The Moroccan Adventure
The last few days have been a terrific experience. (To set the stage, the astetics of our ship berth location are - well - third world: The smells of human waste and fish "by product", loose dogs, feral cats, the huge pile of scrap metal next to us on the dock, the crowds of "salespeople" (dates and carpet purchase, etc.), and the dust. But the ship agent has been excellent in doing what needs to be done - he even gave us the use of his office, and wireless network, a five-minute walk away, from where I am sending this communication.)
We arrived in Agadir on Saturday, December 8th, and explored about the city a bit during the afternoon (early curfew for precautionary purposes, all student groups including at least one male student, and females "modestly" dressed). Then early on Sunday - the bus was shipside by 6:15AM - we left for our adventure, traveling inland in a south easterly direction. There were a number of stops - at village
markets and other points of interest. (Toilets were generally of the PWAV- variety, that is, "pee with a view". More than once I gave quiet thanks for the efficiency of the male disposal equipment!) Our route took us several hundred kilometres to the edge of the Sahara, and within 30 km of the border with Algeria, currently a hostile state from Morocco?s point of view. (The military were not in evidence, but there were a half dozen police check points to go through. Incidentally, Morocco?s immediate neighbour to the south on the coast, Western Sahara, is occupied by Morocco.) On Sunday evening we stayed at a hotel in Zagora, then bussed further east in the morning - very arid territory, excepting close proximity to one "river", which is a trickle this time of year, and some "don't look down" climbs up through foothills and back down to the desert floor. After lunch in some shade (nicely catered ? there is a good bit of tourist excursion activity in this area, although we were the only group in evidence that day), and a visit to a bustling market, we drove a few more miles to the literal "end of the road". There I made the acquaintance of Daisy, "my" camel. The ride in to the camp site took about an hour and a half. Advance publicity notwithstanding, the camels patiently made their way up and over the low dunes and wound through the higher ones.
There were twenty of them, in lines of four (tethered one behind the other), each led by a Moroccan "herder". (Because we were a group of 38, at the halfway point those who had been walking replaced the riders to that point. The same procedure was followed on our return the next morning, although with just slightly less enthusiasm. As one of the teachers, I did not want to displace any students desiring a ride back out; nevertheless, Daisy and I were reunited for most of the journey.) I will not be walking quite as fluidly for a day or so - a few hours of camel riding, climbing the highest sand dune in the area to watch the sun set, out at 3:00 AM to look at the stars in the chill of the desert night, and a 12-hour bus ride back to the ship was noted by various body parts as I rolled out of my bunk this morning!) Land rovers had preceded us and the "safari" company personnel had made the site ready. Four-person tents arranged in a semi-circle opened to a camp fire area and a large dining tent, with a "his and her" tent further away for "wash up". We had some authentic Moroccan music and dancing around the fire. In the dining tent we sat on low stools and ate with our bread what I would call a hearty stew (the proper name
escapes me). Most of us were asleep quite early. During a "comfort break" during the night, I marveled at the canopy of stars (mentioned above) and the silence of the desert. It was a special little interval in this larger adventure, one which seemed particularly moving with Advent in my thoughts.
The next morning we had a breakfast of tea and bread, and "broke camp" at first light, arriving back at the bus, and the road, to tackle the return to Agadir. Today we sail at 4:00 PM - my last sail - with Las Palmas, the Canary Islands, our Saturday destination. Exams await the students Thursday through to Saturday lunch time. I fly home via Madrid, London and Toronto on Monday. I'll see most of you very soon! It has been a blast.
Dr "T"/Maurice/Dad/Papa/Tug
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Monday, December 10, 2007
From Here to Agadir
From here (Palermo) to Agadir, our longest sail, November 26 - December 8th
On Monday (departure day), Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday there was nothing of consequence to report. The weather was cloudy, the seas high, but seasickness wasn?t an issue. We are all rather used to the Concordia's performances under varied conditions by now. Classes are going well, and we will finish second "term" this sail, except for a review class and the exam on the voyage from Agadir to Las Palmas. On this leg of the trip I will have taught twelve consecutive days, and
15 classes in each of the two courses, the equivalent of five weeks instruction in a regular Acadia term. It is a busy time!
Thursday through to Sunday featured light breezes and very pleasant conditions. There was a lot of sitting out on deck at available times by all. Shorts and tee shirts, sun block and sun hats are our informal uniforms. A highlight on Friday was "swim call". The ship was stopped - it was dead calm - the zodiac was launched with a couple of strong swimmers on board and they stood off a bit, rather like an ambulance and attendants at a track meet. We were able to jump into the water from the bow sprit, a good height, and swim to mid-ships and a rope ladder. It was great fun, the water was the Mediterranean of course, but on the last day of November not summer warm. I had never swum in kilometer deep water before. An added bonus was a giant sea turtle that happened by at the time. Sunday evening and under way again, we were joined by a dozen or so dolphins at the bow. It was just dark, and the phosphoresce from the algae in the water, disturbed by the passage of the dolphins, was like a special effects light show. It was simply beautiful.
On Monday the wind was up - although a bright day. There were a number of whale sightings. We passed through the Strait of Gibraltar in early evening and into the night. A friend's cell phone and a tower in range allowed me to leave a short message with Claudia's answering machine. Tuesday and Wednesday were hot and sunny as well as we followed along the coast of Morocco. While passing Casablanca (and cell tower availability) I left a few words with Claudia's answering machine again, and Barna's as well (as she is celebrating a birthday this week). The Miss Concordia "Pageant" was held on Wednesday evening - nine males dressed, performed, and were interviewed. I played the part of the tough judge. What follows is a sample question from my "package":
"Should an individual whose bust measurement exceeds her IQ by more
than two standard deviations be:
(1) Sterilized
(2) Have her DNA made available for scientific investigation
(3) Accept a management position with the Hooters restaurant chain
(4) All of the above??"
The evening was fun, if way "over the top" by times.
Thursday and Friday (today) were routine days. We are anchored off Agadir tonight and will come into the harbour in the morning. The weather continues to be favourable, although sleeping has been difficult the past several nights. As a result of heavy storms further north of us - I am counting my blessings - there is a long steady sea swell which rocks the Concordia constantly. It will roll you to the
edge of your bunk, then slam you back against the wall. Putting an extra pillow on one side, and two life jackets on the other has cut down my bunk "roll velocity" some what, but we're all taking a bit of a pounding. However, better this than sea sick enabling conditions!
This in-port programme should be fun. Tomorrow is a free day to roam about the city market and the other sights. Sunday through Tuesday we will be camping in the desert, with camels as one of our sources of transportation. I'll let you all know how it goes!
On Monday (departure day), Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday there was nothing of consequence to report. The weather was cloudy, the seas high, but seasickness wasn?t an issue. We are all rather used to the Concordia's performances under varied conditions by now. Classes are going well, and we will finish second "term" this sail, except for a review class and the exam on the voyage from Agadir to Las Palmas. On this leg of the trip I will have taught twelve consecutive days, and
15 classes in each of the two courses, the equivalent of five weeks instruction in a regular Acadia term. It is a busy time!
Thursday through to Sunday featured light breezes and very pleasant conditions. There was a lot of sitting out on deck at available times by all. Shorts and tee shirts, sun block and sun hats are our informal uniforms. A highlight on Friday was "swim call". The ship was stopped - it was dead calm - the zodiac was launched with a couple of strong swimmers on board and they stood off a bit, rather like an ambulance and attendants at a track meet. We were able to jump into the water from the bow sprit, a good height, and swim to mid-ships and a rope ladder. It was great fun, the water was the Mediterranean of course, but on the last day of November not summer warm. I had never swum in kilometer deep water before. An added bonus was a giant sea turtle that happened by at the time. Sunday evening and under way again, we were joined by a dozen or so dolphins at the bow. It was just dark, and the phosphoresce from the algae in the water, disturbed by the passage of the dolphins, was like a special effects light show. It was simply beautiful.
On Monday the wind was up - although a bright day. There were a number of whale sightings. We passed through the Strait of Gibraltar in early evening and into the night. A friend's cell phone and a tower in range allowed me to leave a short message with Claudia's answering machine. Tuesday and Wednesday were hot and sunny as well as we followed along the coast of Morocco. While passing Casablanca (and cell tower availability) I left a few words with Claudia's answering machine again, and Barna's as well (as she is celebrating a birthday this week). The Miss Concordia "Pageant" was held on Wednesday evening - nine males dressed, performed, and were interviewed. I played the part of the tough judge. What follows is a sample question from my "package":
"Should an individual whose bust measurement exceeds her IQ by more
than two standard deviations be:
(1) Sterilized
(2) Have her DNA made available for scientific investigation
(3) Accept a management position with the Hooters restaurant chain
(4) All of the above??"
The evening was fun, if way "over the top" by times.
Thursday and Friday (today) were routine days. We are anchored off Agadir tonight and will come into the harbour in the morning. The weather continues to be favourable, although sleeping has been difficult the past several nights. As a result of heavy storms further north of us - I am counting my blessings - there is a long steady sea swell which rocks the Concordia constantly. It will roll you to the
edge of your bunk, then slam you back against the wall. Putting an extra pillow on one side, and two life jackets on the other has cut down my bunk "roll velocity" some what, but we're all taking a bit of a pounding. However, better this than sea sick enabling conditions!
This in-port programme should be fun. Tomorrow is a free day to roam about the city market and the other sights. Sunday through Tuesday we will be camping in the desert, with camels as one of our sources of transportation. I'll let you all know how it goes!
Monday, November 26, 2007
Palermo, Sicily, November 22-26th
This is another busy port and one that comes with a "be careful" proviso, although I have seen nothing to suggest it is unsafe (unless one is speaking of the traffic - see below!). We are positioned between a US destroyer, well off to our starboard, and the largest car ferry I have ever seen, to our port side. You will appreciate that my Italian is nonexistent, but I think the (self-important) traffic director I was chatting up "said" 650 cars capacity (we were holding up fingers to get the total and the "50" part was a source of prolonged ambiguity), this taking place in a calm moment produced by the stalling out of a triple semi-trailer (a load of pizza boxes likely).
With no hesitation I put forward the Italian drivers as the worst I have seen in the ten countries visited to date (and it is hard to imagine that Morocco, our last -new - country to come, can outperform these maniacs). Some examples from the last two days (1) A city bus ran a red light, pure and simple. I know, because the "little green man" symbol for the pedestrian crosswalk had already been presented in "my" direction. The bus driver just lay on the horn (that was for me), and the gas (that was for a cluster of others readying themselves for the crossing), and sailed on through. (2) One has to contend with motor bikes and motorized scooters that take to the sidewalks when presented with what they perceive to be impassable street conditions (any pedestrian congestion encountered is just slalomed through).(3) In what must be a "where do I start" job from hell, I saw a traffic warden ticketing several cars triple parked out side of a betting shop. The warden was wearing a beaked cap that was right out of central casting, a sort of traffic hazard in and of itself! To end this theme on a positive note, I have seen a great number of "smart" cars. They certainly are "parkable"! I have observed them nose to nose, back to nose, perpendicular to the curb, perpendicular to each other, double-parked with each other. Come to think of it, if I were to see one on top of each other (the missionary position as it were) I'd have "a complete set".
My "watch group" and I had an overnight to a seaside resort town, Cefalu, an hour?s train ride from here. It is the off season, of course, so we were able to negotiate two small apartments near the beach for 25 euros a "head". The units each had a double bed and bunk beds, plus a small kitchen, and a continental breakfast was included. There were seven of us - four guys counting me - so it all worked out (I got the top bunk). We had a good time exploring the town, walking the beach, eating out together. They are a good bunch of kids: four Canadians (two from Calgary, two from Ontario), an American from outside of Boston, and a Bahamian.
Today we (eighteen of us) took a city bus to another little resort town twenty minutes away, nestled in the coastal hills. As part of the in-port program (i.e. pre-paid), bikes were rented and we went on a 30 kilometre ride up, up, up and down, down, down the other side, returning to our starting point. We had a support vehicle (for backpacks, water, etc) and two riders (front and back). The bikes were excellent; all that was missing were helmets. There were no mishaps and it was great fun! The route was right along the coast. The elevation was about a double Blomidon lookoff, and the gradient was much like the Cabot Trail, with lots of hairpins and -switchbacks, and my are some of those kids going to be stiff and sore tomorrow! (Of
course it wasn't a race, but several bikes broke away from the main group near the summit, in a dash for the top. I was a witness to this sub-plot.)
Palermo has been a difficult port to get online, and today - Sunday - little is open. I will send this tomorrow morning, but not "at the crack of dawn", because things don't get going that early here in Sicily I have found. We sail tomorrow afternoon (November 26th) for Agadir, Morocco, a twelve-day voyage, my longest. Then after three days there, it is a two-day "jaunt" to Las Palmas, Canary Islands,
from where I fly home in three weeks!
With no hesitation I put forward the Italian drivers as the worst I have seen in the ten countries visited to date (and it is hard to imagine that Morocco, our last -new - country to come, can outperform these maniacs). Some examples from the last two days (1) A city bus ran a red light, pure and simple. I know, because the "little green man" symbol for the pedestrian crosswalk had already been presented in "my" direction. The bus driver just lay on the horn (that was for me), and the gas (that was for a cluster of others readying themselves for the crossing), and sailed on through. (2) One has to contend with motor bikes and motorized scooters that take to the sidewalks when presented with what they perceive to be impassable street conditions (any pedestrian congestion encountered is just slalomed through).(3) In what must be a "where do I start" job from hell, I saw a traffic warden ticketing several cars triple parked out side of a betting shop. The warden was wearing a beaked cap that was right out of central casting, a sort of traffic hazard in and of itself! To end this theme on a positive note, I have seen a great number of "smart" cars. They certainly are "parkable"! I have observed them nose to nose, back to nose, perpendicular to the curb, perpendicular to each other, double-parked with each other. Come to think of it, if I were to see one on top of each other (the missionary position as it were) I'd have "a complete set".
My "watch group" and I had an overnight to a seaside resort town, Cefalu, an hour?s train ride from here. It is the off season, of course, so we were able to negotiate two small apartments near the beach for 25 euros a "head". The units each had a double bed and bunk beds, plus a small kitchen, and a continental breakfast was included. There were seven of us - four guys counting me - so it all worked out (I got the top bunk). We had a good time exploring the town, walking the beach, eating out together. They are a good bunch of kids: four Canadians (two from Calgary, two from Ontario), an American from outside of Boston, and a Bahamian.
Today we (eighteen of us) took a city bus to another little resort town twenty minutes away, nestled in the coastal hills. As part of the in-port program (i.e. pre-paid), bikes were rented and we went on a 30 kilometre ride up, up, up and down, down, down the other side, returning to our starting point. We had a support vehicle (for backpacks, water, etc) and two riders (front and back). The bikes were excellent; all that was missing were helmets. There were no mishaps and it was great fun! The route was right along the coast. The elevation was about a double Blomidon lookoff, and the gradient was much like the Cabot Trail, with lots of hairpins and -switchbacks, and my are some of those kids going to be stiff and sore tomorrow! (Of
course it wasn't a race, but several bikes broke away from the main group near the summit, in a dash for the top. I was a witness to this sub-plot.)
Palermo has been a difficult port to get online, and today - Sunday - little is open. I will send this tomorrow morning, but not "at the crack of dawn", because things don't get going that early here in Sicily I have found. We sail tomorrow afternoon (November 26th) for Agadir, Morocco, a twelve-day voyage, my longest. Then after three days there, it is a two-day "jaunt" to Las Palmas, Canary Islands,
from where I fly home in three weeks!
Friday, November 23, 2007
Nov 16-22
Odds and Ends
Of course many travelers have much more experience than me, but for those who share my 'foreign' language limitations, I am wondering if you have experienced what I will call a 'don't speak the language fatigue'. Cartagena is our eleventh port, and Spanish follows French, German, Danish, Swedish, Finnish, and Russian as 'local tongues' (besides English dialects, in London and Dublin). We arrive in a port, and perhaps have a street map provided by the port authority, and some recalled 'this and thats' from members of the crew or teaching staff from previous visits, but no master plan, and no 'designated facilitator'. So we, as individuals, strike out to find internet sites, bus schedules, bus and train stations, supermarkets, major
tourist spots, etc, and cope as best we can with a smile, hand gestures, and good intentions. It is not without its stressful moments.
On a related theme, I enjoy reading newspapers. While I generally don't buy the ones with 'today's sunshine girl', or UFO abduction stories - I just look at the pictures - it is limiting, to have no English language papers, magazines, or books on offer. Sure, I visit the globeandmail.com, but it is not the same thing. (Now it is true, with this port being on the Mediterranean, there are a few British papers popping up on the stands for the tourist trade.)
The Cartagenan public works department was out in full force this morning. One crew were affixing the Christmas angels, shepherds and so on to the street light poles, while another group was cutting the grass and tending the flower beds in the boulevard across from the marina.
The Spanish are much like Canadians. People of all ages were lining up to pay the 'head tax on the stupid' - that is, to buy lottery tickets, of all shapes and sizes. That pretty accurately describes the sales force as well - I saw a midget doing a brisk business on the high street aided by his sales pitch exhortations rendered in a whiney auctioneer type stream of, well, Spanish. And there was a heavy weight husband and wife team - I'd say 250 pounds each - set up on a competing street corner. I didn't actually see a marriage license, but there is something about the body language of some couples that tells you they are hitched.
Cartagena to Palermo, November 16-22
Fair weather and little wind has characterized our first day or two out. As I write this note, Alger, Algeria is over the horizon on starboard, Menorca on port, with Sardinia straight ahead and 100 miles distant. Adam, the first mate, gives us briefings at Colours each morning on our speed, wind conditions and other pertinent facts. This morning he offered the reassurance that there have been only eight cases of documented piracy in these waters over the past ten years! Hum.
This evening (Sunday) we had a thanksgiving dinner. It had been scheduled to be exactly half-way between the Canadian and American dates, but that would have put it in the middle of our stomach flu period, so tonight was the night. We teachers set table, served, and did all the clean up. Jan cooked the dinner and it was excellent, including a pineapple pieces fondue (in lieu of pumpkin pie.) I'd finish the day with a shower, but we are under sail now on a port tack and the way we are heeled over the shower water would go where it mustn't. It is a tough tack to shave on as well, but convenient for sleeping as it holds me in my bunk. The wind is steadily increasing so I expect a fairly rough ride by morning!
Morning (November 19th) has arrived, and we have every square inch of sail the Concordia possesses pressed into duty. The wind is moderate and is forecast to 'back' to south-east as the morning progresses. This is an inconvenient wind direction for our present destination, so we will be making excellent speed but having to 'zigzag' to get there. I have been meeting with my watch group (I am their 'watch dog', remember) to make plans for a Palermo outing. A story in the latest Time magazine mentions Palermo prominently as a central city in the mafia hierarchy. Perhaps we could take a tour of some of their reputed businesses -protection, money laundering, drugs, prostitution, etc.
During the night I felt a change in heading, and the ship went into what I have been known to call 'bracelet day' mode - that is, carnival ride after carnival ride, all for the same price! This morning is sunny, with high seas. The wind is into our teeth so we are motoring. All the sails are down. I don?t know the wind speed but it is such that it is blowing the tops off the waves. I wore my 'foulies' to Colours as spray is coming across the deck. The wind is forecast to pick up throughout the day. Sardinia is a smudge on the port-side horizon. My tummy is just fine but I expect to see some 'green' faces in my classes today!
We will arrive in Palermo in a couple of hours (morning of November 22nd). Thankfully the seas have abated from their grand performance stature of the last couple of days. Yesterday was one of my least comfortable days of the entire journey. At one point waves were breaking on the deck and proceeding right over the mess, so that my early morning class there required the 'windows' to be tightly closed to protect books and papers on the tables. My usually reliable stomach had had enough of this churning by mid-morning and did the honourable thing. A nap through lunch (food was not a realistic option) stabilized things and by supper time bread and soup were welcome.
We watched The Godfather in the mess to get in the mood.
Of course many travelers have much more experience than me, but for those who share my 'foreign' language limitations, I am wondering if you have experienced what I will call a 'don't speak the language fatigue'. Cartagena is our eleventh port, and Spanish follows French, German, Danish, Swedish, Finnish, and Russian as 'local tongues' (besides English dialects, in London and Dublin). We arrive in a port, and perhaps have a street map provided by the port authority, and some recalled 'this and thats' from members of the crew or teaching staff from previous visits, but no master plan, and no 'designated facilitator'. So we, as individuals, strike out to find internet sites, bus schedules, bus and train stations, supermarkets, major
tourist spots, etc, and cope as best we can with a smile, hand gestures, and good intentions. It is not without its stressful moments.
On a related theme, I enjoy reading newspapers. While I generally don't buy the ones with 'today's sunshine girl', or UFO abduction stories - I just look at the pictures - it is limiting, to have no English language papers, magazines, or books on offer. Sure, I visit the globeandmail.com, but it is not the same thing. (Now it is true, with this port being on the Mediterranean, there are a few British papers popping up on the stands for the tourist trade.)
The Cartagenan public works department was out in full force this morning. One crew were affixing the Christmas angels, shepherds and so on to the street light poles, while another group was cutting the grass and tending the flower beds in the boulevard across from the marina.
The Spanish are much like Canadians. People of all ages were lining up to pay the 'head tax on the stupid' - that is, to buy lottery tickets, of all shapes and sizes. That pretty accurately describes the sales force as well - I saw a midget doing a brisk business on the high street aided by his sales pitch exhortations rendered in a whiney auctioneer type stream of, well, Spanish. And there was a heavy weight husband and wife team - I'd say 250 pounds each - set up on a competing street corner. I didn't actually see a marriage license, but there is something about the body language of some couples that tells you they are hitched.
Cartagena to Palermo, November 16-22
Fair weather and little wind has characterized our first day or two out. As I write this note, Alger, Algeria is over the horizon on starboard, Menorca on port, with Sardinia straight ahead and 100 miles distant. Adam, the first mate, gives us briefings at Colours each morning on our speed, wind conditions and other pertinent facts. This morning he offered the reassurance that there have been only eight cases of documented piracy in these waters over the past ten years! Hum.
This evening (Sunday) we had a thanksgiving dinner. It had been scheduled to be exactly half-way between the Canadian and American dates, but that would have put it in the middle of our stomach flu period, so tonight was the night. We teachers set table, served, and did all the clean up. Jan cooked the dinner and it was excellent, including a pineapple pieces fondue (in lieu of pumpkin pie.) I'd finish the day with a shower, but we are under sail now on a port tack and the way we are heeled over the shower water would go where it mustn't. It is a tough tack to shave on as well, but convenient for sleeping as it holds me in my bunk. The wind is steadily increasing so I expect a fairly rough ride by morning!
Morning (November 19th) has arrived, and we have every square inch of sail the Concordia possesses pressed into duty. The wind is moderate and is forecast to 'back' to south-east as the morning progresses. This is an inconvenient wind direction for our present destination, so we will be making excellent speed but having to 'zigzag' to get there. I have been meeting with my watch group (I am their 'watch dog', remember) to make plans for a Palermo outing. A story in the latest Time magazine mentions Palermo prominently as a central city in the mafia hierarchy. Perhaps we could take a tour of some of their reputed businesses -protection, money laundering, drugs, prostitution, etc.
During the night I felt a change in heading, and the ship went into what I have been known to call 'bracelet day' mode - that is, carnival ride after carnival ride, all for the same price! This morning is sunny, with high seas. The wind is into our teeth so we are motoring. All the sails are down. I don?t know the wind speed but it is such that it is blowing the tops off the waves. I wore my 'foulies' to Colours as spray is coming across the deck. The wind is forecast to pick up throughout the day. Sardinia is a smudge on the port-side horizon. My tummy is just fine but I expect to see some 'green' faces in my classes today!
We will arrive in Palermo in a couple of hours (morning of November 22nd). Thankfully the seas have abated from their grand performance stature of the last couple of days. Yesterday was one of my least comfortable days of the entire journey. At one point waves were breaking on the deck and proceeding right over the mess, so that my early morning class there required the 'windows' to be tightly closed to protect books and papers on the tables. My usually reliable stomach had had enough of this churning by mid-morning and did the honourable thing. A nap through lunch (food was not a realistic option) stabilized things and by supper time bread and soup were welcome.
We watched The Godfather in the mess to get in the mood.
Friday, November 16, 2007
Cartagena, November 12th - November 16th
The whole time in this port we experienced cool evenings and early mornings and warm, sunny, cloud free days. It was a suggested parent visitation port, so the ship had a much diminished population as the parents who came stayed in hotels (or went touring), often taking one or two extra students. I will hear plenty of these adventures over the coming days but I do know of groups who went off to Lisbon or Barcelona.
The city itself is undergoing urban renewal - lots of building, renovation, much remaining to be done. Its time of greatest splendor was probably the period under Roman rule. It has seen many masters over the ages and boasts ruins spanning two thousand years. It has the friendliness of la Coruna, but lacks the charm. Our surroundings in the harbour are a mixed lot. We are adjacent to a large marina (with some impressive boats), with the small fishing fleet on our other side. The container ship berths are across the harbour, and sequestered in a large cove around the headland is an impressive sampling of the Spanish navy (including a couple of subs).
An interesting three-person delegation from a volunteer organization called Whale Force made a presentation to us on the ship early in our stay. Based in Cochrane, Alberta (of all places), their interest is in logging the sightings and locations of whales world wide. A sailing ship like the Concordia would be a valuable ally as we have the educational interest, roam the world's seas and travel at a speed
which allows for casual observation of our fellow 'travelers'. We agreed to participate in the data collection.
After a short bus ride to a coastal community called Los Belones we hiked some coastal hills, bringing our selves to a beach which stretched for miles. Some of the students and teachers got 'fully immersed' for a brief period of time. I waded; the water temperature was somewhere between the South Shore in September, and PEI in August.
The highlight of the day to me was a bushwhacking adventure to the highest peak in southern Spain. Heading off from the beach inland, we (there were three in our group) scrambled and climbed to a rugged promontory with a spectacular 360 view. The return trip took a couple of hours, and I have some aches and stiffness this morning, plus scratches from the rosemary bushes, but it was a great adventure. (I
have my climbing urge now satisfied ? a couple of days ago I climbed the main mast up to the flag at the very top. It had to be done, and it is a fair sight more easily accomplished while in port, rather than arcing through 20-40 degrees while at sea!)
Today we will sail on the afternoon tide. Palermo, Sicily is our next port of call. I have my food supplies purchased from the local market to sustain this six-day voyage: Clementines, carrots, boxed juices, crackers, peanut butter and chocolate!
The city itself is undergoing urban renewal - lots of building, renovation, much remaining to be done. Its time of greatest splendor was probably the period under Roman rule. It has seen many masters over the ages and boasts ruins spanning two thousand years. It has the friendliness of la Coruna, but lacks the charm. Our surroundings in the harbour are a mixed lot. We are adjacent to a large marina (with some impressive boats), with the small fishing fleet on our other side. The container ship berths are across the harbour, and sequestered in a large cove around the headland is an impressive sampling of the Spanish navy (including a couple of subs).
An interesting three-person delegation from a volunteer organization called Whale Force made a presentation to us on the ship early in our stay. Based in Cochrane, Alberta (of all places), their interest is in logging the sightings and locations of whales world wide. A sailing ship like the Concordia would be a valuable ally as we have the educational interest, roam the world's seas and travel at a speed
which allows for casual observation of our fellow 'travelers'. We agreed to participate in the data collection.
After a short bus ride to a coastal community called Los Belones we hiked some coastal hills, bringing our selves to a beach which stretched for miles. Some of the students and teachers got 'fully immersed' for a brief period of time. I waded; the water temperature was somewhere between the South Shore in September, and PEI in August.
The highlight of the day to me was a bushwhacking adventure to the highest peak in southern Spain. Heading off from the beach inland, we (there were three in our group) scrambled and climbed to a rugged promontory with a spectacular 360 view. The return trip took a couple of hours, and I have some aches and stiffness this morning, plus scratches from the rosemary bushes, but it was a great adventure. (I
have my climbing urge now satisfied ? a couple of days ago I climbed the main mast up to the flag at the very top. It had to be done, and it is a fair sight more easily accomplished while in port, rather than arcing through 20-40 degrees while at sea!)
Today we will sail on the afternoon tide. Palermo, Sicily is our next port of call. I have my food supplies purchased from the local market to sustain this six-day voyage: Clementines, carrots, boxed juices, crackers, peanut butter and chocolate!
Monday, November 12, 2007
Nov. 2-11th
A Coruna, November 2nd-6th
The time in this port was most enjoyable; Claudia was visiting for two days and after her departure the students and staff had an overnight visit to Santiago de Compostela, an hour's train journey away. This town and its cathedral serve as the western terminus of a well known and popular pilgrim trail. The weather was terrific, low 20s in the afternoon and cool overnight. I did lots of walking, and casual exploring, communicating as best I could with my ten words of Spanish!
A Coruna to Cartagena, November 6th-12th
The sun shone as we left a Coruna and, with a favourable wind from the north-east, we put up lots of sail for our 'scamper' down the Spain-Portugal coast. And we will be buying some new glassware for the galley soon as most all that was on table was smashed with the rolling of the ship during supper. It is all I can do to retain my purchase at my desk in front of my laptop as I write this. We are going to test
the limits of our stomachs tonight with this motion! (Three students were suffering from a bout of food poisoning acquired in town last evening when our sail began - how green can you get with this combination.)
Today (November 7th) the winds have lightened, to the point where we have no sail up at the moment. (We are now wondering if the food poisoning diagnosis was in error. Several more individuals, including the medical officer and the cook, have the symptoms.) We are out of sight of land, along the coast of Portugal. It will take us several days yet to reach the entrance to the Mediterranean.
Another sun-filled day is our lot (November 8th). Between classes I have been out on deck as much as possible. We passed the mouth of the river leading to Lisbon in the forenoon. The coast is just a smudge on the port-side horizon. We are making 9 knots, motor only, as there is little wind. A Portuguese high speed patrol boat buzzed around us around lunch time. They just took a look, waved, and were off again. There is very little shipping traffic in evidence at the moment. A few
fishing boats can be seen between us and the coast. I expect that the traffic will pick up as we approach the entrance to the Mediterranean.
I am finding it necessary, as the journey progresses, to stock up on certain food items while in port. For instance, before leaving a Coruna, I bought some figs, dried apricots, oranges, cherry tomatoes, peanut butter, crackers, canned fruit and almonds. Our meals are not devoid of fruit (taste, perhaps) or protein, but supplementing makes for increased variety and is the only salvation in the case of some meal offerings. As I joked with Claudia during our recent time together, I wish never to see couscous again, and no stir fries or white rice until 2010 or so. Also, I favour eliminating salt as an ingredient in anything served at table once returned safely home.
The fair weather, light wind conditions continue (November 9th). We are out of sight of land at the moment. It is estimated we will reach Gibraltar around 11 PM. I was hoping for a daylight passage into the Mediterranean. We'll be able to see the lights of course.
Two developments over night of consequence: the wind has freshened and is blowing a stiff breeze into our teeth, and three more students have gone down with the intestinal virus. So far so good for me. So I emerge from class, summoned by the noon time galley bell, in heavy seas, to be welcomed by pots of grey liquid with diced hotdogs bobbing on the surface, and bread and water. My grandmother taught me to say nothing if I cannot find something constructive to say. Here follows several minutes of studied silence dedicated to my suppressed recollections of lunch on the 10th of November!
Today is Remembrance Day and we suspended classes to allow for a short program at 11:00 AM. "On Flanders Field" was read and we had a minute's silence.
We are on schedule to arrive in Cartagena tomorrow morning. It will be a relief to have a few days of shore wanderings, and a break from seven straight days of teaching. The weather is pleasant - a lot of the students are sunning themselves up on the mizzen deck. The dolphins are sporting about and a whale has sounded twice in the vicinity of the ship. We can see the coast of Spain through the coastal haze. The ocean surface has hardly a ripple at the moment (4:00 PM, November 11th). My 5:00 PM Macro class was punctuated by a "man overboard" drill. One can appreciate the importance of such simulations, although the students hardly need more distractions!
This is a port to which parents have been officially invited and about a third of the students on board will have a family member or two. The intestinal woes experienced by some have now receded. No new cases have developed in the past 24 hours.
The time in this port was most enjoyable; Claudia was visiting for two days and after her departure the students and staff had an overnight visit to Santiago de Compostela, an hour's train journey away. This town and its cathedral serve as the western terminus of a well known and popular pilgrim trail. The weather was terrific, low 20s in the afternoon and cool overnight. I did lots of walking, and casual exploring, communicating as best I could with my ten words of Spanish!
A Coruna to Cartagena, November 6th-12th
The sun shone as we left a Coruna and, with a favourable wind from the north-east, we put up lots of sail for our 'scamper' down the Spain-Portugal coast. And we will be buying some new glassware for the galley soon as most all that was on table was smashed with the rolling of the ship during supper. It is all I can do to retain my purchase at my desk in front of my laptop as I write this. We are going to test
the limits of our stomachs tonight with this motion! (Three students were suffering from a bout of food poisoning acquired in town last evening when our sail began - how green can you get with this combination.)
Today (November 7th) the winds have lightened, to the point where we have no sail up at the moment. (We are now wondering if the food poisoning diagnosis was in error. Several more individuals, including the medical officer and the cook, have the symptoms.) We are out of sight of land, along the coast of Portugal. It will take us several days yet to reach the entrance to the Mediterranean.
Another sun-filled day is our lot (November 8th). Between classes I have been out on deck as much as possible. We passed the mouth of the river leading to Lisbon in the forenoon. The coast is just a smudge on the port-side horizon. We are making 9 knots, motor only, as there is little wind. A Portuguese high speed patrol boat buzzed around us around lunch time. They just took a look, waved, and were off again. There is very little shipping traffic in evidence at the moment. A few
fishing boats can be seen between us and the coast. I expect that the traffic will pick up as we approach the entrance to the Mediterranean.
I am finding it necessary, as the journey progresses, to stock up on certain food items while in port. For instance, before leaving a Coruna, I bought some figs, dried apricots, oranges, cherry tomatoes, peanut butter, crackers, canned fruit and almonds. Our meals are not devoid of fruit (taste, perhaps) or protein, but supplementing makes for increased variety and is the only salvation in the case of some meal offerings. As I joked with Claudia during our recent time together, I wish never to see couscous again, and no stir fries or white rice until 2010 or so. Also, I favour eliminating salt as an ingredient in anything served at table once returned safely home.
The fair weather, light wind conditions continue (November 9th). We are out of sight of land at the moment. It is estimated we will reach Gibraltar around 11 PM. I was hoping for a daylight passage into the Mediterranean. We'll be able to see the lights of course.
Two developments over night of consequence: the wind has freshened and is blowing a stiff breeze into our teeth, and three more students have gone down with the intestinal virus. So far so good for me. So I emerge from class, summoned by the noon time galley bell, in heavy seas, to be welcomed by pots of grey liquid with diced hotdogs bobbing on the surface, and bread and water. My grandmother taught me to say nothing if I cannot find something constructive to say. Here follows several minutes of studied silence dedicated to my suppressed recollections of lunch on the 10th of November!
Today is Remembrance Day and we suspended classes to allow for a short program at 11:00 AM. "On Flanders Field" was read and we had a minute's silence.
We are on schedule to arrive in Cartagena tomorrow morning. It will be a relief to have a few days of shore wanderings, and a break from seven straight days of teaching. The weather is pleasant - a lot of the students are sunning themselves up on the mizzen deck. The dolphins are sporting about and a whale has sounded twice in the vicinity of the ship. We can see the coast of Spain through the coastal haze. The ocean surface has hardly a ripple at the moment (4:00 PM, November 11th). My 5:00 PM Macro class was punctuated by a "man overboard" drill. One can appreciate the importance of such simulations, although the students hardly need more distractions!
This is a port to which parents have been officially invited and about a third of the students on board will have a family member or two. The intestinal woes experienced by some have now receded. No new cases have developed in the past 24 hours.
Monday, November 5, 2007
Dublin & La Coruna
Dublin – 2007 'first impressions', October 26-29th
Allowing that the harbour area of any city will likely be less attractive than the city proper (although Copenhagen and Stockholm are both beautiful from the water up), Dublin is very much a mixed bag. If one were to use 'number of high-rise construction cranes' as a proxy for economic robustness, the city is booming. Trinity College, a ten-minute walk from our berth, has its beautiful grounds looking grand. The streets are dirtier than London but better than St Petersburg. A lot of mostly passive 'panhandling' is going on. (An immigrant mother with her infant child, an Irishman with two black eyes, a couple of errant teeth and a sailor's tongue, and a couple of bedraggled teens and a dog, were among those in evidence on the 'High Street'. I have yet to figure out the best manner in which to deal with this 'have-have not' conundrum in cases where I am just passing through – Spring Garden Road, Halifax versus 'downtown' Wolfville. For the record, in this specific instance, I gave the mother a little money, the young people and dog some food, and the other chap a nod; he was the least impressed, and the most expressive. I had a brochure outlining upcoming lectures at the university which I chose not to offer.)The people have what might be described as character faces; many look as though everyday life is a struggle. The prices are similar to London: expensive – a cup of coffee and a 'little something' 5-7 euros. Tesco, a British grocery chain (think Atlantic Superstore), is here, selling Tim Horton donuts ( 1.49 euros for a chocolate glazed: about $2.10 Canadian) as one of its items! The price of a litre of unleaded regular is 1.38 euros, $1.96 Canadian.
As part of our in-port activities an excursion was organized to Causey farm, an hour plus by bus from Dublin. Now I wouldn't have thought of such an activity myself, but we all had a great time. Activities included learning a Ceili dance, watching a sheepdog demonstration, milking a cow, taking part in an Irish drum class, learning the basic idea of the Irish national game hurling, a tractor and wagon trip to a peat bog and a forest, and making (and later eating) brown bread. The people at the farm were also getting ready for Halloween, so we were treated to their haunted house experience, and we brought two pumpkins back to the ship which were made into jack-o-lanterns for the 31 st.
I did a lot of walking (as per usual) about the city. On Sunday several of us went to Christ Church Cathedral. On a tour of Trinity College library I viewed the Book of Kells, a lavishly decorated copy, in Latin, of the four gospels, probably produced early in the 9 th century by the monks of Iona.
Miscellaneous: One exciting aspect of coming to each port is the opportunity to use the internet to communicate with family and friends and catch up on some of the Canadian news stories. No two ports are the same with regard to internet access. In Dublin, for instance, we could pick up a wireless network signal from the ship at certain times of the day. By filling out a form at the city library I was issued a library card which allowed free internet access as one of the services. Franchises like McDonalds and Subway have their own wireless networks for customers who have brought their laptops along (a number of local coffee shops have wireless as well). And there are the 'Internet/International Calls' type places which provide the computer access for an hourly fee.
Dublin – La Coruna, October 29 – November 3.
This journey was relatively uneventful. The winds were generally favourable and we made good time. At some points we were truly in the Atlantic, with water depths in the 4,000 metre range!
Halloween was celebrated on the 31st, including costumes and trick or treating. I have now managed to get all the face paints removed – it took a while! (The students are not to have food items stored in their cabins which would attract bugs and mould as starters. Once in a while there are cabin inspections to check on their 'state of affairs'. An inspection the evening we left Dublin yielded vast quantities of contraband, including lots of Halloween treat type goodies. These items were confiscated then 'returned' as treats a couple of evenings later!)
Allowing that the harbour area of any city will likely be less attractive than the city proper (although Copenhagen and Stockholm are both beautiful from the water up), Dublin is very much a mixed bag. If one were to use 'number of high-rise construction cranes' as a proxy for economic robustness, the city is booming. Trinity College, a ten-minute walk from our berth, has its beautiful grounds looking grand. The streets are dirtier than London but better than St Petersburg. A lot of mostly passive 'panhandling' is going on. (An immigrant mother with her infant child, an Irishman with two black eyes, a couple of errant teeth and a sailor's tongue, and a couple of bedraggled teens and a dog, were among those in evidence on the 'High Street'. I have yet to figure out the best manner in which to deal with this 'have-have not' conundrum in cases where I am just passing through – Spring Garden Road, Halifax versus 'downtown' Wolfville. For the record, in this specific instance, I gave the mother a little money, the young people and dog some food, and the other chap a nod; he was the least impressed, and the most expressive. I had a brochure outlining upcoming lectures at the university which I chose not to offer.)The people have what might be described as character faces; many look as though everyday life is a struggle. The prices are similar to London: expensive – a cup of coffee and a 'little something' 5-7 euros. Tesco, a British grocery chain (think Atlantic Superstore), is here, selling Tim Horton donuts ( 1.49 euros for a chocolate glazed: about $2.10 Canadian) as one of its items! The price of a litre of unleaded regular is 1.38 euros, $1.96 Canadian.
As part of our in-port activities an excursion was organized to Causey farm, an hour plus by bus from Dublin. Now I wouldn't have thought of such an activity myself, but we all had a great time. Activities included learning a Ceili dance, watching a sheepdog demonstration, milking a cow, taking part in an Irish drum class, learning the basic idea of the Irish national game hurling, a tractor and wagon trip to a peat bog and a forest, and making (and later eating) brown bread. The people at the farm were also getting ready for Halloween, so we were treated to their haunted house experience, and we brought two pumpkins back to the ship which were made into jack-o-lanterns for the 31 st.
I did a lot of walking (as per usual) about the city. On Sunday several of us went to Christ Church Cathedral. On a tour of Trinity College library I viewed the Book of Kells, a lavishly decorated copy, in Latin, of the four gospels, probably produced early in the 9 th century by the monks of Iona.
Miscellaneous: One exciting aspect of coming to each port is the opportunity to use the internet to communicate with family and friends and catch up on some of the Canadian news stories. No two ports are the same with regard to internet access. In Dublin, for instance, we could pick up a wireless network signal from the ship at certain times of the day. By filling out a form at the city library I was issued a library card which allowed free internet access as one of the services. Franchises like McDonalds and Subway have their own wireless networks for customers who have brought their laptops along (a number of local coffee shops have wireless as well). And there are the 'Internet/International Calls' type places which provide the computer access for an hourly fee.
Dublin – La Coruna, October 29 – November 3.
This journey was relatively uneventful. The winds were generally favourable and we made good time. At some points we were truly in the Atlantic, with water depths in the 4,000 metre range!
Halloween was celebrated on the 31st, including costumes and trick or treating. I have now managed to get all the face paints removed – it took a while! (The students are not to have food items stored in their cabins which would attract bugs and mould as starters. Once in a while there are cabin inspections to check on their 'state of affairs'. An inspection the evening we left Dublin yielded vast quantities of contraband, including lots of Halloween treat type goodies. These items were confiscated then 'returned' as treats a couple of evenings later!)
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