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Monday April 25th, Cadiz, Spain
Often when traveling, the best experiences come when you least expect them. Cadiz (pronounced (Cah'-deeth) was one of those. We had not expected much, and it did help that the sun shown, there was a slight breeze, and the temperature was around 70 degrees. Perfect.
Two local tourist agents came aboard ship to give us maps and advice. We've never been to a city that was better organized. The map was as clear as that for the London underground, and it had four, color-coded walking tours including the Medieval District, Castles and Bastions, and shopping. Much to our surprise, we discovered that once we were on the streets, there were color-coded lines on the sidewalks to follow, like the Freedom Trail in Boston.
We circled the city counter-clockwise beginning with a stroll along an ancient wall that once defended it from an attack from the sea. It included a small but beautiful park with some ancient trees that were easily twenty feet in diameter.
A short detour inland took us along narrow cobble-stoned streets into interesting squares, including one named Plaza de San Francisco. It had a small church and a couple of cafes, but that was not enough to leave our hearts in. Another place had a more beautiful church, and after seeing even more later in the day, we didn't even bother to photograph the cathedral when we came to it.
There were more gardens, though, including a most impressive one that had topiary,
a fanciful waterfall,
a fanciful waterfall, 
and a fountain with a couple of kids under an umbrella.
Eventually, we found ourselves in a market area that included stalls for meats, vegetables, pastries, leather goods, and lots of other things.
We returned to the ship for lunch and to pick up our travel computer, and in the afternoon, we sat in one of three parks where the city provides free wi-fi. There we updated our blog, answered emails, and watched people going by. When it came time to return to the ship, we didn't want to leave.
That evening, we learned that our waiter, Irwin, would be leaving the next day to fly home to join his wife, who is in the hospital with their first child. We will miss his nightly greetings of “Sir Bob” and “Sir Steward.”
Tuesday, April 26th, Malaga and a day-trip to the Alhambra.
The Alhambra is perhaps Spain's most famous World Heritage Site (along with the City of Toledo). Because it was almost two hours from our port, Malaga (pronounced (MAH-lah-gah), we opted to take a tour. Since ship-organized tours are usually overcrowded and always over-priced, we opted for one that Stew found on line (Top Ten Tours). It too was expensive, but it promised no more than ten to eighteen people per group.
Just after 8:00 am, our guide Debbie along with our driver Pepe (honest to God!) met us and our twelve fellow travelers, and all the way, she babbled on about the countryside and herself. She's from Birmingham, England, but has lived for twenty years in Spain. Some roadsigns shaped like bulls used to be owned by a liquor company but are now nationalized, and personally, Debbie does not approve of bull fighting. Oh, and great matadors make as much money as great football (soccer) players.
We beat the ship's tour buses to the Alhambra, where we met our licensed tour guide, Marie Something that begins with a rolled R. She handed out timed-entry tickets and battery-powered ear phones that worked once in awhile. Then she herded us through the first of several gates where ticket takers registered our entry by scanning our bar codes.
The Alhambra covers a large area on top of a hill. (This is a view from a balcony of the Alhambra.) Built over many centuries, it reflects many ages, styles, and cultures, most predominantly the Moors, and its gardens and buildings are designed to please all the senses. We noted in particular the scent of flowers including a wall of yellow Lady Banks roses (like those at home that we call 'Tombstone Roses') and everywhere, inside and out, there were fountains, reflecting pools, and babbling sluices. Water, it seems, was not only the source of life, but also of welcome. Sadly, many fountains were dry, and the most famous one, which had twelve marble lions spouting water toward a center fountain, was closed for repair. Only the restored lions were on display in a special room. (No photos, please.)
Neatly trimmed myrtle or boxwood hedges bordered the many individual gardens, and spikes of towering cypress lined the walkways. Some areas had shady arbors, and others had covered gates carved out of green banks of cypress leading to new vistas. Pansies and early roses were in bloom.The palaces had intricate Arabic decorations on their walls, arches, pillars, and ceilings. Marie said something about their relation to mathematics, the science that comes closest to divine perfection (as you know, Joe), but it was hard to catch what she said. No decorations were representational, since that would be sacrilegious.
Once, when waiting in a crush of tour groups for our next timed-entry, Marie explained that in order for her to be licensed as a guide, she had had to be a university graduate and then pass a series of special examinations in history, horticulture (to identify plants that tourists might point at), and site-specific information. She then expressed her disgust at ship-organized tour guides who had little or no training, but led huge busloads of unquestioning people.
On the long bus ride back to the ship, we overheard fellow passengers discuss our shared cultural experiences.
“Enjoy the trip?”
“Wonderful.”
“Just amazing.”
“Never knew such a place existed.”
“Nice they included so many rest stops.”
“Have a coffee at one cafe; get rid of it at the next cafe. Recycle!”
(Laughter)
When a wife of a couple of fellow travelers asked Bob, “Wasn't that wonderful?” Bob hesitated, then bravely replied with a shrug,
“I found it rather underwhelming.”
“I agree,” said the man.
“Really?” said the woman.
We know that the Brucatos, our savvy, world-traveling neighbors up the street, loved their visit to the Alhambra, but typically, they went on their own, spent two nights in town, and probably bribed the gatekeepers to let them slip in well ahead of the crowds. That would have made all the difference.
Wednesday, April 27, at sea.
Ian, or terminally chirpy cruise director, urged us not to spend the day packing. It is packed with fun activities. At a disembarkation presentation in the morning, we were told there would be time later to pack. Just push all the dirty laundry in your bag, and if it won't fit, get your Indonesian room steward to get inside and help pull it things in.
“Just don't forget to let him back out. I accidentily have two at home and they're fantastic!”
At breakfast, we ran into Irwin (our dining room evening steward). He was unable to fly home from Malaga, because he had to get a Spanish visa, available only in Barcelona. His wife has not delivered their baby yet, but she does have family with her.
Holland America is arranging his flight to Indonesia, but it will withhold all of his pay ($50/month, plus tips) and all of his share of all those tips collected from all of the passengers during our 16-day trip. He'll even owe the company another one or two thousand, because he had to break his contract to be with his wife.
His annual salary depends almost entirely on his share of tips and ranges from $18,000 to $24,000 per year, but that is four times what he could earn at home. Holland America requires a ten-month contract, but Disney offers some for six months. Although he has been with HAL since 2004, he may switch to Disney in order to see his family more often.
Somehow, we feel guilty having anything to do with Carnival, the corporation that owns HAL and even bought the Cunard Line a few years ago. By registering their ships in foreign countries, they can employ slave labor, but if passengers did not buy tickets and agree to pay $11/day/person for staff, Irwin and others would have no jobs. So what do you do besides give your wait-staff side tips?
Bob wondered whether or not Irwin could have invented his story to encourage larger tips. Neither of us think so, but the world we live in has taught us to be aware of scams. If Irwin's is one of them, he would almost deserve his extra tip for being such a good actor.
At dinner, we bade farewell to Barbro and Gören and to Ingegärd and Gun. After dinner, we went up to the Silk Den watching a red sun set for about an hour hoping to say goodbye Ron and Paul, and to Robin and Cesar, but none of them showed up. We've exchanged email addresses and everyone has the address of this web site. Will we ever see or hear from any of them again, or will they just be “shipboard romances”?
