Day 13--Cadiz, Spain

5 September, 36° 32” N, 6° 17” W, speed = 0 knots

After a restless night, I woke just a few minutes before 0700 to the periodic flash of a light coming through the window. It was still dark outside, but the faint glow and the flashes drew me to the window, where I looked out and saw the lights of the narrow Cadiz peninsula slowly moving past, punctuated every 20 seconds or so by the sweep of the lighthouse as we entered the harbor at what couldn’t have been more than 5 or 6 knots.

I took a quick shower and hustled to the 6th-deck “garden lounge” cafeteria and outdoor dining area. The deck was already packed with students, some eating breakfast, but most standing at the railings, cameras in hand, snapping pictures of the lights, the passing boats, but primarily of the Cadiz port and, to the east, the mountains of the Spanish coast. The sun was just starting to come up over the mountains, which were silhouetted against a faint orange-red horizon. And exactly opposite, off the bow, were the gleaming white buildings and churches of Cadiz, also silhouetted by the brilliant full moon that was slowly settling in the northwest. If an artist had wanted to arrange a more perfect welcome to Spain, he couldn’t possibly have created a scene any better.

I thought briefly of going back to the cabin to get my camera, but I remembered the ship’s photographer last night asking voyagers to unload their Cadiz photos the morning after they depart. He’d then pick the best for the voyage book. So I’m sure some museum-ready photos of our arrival in Cadiz will be in the book.

The way the crew puts this huge ship into port is a thing of wonder. We’re docked in a fairly narrow bay that obviously was built by man, not God. It may be, at most, 1,000 feet across, or two lengths of Explorer. We came in bow first, then the engines cranked, the ship shuddered to a crawl, and, as if sitting on top of a flagpole, the captain and pilot spun the ship 180 degrees very, very slowly, then maneuvered her sideways into the pier. There, the Explorer’s crew slung weights attached to ropes about the size of thick clotheslines to waiting shoremen on the pier. Those shoremen grabbed the lines and pulled, drawing out of the ship 5 or 6 massive ropes, at least 6” thick, and hauled them onto the pier. Each rope ended in a woven loop, connected by a knot at least 12” thick. The shoremen heaved the loops—it takes two strong men to lift them—up and over the stanchions that, when the ropes are drawn taught by the onboard cinches, attach us fast to the shore. That entire maneuver must take years to master.

Cadiz is right out of a coffee table book of Spain. It sits on a peninsula that juts out into the Atlantic just 25 miles or so—maybe a few more—east of Gibraltar. It’s one of the oldest if not the oldest city in Europe, founded by the Phoenicians, who sailed here then decided that, if they went much farther, they’d drop off the edge of the earth. The city is crisscrossed with very narrow streets, most of which end in a plaza of some sort. It doesn’t look like any building is over 5 stories high, and, clearly, the city has declared that nothing will block the towers of the many cathedrals around the city. Most buildings, especially in the older part of the city, where we’re docked, are very similar to ones you’d see in the French Quarter of New Orleans: painted in pastels, with wrought-iron balconies overlooking the cobblestone streets. But the look is definitely Spanish, not French.

The ship cleared customs by 0900, and I joined Bob & Maria Chapel, and Betsy Bloom, on a walking tour starting at 1000. I can’t describe how beautiful and charming this city is, so I’ll leave it up to the photos I took and will post on Facebook. We walked along the water to an old fort, then turned into the city and wound our way past cathedrals, plazas, and shops just starting to open until we reached Plaza de San Antonio, where a large Moorish style church dominates a large, paved square surrounded by shops, a restaurant, and a café. From the plaza, we turned down what I can only describe as Cadiz’s answer to Boul Mich in Chicago: a wide (by Cadiz standards) street that had been turned into a pedestrian mall, lined with stores selling very fine clothing, shoes, leather goods, and of course, electronic gear.

We stopped at an al fresco café and ordered 4 cups of coffee—4 wonderful cups of coffee, especially appreciated after 8 days of coffee that falls far short. Even the stuff that I’m brewing in my coffee press can’t come close to the espresso Americano con leche I drank sitting at the table on Avenida Ancha.

Then we made our way back to the ship slowly, making many stops for Maria and Betsy to shop while Bob and I stood around outside watching the people walk by pushing strollers, ride by on mopeds, stroll by hand-in-hand, race by chasing or pulling small children, or (for very many) go by trying to control their dogs. Every family in Cadiz must own a dog, and they were all out on market Saturday.

We got back to the ship in time for Maria and Betsy to join an archeological tour of the city. Bob and I headed back out to the large food market in the center of town. At Plaza Libertad, we entered a rectangular building that was at least 100 yards long by 30 to 40 yards wide. Inside the building were very narrow lanes lined my vendors selling fruits, vegetables, chickens, beef, fish, shrimp, mussels, and almost every other edible produced by nature. And the entire population of Cadiz was there. Again, photos do the scene far better justice than I can. They’ll be on Facebook.

We stopped for a cerveza (two each, actually) with two other shipmates, then worked our way back to the ship through a different maze of narrow streets, walking up the gangway about 1500 (3pm). I made one more trip out at 1730 (5:30pm) to a small wine store we had passed, where I bought some Spanish port and a white wine. By the time we leave, I’ll have restocked my small cellar with a few bottles of decent Spanish vino.

Tonight, we’re going to dinner at a nearby restaurant that comes highly recommended. Tomorrow morning, Bob and I get on a bus to Sevilla and Cordoba for an overnight trip while Maria travels to both cities, then on to Granada. Bob and I need to get back, though, in time for our 1050 tee time Tuesday. The temperature is forecast to be 40-degrees-plus (Celsius), with 20+ mph winds. Not ideal conditions—especially the wind—but who cares? It’s golf in Spain!