Portugal is off the port side

Our internet has been down, so here are some updates of the last few days.  Hope all of you are well.  The trip goes along wonderfully.


We are (were...) steaming through the Bay of Biscayne.  Our captain was pleased to announce that it is the calmest he has ever seen it.  We are still rolling from side to side, causing us all to weave down hallways.  "It is suggested that all guests use the handrails, and that the ladies avoid wearing high heels."  It's a good thing that I'm no lady.

two days ago, we got up early as always. and suddenly we were in Belgium.  We took the train from Blankenberge to Bruges.  We sat with Kinchici on the train.  He is an African, a Dutch citizen born in the Congo.  He is a retired pediatician who did his medical studies in Brussels, then worked for a mining company in the Congo.  He is retired, has six childen and 12 grandchildren.  Most grandchildren live in Belgium, but one daughter lives in the Congo with children so he travels there regularly to visit.  A cheerful and helpful gentleman with a booming laugh who speaks five languages and assures us that things are improving in his native country.

Bruges.  Around every corner is beauty.  and then more beauty.  and again, beauty.  canals, gabled houses, boats, horse drawn carriages.  A charming place.  We climbed up, and then down the clock tower (366 steps, they tell us) and then, overwhelmed by beauty, we had to sit in a cafe in the square and have strong, strong belgium beer.  We decided to have chips and eel, as we were told that eel is a belgium specialty.  And so, there is a reason why I have waited almost 45 years to try eel.  I am glad to be done with it for the next 45. (We sat for a while in this main square In Bruges and looked for irish hitmen and midgets. I think I saw voldemort. No one was thrown from the clock tower.)

Back to the ship, another fabulous dinner, another stroll around the deck, another departure for foreign lands.  We ended the evening in our favorite bar with Millica from Serbia, Paolo and Vanessa from Brazil, and Hilda ("the crazy one") from the Phillipines.  Poor Millica longs to see the Eiffel Tower, but France (and Sweden) does not allow Serbians to enter their country.  Really, France? A sweet Serbian girl can't go to Paris?

There are over 75 nations represented in the employeees on this ship.  Nepal, lots of Brazilians. Indonesions, Indians, Africans.  I even spied one lone american.  They work so hard and are away from their families and homeland for seven months at a time.  We are very appreciative of all they do for us.

Up again early yesterday, this time for our first ship tour.  We decided to take a coach tour to Bayeaux and Normandie. It's quite far away, and if you take a ship tour they have to wait for you should things go awry and you can't get back in time.  It was a good decision.  Michelle from La Havre was our tour guide, and she was great.   Her commentary was inciteful, funny and complete. I learned lots of interesting information, that I will write and send to Sage.  I have three pages worth of information for you, lucky girl!  ;)

We thought of you, Jeannie and Dan, walking through Bayeaux and how lucky you were to have stayed here.  What a charming village.  The tapestry was fascinating!  The ship tour arranged lunch for us.  We thought it would be generic tourist lunch, oh mais non!  lunch was served in the Lion D'Or. First we were served an aperitif of wine and black current syrup "to get the digestion started," then a  lovely puff pastry with mussels and creme fraiche.  we had our choice of red or white wine with this.  Happy and content after lunch...but wait!  That wasn't lunch, that was merely the first course!  The second course was chicken, with an herbed sauce, roasted potatoes and a spiced baked apple.  More wine, then dessert, followed by one of the most heavenly beverages on earth, that lovely demitasse of strong, black french espresso.  Thank you, France, for your food and wine and coffee.  I am eternally grateful.

It is amazing how present World War II still is in Europe.  It is not as if it happened almost 70 years ago.  It is like it was yesterday.  Our tour guide told us her family stories from the occupation in Burgundy.  The remains of the artificial harbor, the landing beaches, the gun emplacements, the graves.  Most buildings, homes and landmarks were bombed to oblivion, but were rebuilt using the rubble, so still appear quite old.  The little community around Omaha beach is a sweet little beach town now, a mixture of vacation cottages and well-tended homes.  And german gun emplacements.

Driving through the north french country-side was like driving to Monroe.  Farms, farm houses, fields, cattle and the occaisonal large chateau.  The french love to camp.  Who knew?

We got up this morning, which is September 20th and quite possibly Sunday? and went to the gym.  I ran another three miles on the treadmill, still quite slowly but a little faster.  With the rolling of the ship it was like going up and down little hills, over and over.  Roger, as usual, outworked and outlifted everyone.

We now rest, relax, eat, sleep and read, for tomorrow we stroll through the northern coastal Spanish town of La Coruna. (this was written a few days ago, and Coruna has been strolled.)  :)

Thanks for reading.