Past Travels
Bilbao – Day 13 of 55
Great Pinchos We ended our cruise in Bilbao. Great, beautiful city. We arrived early in the morning like in London. We stayed at a Holiday Inn Express near the airport since we were flying to Amsterdam the next day. I think we got ripped off by the taxi driver from the ship to the hotel. The front desk clerk Alexander worked hard to quickly get us a room quickly. It is the heart and western edge of Basque country. It is estimated that Basque culture has been around 40,000 years. Of all the ports we visited, I would love to come back and stay a few days in three of them: Brugges, Honfleur, and Bilbao. La Rochelle, Bordeaux, and Santander were enjoyable, but did not leave me with a huge desire to return. We couldn’t visit Port St. Peter due to rough seas. Now, I know that I didn’t have much nice to say about Brest. But I have an update. We met a couple from South Carolina on the ship who told us they had a wonderful time in Brest. What did we miss? I mentioned earlier that the ship shuttle dropped us off in the deserted downtown on
Santander – Day 12 of 55
Butter Knife Santander is our last port of call on the cruise. When I hear the name I think of banks and loans. We were here once before to rent a car and drive to Ribadesella, Spain, also on the northern coast. That was one of my favorite trips because we drove into the mountains to Pico de Europas National Park. We also drove to Ovieto, Spain, to see the exposition the Sudarium, Jesus’ burial face cloth (see John 20:7). Our day here was short, not because of Oceania, but because we had to pack up for our disembarkation in Bilbao the next day. We went to Mass at the Assumption of Our Lady cathedral. Then opted for a Hop on Hop Off Bus tour and a visit to a modern art museum. The weather was clear and sunny for a change. Santander is nice to visit because so much of its land is devoted to green parkland and clean seashore. The bus drove us all around like it usually does, which earphones stuck into the side of the bus dialed to the English station. The sign said to dial to #3 for English, but #3 was French. So we moved
Bordeaux – Days 10-11 of 55
When traveling, especially on a long trip, there are always unexpected things. And things began unexpectedly in Bordeaux. We had scheduled an 8:50 am tour of the small village of Saint Émilion, famous for its centuries of Bordeaux wine making. Saint Émilion is about a 50-minute drive east of Bordeaux. Didn’t foresee a problem. The ship docked at 1:00 am, and we would walk 10 minutes to the meeting point. However, the night before, an announcement came over the cruise ship telling us that there was a problem with moving a bridge and we were unable to dock next to the city of Bordeaux. Instead, the ship planned to dock at another site where we had to take a 45-minute bus ride into the city. That meant we had to get off the ship and take the bus into the city no later than 8:00 am. Why was this a problem? Because it was a rare instance in which we had non-refundable vouchers for the tour. We almost never do that; it was an oversight. Since we had no idea when the first bus would leave the ship, we began going up the ship chain of command, pestering people about
La Rochelle – Day 9 of 55
While Bruges and Honfleur were basically villages, Brest and La Rochelle are actually cities.The quaintness is gone. However, unlike Brest, the downtown area was busy on Sunday morning. There is a huge farmers market—and I mean huge. One of things I love about Europe is that many, many people shop at specialty stores. Not like we consider specialty stores. For us it has a different connotation, I think. But folks here go to the butcher for meat, the cheese shop for cheese, the open market for vegetables, the bakery forbread, etc. It is so unlike America because we go to large stores to buy everything. But these small shops are still very common in Europe. It was Sunday, so we went to Mass at Church of Notre-Dame of Cougnes church. Then we wandered around the market and people watched. Peopleare odd; guess that’s why we like to watch them. We discovered a restaurant called The French Café. There are so many cafes in France. Guess this one is THE French café. So, we took the bus back to the ship and got into the hot tub. I don’t think I mentioned it formally, but we are on an Oceania cruise from
Brest – Day 8 of 55
Walking to Oceanopolis What a difference a port makes. Here we are in Brest. Our ship is docked for only six hours. It is Saturday morning and raining. Our shuttle bus dropped us off downtown around 10:30 am. We got out of the shuttle and walked around a bit. The place was dead. Downtown streets empty. Nothing open. Nothing going on. If I fell over dead, and Rebecca wasn’t there, it would take at least an hour for someone to find me. So, what did we do? We decided to walk 2½ miles in the drizzle and rain to an aquarium called “Oceanopolis.” We figured we needed to exercise. For most of the way, there was a busy street on one side and various fauna and flora on the other side, with some cliffs behind that. Rebecca told me about every tree, plant, grass, mold, fungus, and ground cover that we passed by. We made it to the aquarium despite discovering painful muscles around my left hip that I never knew existed. The aquarium wasn’t bad. Clearly it was better than staring at empty downtown streets. The place was dedicated to sea life along 1800 miles of French coastline in
Honfleur – Days 5/6 of 55
We spent two days in Honfleur. Many people took excursions into Paris; I had enough of Paris last year and earlier this year. Unlike the experience at Bruges, it was a 25-minute walk into the city. I love these small cities in Europe. I keep thinking, why don’t I come here for a few days instead of going someplace like Paris, where there are so many people and tourists. I’m thinking I’ve got to stop that. We took a vacation several years ago where we traveled to five small cities (really, we’re talking towns or villages) in Europe, staying four days each. That was one of my favorite trips. When you’re in a smaller place without touristy sites, there is a stronger connection to the local flavor of the place. So off to Honfleur. The local church is called St. Catherine of Alexandria. It is the oldest wooden church in France. Constructed by shipbuilders they say. On the first day Rebecca said, “I think we’ve been here before.” I said, “I’ve never been here.” When we came back to the ship that evening, I looked it up. Well, she was right. I was wrong. I hate saying that. But we