Rio is good for you!

This morning after an early breakfast I had an absolutely transcendent experience. I went for a long walk on the beach. I started out at Enseada Gloria behind the Modern Art Museum and walked all the way to Botafogo, about 2.5 miles each way. Now remember, I am not a walker. I drive. I have been walking though and this was a real test of how I did on the cruise. I took my shirt off to appear more native. No one wears a shirt on the beach. The sun was already quite warm on my back. As I mentioned before, everyone does this everyday. It was people watching at its best. “Walk-by” people watching. It was a very typical day. The beautiful people mingling with the not so beautiful people. The smaller airlines came in low in front of Pao do Acucar, along the beach landing at Santos Dumont about every 15 minutes. SD services the local flights while Tom Jobim International takes care of the long hauls. There were lots of yachts in the Enseada and at Botafogo, wonderful old wooden beauties, wide abeam and ready for partiers. The athletes were out running the “life course” with various exercise stations. Others were already showing off on the beach, thongs and Speedos the couture de jour. Venders were out hawking fresh coconuts. Fresh coconut milk is a great thirst quencher when you are out there in the sun. The walk back was easily as enjoyable without a hint of fatigue. It was as if Rio was telling me to stay, “Rio is good for you,” “see how you don’t tire,” "See how you don’t perspire” "Stay, don’t leave; Rio is good for you."

Que Saudade!

I spent the afternoon with my Rio family and we discovered how little is open for business on a Sunday. Flavio also mentioned that they have too many holidays, three last week and two this week [actually only one this week but it is a Thursday and when that occurs everyone “burns” Friday]. We were supposed to go to a very old and well-respected restaurant called Colombo but it was closed. We might make it there tomorrow before the airport. Flavio has kindly offered to take me. Check out is noon but my flight isn’t till 8:30 so we can just keep the luggage in the car. Since we were in Centro anyway we went back to CCBB because I wanted them, especially Caue to see the plant thing. Its official name is The Dream of the Office Plant. There is a desk with in-and-out trays, a phone and such and a lowly potted plant. Out of that pot grows this horticultural fantasy I described in the last post. We also found on another floor an exhibit of photographs by the Ferrez family. The images cover the 20th Century and are mostly devoted to Brazil, especially the construction of buildings, highways and public works. Gilberto, Julio, and Luciano also photographed Salvador, Recife and other Brazilian locales as well as Senegal, Portugal, England, Switzerland, Italy and France.
We had lunch in the teahouse on the third floor of the CCBB. It’s called Colher de Pau [wooden spoon] and it is an elegant little dining room where most everyone was drinking tea and eating toast or biscuits.
From there we drove to the Feira Hippie da Ipanema, a craft market that operates on weekends and holidays. Had I any room in my luggage I would have been a spendthrift. I should throw out half the stuff I am carrying but I chose to bring my favorite clothes. I can’t throw them away. I picked up a few mementos, a book or two. I am going to leave the guidebooks with Flavio and Renata as well as the unused DEET, lotions and such. I am going to try to ditch my carry-on satchel as well. The overhead compartments are now so small that it is a struggle to stuff it in. I can use the cloth HAL bag we all got as a gift on the first day at sea.
On the way back to the hotel driving along Flamingo there were hundreds and hundreds of white crosses lining both sides of the road for several miles. It was part of a demonstration/installation decrying the number of murders in Rio already this year. It is only April and over 2000 have been killed. It is almost entirely in the favelas but also in the outlying areas. I wonder what the world record is. I seem to remember when 300 murders in one year in Oakland was considered outrageous. Well, life is cheap and getting cheaper by the hour.
I don’t think you’ll get another post until I’m home safely at my big fast desktop computer that is always online. It has been a wonderful experience made more wonderful by the participation of my lovely friends. I can never thank you all enough for making this happen. Que saudade!

Domingo

It is Sunday in Rio. Saturday and Sunday are the only days of the week that have names, Sabado and Domingo. The other days are called Segunda-feira, Terca-feira, Quarta-feira and so on. Feira translates as weekday and also means fair, as in county fair. Lesson over.
8 AM and I am hungry. I didn’t eat much yesterday as I was feeling quite punk. The night passed well only waking up coughing a couple of times. The throat is still raspy but I feel 100 times better. That’ll probably change when I get on the plane tomorrow. With my resistance down I will probably contract something weird. You are crammed into such proximity with so many others including the little germ factories they call children, it a wonder anyone escapes healthy. The Rotterdam [and assume any other ship of repute] has the sanitation thing down. Before you can board or leave the ship you must get a handful of Purel. There are dispensers everywhere. EVERYWHERE! They also tell you on first boarding to refrain from kissing and shaking hands. They suggest bumping elbows or the “air-buss” that Europeans do so well. I am sure this concern and practice are fairly recent and brought on by the incidents of outbreaks of flu, flu-like symptoms and other ailments on cruise ships in the last few years. I think it is quite effective even if there are a few passengers who are above the rules and practice there own form of civil disobedience to the detriment of everyone else. Why would you travel in so social a manner if you felt so superior to everyone else? Perhaps they never leave their staterooms. Perhaps they like having a mobile home.
At the CCBB yesterday there was one more item worth mentioning. It is a giant installation in the rotunda of the bank itself. They have large circular padded beds that you can lay back on to study the piece. It had an odd title and as far as I can tell it meant something like “homage to the office plant.” Suspended from the dome was an array of vines, wires, branches and lines all adorned with real and artificial plants and flowers. It dropped down some 4 or 5 stories to a point where I could almost reach it. Branches of it might have a specific treatment [blue morning glories seeming to float in the air] but the overall effect was an explosion of color and shapes all dancing in the light from the glass dome.
Rio Centro is very much like any other big city. New and old buildings compete for your attention. There seems to be a preponderance of banks, like 5 to 1. The sidewalks are still tiled like the beach and there are many stalls selling papers and magazines, fruit drinks, whatever. There are plazas and squares every few blocks and traffic, traffic, traffic. There are street people. Some sit quietly on the side hoping for a donation. I didn’t see any really aggressive begging like you find at the beach. There were people asleep on the pavement and not off in a doorway either. It was as if they just laid down on the sidewalk when they were tired, probably the result of substance abuse which is quite common here. The police are not just in the business of gunrunning. The favelas and law-enforcement are in a very symbiotic relationship. We look at it as a disgraceful abuse of power; they look at it as making life as uncomplicated as possible. I was also told that law enforcement is a very low-income job ad most young people join knowing they will be able to supplement their income easily. And they get to carry a gun, which is very “sexy” in Brazil.
As a tourist you are told to stay away from certain areas, don’t go out alone or not to go to certain neighborhoods at night, especially on foot. I have found little discomfort wandering around but that might simply be my size. Flavio has taken me to places not recommended in the guidebooks but I always felt comfortable. Of course, Flavio is as tall as I am. That aside, I found most of Rio very friendly and helpful with lots of people willing to try to communicate with you in any combination you can come up with. Some Cariocas speak a little English or maybe a little French; they are all willing to try using Spanish, as it is so similar. And gestures are also helpful. The most common one I found is the “thumb-up” to indicate “yes” or “OK” or “fine” and if you show it “up” and then immediately turn it on it’s side or down it will usually convey that you are not interested in what they’re selling you, telling you, etc.

Museums

It’s Saturday the 26th at 6AM. I slept pretty well thanks to the cachaca.
It is Museum day and I got my recommendations from Renata who is a student of design.
I will start with MAM. The exhibit is called Seu Sami [Mr. Sami] and the artist is Hilal Sami Hilal born of Syrian heritage. Christian and Islamic elements intermingle in themes of writing, music and psychoanalysis. In the main hall there were 3 pieces. The first was a suspended cube made up of panels of squares separated by a distance equal to the width of an individual square. There is a labyrinth made up of large bound volumes with the pages extended and bound into another book. Each book has half the pages going in one binding and half going into another. Each attached binding has half of its pages bound into another book. All the books are on end and by the way they are positioned create a pathway inviting the viewer on a short journey. There is a platform containing hundreds of smaller pieces that he refers to as a library. Much of the work is in the form of books and pages made of fabric, handmade paper, foil, thread and other materials. Many of these pieces contain elements that make up the last and truly wonderful tribute to his father. In a large dark room with wall-to-wall mirrors at both ends there are four “hangings” not unlike the panels in the first piece but much larger. They hang from the ceiling a little away from the wall to play some with shadows, and then they flow onto the floor for about four feet. The mirrors make them look twice as large and you don’t know there are mirrors until you get up next to them. These grids are covered with thread and wads of handmade paper in a calligraphic manner that suggests something different in each of the four. The second on is virtually Rococo with ornate swirls, curlicues, palmettes and the like. It also shows the color variation even though they are all very monochromatic. The last one is disturbing. As you turn to it you lose the sense of calligraphy and see instead a visual cacophony of barbed wire, amplified by the shadows.
My next stop was the Centro Cultural Banco do Brasil, for the exhibit called Ostropicos: Visoes a Partit do Centro do Globo. The exhibit includes about 130 works from Berlin’s Museum of Ethnology and works from contemporary artists from South Africa, Germany, Singapore, Spain, Ethiopia, England, Peru, Switzerland and Brazil. The use of thematic groups was freely and associatively guided by Claude Levi-Straus’s Mythologiques series. The fabrics on exhibit were the most beautiful I have ever seen. The micro-weaving and delicate embroidery were breathtaking. I know I’m gushing but I love fabric.
My last stop was Casa Franca-Brasil, which was showing an extraordinary collection of the works of Jean Baptiste Debret, an 18th Century French Artist, Botanist, Anthropologist and all around culture maven. He must have spent a lot of time here, as his work is extensive. Etchings, watercolors, botanical drawings, oils of historical import, and portraiture document the birth of this amazing country. Check him out on the net.
I am back to my room and am going to sleep for a while as this cold has me exhausted. I did discover the joys of the soft serve cone from Hamburger Bob’s down the street. Oh sweet relief!

Othon #2

I have come down with a bug. It started late last night on the plane; I started to sneeze. This morning my throat is soar and I’m feeling under par. Tenho tosse. And I find more items I neglected to pack but were on my checklist. What a putz! I have no aspirin, Tylenol, Aleve or the like. I have no Benadryl or Sudafed, no cough lozenges; I didn’t even pack tissues. I will stay in my room until 11 or so when I will call Flavio and see what’s up and if I am up to it.
It’s a noisy room, right over the freeway but it will do nicely for my plan to explore the non-beach side of life in Rio. What am I, crazy? All life in Rio is about the beach.
I am across the street form Museu do Arte Moderna [MAM], Monumento aos Pracinhas, Museo da Guerra Mundial, Museu da Escola Naval. They are all bunched around a little bay called Enseada da Gloria, which is at the north end of the beachfront park known as [Aterro do] Flamingo. That stretches south to the beach and bay of Botafogo which is bordered on the southeast by Sugarloaf Mountain [Pao de Acucar]. I have to hook up an international keyboard on this puppy, as I have to leave off all the tildes, cedillas and those little hat things over the number 6. This Othon has the same “continental breakfast” as The Lancaster, perhaps a bit more extensive. It’s in a much bigger room, which, I think, becomes a full-scale restaurant in the evening.
The poverty of Rio is right outside the door. There is a Banco Real with a small plaza and there were a half dozen sleeping under large plastic sheets, not like a tent but just wrapped up in the plastic. The food crisis is very evident here as Brazil has gone so far with the bio-fuels game that the staples of rice and other grains have soared price wise.
Flavio came by and we went to Pao de Acucar and walked around the bottom of it. It’s a beautiful jungle walk, peaceful and quiet. Little monkeys showed up begging. We then went to Urca, an upscale neighborhood at the foot of Pao to check out one of his favorite bars. We went into a little mom and pop type store and Flavio said something and we walked out and across the street to the sea wall. We were followed by a waiter [of sorts] with two glasses and a big bottle of beer. We sat there with dozens of others and when we needed more beer we waved and they brought it over. It was so perfectly laid back.
We picked up Renata and Caue and went for a bite.
Arataca was Tom Jobim’s home away from home. Flavio remembers seeing him there daily. They lived on the same street.
We had Tacaca, a shrimp soup made with Jambu [an herb I must research]. It was so different and flavorful. Arataca features cuisine from the North and Northeast, Renata’s homeland. We then had tapioca crepes w/ crab. I had a glass of graviola, a not at all sweet fruit juice that looked like pina colada. We poured a shot of really good cachaca in it. We finished of the meal with a big bottle of beer.

Flyin' back to Rio

I’m back in Rio after an excruciating flight. I hate being big. It was an A330 [TAP / Air Portugal] and I had a bulkhead, which gave me decent room, but I had to empty my pockets to get in the seat, no lie. I could not get at any controls, there was no directional air and the table wouldn’t fit over my legs. Luckily I had the seat next to me empty [the armrests were solid to the floor and didn’t move] and I opened that table and used those controls. We did have two decent meals, 5 different movies and the best music I have yet to hear on a plane. It was 9.5 hours and I am aching and racked with pain.
My hotel, Aeroporto Othon Travel, is seedy. It’s older than the Lancaster. But I have a great room on the 8th floor overlooking Flamingo [a beach district], the Modern Art Museum and the city lights. I can see Cristo Redentor lit up in the distance. I am going to go to bed now as I think I may have caught something on the flight.
Tune in tomorrow.

Trivia

Some stuff I may have missed.
Lisbon residents are called Lisboetas. Lisbon has one of the highest automobile accident rates in Europe. They also have a big auto theft problem. The only subjects you do talk about in Lisbon are football, family and religion. No wonder I was having a hard time. Lisbon is Europe’s Western-most city and the population has dropped from 807,000 in 1981 to 536,000 now. They entered the EU in 1986. The youth of Lisbon love logos… on everything! The more the better! I think that’s all for now. I’ll go back and edit all the posts after I get home and then you can go back and reread them… not!

Aeroporto, Lisboa

I am at the Lisbon Airport now. At first I was struck by the incredible commercial nature of the place. Shops, stalls, restaurants etc. bombard you with colors, lights and sounds. You have to actually look around for the airport info, as it is out-glammed by the businesses. I got here very early. My flight doesn’t leave for 4 hours but I felt in light of how difficult I found it getting even the most basic information I decided to avoid any time crunch. Of course I got the nicest cabbie who quoted me half [15EU] of what it cost to arrive and he got me to the airport in 10 minutes. He even helped me with my bags. So, I am here with time to kill.
First of all, come with a map of the airport; they are hard to find. You need a map [download one from the internet], as it is a bit confusing. It’s not a new airport not very big. They are building a new one scheduled for 2010. I didn‘t see any lines on check-in. They let me check my bags early so I could go to the lounge area and hang out. They have the standard gate chairs aplenty and they have larger tipped-back seats with attachable leg rests. These are in front of a TV with the usual confusing game show on… for hours. The TV is a Grundig [“made for you”] and they must supply then to the airport for free as a promotion. I had to pay to get on line here and there is only one choice. The minimum was a day pass for 10EU so I might get a bit long-winded in order to get my money’s worth. But you only have 5 more days of this anyway. After I get home I guess I’ll have to write about Healdsburg and all of you.
I saw that Dengue Fever is going gangbusters in Rio so I will spray and slather and rub when I get there. My hotel this time is in Centro [more urban, less beach] and I will be exploring the nightlife and such. I probably told you this before but I do need to be longwinded. I think I’ll post this, send some photos to some of you and post again later after I locate something of interest.

Lisbon Loose Ends

I’d like to tie up a few loose ends before I leave Lisbon.
Mustaches: Several guidebooks claim there are more mustaches [on males] per capita in Lisbon than in any other European country. This must be a very old statistic as I saw very few. No one under 50 wears one, that is for sure. Young men sport short-cropped hair, often a buzz cut, with no facial hair. They are into side burns but those are also closely cut. It’s that “I don’t want to look too groomed but it took me an hour this morning to get it right.” The attire is jeans, t-shirts, hoodies, and athletic shoes or very smart suits with very conservative ties.
Hippie Chicks: On first arrival I thought there were a lot of Euro-trash vagabond girls in Lisbon. Wrong! This is the look. All the finest stores have mannequins dressed in a 60s/70s hybrid. Bell bottoms, hip-huggers, tie-dye, ethnic accessories etc. The only difference from then and now is the ubiquitous mobile phone. The older women dress like my mother. There are “fabulous” clothes, shoes, bags etc. in all the trendy shops but I guess they are worn in town. This town is big on jewelry, costume and real.
Newspapers: You have to search high and low for an English language paper. You actually don’t see many newspapers at all. What you do see are Desktak and Global. These are free dailies and they have the most extensive distribution system. They are given out on every corner, in every store and café, and on all trains, buses, trams and the Metro. A guy gets on at one stop, walks through the cars dropping copies on the seats as if they were left there. He throws a few in the overhead shelves as well. Everyone reads them. It’s the first thing you grab when you board… even before finding a seat.
Chery: That’s another strange car. I think it’s made in China. It seems to be quite popular. It looks Japanese but doesn’t everything?
Shopping Centers: I mentioned Armazens do Chiado, Vasco da Gama and I visited a small one in Cascais this morning. I had lunch at El Corte Ingles today. This is not exactly a shopping center but it is big as the rest. This is one store; it’s a Spanish chain and it includes a supermarket as well. You enter it as you exit the Metro. It was mobbed. The restaurant was quite large with outside side seating which is spectacular as you are on top of the building 7 stories over the Parque.
I then mad my way down to the Rossio, the main square about 8 blocks north of the Praca do Comercio. Beautiful buildings surround it. Theatres and Municipal edifices share the space with hotels, apartments and shops. There is a metro station there. One hotel called Art Deco theatre complex. The façade has been preserved and it has a jungle growing out of the second story of the building. I will have to get a picture on this post.
I’ll close and get this posted and try to post from the Airport tomorrow. I can’t wait to get back to Rio, Dengue Fever and all.

Cascais

This is my last full day in Lisbon. My plane for Rio leaves about 3:30PM. I will head out the airport immediately upon checkout, about noon.
I am going to try to do museums today and one longer [train] trip to Belem, Estoril and Cascais to the west. My Lisboa Card gives me free admission to most of the museums and a substantial discount on the others. I plan to fully exhaust myself today and tomorrow morning; I plan to sleep on the 11 hour flight to Rio. I hope to post today, maybe from the airport tomorrow and then Rio that night if I can get on line that late. The hotel supposedly has access. Well it’s almost 6AM so I’m going to nap a little more and head out by 8AM. Nothing opens until 10AM at the earliest so I head west first.
I am sitting in the Cascais Shopping Center overlooking the mouth of the Tagus River.
More later.

Internet Access

Well, I could not get on line yesterday so I went in search of an Internet café. You would think this town was in the Stone Age. No one I asked including the hotel staff knew of one. The big hotels all have Wi-Fi but you must have an access code, which you get by booking a room. I found reference to one not far from here and strolled over to the address… nothing there. I went to Rua do Duque, not Rua do Duques. By the time I got to the correct address [they were upstairs from a nice friendly café] they were closed, 7PM. They open 10:30 tomorrow morning. I am trying to post everyday like I promised but sometimes you’re the windshield sometimes you’re the bug.
I think I printed out a list from the Internet which I’ll look for tonight. No harm in having a few choices especially now that I can use the public transportation whenever I damn please.
This town is so different on a weekday! There are thousands of people everywhere. Sunday was really quiet. Sunday is a good day for sightseeing except most places are closed.
Lisbon strikes me as a very macho city, at least in the eyes of the men. Any man in any level of authority seems to know nothing about anything outside of his world. Ask a policeman, a bus-driver, a shopkeeper, a hotel receptionist for any information and the answer is almost always “can’t help you.” That is of course only if you are a male. Now women, especially young and pretty ones [all the tourist girls are hip, gorgeous and giddy] get an entirely different response. “I’ll walk you there” or “Let me drop what I’m doing and take you there in my car” or “As soon as I brush off this old American coot I’ll take care of you.” It’s mostly the adults. The younger kids seem very friendly and will try to help if they can. They [the kids] all try to communicate in English which is great. It seems that in every country I’ve been to on this trip [even the poorest] have programs in which grammar school children are given the opportunity to study a second and sometimes even a third language.
It’s off to the sight of the 1998 International Exposition, Parque do Nascoes. Santiago Calatrava shows up again. He designed the Gare do Oriente [Oriente Train Station] at the entrance to the Parque.
Parque das Nacoes is the site of Expo ’98. Everything there is futuristic. The enormous Gare do Oriente [Calatravas’ incredible rail/bus/metro station] dominates the entrance. The Vasco da Gama Shopping Center is attached and separates the station from the park. You have to shop [at least window shop] if you want to get to the park. The first thing you see once through the center is the sculpture called Sun Man by Jorge Viera. Then the park is open to exploration. It’s Huge! I walked for half an hour north of the center and didn’t even reach the Vasco da Gama Tower [Unfortunately it was closed] which has a panoramic [360] view of Lisbon. The Vasco da Gama Bridge is further still. It is 10 miles long and the longest in Europe. It was completed for the Expo. I went back in the shopping center to look for Internet Access. I stopped by one “café” and asked the young lady if I could go on-line using my own computer as I had so much on there to upload. A short and not so sweet “no” and nothing more. I asked if there was anywhere that I could. An annoyed look was followed by another no. She was obviously lying to make me believe she was the only option. I then sat down on a nearby bench and opened my computer… low and behold; the entire shopping center is free Wi-Fi! So you got my last posts. And some of you got some photos, too. Ask around if you are interested. I will post everything after I’m home and can spend some time on it but for now I am sending one or two by e-mail.
I guess I have painted Lisbon as a pretty unfriendly city. In that I am staying in the commercial center of the city and haven’t ventured out of the urban life style I may be a little hasty. But for the most part I would have to say that so far it is the least friendly, least helpful city I have yet been to, ever. That’s a real shame because it is a beautiful place and very easy to navigate; I would not hesitate to come back here but I might think twice about engaging anyone in conversation. Just come fully prepared and enjoy it on your own.

I’ll get these last couple of post uploaded today. I promise.

Chiado

The Chiado is named for the poet, Antonio Ribeiro, the 16th Century poet from Evora. His nickname was Chiado which means "squeak."
The Armazens do Chiado is a shopping center at the bottom of Rua Garrett [where my hotel is] about 4 blocks. After being destroyed by fire in 1988 this and the adjacent Edificio Grandela were redesigned by Alvaro Siza Vieira. Inside the unspoiled exteriors is a modern 5-story shopping center. The 5th floor is a food court with FREE Wi-Fi. There is a great little shop there selling huge bowls of soups, usually 5 to choose from. It is a filling and healthy meal. The bowl, some bread and a beverage came to 3.50 EU. There is a huge sporting goods store in the basement, clothing shops, a McDonalds, L’Occitane, toy store, shoes, shoes and more shoes.
There are tiles everywhere, on the street, on the buildings, in the buildings. I will probably spend half the time I’m here photographing tiles.
I woke to the sound of rain at 6AM but it seems to have stopped. I plan a long day of walking. First I’ll check out the “continental breakfast” in the dining room [8AM to 10AM]. Coffee and Carbs should get me through to supper.
I got my Lisboa Card [32 EU] and hopped on the train for Sintra. They run about every 20 minutes and take about 40 minutes to get there. They stop at all the towns/cities in between. My train left at 10:01; at 10:11 we were in Santa Cruz/Damala. I mention this only because of the huge aqueduct there. I love aqueducts. At 10:15 we were going through Amadora which is covered with modern apartment houses covered in Tiles with contrasting color trim. They look like Louis Vitton luggage, Gucci boxes etc.
By 10:40 we were in Sintra. The Lisboa Card is magnetic; you don’t insert it in anything, you just pass it over a sensor. I got on the train and off the train without passing it over anything. I did have to show it to the conductor when he passed through the car. He nodded. I think it is general knowledge that if you want to ride between one or two cities you can hop off and hop on without any hassle.
Sintra is high above a beautiful [but well-inhabited] Valley. There are lovely old Homes, a church with a tiled tower, a grand palace with odd milk-bottle shaped chimneys.
But the Palacio de Pena is what I came to see. You can walk to it but it will take some time and energy; it’s quite a climb. I was already walking for a couple of hours and decided to take the bus. 4EU will get you to the top and back down again on bus #434. It runs intermittently but generally about every 15-20 minutes. It is a narrow one-lane, one-way road with switchbacks along the way. It costs 8 EU to see the palace and the gardens. I got in for 4 EU because of my Lisboa Card. OMG! Wait till you see the pictures. This is a fantasy castle to end all.

Borges Residencial

I am lying in bed in my room in Lisbon. The location is magnificent. The hotel has seen better days but it is clean and quiet. I got the voltage thing figured out. I don’t think the hotel has wireless but the shopping center [hidden in a beautiful old building] at the bottom of the block had a sign that said free Wi-Fi, if I translated it correctly; I’ll try to post later today. I arrived at the Hotel at 9:30 this morning. The taxi was way expensive, 27 Euros for a 10 minute drive. 5 Euros of that was a “luggage” surcharge. There were two guys at the desk who did not seem particularly interested in helping me. I was told that check-in was 12:30 and come back then. They did store my luggage. I found their demeanor just short of rude. After walking around for a few hours and getting caught in the rain [AGAIN] I returned to check in. He asked for my passport, copied it, returned it to me, showed me how to work my key-card, and that was it. A dozen words max. I’ll chalk it up to a bad day and see what happens.
Lisbon is dazzling, even in the rain. There were policemen on every corner as there was a marathon through the city. Most of the shops were closed [because it was Sunday?] but this is a shopper’s neighborhood. The street that The Borges is on, Rua Garrett is pedestrians only. Several other streets in the area are the same. There is a magnificently wide promenade from the river to the Rossio that is paved not unlike the sidewalks in Rio. And the coffee is strong!

4AM: An Accounting

It is Sunday morning at 3:53AM. We are due to arrive Lisbon at 6AM. Sunrise is at 6:50. The seas are very rough [12 to 18 feet] and there is a warning of high winds on the deck. The temperature is 64 and it is overcast. I can’t sleep.
I packed last night; we had to have our bags outside our staterooms by 1AM. I am glad I didn’t have to pack for a plane. I seem to have acquired some stuff.
I retrieved my passport last night from the main office and received my “bill.” In 16 days I have spent $1030.00 on board. They assess a “tip” of $10.00 per day [$170.] and my internet access cost me $304. I booked 6 more excursions while onboard which amounted to about $350. Diet coke and 4 “party drinks” [alcoholic] covered another $100. Shipboard souvenirs came to about $40. I spent $30. on the laundry and there were a couple of incidental expenses. Considering how careful I was in spending on board, I shudder to think what the bill must look like for a couple out for a good time.
I did spend much more time on the internet than most but I think other than that I probably had the lowest bill on the ship. I am going to see what I can use up on-line this AM as I still have about 2 hours credit. Here goes. See you in Lisbon.

Cadiz y Sevilla

It was raining again this morning as we pulled in behind “The Splendor of the Seas,” another cruise ship. Cadiz may be the oldest continually inhabited city in the Western World; it was founded by the Phoenicians in 1000BC.
Our tour started at 8:30 and was supposed to be 8 hours long. The Captain then announced that “all-aboard” would be at 4PM. And to top that we left late. It was a 90-minute ride to Seville and we would see much of old Cadiz; the ride to Seville was to be a beautiful scenic trip. It was POURING rain and you could not see a thing! We entered Seville driving down the Avenue that was the center of the 1929 Ibero-American Exposition where many of the building are now embassies, schools, universities and cultural centers. When we got to old Seville, our first stop was a tiny souvenir shop because they had free bathrooms. Well, there was a line there for some time and another tour showed up with the same intention, to use the restrooms. When we finally got out of there and started out through the old Jewish Quarter, the rain stopped. The old Jewish Quarter does not have any Jews in it. They were expelled along with the Muslims in the 15th Century. They could stay if they embraced The Holy Mother, The Church. It is beautiful with narrow cobbled streets [some as narrow as a meter] doorways opened to revealed landscaped gardens and patios, balconies, tiled street names, bodegas, ice cream parlors and very old buildings. Some are from the 13th century. At the end of an alley we are poured out into a grand plaza with the most extraordinary church. Seville Cathedral along with its tower, The Giralda is the third largest Cathedral in the world. It started as a converted mosque [consecrated in 1248] but then the “expansion” was added. This massive Gothic structure was built from 1434 to 1517. It kept expanding until 1928 when it was declared finished. It has dozens of chapels and the largest altarpiece, the 15th Century Retalbo, in the world. And it is covered in gold. A short walk from the cathedral is the Alcazar. It is a royal palace that is still used by the royal family. The Mudejar architecture is the finest to be found. The coffered and gilded ceiling in the Sala de Justicia is as magnificent a design as I have ever seen. We strolled for an hour or so through the gardens with pools and fountains around every corner. Then it was off to lunch.
We had a buffet lunch at the Hotel Macarena, like the dance… no, like the Madonna. There is a very important statue in Seville called La Virgen de la Macarena. She is the patron saint of the bullfighters and they outdo each other by giving extravagant and bejeweled dresses for the statue to wear in the processions. Some are said to be sewn with gold and silver and adorned with diamonds and other precious stones. We left Seville driving past and through the site of the 1992 International Exposition. We drove back to the ship exhausted.

Here's lookin' at you, kid.

We backed into the harbor at Casablanca before dawn. The only discernable feature was the well and artistically lit Hassan II Mosque in the Old Medina. “Medina” apparently means city. Old Medina is the old part of the city and contains the upper class neighborhoods The Mosque is built in 1989, on a man-made promontory overlooking the Atlantic surf. It took 6 years and over 30,000 workers. It has a retractable roof and its minaret is the tallest in the world at 574 feet. It is stunning in its size and design, and can accommodate 25,000 worshippers inside the main hall.
The New Medina is inland to the southeast and contains most of the government and service buildings. It seems very cosmopolitan and at the same time a bit seedy. The entire city is a jumble of wide avenues, narrow streets and everything in between. There is nothing in the city’s layout that suggests any urban planning. Plazas and town squares aren’t square or even parallelograms. There are dead ends everywhere. All the streets have at least 2 names and they aren’t always posted at intersections. There are many taxis and most know where everything is.
All in all I wouldn’t recommend it as a must visit destination but given enough time I think one could find much to praise. The people are well educated and courteous and there is a sense of tolerance everywhere.
Of course it rained the entire visit and the temperature was unseasonably cool. Tomorrow the forecast is the same. Cadiz will be rainy and cool. I don’t yet know what Seville will be like.
Tonight’s live show was awful, at least the first 2 minutes before I left were. Kaitlyn Carr is billed as Scotland’s premier vocalist. Poor Scotland. Here voice wavered so much I thought it might have been a microphone problem. This has not been the greatest day. I think maybe I am missing everyone too much.
When I get to Portugal and back to Rio I am sure I’ll forget you all again. Not!

Grey Day at Sea

It’s a grey day and the sea is fairly subdued. We had a briefing for those disembarking at Lisbon. I guess that’s just 3 days away. Well the cruise will be over but I will still have a week before I return. Casablanca is our next stop and we will be there the longest; they have to accommodate two excursions that take about 8 to 10 hours. We arrive at 5 AM or so. We are doing a very confusing bit of time manipulation, which is bound to cause some problems. We will not change the ship’s time while in port but our excursion times will reflect local time, which is an hour ahead. I am always on time if not early so I am not worried. I took in the last few minutes of our “port expert’s” comments on Casablanca and Cadiz. I don’t think anyone has spoken to here yet. It was disjointed with inappropriate comments and “UM” between every other word. She also informed us that she was in Casablanca just three weeks ago. She was most moved by an ex-pat American’s bar/restaurant named… you guessed it, “Rick’s.” And she proceeded to tell us that the movie plays in the bar all the time. Then she went into trivia about the MOVIE!!! This poor soul has got to go. In our briefing this morning we were told we would receive a survey to fill out and they insisted we be as critical as necessary. I don’t think she’ll be working for HAL after this cruise.
Last night we had a Dessert Extravaganza! Every night around 10:30 they offer a late night “snack” for those of us who can’t sleep or are in need of nourishment or are just plain compulsive eaters. Last night they made every dessert in the book. They were displayed all around the pool for an hour before the feeding frenzy. I took lots of pictures. The Black Forest Cake was slightly better than the profiteroles. The pineapple cake was an excellent entree to the “pie-ella” a huge 4-berry pie prepared in a paella pan.
For “afters” I had assorted pastries and a pina colada.
We have a gala celebration of Broadway for our live show tonight.
The show was titled “Love Songs from Broadway, Costumes by Mackie.” The costumes were lovely the performances were good but as for "love” songs….”76 Trombones” is a love song?
Well, It’s 5:15AM. We dock at 7AM ashore at 8. In 24 hours I’ll be able to try out my GPS [TomTom] in Spain!

Car Stuff, Compasses and Complaining

I’ve got more car stuff. What is a Skoda? What is a SEAT? The SEAT is the one with the logo with diagonal lines. I finally found a couple while I was on foot. And then there is the Opal. Haven’t seen one of those in some time. They are all over the islands.
And Citroens! I saw them in Brazil, Africa and here in the Canary Islands. The tour busses are pretty fancy and other than the occasional Mercedes Benz are made by companies I’ve never heard of.
We calibrated our compass today. After leaving port we spun around 360 degrees while a compass expert read our instrument. It is done whenever a ship crosses a hemisphere. About an hour after we left the island I was surprised to see we are still insight of land and I think it’s Lanzarote. We must be traveling at such an angle that it is still on the horizon. I don’t get it.
What do you do when you want to constructively criticize someone’s performance but realize that you are dealing with his or her livelihood? We have on the excursion staff a young woman who can only be described as an embarrassment to Holland-America. I hope they are aware of the situation; I think they are as I have heard many passengers complain even cruelly about this woman’s shortcomings. Her job includes presenting briefings of the upcoming ports and the excursions available as well as broadcast commentary approaching and leaving port. She does not do here homework. Her presentations are poorly thought out, she has trouble reading her own notes, her favorite word is “uh” followed by “um.” She seems to get very confused mid-sentence and sometimes just stops reading and picks up minutes later somewhere else. She’s only been with the cruise since Rio and has obviously never been to any of these places. What were her qualifications? I want to offer her my notes, amateur as they are, but I am afraid it would do no good. Her voice is akin to a nursery school teacher dealing with very young children. She has a singsong delivery in a high-pitched condescending tone. It is as if she is saying “all right kiddies, here is what you will learn from me to day.” The she proceeds to read the class random paragraphs from people magazine. I want to say something but it’s probably been said already. I doubt she will have a position with HAL at the end of this cruise… unless, of course, she is someone’s girlfriend.
Enough venting. A day at sea is followed by Casablanca. Here’s lookin’ at you, kid.

Lanzarote

We arrived in Arrecife earlier than anticipated; we were, in fact, at the dock when I awoke. Lanzarote is essentially flat; the only thing that keeps it from being described, as flat is that it is dotted with over 300 volcanic cones. I can see at least a dozen right now. Most are small. The tallest is only 600 meters or so. The entire Island is covered in lava. It is often called “The Devil’s Island,” “The Island of Volcanoes” or “The Island of Fire.” It is the most Northeasterly of the archipelago and the one closest to Africa, which has created a “boat-people” situation. Aside from the island being flat, so are the buildings. There is only one “high-rise,” a 5-star luxury hotel, on the entire island. It was built just before the government decided to limit the height of all future buildings. Most everything else is 2 stories. Buildings seem to all be in the same style, Boxes, painted white with dark doors [green, brown, black] and small onion-shaped chimney pots. Many of these homes are built into the craters, ravines and cones utilizing the land as part of the architecture. This brings us to our tour today. We are visiting Los Jameos del Agua and Mirador del Rio. Both are the creations of Cesar Manrique.
If they ever were to change the name of the island it would certainly be to “Manrique.” It has a nice ring. Manrique was born in Arrecife in 1919 and became a successful artist by the time he reached the age of 21. He entered formal training in 1945 and fell in with a rough crowd… the likes of Picasso and Matisse. He was noticed by Nelson Rockefeller who invited him to the States where he exhibited at the Guggenheim. He spent about 4 years there returning to Lanzarote in 1968 with his head full of grand ideas. Those grand ideas are now a reality. He is responsible for no less than 7 major projects on Lanzarote alone and is credited with inspiring the island’s concern with preserving the environment as well as the building traditions and culture. Unesco has named the entire island a “biosphere reserve.”
Mirador del Rio is a vista designed by Manrique at the north end of the Island. It is built into the wall of the largest volcanic cone on the island. It overlooks Isla Graciosa across a narrow straight from the tip if Lanzarote. The vista involves Manrique’s signature "eco-futuristic” design style. Built below an old canon emplacement it includes a glassed in bar/café with whitewashed curvilinear wall with volcanic details. Outside are walkways with breathtaking views of turquoise water and the little sandy Graciosa. Beautiful beaches are everywhere and Graciosa has a lovely little yacht harbor in its only town. There are large portholes cut in the rock and winding staircases leading to other vistas. Descending the north side of the cone you can see our next destination, Los Jameos de Agua and the volcanic cuevas or caves that caught Manrique’s fancy. Los Jameos is a huge multi-use project. It contains an auditorium, a museum devoted to volcanic activity, restaurants, bars, a fabulous white swimming pool, a souvenir shop, picnicking facilities and a dance-floor adjacent to one of the underground pools, which contains a very rare species of blind white crab that is only found deep in the ocean. Driving back to the harbor we passed many small farms with law garden walls of lava rock. The walls were most often to guard against the sea winds but in some cases they were filled with soil to create platforms to raise the plantings. Some were very elegant with more decorative than useful plantings. Often the private home attached was built into the hillside virtually undetectable as a residence. It is this type of residency that the government is promoting, one that respects the landscape and the island’s heritage. I could live here as well.

Tenerife

Before the sun was fully up I could make out the outline of the Island of Tenerife. It is quite distinctive as Mt. Teide is the tallest peak in all of Spain. The island is much larger than I expected, literally filling the horizon. There is no sign of any other islands; I was expecting a short cruise through them before docking but that was apparently scrapped. As we near our pier the deep ravines cutting into the craggy jagged hillside are revealed with communities of different sized boxes piled one on top of the other all painted different colors. These are “villas” built over the years as vacation homes and some permanent ones. They used to be all concrete color but the Island official told everyone to paint them. They used to be built all willy-nilly with no regard for conformity, size, or design. I think they are very attractive. Now, however, they must be built “in an orderly fashion” so says the government. And build do they. I never saw so much new construction in one place in my life. Let me stop here and get something said right off. This is perhaps the most happening, attractive, clean, well-run, sophisticated place I have been. Do not hesitate for a moment to take a vacation here. You will not regret it. The temperature is perfect. It’s usually sunny. They have wonderful shops, beautiful old homes and municipal buildings [along the Rambla General Franco], parks, plazas and impressive new structures like the Opera House crated by Spains’s Santiago Calatrava [it looks like smaller version of the Sydney Opera House, by Danish architects Jorn Utzon and Ove Arup]. They just completed a huge underground parking garage, a new tram system with brightly colored cars and new above traffic and below ground pedestrian rights-of-way. Many of the shopping areas are “no cars allowed.” The harbor and piers are all very new. All the containers and cargo ships will move south. In just a few years this port will serve passengers only. There are well-marked paths with colored lines to lead you into town or to the Opera House or Plaza Espana. There are sparkling white late model taxis [most are wagons or hatchbacks] everywhere. They only let 5 on the pier at a time. The roads are brand new; the highways are wide and well marked. The streets all have street signs. There is traffic everywhere but it is orderly and courteous. I did not here a horn anywhere. Everyone is beautiful and friendly. Many speak English. The gelato/helado is top-notch. There is no garbage anywhere and no begging, indeed no street people. More roads and highways are being built everywhere Transportation between Islands is mostly by ferry and they are HUGE. The Fred. Olson line has giant hydrofoils. The fares are reasonable [15.40 Euros to Las Palmas on Gran Canaria]. Am I gushing too much? All of the Islands have airports now and inter-island flights are frequent and short. They do have strict baggage allowances on these smaller planes and it is much more costly than taking a ferry. You can even take ferry to Cadiz. You can buy anything you desire in the larger cities with department stores like El Corte Ingles put Macy’s to shame. The prices seem to me to be very reasonable. I am not used to shopping in foreign countries and I don’t generally shop for luxury items but the places I went into offered fine looking jewelry, shoes, handbags, handicrafts [embroidery, lace] and what all at prices that seemed, at the very least, fair. The south and east of the Island are dry with lots of cactus, vineyards, chaparral and exotic trees. The north end and the east are lush and green. The beaches are all black volcanic sand except for one “new” beach north of Santa Cruz where they brought in golden sand from Morocco. We don’t leave port until 9PM and I am tempted to go back into town I enjoyed it so. We sail for Lanzarote. Tonight we have the Philippine crew performance. We haven’t had internet access all day; Mt. Teide was in the way of the satellite. I just now got on.

Sea Legs

It is surprising how long it takes to acquire ones “sea legs.” I remember when I first had a boat in Berkeley that it took me a couple of months to get used to the lurching and grabbing for stability. Well, it’s been 10 days now and my legs hurt. Word of warning: always wear something with a minimum of support on your feet. We have not had anything that resembles rough seas but even the gentle rolling on a very calm day can catch you unawares as you are about to place your foot and the “ground” shifts. It’s as if you are living in a permanent earthquake. I can’t imagine what it’s like for some who gets seasick. Coupled with the close quarters double staircases and narrow passageways getting from one place to the next can be quite a workout. Due to my consumption of vast quantities of food I have vowed to take the stairs exclusively. The restaurant is on Deck 8 and I am on Deck 2. I probably get a better cardio-vascular workout on days when we are at sea than when we are in port.
Santa Cruz de Tenerife is our next port and it is Spain. The Euro is king. I haven’t checked on the exchange rate since I left; I hope it hasn’t gotten much worse. I plan to shop. Reading about Los Canarios I am struck by the diversity of landscape, climate, culture and population. It seems almost idylic. Seven large volcanic islands and many smaller ones are all within an hour or so of each other. All of them offer something very unique. Now I am not much of a nature lover as you all may know but most of you are and I would highly recommend studying the vacation possibilities of this archipelago.
I will give you my personal insights tomorrow.
We are apparently on a very busy shipping route. I have seen no less than a dozen ships today. I just got tomorrow schedule. The ship is exchanging at 0.59 Euro to the dollar… I will have to check on line to see if they are gouging or not. That means 1 Euro is $1.69; it was $1.59 when I left two weeks ago. Just checked on-line the Euro is at $1.58. I am sure there are fees attached if one uses an ATM or Credit Card. I still have a good supply of cash as there was nowhere to spend it so far.
We arrive at noon tomorrow, but we will be sailing through the Islands so it should be very picaresque.

Dakar

We are already docked when I make it to the deck. It is 6AM and the sun is not yet up. We are backed into a dock alongside of two very large grey naval vessels. They are flying a red and white flag. There is another naval craft behind us. It has the drop front for landing wheeled vehicles on a beach. It is from the States. There are about a half dozen camouflaged GIs aboard. I could still make them out, as the boat is all grey.
Dakar is a vast metropolis with an enormous port.
The name comes from the Wolof “daxar” [da-kahahr], the tamarind tree that used to line the shores. They believe that this coastal region has been inhabited [by humans] for 150,000 years. Islam arrived as early as the 8th Century establishing the thriving Muslim trading industry. Europeans didn’t settle here until 1400 or so. The present population is about 3 million [Senegal has a total of over 11 million]. A remarkable statistic is that 42% of the population is under 15 years old! I will be spending my day at the Isle de Goree. This is a UNESCO World Heritage Site and we will be there for about 3 hours. We have a private ferry to take us there. Attire is long trousers and long sleeve shirts to protect against mosquitoes and to allow for entrance to a mosque or other holy places.
We left the ship at 9:15AM and boarded a private ferry and headed out on our 20-minute ride. The Island is visible from the ship but as we approach it appears very different than what one might expect considering its horrible history. My first impression is that it looks like it should be in Mediterranean, maybe Italy. There is a doughnut shaped fort at one end and there is a rise at the other topped by some sort of tower. As the buildings come into focus you see soft terracotta, rich russets, yellow ochre, and white accented with aqua, turquoise and multiple shades of green. There are many trees and small sandy beaches. The ferry rounds the fort and comes to a stop on one of the two piers that serve the small cove. Our first visit is the Maison des Esclaves [Slave House]. The Exterior is a bright butter yellow with a sea green accent [the doors and shutters]. The door is opened to a pinkish-rust interior with the same blue-green doors and shutters. The architectural fascination falls away when you realize where you are actually standing. This is a small building with maybe 10 rooms on the ground floor. Most of them are cells approximately 10 feet square. As many as 200 slaves were kept here at any given time allowed outside once a day to relieve themselves and once a day to eat. If the males weighed less than 60 kilos they were fattened like cattle. The New World traders would not accept anyone that weighed less. The women were rated by the size and firmness of their breasts. The children were kept with the women who were separated from the men especially if they appeared to be coupled. Many died there and were thrown into the sea. The merchant families lived on the upper floor, which is accessed by a rather elegant curved staircase. The curator of the building gave us a very impassioned account [in French] of what went on at the Maison des Esclaves over the centuries. Our guide, Amadou, gave an English translation. There was a donation box for the maintenance of the facility. I watched as most ignored it as they left.
The town is filled with secluded allies and homes, some so charming that you again forget where you are. The beach by the pier is lined with restaurants and bars and I understand there are several hotels. There are many merchants selling jewelry, art, crafts and clothing. When we are about to leave we encounter an Islamic wedding ceremony where everyone is dressed in white and singing. I was left with a bizarre comfort. You can’t help but find the island charming but knowing what went on there…
We are leaving port now; it is 4:30PM and the sea is quite calm. We are headed for the Canary Islands but will be one day at sea before we arrive. Our clocks are to be advanced one last time. Tomorrow morning I will be 8 hours ahead of you, in the same time zone as London and Paris.

The Gambia

Approaching Banjul in a heavy haze, we see a few pirogues out in the deep-water channel. We have to skirt an extensive sandbank, a shallows that parallels the beaches before we can swing into the pier and disembark. The pirogues look to be about 30 feet long, some with a half-round shelter toward the aft. They each have at least a half dozen people on them. Are they fishing? Are they going to Barra across the river? The pirogue has a very interesting construction. The base is the hollowed out trunk of a kapok tree. The spongy wood is left out in the rainy season to absorb water, sometimes for as long as 8 months after which it can be beaten straight to form the base of the boat. The sides are built up with other harder planks which are coated with tar. When the boat reaches the end of it s life the base can be reused several more times.
The first thing you see on the Banjul skyline is the “Arch22” built to commemorate the 1994 coup that put Yahya Jammeh in power. Nearby are the two minarets from the Jammeh/Saud Mosque. As we swing into the pier we can see the beaches and fishing pirogues. Next to our pier is the ferryboat landing. They go up and down the coast and across to Barra. They are so completely loaded when they leave all that comes to mind are stories of ferry disasters. I won’t be taking one.
Our tour starts with the aforementioned mosque. It is not particularly impressive and like just about every building we have seen it looks more like a movie set construction. There is no attention to detail, no architectural flair; it looks like it was done on the cheap. The same goes for the Arch. It could have been impressive; four gigantic Ionic columns support the massive peaked roof. But when you get up close it looks like it is covered with thick, cheap yellow paint with sand mixed in. The city is very poor; it is criss-crossed with open sewer ditches and rubble everywhere. We are told that much of the commerce is leaving Banjul for Serekunda in the middle of the island.
Our next stop is the Kachikaly Crocodile Pool. This is a “holy” place, which has been given over to the tourist trade. Barren women would come here to pray and perhaps pet the crocodiles who are kept lazy and overfed so they will put up with people posing with them. I wonder if it actually was once holy or if a clever tourism official thought that instilling it with this animist legend would make it more appealing. The crocodile is said to be a fertility agent and apparently has had some success. There are many children in Bakau Village named Kachikaly. It’s not easy to get to either. The tour busses are too big to get down the narrow streets so we stopped in downtown Bakau and walked for about ten minutes to the sight. It was my favorite part of the tour. Apparently cruise ships don’t dock here very often so the marketing potential brings everyone out of the woodwork. And they all dress in their best. I could not find a single CD store!!!
From Bakau we headed into Serekunda, bigger than Banjul, it doesn’t seem to be faring much better. Located smack dab in the middle of the island, they did have an upscale neighborhood where the wealthy and near-wealthy live in nicer homes and have better shopping. We went to what was billed as a batik factory that turned out to be a compound of homes and stalls selling batiks, jewelry and carvings. Our tour guide, Dou-Doo must have had an interest there. The last stop was the National Museum in Banjul which should be shut down as an embarrassment. Perhaps I am being a little callous. The municipality apparently has very little resources, so, maintaining this collection of memorabilia is probably well down on the list of priorities. Still they would be better off storing the exhibits until the time when they could display them properly, especially the dress worn by Miss Gambia in 1984.
We returned to the ship and a crafts market appeared at the gangplank. Simon, the tech guy on the ship said he watched at the gate after all the tours left and the merchants showed up, paid the gate guard some baksheesh [bribe] and were let in. I succumbed and bought 3 African-style batik shirts. They probably won’t fit. If they do they will then shrink with the first washing and there goes my … it wasn’t a lot, really. I know how to barter, really.
We left the port at about 4:30 and headed for Dakar. Nothing looks particularly interesting on the entertainment front this evening so I guess it’s beddy-bye time for Mikey.

Crossing Day 3

Today was boring, beautiful cloudless sky, glorious sun, calm seas and boring. I must have fallen asleep a dozen times. I spent a couple of hours at the Lido pool, read in the library for a couple of hours, agonized over what to have for lunch followed up by a Pina Colada in the Crow’s Nest. I have decided to forgo dinner this evening and I don’t want to see the “variety” show featuring two of the previous three performers. But I must stay awake because tonight we have the Indonesian Staff’s Gala Show at 10:30. We are in another time zone, too; I am now ahead by 7 hours. I think Gambia will be another change but the last until I return to Rio. One bit of excitement was seeing dolphins and flying fish.

American Music

Crossing day 2 is almost over. When I returned to my stateroom I found my “official shellback” certificate. I have successfully crossed the equator and shed my pollywog status. It’s a nice 8x10 printed on a blue-grey stock suitable for framing!
Our theatre performance tonight was a magician. He was a mediocre performer who did a little too much running/dancing [?] around to disguise his sleight of hand. I fear he is doomed to perform in second-rate gambling clubs and on cruise ships [that might not be so bad].
It’s now 8AM on our 3rd crossing day. Everyone has slept in. I am sitting in the Lido having breakfast and there are only about a dozen others. Was there a party last night? The pool is choppier than the sea. It is a very cleaver design, the pool. It has a series of platforms that overhang the previous one that contain the waves in the pool. I don’t know why the hot-tubs don’t react to the roll of the ship; they never seem to have waves.
One more day at sea and then we dock at Banjul, The Gambia. I am very excited about setting foot in Africa particularly Senegal & Gambia where so much of our American musical culture was born. I am not downplaying the horrible consequences of what went on here and both Senegal and The Gambia have done remarkable jobs in researching, archiving and presenting this great lapse in human sanity. There was slave trade in Africa before the Europeans took over and it doesn’t diminish the fact that it was inhuman even on a small scale, but to compare the two is like comparing a guy who makes his own moonshine to BevMo. Between the 16th and 19th century some 20 million Africans were captured as slaves. Perhaps half that number died on route and nearly half that number died within a few years. The survivors, the strongest, most resilient Africans in North and South America tried to maintain aspects of their cultures through chant, storytelling, dance and drumming. This became the basis for the Blues, Samba, Ragtime, Bossa Nova, Boogie-woogie, Salsa, Jazz, Merengue, R&B, Mambo, Soul, Rumba, Rap, Hip-Hop…American Music. The Afro-Cuban rhythms that have permeated our music for over a century have made their way back to Africa. I just read that throughout the Senegambia there are “Cuban” style music scenes, reinventing that hybrid once more. I hope to discover some of this music in my next two stops. I hope they have a “Chuck & Edna Boyle’s Music CD Emporium” there. One stop shopping is the way to go.

What I lost

I have been informed that Michel Buble’ IS a lounge act.

Bring extra caps/hats. It is so humid and downright hot sometimes that you will remove your hat to wipe your brow or while you are eating or when you go into a building sightseeing. I have lost two already. I know I misplace or lose stuff more times than most [I can hear some of you laughing] but I am relating this only because you do not want to be without a hat! So it’s two down and two to go. I can always buy one.
There is a lot of theft in Rio, Salvador and Recife [not in Maceio] but the tales I have heard so far on this cruise are about those people I was talking about in the lifeboat drill. Everyday it is emphasized that it is foolhardy to wear jewelry when ashore. I think it is also, in these cases, rude. The people who were robbed had “very expensive” gold and bejeweled necklaces torn from their necks. Really!?

Interiors I

I am going to set out to photograph the ship today. There is so much art, unusual interiors and just plain strange stuff that I think it will be fun. I am sitting in the Library, which is an extension of the “Explorations Café” where the internet is king. We have fawn-colored calf’s leather Eames loungers with ottomans, huge over-stuffed sofas and easy chairs in rich soft red leather. Hell everything is leather. The ship is outfitted in classic modern furniture, most of it very comfortable. There are 8 desktop computers with posh leather desk chairs and a selection of laptops/notebooks for rent. The sad thing is there are only 3 electrical outlets in the entire café/library so it’s wise to charge your laptop overnight in your stateroom. The bookshelves all have bronze cages to keep the books in place. The paneled interior is of a variety of light woods [oak, ash etc] and heavily figured walnut and other burl-like veneers. The far end of the library has gold accented red leather walls with fawn and red leather furniture. In the middle room where I am now there’s a big scrabble table and a large table covered with turquoise baize for making jigsaw puzzles. There are also 4 small DVD players [like on planes] if you wish to watch a movie in the comfort of an Eames chair. Of course you always have the sea to watch.

Just outside the Café is a small lobby with Chinese terra cotta figures including a horse. They are reproductions of the Xian figures. Artistically just about all cultures are represented throughout the ship. There is a large ebonized Italian cabinet with an inlaid wood interior of columns and doors revealing more spaces and scenes. There are two Chinese scrolls of ferocious looking warriors [life size.] In one of the elevator lobbies you will find a small display of small stucco Buddha heads form the 3rd and 4th century. There is a magnificent French tapestry of some royal-types sitting around a table eating or playing a game or deciding the fate of their minions or eating AND playing a game, which decides the fate of their minions.

Throughout the ship are paintings and classical posters of past Rotterdams and other Holland-America subjects. You have all seen the posters that were created from the late 19th through the 20th century. Perhaps the most influential and widely recognized images from the golden age of travel posters are those by Cassandre. These Art-Deco masterpieces are an influence even today.

Crossing Day 1

The first day of our Atlantic crossing is nearly over and it wasn’t too boring. There were enough activities scheduled that I could look forward to something throughout the day. After the Equator festivities I watched a movie “I Could Never be Your Woman,” a bit of fluff starring Michelle Pfeifer and the young girl from “Atonement” playing a hip L.A.
teenager with boy problems. A good performance, I think, by Paul Rudd. This was a “family” picture, visual muzak.
I think on my next cruise I will bring a suit. Last night I made arrangements with a couple of other guests to dine together but found out only after arriving at the restaurant that it was all formal, upstairs and down. The casual was in the Lido restaurant and just a buffet. I think the dress-up thing is fun occasionally and they take you picture all the time. And guess what; you can buy these pictures in the photo gallery the very next day! Ah, technology. They also take formal portraits every evening.
After an unsatisfying Beef Wellington, I moseyed over to the Queen’s Lounge where the Rotterdam singers and dancers were performing “On the Air” a musical review featuring the radio hits of the 50s, 60s and 70s. The songs were well chosen and the cast is quite talented. Their lead performer is “Billy,” a very handsome young man with a good range and a repertory of moves that suggest he has studied every crooner in the annals of popular music. Think Michel Buble’ as a lounge act.
I am still having trouble with this computer. Our tech expert, Simon Lewis from Wales, thinks it is an Airport problem [that’s the Mac wireless system for you PCers] and he is checking into a solution. The photos are another story! I’ll keep trying on that front. Trouble is, uploading them takes so long it eats up you minutes like a house on fire. I am already into my second 250minute block and I’ve only been on the boat 5 days. 12 to go. Once I get to the Canaries I will use internet cafés with Ethernet hookups. I have so many pictures I want to share. Oh, Yeah. We advanced another hour last night so I am 6 hours ahead right now.

Of Cars & King Neptune

First off I would like to thank one of my avid readers for clarifying my musings on the cars of Brazil. Fiat, Renault and Peugeot have not been available in the states for many years. No wonder they seemed strange. I am told that Fiat is planning a comeback but in the high-powered market only. I saw another strange one today that I can’t figure out. The emblem/logo is a trapezoid containing 4 or 5 parallel lines. Got any clues. I only saw them passing by the bus so I could not decipher the make. Also, Ford has a tiny little thing that doesn’t look much bigger than the Smart Car. Chevy’s got a toy, too, but it’s a bit bigger than the Ford.
We have now crossed the equator and Neptune has punished the various crew pollywogs. After kissing the fish they are covered in various fashionably pastel puddings and gelatins and then covered in flour. Then the Captain and his staff decide if they are thrown in the pool or have to sit in the sun while the goop gets stickier. The whole thing deteriorates into a massive free-for-all. You can then get your picture taken with Neptune and his fishwife. Now I have to choose my next activity. Will it be “Everything You Wanted to Know About Judaism, but Didn’t Have a Rabbi to Ask,” “Afternoon Team Trivia,” “English High Tea” or Food.

Art Lecture

9 April, we have crossed into a new time zone; I am now 5 hours ahead of Healdsburg and we are about to cross the equator. It is very overcast and it rained through the night. The sea is choppy but not at all uncomfortable. The temperature is 85F and it is very humid. I find it much easier to walk now. It does take some time to adjust your sense of balance to accommodate for the rolling even on very calm days. I think perhaps I planted my right foot to hard and too often and that’s what caused the flair-up. It’s much better now.
3 days at sea??? I looked at the schedule for today and aside from attending King Neptune’s court, the only things of interest are a lecture on the last 5 ports, an art lecture [I suspect it is part of the gallery sales program], the variety show this evening and of course FOOD!
How about I give a lecture?
The gallery/art sales/auctions aboard ship are really disappointing. I guess with a captive audience you can do as you please, but promoting this stuff as “collectible” and “likely to increase greatly in value” falls just short of fraud. Professionally [I was in the art business for about 15 years] I watched the legitimate sale of original artists prints [etchings, lithographs, silk-screens etc.] deteriorate to a “used car salesman” mentality in a matter of two or three years. We are not talking about unknowns either. Calder and Dali were the first to show this loss of integrity. Their respective families and handlers saw an opportunity when these artists were on their deathbeds and were virtually unable to resist. There hands were made to hold pencils while the agents of greed [including immediate family] moved them to make a signature on stacks and stacks of blank art paper. The images were to be added later. Speculation was that there were tens of thousands of sheet “signed by the artist” and stored for future editions. Then there was the “signed in the stone/plate” scam that involved the artist signing the original piece that was to be reproduced and then never again having anything to do with it. Aside from some archival consideration this was little more that Xeroxing. We also saw the “strictly limited edition” label that simply meant that when sales slowed down they would destroy or deface the plate/stone/screen. The edition could run into the thousands. This also included the “artist’s edition” pieces. Prints designated “E.A.” were traditionally the first pulls of the piece and were reserved for the artist’s own use. They were much valued because they were done when the plate was fresh. Now it is merely a means of running more of an edition while claiming it to be limited to “500.”
Not all artists are guilty of this type of marketing but it is the rule, not the exception.
When buying an “original” piece of art, especially a “reproduction” like a silk-screen, etching etc. ask very specific questions and get documentation to the effect that the artist did, in fact, sign the very paper that the image is on and signed it after the piece was pulled and signed it without the help of others in the case of infirmity. Always inquire as to the number of images pulled including “E.A.” Editions over 500 are considered excessive. “Open” editions show a disregard for the medium. “Open” editions are numbered in succession without the total number being established until the sales dwindle. An “Open” edition can and often does run into the thousands and tens of thousands. Many popular contemporary artists and I am using that term very loosely, create a body of work akin to The Franklin Mint type of collectible. Salesmen will tell you that earlier pieces by their artists now command extraordinary premiums so buy this one and in a few years you will have a retirement fund. Have you ever tried to resell a Franklin Mint piece for the original market value? Not even on eBay. So if you must own a Thomas Kincaid, buy an original oil or acrylic or whatever medium he uses, one that he created with his own hand and signed with his own hand. The rest of his line are overpriced copies and photographic copies too. There is a process known as photolithography which involves a photo reproduction transferred to the artist’s plate or stone. If you must have a specific image find a nice poster and have that framed. If you must have the artist’s signature, get his autograph as it’s worth just about as much as if it were affixed to his work. And don’t show me a “certificate of authenticity.” If you are offered or want a certificate of authenticity you are probably dealing with someone who should not be called an art dealer.
Sorry, my lecture turned into a rant and a long one.

Brennand

Francisco Brennand is Brazil’s greatest ceramic sculptor. Born in 1927 of a ceramic tile maker of Irish heritage. Francisco inherited the old tile works when his father died and started building his garden/museum. It is located in the northwest end of the city in a hilly jungle park. You drive out Av. Caxanga, a wide very straight boulevard w/ a median divider, which used to be the old trolley system. The Oficina Brennand is a complex of new and old buildings, temples, workshops, plazas, monuments, galleries, a theatre and a small restaurant. Brennand’s work is first surreal but draws heavily from Cubist, naïf/primitive, and modern schools. The grounds are covered with helmeted busts, sea serpents, long-necked horse heads, eggs birthing snakes and vultures, and satirical figures. All ceramic they are displayed on tiled walls and around bizarre fountains. You can wander for hours and not see everything. The gallery houses several hundred of his drawings and paintings the majority of which reflect his interest in prostitutes. As you drive up to the site you pass through an area of small hourly hotels with names like Love Nest, Casa de Amour and Ninja Motel [???]. A room can be had for 8.90 Reals or about $5.00 for an hour. I suspect Francisco was not at a loss for subjects. The painting and drawings of the girls are very erotic and reminiscent of Grosz, Picasso, Degas and Toulouse Lautrec.
We had another lounge act tonight, kind of Liberace without hair and hetero jokes. He wasn’t bad but he did use the same joke as the guy the other night. And they know each other and work together sometimes. We cross the equator tomorrow and I will no longer be a pollywog. Night, night.

Recife

At first light [about 5:30AM] the entire horizon is high-rise hotels not unlike the Pacific beachfront in Rio. You do not see any old buildings. No churches. Recife is flat; indeed some of it is below sea level. We are docking under a double rainbow that’s been there for almost an hour and only now beginning to fade. We side up to giant white silos that look long out of use. CEAGEPE [?] is stenciled large on several of the flat surfaces. Behind the silos is a double Quonset-type “hanger” belonging to SINDACUCAR. We are never out of sight of the sugar industry. H.Stern tents greet us at the gangplank. We are never out of sight of the jewelry industry. Our bus took us to the center of Old Recife where we visited a Franciscan Museum and the Golden Chapel. I did get a shot of the Crucifix inside the chapel but we were told not to photograph. The interior is carved and gilded and vary dark. There is a side chapel one can see through an ornate iron grate. Some type of catechism was being taught there [poor unsuspecting kids!]. The rest of the museum had tableaux of the life of St. Francis of Assisi. The mannequins are old and virtuous. They are dressed in real clothes. Many are very out of scale as if they were throw-aways from department stores and regardless of the “age” [child, teen, adult] they were painted to look like adults. It was a sad looking collection trying to be maintained on a shoestring budget. We then went to Republic Square to photograph some wonderful old public and govt. buildings. Charming statues of the muses ringed the fountain at the center of the square. In one corner was a good size Baobab tree with some remaining blossoms and fruit. Our next stop was the 5-Cornered Fort, which also housed the city museum. This was fun. They had a blown up aerial photo of the city to give you a good sense of where you were and then there were rooms containing artifacts from the various periods of Recife’s history. The most interesting were the old Dutch blue & white ceramics, early glass bricks and colorful tiles. The Fort is whitewashed so when you are outside you feel like you are in a solar oven. It was only about 90 degrees but the humidity was a killer. I don’t know how some of the older folk do it. Next stop Oficina Brennand.

I could live here.

When I stepped out on the deck I was startled by green of the sea. It was translucent and refracted like a peridot. [Oh, Michael, you’re so poetic.] There was a white line on the horizon and just above these beaches were green hills, cliffs, occasional towns and yacht harbors. I have been under the impression that Maceio was a small sleepy village. Not so; it is a huge city of some 800,000 souls. It’s the capital of Brazil’s tiny Algoas state. It is a fairly new city; there are old buildings but you see many more modern ones. There are SPECTACULAR beaches, the best I’ve seen. They stretch endlessly north of the harbor. The beachfront has many very nice hotels and apartment houses all looking very upscale. It’s a place for Brazilians to vacation so other than 30 tour busses from the occasional ship you see very few non-natives. It is very reasonable to live here, too. You can rent a very nice 3 bedroom flat for $300. The temperature rarely drops below 75F and it doesn’t rain too much. There are simply no seasons. I could live here! There are lovely modern shopping centers one of which was recently bought by Wal-Mart but they can’t change the name for 5 years. They have a very progressive local government and a lot is being done to restore and preserve the older buildings as well as cleaning up the polluted river to make the area more attractive for new residents. They have 2 enormous businesses there that employ thousands so they need to beef up their work force. There is a joke that says the locals are so laid back and stress free that it takes 5 months to die suddenly. I could live here.

Maceio and My Birthday

Well, I finally was successful in sending a couple of photos via e-mail but I am having trouble uploading them to the photo sites. Hopefully, what does get out there will be shared. I will continue to work on it although I have already used up most of my 250 minutes I bought on the 4th.
Well it’s the 7th and we are going to Maceio, Brazil. I am in the middle of the greatest 60th Birthday present ever! I am now 61 years old. Happy Birthday, Rick; Happy Birthday, Kathy. And thank you to all my incredibly generous friends.
Last night the live show was very good. Paul Emanuel from the UK performed old standards…It’s always OLD standards. The highlight was his tribute to Nat King Cole. He has a remarkably similar voice. I’ll post again once we return from our excursion.

Salvador de Bahia

It was hot and extremely humid when we left the ship this morning about 9AM. I did not sign up for an excursion [a mistake, in retrospect] so I set off down the road toward the Mercado Modelo and the Elevador Lacerda. The elevator has 2 cars that go up and down all day on the condition that they are near full or no one else is in sight. They have attendants so you can’t mess with the controls. It moves very quickly and you are released out of the back of the car. The building is on a large plaza inhabited by every type of barker vendor, huckster, cabby and the like. Then there are the Bahianas, the women of Candomble. Their beauty is magical. They come rushing toward you with their enormous balloon skirts and colorful headdresses and beads. Their arms are outstretched ready to embrace you if you don’t resist. Then you pay them for someone taking your picture. I don’t know if they actually practice Candomble but they must be there on the plaza whenever a boat docks. There must have been 30 or so moving from plaza to plaza [Bahia has a plaza on every other corner and anywhere from 1 to 6 churches on each] incase you want a picture with one of them in a different vista.
Then it started to rain, really rain, that warm heavy tropical rain without wind. Everyone ran for the churches for shelter [sanctuary?]; I stayed out in the rain and got soaked to my skin. I hope I can get some photos out there as the Ciudade Alto is remarkably colorful and architecturally diverse. I headed back to the ship as I fear I may be suffering from plantar’s faciaitis again. I didn’t put my insoles in my walking shoes. I hope that’s not what it is but just to be safe I signed up for a few bus tours instead of footing it everywhere. Better coddle it to see what develops.
Back at the ship I went up to the hot tub and soaked my feet for a while. It was nice to have the ship to myself [and a few others].
FYI: The self-serve laundromat costs $2.00 per load. You can only use their soap [it’s free] as they have strict rules about what they can put back into the environment]. The dryers are $1.00 per ½ hour. They provide an ironing board and irons for passenger use.
There will be more on the Ciudade Alto after I download the pictures. Wish you were all here with me.

Theatre Critic

The Queen’s Lounge is a traditional nightclub setting with cocktail tables three deep around the stage and plush loveseat tiers behind. The balcony has it’s own bar. The first program of the cruise was “Unforgettable” …in title only. It was a nice collection of songs from the 50s [maybe into the 60s] sung by four adorable youngsters who might have a grandparent old enough to remember. The band was mediocre and appeared not particularly happy in their lot. There was one costume change and occasional backup singers who lent nothing to the performance. I will admit I am very jaded musically and am probably being a bit harsh but how else do you establish yourself as the next great theatre critic if you don’t trash everyone. It was all very proper, nice, polished and sweet. Not a trace of “blue” humor or racy costumes. It was less than an hour in length but I can see it again in another hour. I need drink