An Agreeable Iberian Interlude

JakTar · August 20, 2013

This is a diary accompanying the review of the same title which can be found at -

www.cruisecritic.com/memberreviews/memberreview.cfm?EntryID=220185.

It may be of some interest to Iberian aficionados. Then again, it may not...

Pilgrims & Paella: Fred. Olsen Cruises - Black Watch (26 April 2013 - 04 May 2013)

Sailing round-trip from Southampton, the scheduled itinerary is: Lisbon - Porto (Leixoes) - Aviles - La Coruña.

The last port of call will hopefully allow for the fulfilment of a long-standing ambition - to visit the pilgrimage city of Santiago de Compostela.

Friday 26/04/2013

Well that's an unexpected bonus - the ParkAtMyHouse service includes ParkAtMyNeighbour'sHouse for no extra charge. Our host's driveway is on a quiet street a mile or two from the port. He's very pleasant and knows the drill, first taking us to the luggage drop-off then bringing us round to the terminal entrance before wishing us a good trip.

It's straight through security - and straight out again when I set off the alarm. After a wave of the wand and a grope of the goolies I'm allowed through. Boarding is severely delayed but fortunately Fred has organised a shuttle bus to the town centre with the last bus returning at five o'clock.

There's a large market around the Bargate where a local butcher is failing to drum up interest despite his microphone-amplified exhortations.

“He’s flogging a dead horse there,” says JacqTar.

In light of the recent scandal, he may well be.

The sun and the breeze give way to rain and hail. "If winter comes, can Spring be far behind?" wrote Shelley. As we seem to be in the middle of a 12-month winter the answer must be - Yes. A tree by the expansive Titanic Engineers' Memorial at the end of the QE2 Mile gives us some shelter from the downpour. All the musicians were also lost but their memorial is hidden away in an insurance building wall across the road.

We're fifteen minutes early for the last bus back but nobody else is waiting. Five o'clock comes…and goes. Five past…. Ten past…. If we don't make our own way back this could be a short cruise. We fail to find a taxi - and then thankfully our bus arrives. The driver says the last bus was so full he wasn't going to come back but decided he'd better, just in case. We'll raise a glass to him - once we're safely on board.

I take off my watch before going through security…but the alarm goes off again. Perhaps I have balls of steel? Boarding still hasn't started because -

a) There was a surprise inspection by the Maritime Cruise Authority,

b) There was an air-bridge failure, and

c) The crew gangway couldn’t be used because the tide kept pushing the ship out.

Complimentary magazines and soft drinks help pass the time until rousing cheers greet the announcement that boarding is about to start.

The Black Watch proudly displays its Scottish heritage with its striking tartan hull of vivid white horizontal bands criss-crossing equally vivid white vertical bands. Our neat and tidy outside cabin is a twin rather than a double so the beds are in an L shape which can't be pushed together. There's enough storage space for the two of us including safe drawers in the wardrobes. There's also a kettle even though the hot drinks station is open 24 hours. A note in the bathroom cabinet explains that housekeeping will supply bars of soap (liquid soap and shampoo are in dispensers), sewing kits, shower caps and other assorted items if required. Our allocated dining is late-sitting (as requested) in the Orchid Room which is an annex of the Glentanar Restaurant, the main dining room. Inserts in the Daily Times include shore excursions and notes about the enrichment programme. The latter includes a lecturer on Iberia, a lecturer on photography and an instructor in arts and crafts.

Apparently CMA inspections don't include the windows because those in the Neptune Lounge, where the lifeboat drill is about to start as we move away from the berth, are smeared with salt spray. Most passengers have already donned lifejackets. Being mustered probably explains why they're so keen.

I register my debit card with reception (credit cards attract a 2% surcharge) on the way to dinner. It's open-seating tonight so we eat in the Garden Café rather than the main restaurant. The food is beautifully laid out, very tasty and served with a complimentary bottle of Roc d’Opale - a thoughtful gesture. If only the apple pie was made with Bramleys.

The Welcome-Aboard show is an exuberant performance by the resident company and orchestra in the Neptune Lounge where those at the back like us have a restricted view of the show. At least one of the male performers has to be a graduate of the Eric Morecambe School of Dance but it all adds to the entertainment.

Question 11 of 20 - Which was the first Bond Top Ten hit? JacqTar reckons it was, Diamonds are Forever whilst I'm sure it was, Goldfinger. You live and learn - it was actually, Live and Let Die. We still score a respectable 15 with the winning team (which included a headmistress) scoring 17.

The Supper Club in the Garden Café is open between 11pm and midnight but we've only just finished dinner. The cookies are huge. I take a couple for later as there are none at the hot drinks station.

Next to the card room / library / games room is the popular Lido Lounge where we dance the night away to the excellent resident entertainers, Foreign Affair (a husband and wife duo), and pianist Glenn Monie. An enjoyable first day ends well after midnight in the deserted Braemar Lounge over tea - and cookies.

Saturday 27/04/2013

The shower has two settings - hot and boiling. I report it to Reception then go for breakfast, served in the restaurant until 10 o’clock, whilst JacqTar has a lie-in reading yesterday's papers. It’s too early to socialise so I take up the offer of a table by myself. Breakfast is a combination of extensive buffet plus menu items such as kippers. I haven't got my sea legs yet so sway and stumble to the food stations and back.

The plumber hasn't been - because I left the 'Do Not Disturb' sign on the door. Silly me. I tell JacqTar to expect an imminent visit from a muscle-bound hunk who'll take a look at her plumbing, and ask Housekeeping not to bother today because there’s nothing we need.

It’s too bumpy for the excursion manager to stand at the podium so she gives her Port Talk on Lisbon sitting down. I'm particularly interested in visiting Sintra - Glorious Eden, according to Lord Byron. Her presentation is informative both for those wanting to take the ship’s excursions and for independent travellers. The next lecture, on photography, also attracts a large audience. It's peppered with clever tips such as - try turning the camera upside down and using your thumb to operate the shutter if you have an arthritic finger.

Hygiene reminders extend to notices such as “Please use a paper towel to open the door” in the toilets, and a box of tissues is affixed to the door. The ship's efforts are very commendable although in my experience, bad hygiene is almost always the fault of passengers rather than crew.

The noonday Master's Report from Captain Age Danielsen tells us we are in the Bay of Biscay and to expect rough seas. So this is only the practise session? I think we could be crawling on all fours soon. I stagger over to the restaurant for lunch which, like breakfast, comprises an extensive buffet plus menu options. A Kaiserschmarn Station has been set up where Executive Chef Siggi Welch is chatting animatedly with the passengers whilst cooking up the traditional Austrian pancake, served with a host of accompaniments such as plum compote and toasted almonds.

Today's dance class is the waltz but I have to adjust the timing from 1-2-3, 1-2-3 to 1-2-3-stumblestutter, 1-2-3-stumblestutter. JacqTar seems pleased with my progress since our last cruise - I can now negotiate corners rather than heading off the floor, out the lounge and over the side.

The class is followed by "A Pageant of Portugal" presented by guest speaker Nicholas Ridley who enthuses about:

- Pombaline architecture (named for the Marquis who was instrumental in reconstructing Lisbon after the earthquake of 1755)

- Azulejo tiling (the classic blue-panelled decoration - Porto's São Bento Train Station should be seen for some superb examples), and

- Plaited straw plated in gold (fine jewellery that makes a fine souvenir)

as well as giving some historical perspective. It's an excellent lecture.

Somebody nearer the front please tell our esteemed excursion manager that 'avenue' in Portuguese is 'avenida' not 'avienda'! Notwithstanding other piss-pronunciations, her illustrated talk on Leixoes and Porto is again interesting, so much so that I forget to leave a few minutes early to catch afternoon tea.

Having enjoyed many games of shuffleboard last year on Cunard's Queen Victoria we check out how the Black Watch compares. Sadly, it doesn't. The less-than-smooth playing area leaves a lot to be desired and JacqTar shortens her shove distance by half, refusing to listen to my advice on how to propel a puck. She wins both games but I shall appeal to the International Shuffleboard Association for an asterisk to be recorded against the result.

After an enjoyable stroll round the promenade deck we have a cuppa in the Braemar Lounge looking out at whitecaps through salt-smeared windows. First-sitting diners are queuing outside the restaurant after the Captain’s Welcome Cocktail Party. Not all of the men are in dinner suits so my dark jacket and trousers will be fine. JacqTar thinks that some of the women shouldn’t have dressed themselves - and she's right. A combination of sleeveless dress and folds of saggy, flapping flesh works about as well as a size 18 body squeezed into a size 10 outfit and both styles are modelled this evening, sometimes by the same person. A passenger next to us watches on equally aghast, whilst his wife is getting ready for dinner.

“What attracted you to this cruise?” I ask.

“I’ve never been to Lisbon - and the weather. I have an allotment in London and haven’t planted a bloody thing this year.”

A couple of hours later it's time to meet our fellow diners who are a retired couple from Wales and a couple from Scotland. He's a gardener and she teaches blind children. Table talk, naturally enough for the first night, is about cruises, and both couples speak enthusiastically about St. Petersburg. From the wine list JacqTar chooses a Marques de Caceres Rosé Rioja at £16.95 and lets slip that it’s her birthday tomorrow. Good food, wine and conversation make for an excellent evening which continues in the show lounge with a chortle-fest by the guest comedian with silly jokes such as -

The only dance Brits like is the Conga as it combines dancing with queuing.

Sunday 28/04/2013

"There might be people who want to read this," I tell JacqTar whilst scribbling a few diary notes at the breakfast table. She shakes her head in dismay.

“Would you like to be secretary of my fan club?” I ask.

“Part-time job is it?” she replies.

My witty companion goes off to the iPad talk (what is the point of those things?) whilst I head back to the cabin hoping to catch a rerun of the port talk on La Coruña. At the moment though, Channel 11 is on a loop with Traditional British Afternoon Tea being promoted by the Bar Manager.

“This experience tends to be very popular so may I interest you to book a table by calling Observatory bar.”

If the experience is authentic as her English, I'll pass.

The Traditional Sunday Roast carving in the restaurant proves extremely popular but there's also plenty on offer for non-meat eaters. We sit and chat with another couple having declined the offer of a table to ourselves. After an enjoyable meal I ask at Reception about the gratuities and am assured they go to the cabin steward and waiter only. If that's the case I'll probably leave them as they are.

In the Neptune Lounge, after another well-presented lecture given by our aficionado of all things Iberian, there's a Social Jive dance lesson to tie in with the Rock & Roll night later in the cruise. Restricting the number of steps to just four still proves to be completely beyond many of the participants, particularly the men who have an inexplicable urge to throw in an extra step. I watch rather than participate, admiring the patience of the dance teacher. JacqTar joins me and selects the creakiest and squeakiest swivel chair to sit in.

The orchestra begins to play, the dance hosts have their first partners for the Grand Tea Dance and the floor soon fills. I manage my own version of the waltz, cha-cha and rumba which JacqTar literally takes in her stride. I even let her drag me on to the floor for a round of the Gay Gordons - but only because it’s her birthday. Waiters serve tea and finger sandwiches whilst cakes are served in the Braemar Garden. It's a fabulous display which the patissier tells us has taken two days to prepare. The dance is followed by an enjoyable recital by concert pianist Simon Weale who includes Schubert impromptus, a Chopin polonaise, a Liszt étude and five lyric pieces by Greig.

The final port talk is on Aviles - a new destination that only welcomed its first cruise ships last year. Our excursion manager's pronunciation of 'servicios' as 'servikos' proves that her linguistic skills are literally going down the pan.

"Asturias is a centre of Spanish cider-making and is reputed to cure many ills such as obesity and gastro-intestinal problems," she tells us.

… but apparently not chronic gullibility.

JacqTar is the fourth diner to be serenaded with a waiters' chorus of Happy Birthday after which she receives the traditional cream cake for dessert. There's also a gift from our dining friends of chocolates in a champagne bottle. Gosh it's hard work trying to get the top off. After several minutes of sweat-inducing exertions we manage to lever and saw off the top of the bottle with a knife and fork bent out of shape. What a waste of effort. We can't shake out the chocolates because the bottle neck isn't wide enough. Let's have a closer look. Ah, there's a tiny label on the base which say, "Unscrew here".

Evening Showtime is with reputedly "Award Winning International Illusionists". They struggle to create the illusion that the act has much entertainment value so we leave early and head up to the Lido Lounge and the 70’s Night Cabaret where I reckon most of the punters probably are. The birthday girl joins in with dancing round imaginary handbags and singing along to tracks such as, It's Raining Men, I Will Survive and others that make men cringe, which is why I prefer to hide in a corner.

Don’t clocks go forward tonight or are we staying on ship's time whilst in Portugal?

Monday 29/04/2013

Lisbon, the only European capital on the Atlantic coast, is an attractive city with wonderful architecture and a distinguished history in culture and commerce whose origins date back to Roman times. In the time of Julius Caesar it was known as Felicitas Julia where it became a centre of trade with outlying provinces such as Britannia. Recent archaeological excavations have shown that this trade extended as far north as Cumbria and the ancient Roman settlement of Felicitas Kendal.

Our berth is in a much more central location than last year when we seemed to be half way to Belem. After a few hundred yards and no sign of a train station a Gray Line Tours driver puts us right - we should have turned left. We catch a bus to Praça Rossio and cross over to the station where there are trains to Sintra every 15 minutes, running until 1am.

The fairy-tale castle that is the town hall just down the road from the station lies a few minutes' walk from the centre of Sintra. There's a sculpture park along the Volta do Duche and on the opposite side of the road is the Fonte Mourisca where no more than 5 litres of water should be taken per person per visit. There are views of the Palácio Nationale to our right (the only surviving royal palace from the Middle Ages and a museum since 1940) and the hilltop ruins of the medieval Islamic outpost of the Castelo dos Mouros above to our left.

It's a joy to explore the town and its bustling, colourful alleyways (including wonderfully decorated tiles), encountering perhaps the country's longest street name - Rua Maria Eugénia Reis Ferreira Navarro (Grande Benemerita Social). JacqTar wants to try on a patterned woollen cardigan being modelled by a dummy outside a clothing store. It's the only one in stock and the assistant only succeeds in getting it off the dummy by breaking both its arms. Curiously, the dummy is the only one who manages to keep a straight face.

The tourist office tells us that bus 435 will take us to the Palácio de Monserrate. The number 434, a large coach to Palácio Nacional da Pena, turns up every few minutes but there's no sign of a 435. Only at the third time of asking is it explained that the 435 is a small white Villa Express mini-bus. Fortunately we don't have long to wait and twenty minutes later we arrive at the former summer residence of Francis Cook, 1st Viscount of Monserrate. It's still a beautiful day, ideal for exploring the botanical gardens leading to Beckford's Waterfall and themed gardens in the valley below. A scented path bordered by flora-trailing pergolas leads to the palatial villa. Gothic arches, marble columns and Indian alabaster panels abound and one imagines the ongoing restoration will require a great deal of time and money.

We walk back to the ship through the Pombaline Baixa, the elegant lower town rebuilt after the 1755 Lisbon earthquake. Unfortunately for new visitors to the city, part of the vast riverside Praça do Comercio is covered in scaffolding and tarpaulin. JacqTar rushes off for her six o'clock pedicure whilst I linger a while to finish off the flask of tea, and the huge ship's cookie I’ve been eating for last three days.

Sitting across from me in the Garden Café are a group of rough looking pirates and other assorted sea-dogs who bear a vague resemblance to the dance hosts. Arrr! It be the Nautical Night tonight. The captain must be agonising over what to wear. He tells us to expect rough seas, as we move away down the Tagus. The weather is still fine if a little cool as we sail under the 25th April Bridge four days late, and past the Monument to the Discoveries and Belem Tower. The windows are still dirty with salt spray.

Keeping with tonight's theme, many passengers are, like me, in navy and white stripes. JacqTar has adopted the Smart / Casual alternative and she's probably just about in the majority. The featured entertainment in the Neptune Lounge between the two dinner sittings is "Yo Ho Ho and a Bottle of Fun". Sadly, the bottle is empty.

Dinner is an enjoyable feast of shared experiences. Our Welsh friends enjoyed their shore excursion to Lisbon and Estoril whilst our Scottish friends did their own thing in Lisbon where they discovered it was National Guard open day. The headquarters in Carmo near the top of the Santa Justa elevator was a focal point of the 1975 Carnation Revolution, with the radio broadcast of Portugal's entry for the Eurovison Song contest being the signal to kick things off.

JacqTar is aghast at how much salt the large woman at the neighbouring table puts on her food - and we're aghast at her reaction. She lectures us on the evil seasoning and for the rest of the evening we engage in ever more extravagant ruses to distract her attention when adding a little to our plates. Our Scottish friend tells us he’s had a kidney transplant from a woman donor and ever since, he's been unable to park a car properly.

The entertaining after-dinner musical show is followed by music and dancing up in the Lido although eventually the ship's wobbling proves too much. We join others out on deck to watch a spectacular impromptu display - an enormous water fountain from the pool one deck below shooting high above us as the ship crashes through the waves.

Tuesday 30/04/2013

Porto is a historic city recognised by UNESCO as a world heritage site. Indeed its Latin name, Portus Cale, is thought to be the origin of the word “Portugal”. Porto is famous for the production of fortified wine and across the river from the Ribeira, the oldest part of the city, lie the port warehouses where tastings and tours are offered at the great houses such as Sandeman, Offley, Graham’s and Taylor’s. Product consistency at the latter two is however a notoriously hit-and-miss affair and quality controllers are often to be seen wandering around, shaking their heads and muttering “Do I not like that...?”

The tourist desk at the port advises us to take the municipal bus into Porto but whilst we wait, a city sightseeing Blue Bus turns up. The on-board guide explains that they come out to Leixos when a cruise ship is in town and when we return we should ask the driver to bring us back to the ship.

From the port gates where fishwives chat we drive along the scenic coast past the bewildering She Changes sculpture - a giant fishing net which, should it be filled with rotted fish, would be an accurate representation of how much it stinks. We continue past castles and forts such as the Castelo do Queijo and the Castelo de Sao Joao da Foz, along the banks of the Douro to the Ribeira and across the iconic Ponte Luis 1, the longest iron-arch bridge in the world when it was built.

Beyond the House of Sandeman up a hilly street is the house of Offley and JacqTar is amazed I've never heard the name. A guided tour through cellars of huge casks and barrels tells the history of the house founded by William Offley in 1737 but brought to prominence by Joseph James Forrester whose work was rewarded in 1855 by the Portuguese king, D. Fernando, with the title Baron of Forrester.

Traditional boats laden with barrels line the river bank up to three abreast. Across the bridge in Ribeira is a plaque commemorating the tragedy of the Ponte dos Barcas which "happened on 29th March 1809 when the bridge collapsed under the weight of people fleeing from the French troops".

After a quick chat with our Scottish friends who are enjoying a drink at Brodies, one of the many, busy waterfront bars, we continue up steep alleyways past the street where Henry the Navigator was born, up to the Palaçio da Bolsa (Stock Exchange Palace) in front of which stands an impressive monument to Porto's most famous son. A little further up is São Bento train station with its main hall fabulously decorated with blue-tiled panels depicting episodes in Portuguese history. In a corner of the hall is a currency exchange office which offers its customers a fistful of sweets with every transaction.

The centrepiece of the nearby Praça da Liberdade is a statue of King Peter IV who declared Brazil's independence from Portugal and became its first emperor as King Peter I. Our Scottish friends are waiting for a Blue Bus back to the ship but we'll stay a while longer because JacqTar wants to buy bobby sox for the Rock & Roll night. She finds sock heaven on the main shopping street of Santa Catarina and I wait outside on the corner with Rua Formosa listening to the blind accordionist. His singing and playing is very moving and I put a few coins in the hat.

After a little diversion into the Bolháo market we wait at a tourist bus stop near the town hall …. and wait …. and wait. First a yellow tour bus arrives, then a red bus, then another red bus. Can he take us back to the port? I think not. It's getting late and we're in danger of literally missing the boat. A Blue Bus finally arrives and after ringing in, the driver confirms he’ll take us all the way back to the ship even though we're the only passengers. He tells us we'll be back in good time - just as the rush-hour traffic on the freeway slows to a crawl. Eventually it starts to flow again - and we even arrive back in time to enjoy afternoon tea.

The captain gives us a pre-departure update (strong winds and a westerly swell) and tells us that we shall have a time change tomorrow - the clocks will go forward one hour. So Portugal and the UK are in the same time zone? A few minutes later the engines rattle into life and we head out into the Atlantic.

At dinner we hear that some passengers have been complaining about how rough it’s been although we're all managing. We've all had a good day and swap tales over another fine meal. Less fine is the showtime performance where both our comedy and magic performers fail to entertain.

Wednesday 01/05/2013

La Coruna in the autonomy of Galicia is an ancient port in Spain’s northwestern corner at the crossroads of the Bay of Biscay and the Atlantic Ocean. Its most famous monument is the Tower of Hercules, reputedly the oldest Roman lighthouse still in use today. How the tower acquired its name is the subject of continuing debate. One story tells that the tower marks the spot where the mythological hero slew a tyrannical giant after an epic struggle, whilst others believe it is named for the Lockheed C130 aircraft used to fly in the foreign construction workers.

The crew of Holland America's Ryndam berthed next to us bow-to-bow (so close they could almost kiss) are busy re-painting her navy blue hull. I notice their windows look rather clean. Tourist information in the port advises that there’s no 10 o’clock train for Santiago de Compostela (despite what I copied down from the RENFE website) and suggest we catch the 11 o'clock bus instead which will get us to Santiago an hour later. We take a taxi to the station a couple of miles away, just in case. It's a good call because the 10 o'clock train for Ourense departing in a few minutes stops at Santiago de Compostela.

The comfortable trip takes less than half an hour and it's only a short walk up to the historic centre and the Praza do Obradoiro, the end of the St. James Way. There are glorious buildings all around the immense square: the cathedral that dates from 1075, the archbishop's palace dating from a century later, the world's oldest hostelry and now the parador Hostal dos Reis Católicos which is a mere 500 years old, and the College of San Jerome - a former school for poor students built in the 17th century. Before entering the cathedral we benefit from a different kind of indulgence - Cola Cao and almond cake in the former pilgrim's refectory that is now part of the beautiful parador. Some of our fellow passengers on a shore excursion are grumbling about standing around outside in the cold and damp, waiting for their tour guide who seems to have disappeared.

A lone nun sings as the "Botafumeiro", the huge incense burner, is swung from the cathedral ceiling by a team of "tiraboleiros" hauling on ropes. Legend has it that Catherine of Aragon, on her way to marry Henry VIII, was witness to a famous accident when the censer slipped its rope and flew out the window into the square below. Had that happened today it would have fallen into the midst of a passionate May Day demonstration, for Galician independence and against the government's austerity measures. Around the corner a living link stretching back to the pilgrims' refectories is provided by the city's only soup kitchen, the Cocina Economica, a centuries-old institution run by the Sisters of Charity and volunteers.

Posters of prominent Gallegan Independentistas currently detained at King Carlos' pleasure adorn street walls but their stories are told in Galician rather than Spanish so I understand very little. We avoid marching vocal demonstrators by sheltering in an artisan chocolate shop in Praza do Toural where some of the offerings prove irresistible.

The No. 5 bus opposite the station back in La Coruña takes us to the Tower of Hercules. We chat with American passengers from the Ryndam for whom this is the last stop before returning to Dover. It's grey and cool with a strong wind whipping in off the sea as we walk up to the sculptural space and the ramp leading to the tower. Guarding the ramp is a statue of Breogán, the mythical Galician king who, legend tells, espied one winter's eve a solitary, misty land far in the distance from atop the tower he had built as a dwelling and lookout point. Thus it was that he set sail for the Emerald Isle - where the locals killed him. The tower is the oldest in the world, dating from about 20 B.C. according to the United States Lighthouse Society.

Sadly, it's time to head back to the ship, through the attractive historic quarter and along the promenade. The weather improves and grey skies give way to glorious sunshine as we sail past the San Anton castle fortress. After disembarking the pilot onto his bobbing boat, the captain gives us an update, confirming it was very rough last night - 30 knots wind speed. The wind speed now is only 8-10 knots and it's 140 nautical miles or 161 statute miles to Aviles. We are travelling at 11 knots to be at the pilot station at 7 o’clock. Seas will be moderate to rough because we still have a north-easterly swell.

Tonight is Rock & Roll night (as it has been most nights) and JacqTar looks the part in her fifties outfit whilst I'm more eighties in jeans and bandana. There's good music and dancing in the Neptune Lounge until it's time for dinner.

"Where’s the one place in the world that you'd like to visit, or re-visit?" ask JacqTar.

The Scottish votes are for St. Kilda and the Taj Mahal, the Welsh votes go to the North Pole and Canada, JacqTar votes for Guadaloupe in Spain and my vote is a second for St. Kilda which I’ve glimpsed from Benbecula but yet to visit. Our Scottish friends encountered an extremely irate passenger in the games room this morning, ranting about someone completing "his" jigsaw which he'd deliberately left until this morning to complete. JacqTar blushes as well she might - I tell her she should have left the last piece.

She's itching to have a go at the prize karaoke and wants to sing a duet. With me?! No chance. My singing even makes me cringe. Dancing the Gay Gordons is about as far as I'm willing to embarrass myself. The contestants are not ear-splittingly bad and the MC is a jolly, rotund girl who adds to the party atmosphere but it's a relief when the real musicians return for the rest of the evening.

Thursday 02/05/2013

Aviles, in the principality of Asturias in Northern Spain, was a thriving port as far back as the 12th century and the historic quarter today houses many gems of civil and religious architecture. Famous sons include Pedro Menéndez de Avilés (his surname was probably no more than fortuitous coincidence), a soldier in the army of Philip II. In 1565 he founded what is now the oldest, continuously occupied, European-established settlement in the continental United States, the city of St. Augustine in Florida... he was on a family holiday to Disneyworld when his tour operator collapsed.

JacqTar dunks ginger nuts in her morning coffee and tells me about her chat with the dance teachers last night. This is their first cruise as teachers and they're enjoying it very much although it's hard work - they have to be on duty until 1am even if the lounge is empty.

“Testing of the watertight doors has now been completed,” is announced over the PA system. Somewhere in the bowels of the ship I imagine there is an unconscious crew member clutching a short straw.

We're docked next to the red, yellow and white, curvy Niemeyer Cultural Centre which was only inaugurated two years ago. With map in hand (from the tourist information marquee), and illegal preposition at the start of the sentence (it makes a change from having them at the end of sentences), we set off along the riverwalk towards the imaginatively named "Aviles" sculpture comprising three giant metal rust-coloured cones set at various inclinations. It is part of the Ruta del Acero but fails to inspire us to check out other metallic modern art along the route.

The small Parque del Muelle across the road has flora and fountains, cannons and statues, and two enormously-bottomed women taking a lunchtime waddle. They embody La Monstrua, the iconic city statue in the adjacent former fishing district of Sabugo on the street named for another famous son - the 17th century court painter Juan Carreño de Miranda. The statue is based on his famous painting of the chronically obese Eugenia Martinez Vallejo whose deformity warranted her to join other afflicted children forming the small court surrounding the Spanish royal children at the court of Charles II.

On the edge of the historic quarter on Plaza de la Merced is the church of St. Thomas of Canterbury where its impressive organ and newly-installed (from 2010) stained-glass windows are open for viewing, although I fail to learn what connection there might be between Aviles and Canterbury.

A little further along is the 17th century Palacio de Camposagrado, fortified on one side against sea-borne marauders (the city lies on land reclaimed from the sea). Opposite the palace entrance in the centre of the plaza is a statue of Miranda seated and sketching, perhaps the Black Watch which can be glimpsed between the buildings beyond the adjacent Iglesia de los Padres Franciscanos.

We settle ourselves at an outside table exposed to the light breeze and strong sun at a bar opposite the town hall in the Plaza de España, the centre of the historic quarter. Over wine and tortilla we chat with a couple at the next table with whom we had breakfast a couple of days ago. One of their friends comes over and tells of an excellent experience he's just had at a nearby bar sampling the local cider served in the traditional way.

"Turn right and it’s just along the street on the left. You can’t miss it. There's a sign that says - Bodega."

The scallop shell stone set in a wall above the street paved in terracotta, blue and gold indicates that the street is part of the Camino de Santiago. It doesn't look like the bar we're looking for but we pop into the Bodega La Calleja, just beyond the gates to the Parque de Ferrera, the largest of the public parks in Aviles. A bottle of cider with tapas of cheese and chorizo costs about 2 Euros! It isn't served in the traditional way but with a battery-operated barrel-shaped pump (hand-crafted in China) which clamps over the bottle and aerates the cider.

Ah, this looks like it - La Bodega de Rivero, a little further down the street. The delightful Sara holds the bottle high above her head and expertly pours well-aerated glasses of delicious Asturian nectar - served with tapas of tortilla chunks. Afterwards our drinking buddies head back to the ship whilst we take a stroll in the lovely park with its lake and woodland.

Tugs have to be used to pull us away from the dock as there isn't enough water depth to start the engines. The captain smiles as a giant wooden hand is brought out onto the bridge wing to wave goodbye to the locals who are waving to us from plaza of the Niemeyer Centre.

We dance a little at the Captain's Farewell Cocktail Party before heading off to dinner. Did we see the fountain of faces? I knew we'd forgotten something - La Fuente de los Caños de San Francisco is perhaps the city's most celebrated emblem and we virtually passed by it on our way back from the park. We'll just have to come back for another visit. Another excellent dinner concludes with the traditional Baked Alaska parade and rousing cheers for the tireless galley staff.

The Black Watch Crew Show is a lot of fun. Some of the performances are naff but that's to be expected. The numbers include a Filipino coconut shell dance, Indonesian and Thai dances, ballads from wannabe X-Factor contestants and a wacky Village People tribute from the Lower Deck Department who probably need to get out more.

The Daily Times tells us that "Executive Chef Siggi Welch and his team of very talented chefs have prepared an awesome display of food art and carvings" for the Grand Gala Buffet. "Awesome" is an understatement. All we can take from the amazing display, having only finished dinner an hour ago, is lots of photos.

Friday 03/05/2013

Today is a sea-day so there are lots of activities all round the ship including a photography lecture, a bridge class, a quiz, a cooking demonstration…and dolphin racing.

We're spectators rather than participants at the Square Tango lesson because we're a few minutes late and don't want to disturb the class. The lesson concludes with the Mayfair Quickstep which isn't taught but which a lot of passengers seem to know. I wish we did - it looks a lot of fun danced to Irish music.

After an interesting talk entitled "The Heart of Spain" from our Iberian enthusiast we join our Welsh friends in The Courtyard for afternoon tea where JacqTar's musical sensibilities are offended by the seemingly not-quite-in-tune classical trio. There's an Afternoon Quiz in the Lido Lounge where a smaller afternoon tea is on offer just by the entrance. We score 16 out of 20, but the winning team had four people so our points should count double!

The dance teachers are enjoying a drink in the Pipers' Bar. I have to ask them how to dance on 2. Start with step 1 to the right for the rumba and steps 4-and-1 to the right for the cha-cha. I try their suggestion out at the pre-dinner dancing but am thwarted by the choice of music which is positively funereal. I know Fred. Olsen tends to cater for senior travellers but that's a bit unsubtle.

Sadly, it's time for our last dinner of the cruise where, unusually, none of the Appetisers or Soups is vegetarian. We thank our waiters but don't give a tip as we are paying the daily gratuity which hopefully will be shared out as promised. They weren't hanging around expectantly or generally behaving like waiters do at the end of a cruise so I hope they're comfortable with that.

The Farewell Showtime is very disappointing - neither the comedy nor the magic manage to animate us. We finish packing, put out our cases then spend the rest of the evening up in the Lido lounge chatting with friends, dance hosts and entertainers, all of whom have helped to make the cruise such a wonderful experience.

Saturday 04/05/2013

Disembarkation is a relatively relaxed affair and the waiters at breakfast even tell me not to rush although they must want to finish as soon as possible. The dance hosts are staying on board for the upcoming mini-cruise. I wish we were too…

Other diaries:

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http://cruiseforums.cruisecritic.com/showthread.php?t=1792071

http://cruiseforums.cruisecritic.com/showthread.php?t=1669814

http://cruiseforums.cruisecritic.com/showthread.php?t=1584868