Malaga, a pleasant surprise

Our final day on the ship (weep!) and of course check-out of the cabin meant we had to be up and out earlier than we had been on any of the previous mornings. After a rather turbulent night (or so we thought; when sleeping, sounds of luggage trundling along the service corridor do become much more dramatic... turns out we weren't sinking after all), we managed to drag ourselves up and out for one final breakfast on deck.

While most guests were already disembarking for home in the early morning, we were fortunate enough to have until late afternoon which gave us the chance to have another go at Malaga and to enjoy the perks of life at sea for a few final hours.

On our first attempt at heading out we encountered three flights-worth of passengers leaving the ship, so retreated to the promenade deck where we could keep an eye on their movements. When my parents wandered past (not all the way past before stopping to have a conversation across the port), we decided it must be safe to have another go. Our second attempt was far more successful, and for the first time all week, the tower we headed towards was not too far out of reach at all! Although we got caught up in yet another procession of some sort (as I write this, I wonder whether I actually mentioned the procession in Cadiz with the pointed hats?), we managed successfully to wend our way through the crowds, narrowly missing horses doing their business and street sellers offering toy drums, in search of a road sign (as had become our custom) to lead us to the cathedral.

As was also apparently becoming our custom, we managed to approach from the rear, this time to find a much more impressive interior than we were greeted with in Cadiz, with gold embellishments, ceilings that met the sky, and gory paintings galore.

Once out of the cathedral, we headed for the ruins we had seen from aboard ship. Unfortunately today we had not beaten the crowds, and we were not sure that at this stage (having received our 'onboard account' bills) we were willing or able to spend any more holiday money, so instead we settled in a sunny spot on the steps of the small ampitheatre that stood just outside the entrance. The sun moved in no time, so we decided it was time to do a general swoop of the area before retreating.

We found squares, pretty placquards and an abundance of cycle tours and came to the conclusion that Malaga would be quite fun for a night out as there appeared to be many a wine bar, and jazz advertised too!

It was with great sadness that we waved goodbye to Spain and headed back to the ship. Of course on our return we could not help but be very distracted by the sea, so allowed ourselves a short paddle before deciding it really was time to go (before our onboard account was not active, not before our flight, don't be silly!)...

A champagne and Margarita toast in our favourite window seat seemed an excellent way to end what had truly been the most spectacular, tasty, beautiful, surreal, fun, relaxing, idyllic (had to drop that one in there, Lorna) week.

Until next time, cruising!

Cadiz, Spain

Following on from the ‘left guests’ debacle in Casablanca, we did wonder whether we’d be late arriving back into Spain. However, our 10am arrival was as it should have been, so breakfast on the deck was accompanied by the view of a fellow Thomson ship in port (this one enormous and German; we looked a little pathetic to say the least). As we had eight hours in port, and weather in the mornings had failed us in the first few ports, we had decided to give ourselves a well-deserved lie-in (in hindsight, it seems we had quite a few ‘lie-ins’), with a view to heading out late morning/early afternoon (Cadiz was small, we were sure we weren’t going to miss much).

It was all very civilised. At about midday, we set off on the free shuttle bus from the ship to the port terminal... which took less than two minutes. Having walked for forty out of port in Casablanca, we were more than a little dumbstruck to say the least!

From the sun deck over breakfast, we had a-spied a cathedral, so as was becoming the habit, we followed the tower and headed off for an explore. This tower was located in no time at all, and in true British fashion we then joined the queue wending its way from the doors to have a look inside. However, once we had managed a sneaky peek through the door, we decided that the exterior was as good as it got so made a hasty escape and went instead to find postcards (that point in the holiday when you suddenly realise you haven’t sent any, so have a sudden desperate need for them).

Instead, we found ourselves t the bottom of a street that looked like it would lead us to a sea front, so we were drawn by the promise of a paddle. While the lampposts (and dare I say the reek of urine?) may have been reminiscent of Cromer, the colour of the sea, the bronzed bodies and unusual shells reminded us that we were in fact in Spain. Quick to take off our shoes, we rushed along the sand to dip our toes in the clear water... fresh!

Sand batted from our feet with scarves (they’re just so multi-functional), we went back the way we had come to have another go at a postcard search, and to perhaps make a stop for lunch while we were at it. Of course when in Spain, real Tapas is the order of the day (and Sangria, which was amazing, by the way!), so we sat ourselves outside a little café, where orange trees grew and nobody understood anybody (or maybe it was just us, but it all seemed a little... relaxed?). Sangria we managed to order no problem at all, then we made our tapas order and were later confronted with our order which can only be described as being for an excessive amount of food.

Having made an excellent attempt at a crazy amount of food, we were finally able to heave ourselves up in order to walk off the tapas babies we had gained. We found that Cadiz seems to be in some sort of horse-shoe, as we stumbled upon the ‘other side’ of the sea which was very beautiful; lots of garden, pretty benches and fish just below the surface of exceptionally clear water! From the sea, we wound our way back towards the main square as we were reminded of our postcard mission. Here we encountered my parents (even somewhere so small, bumping into familiar faces when on holiday is a very surreal experience) so stopped to exchange pleasantries and to take postcard shop recommendations before going on our merry way.

Having finally discovered a little shop with pretty postcards, we travelled back on the shuttle bus (a little embarrassed to admit that actually, but when one has been wandering all day... all afternoon?) for tasty dinner delights and the Baked Alaska Parade:

Starter – tuna & caviar

Soup – asparagus

Main – lamb shank

Dessert – chocolate walnut coffee cake & mystery sweet sugary things

After dinner was the usual cards accompanied by the Boros Duo and another glorious sunset for which we again risked our lives out on the slippery, blustery decks! Moonlight across the black water followed the sunset – which we witnessed from behind a curtain in our window seat whilst waiting for the Crew Talent Show (I’m not entirely sure whether other guests were impressed by our seating arrangement, but I was pretty content). You know you’re a seasoned cruiser when you’ve seen the same talents from the same crew members before. The belly-dancing barman was a new and welcome addition though... 

Today I climbed a hill

Today I climbed a hill. It’s a hill I’ve been wanting to climb(/drive to) since I moved to the city in 2009, and as my time in Norwich comes to an end, I’ve been attempting to tick off a few spots!

Throughout the year, I’m constantly in a slight predicament. I believe that the reason us Brits talk so much about the weather is because in our country, it’s actually really interesting! I love the seasons; and although I may moan about each one a little when it’s around, there’s certain things about Spring, Summer, Autumn, and actually probably mostly Winter, that I just can’t get enough of. As I began to write in Winter, I’m pretty sure I’ve already hinted at some of my cold weather loves (did somebody say CHRISTMAS and snuggly jumpers?). But finally the season of sunshine is upon us, and I don’t think I’m ever happier than when the sun is beating down on me and I’m lying outside without a care in the world.

Having been spoilt with ridiculously long summers for the past six years, I am very aware that this is my last one of such excessive length for the foreseeable future, so every bit of it is being made the most of! The main aim for the summer, as I’m sure I suggested when writing about the Gorillas, is to embrace my inner Norwich tourist and to explore some of the lesser known (to me) parts of the city. I have, of course, also been making frequent visits to my favourite parts and absolutely intend to continue to do so until someone finally drags me away...

The tourism began with a closer look inside the The Cathedral of St John The Baptist on Earlham Road. A massively impressive building which I have walked past at least every week if not every day on occasion, I had not ever taken a proper opportunity to look inside. I can safely say that the pews are highly uncomfortable, and that lots of ceiling gazing once occurred at a concert, but wandering around was much more pleasant. As Catholic Cathedrals go, it is not too expensive and covered in gold, but instead boasts bold and relatively modern architecture in the grand scheme of things (its building completed in 1910), and is just really very big! No matter where in the world, I like to step into churches and cathedrals – just another 30 to go in Norwich!

In the same day, we also stumbled upon Cow Tower whilst on the Gorilla Trail. Although not nearly as impressive, it made for a pretty picture or two, and I’m glad to have seen it having had it allude me for four years.

The beach of a Monday evening should happen every Monday evening was the decision made after a trip last week! I’m a little bit of a North-Norfolk-coast-snob, but I may have been persuaded that it’s not all bad in this direction after a trip to Winterton (where I had never ventured before) for an evening wander and some fish and chips. I say that I am never happier than when the sun is beating down on me and I’m lying outside without a care in the world, but actually, put me on a beach and it doesn’t matter what the weather! On this occasion we were actually very lucky, as even the sea was a highly acceptable temperature for a paddle – oh I do LOVE to be beside the seaside.

A day spent on Cromer beach yesterday, and I admit the hill (part of Mousehold Heath by the prison on Britannia Road) was a little exhausting as we were battered by winds whilst waiting for the sun to appear for the perfect picture. 

But I could happily sit and gaze at the view of the Norwich ‘skyline’ for a really, really long time.

P.S I know that most seem to go to Mousehold Heath with visions of the ‘romantic’ powers of a view leading to a spot of canoodling, but I’d recommend going with romantic intentions or otherwise! (The ‘awkward-situation-making’ powers, as loud conversation and your camera shutter snapping the view result in teenagers resembling meerkats in their startled state, are also quite the highlight)!

Festival festivities

Festival season is finally upon me and so far has been thoroughly enjoyable! This weekend marked the end of the Norfolk & Norwich Festival, and although I haven’t made it to as many events this year as I sometimes do, I’ve really enjoyed those I have made it to, and have loved the buzz about the city for the past two weeks!

On the first night I headed to the Cathedral Close for the opening performance of Réve D’Herbert by Compagnie des Quidams. Each year the opening night involves a walking performance of dramatics, art, light, and music. In the past I have walked the highstreet following gigantic, robotic, pyrotechnic wolves, and enormous dinosaurs flying above my head. I admit that this year was initially less spectacular, although it did culminate in something quite mesmerising indeed! At first we stood for a long time watching tall, white figures with scarily painted faces wandering around between the crowds. Suddenly however, they stopped, forcing a circle to form around each one, and gradually whirled around on the spot, inflating and finally lighting up. Their giant inflatable heads then stuck out far above the crowds, lighting the audience around each one like beacons around the close which by this point had become very dark and ever so slightly eerie. Off they wandered again, this time less carefully, and I found myself ducking and diving to avoid giant, inflatable behinds! Still ever so slightly bored, it wasn’t until the end of the performance, which was further into the close, that I was truly hypnotised by floating orbs which lit the night sky, as large white balloons floated around the audience. As always, it was pretty magical and certainly very surreal; quite the experience.

On the fourth night, I saw Woodkid at the Theatre Royal. Having been to uncountable musical performances of a vastly varying nature, I often find it very difficult to answer the dreaded question ‘what’s the best gig you’ve ever been to?’ Nevertheless, I emerged from Woodkid’s performance absolutely reeling, and spent the entire time inside on the edge of my seat with butterflies all over the place! It may be that as a weak and feeble female, I’m automatically won over by the melting dark chocolate sensation that is his voice, or it may have been the fact that the lighting and set-up of the stage and the attire of the many strong men standing over enormous percussion instruments was so perfectly coordinated and just my colours (or my black I suppose I should say), but whatever it was, it was beautiful and quite the experience and I would absolutely definitely see the show again and again recommend that anyone who even likes Yoann Lemoine’s work a little bit should absolutely definitely see the show for a first time! Certainly a contender and an easy answer for the dreaded question if nothing else!

On the ninth night (this is beginning to sound like some kind of traditional tale), I was whisked off to the Spiegeltent for a Swing Spectacular! I very much enjoy dressing up in vintage-style clothes and dancing around to music from the 40s and 50s. There’s something about being transported back in time to an era that didn’t even have me in it that really excites me! The Spiegeltent is my favourite NNF venue so I had to make the most of my night in there for the Bo Nanafana Swing Spectacular as sadly I haven’t attended any other events in there this year. On approach to the tent I always feel a bubble of excitement rising in a child-like sense as it’s just so inviting and colourful and pretty and has a real presence! The interior is even better, with the beautiful dance floor (which every dance floor should be like in every way!), the booths, the bar, the ceiling, the stage, the stained glass; it’s all very magnificent and unique. Graced with the presence of Mr B The Gentleman Rhymer and his banjolele, it was quite the spectacular as promised!

One of my favourite things about the NNF is that it takes me to new locations, and my favourite place that has been open for access this year is The Undercroft at the top of the market! It may well have been open for festival installations another year, but I’d never been in there until the tenth day! It’s All Up In The Air is an art installation by Rhona Byrne and consists of hanging black clouds assembled from modelling balloons. Yet another surreal experience, I have taken a few people to see the clouds since my first encounter where I stumbled upon some ‘ninja knitting’ as apparently other people are loving the secretive nature of the location too!

Another year over and already I’m intrigued by what next year may have to offer...