Visit the Paul Bailey's Beer Blog site

I’ve been back in the UK for just over two weeks now, whichmeans all of six days at work. I'm not sure how much my firm missed me, but the mainthing is the first and largest section of the major expansion project I'd been working on for the past year orso, is finally finished. Leaving work aside, the onething I'm really not keen on after three weeks enjoyment of Mediterraneantemperatures, is the wind and the rain, we’ve been experiencing recently. Theadverse weather has unfortunately put paid to any plans for crosscountry walking I might have had and even with me having the appropriate boots plus a pair of gators,I have to say that walking through mud that's up to my ankles fails dramatically in its appeal. My aim of completingthe Tunbridge Wells Circular Walk by the end of the year, therefore looks unlikely to come to fruition. We shall have to wait and see what nature throws at usbetween now and the end of December.
In the midst of all this bad weather, including the latestnamed storm Ciaran, my thoughts have tended to turn back towards those gloriousdays spent on the Queen Victoria cruising around the Mediterranean. Withtemperatures in the mid to upper 20’s, seemingly unbroken sunshine, and the seaas calm as the proverbial mill pond, it's hard to imagine that was just a fewweeks ago. The other strange thing is that with nearly three weeks spent awayfrom home, seasons that were bound to have advanced whilst we were away although, have not done so by as much as we expected. That latter point is reinforced bythe leaves that are still present on the majority of the trees, which is perhapsindicative that conditions in the UK had also been mild during our absence.
One thing I haven't done since our return is set out theactual itinerary of the cruise, which was basically a voyage from Southampton towardsthe eastern fringes of the Mediterranean before heading back to our port ofdeparture. Four different countries, andsome spectacular locations were visited, with the ship docking at sevendifferent locations. Upon leaving Southampton, we spent three days at sea, cruisingacross a surprisingly calm Bay of Biscay, before turning the corner at Cape Finisterre.We then headed due south following the coastline of the Iberian peninsula,before stopping off at the southern port city of Cadiz.
In common with the other destinations on the cruise, wespent the day there, with the choice of a pre-booked excursion, or going ashoreand exploring under our own steam. I’ve already written about our visit toCadiz, so I won’t repeat myself here, but it’s worth recording that from theseven destinations visited, we only went on three guided tours, and one ofthose I undertook by myself Athens – for the Acropolis. The tours aren’tcheap, but they do actually convey participants, by coach, directly from theship, and come with the added bonus of a local guide. They are available tobook, prior to the cruise or, a few days in advance, whilst you are onboardship.
However, if you go down the latter route, you run the riskof them all being sold out; although this time around I managed to book spacesfor the two of us on a guided tour of Lisbon, just a couple of days before we arrivedin the city. It’s also worth mentioning that tours are graded according to thelevel of activity, and here you can choose between excursions with a minimallevel of walking, or you can do something that requires a lot more effort – itall depends on your fitness levels, and how mobile you are. If you’re feeling reallyadventurous, you could go kayaking, horse-riding, or even snorkelling –depending, of course on what’s on offer at the destination concerned.
At every destination on the cruise, the same pattern wasrepeated, with the ship arriving early in the morning, and docking so thatpassengers could disembark at, or shortly after 8 am. There was then around 9hours shore time, before a late afternoon-early evening departure. Passengersare given a time by which everyone must be back onboard, and if people abusethis by pushing their luck, they do run the risk of the ship sailing withoutthem. There was a story circulating, that this happened to two people, when wedeparted the Sardinian capital of Cagliari. It later turned out to be just a rumour,but the risk of being left behind is a very real one. The ship itself has a tight schedule tomaintain, and there is also the issue of port fees. Each vessel is charged forthe time they spend in port, and as some of the fees can be on the high side,the captain doesn’t want to be hanging around. any longer than necessary
Upon leaving Cadiz we passed through the straits ofGibraltar, although as this was after dark, it was hard to see famous rock, whenwe passed by on the port side, even with the aid of the binoculars I broughtwith me. This didn't really matter as we were to sail back through the famous straitson our voyage back to Southampton. We had a further three days at sea ahead ofus, as we passed into the Mediterranean, sailing close to the coast of North Africa,on our starboard (right) side. We passed Morocco Algeria and then Tunisia, asthe ship headed towards our next destination - the Greek island of Mykonos, orso we thought.
The day before we were due to arrive in Mykonos, the captainannounced a change of plan -something that isn't that unusual on sea cruises. Thereason was the weather, but also the limited places for the ship to berth atthis popular “party island.” There were three or four other cruise ships due tovisit at the same time as us, and whilst the lack of spaces on the quaysidecould be overcome – see below, strong winds might present difficulties when itcame to leaving the ship.
Normally the ship would drop anchor offshore, and passengerswould be conveyed to and from the boat by means of small craft known as “tenders.”With strong winds forecast on our day of arrival, the captain and senior crewtook the decision that transfer by tender would be difficult. Alternativearrangements were made instead, with help from the cruise line’srepresentatives onshore. Our destination was therefore switched to Crete, the largestof all the Greek islands, and we would be docking at the town of Heraklion, on the northern coast of the island, where wewould be able to walk down the gangplank and off the ship. Arrival anddeparture times remained as they would have been for Mykonos, and with QueenVictoria’s own offshore team, working in close cooperation with their Cretan counterparts,replacement excursions were hastily arranged.
I’ve already written about Cadiz and Heraklion, and the sameapplies to our next destination – Piraeus, the portof Athens, which was just one day’s sailing away. Moving swiftly on, wedeparted Piraeus after dark, the slightly later departure allowing for a fullday of various activities in the Greek capital. We were heading for the islandof Santorini, a destination that needs little in the way of introduction, especiallyto “Instagrammers.” In 1450 BC, Santorini was devastated by a massive volcaniceruption that caused the middle of the island to collapse, leaving behind asteep-edged crater, or caldera high above the waves.
The island’s two principal towns, Fira and Oia, cling toclifftops high above the underwater caldera, and their picturesque, whitewashedhouses, and contrasting, blue-domed churches, make it one of the mostphotographed places in the world. Transfer to and from shore would be bytender, but given the depth of the caldera, ships are unable to drop anchor,and instead rely on their engines, and thrusters, to hold position against thetides. So far, so good, but we soon learned there were three other cruise shipsin the caldera, performing the same manoeuvres as us, and all equally ladenwith tourists, eager to feast their eyes on Santorini’s picturesque vistas.
To cut a long story short, we decided to remain onboardship. Mrs PBT’s wasn’t confident about stepping on and off the tender, andwhilst this wasn’t an issue for me, the sight of the hordes, milling around onthe quayside, and clearly visible even without the aid of my binoculars, was enoughto put me off as well. I am not a fan of crowds, and the tales told, alter thatday by people who had been ashore, were sufficient to confirm my reluctance. There were two ways up to the rim of the caldera, and thesettlement on top of the cliffs, the first being a recently installed cable car,and the other a steep walk up, a zig-zag path that wound its way to the top.Neither method seemed attractive, as capacity issues on the cable car, meantlong queues at both top and bottom, whilst the marble path was reported asslippery and covered with animal excrement. This was from the donkeys, the poor,misused beasts of burden, used to haul carts of unfit and overweight touristsup to the clifftops, and then back down again!
As mentioned, the people Eileen and I spoke to, later in theday, reported the narrow streets of the clifftop settlement being packed, lengthywaits at cafes and bars, and the dangers of sliding onto ones backside, whilst dodgingthe piles of manure and donkey piss, littering the route up from thewaterfront. In the midst of all this were the poor donkeys, labouring beneath ahot and unforgiving sun, leaving them thirsty and unwilling to continue withtheir cruel and unnecessary burden. We will pause it here for a while, as there are still threemore destinations left to visit, and many more nautical miles of ocean tocover.


Follow Blog via EmailClick to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.


More...