered a Diet Coke for Eileen, plus a beerfor myself, although disappointingly there were no local brews available.Instead, a half-litre of Barcelona’s finest (Estrella Dam) hit the spot. Theselection of “Breakfast Appetisers” (Tapas?) sounded interesting, but havingnot long breakfasted on the ship, we weren’t tempted, or at least Eileenwasn’t.
Later on, a number of local customers turned, and they weretempted, and although I didn’t take too much notice of what they were eating,the food on the plates certainly looked appetising. After a coffee and a beer,I needed to make use of the facilities, and this allowed me to view theinterior of the bar. I wasn’t brave enough to take any photos of the interioras I found my way to the Caballero’s, but it had a tiled floor and plenty ofdark wood, of the type that typifies many bars in this part of the world. As we weren’t eating, and as a number of other, presumablylocals had turned up, we thought we’d better leave our table for them to sitat, and as my wife was now starting to get hungry, we decided to return to theship, but not before taking a look at the impressive stone walls that keptCadiz safe from marauders, in times gone by. The fortifications weren’tsufficient to prevent the attack on the Spanish fleet, by Sir Francis Drake, anepisode that went down in history as “the singeing the King of Spain’s beard.” Onthe way back, I looked out for a shop, mainly to buy a few snack or other typesof nibbles. It is something of a tradition at my workplace, for peoplereturning from holiday, to provide some local “goodies” from the place theyhave just visited, but with no suitable shops to be found, we returned to theport entrance, empty handed.
Before re-boarding the ship, we had to pass through anairline-style security area, complete with bag and body scanners. Such areasare sadly, an essential requirement at every place of embarkation, as wediscovered in both Crete and Athens, when returning to the ship. Once throughsecurity, my wife noticed both a Duty Free plus a souvenir shop, and she endedup buying herself yet another bag, plus a few aforementioned nibbles.
This brief visit, of course, only scratched the surface ofCadiz, but we both decided that the city is definitely worthy of a furthervisit, and proper exploration. Combined, perhaps with a stay in nearby Seville,this area of Andalusia, would be a good place to enjoy some pleasant warmsunshine, by escaping the worst of a typical British winter.Follow Blog via EmailClick to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.


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