We made it! After 4835 nautical miles we arrived in Cadiz, Spain, to a beautiful sunrise. We couldn’t depart the ship until 11:30, though. Had to wait for our excursion time to come up. So while we were waiting, we took a walk up to the top deck to establish where we needed to be come 11:00 pm. That’s when the captain estimated that we would be sliding through the Strait of Gibraltar, with Spain on one side and Africa on the other. Chris was really excited about that one.
Our excursion in Cádiz was a walking tour of the city. More specifically, the historical points of interest. For some reason it was billed as a National Geographic tour. Well, walk we did. 11,000 plus steps on my counter. And remember how we have been miserable with the rainy, cold weather? Those days are gone. It was bright and sunshiny. And it was hot. The temperature gauge read 64. I think it was a little crazy.
And thus begins the saga of … The Great Collapse.
Our tour guide really knew her stuff. And she was nothing short of passionate about it. Her accent made it particularly difficult to follow everything she said, but we definitely got a mega-dose of Spanish history (from the Phoenician perspective - she had Phoenician roots).
She explained that the three flags flying over the city were the Spanish flag, the Andalusian flag (a region or state), and the Hercules flag. Yep. It has an actual image of Hercules. That one is the Phoenician flag. Again … a nod to heritage.
Now that passion proved to be a bit of a problem. As she strolled down one of the city’s cobblestone streets, intent on explaining something or other about one of the basilicas, it happened. No warning at all. In fact the vast majority of the group followed happily along behind her. All, that is, except for one.
Yep. There was one who just couldn’t quite make it around the corner. And as if in slow motion, the cobblestone streets became a cobblestone cot. A flurry of motion broke out. Something sweet to eat. Some water. A wet cloth. Three nurses to check a pulse. Decisions. Ambulance? Taxi back to the ship? Stand up? Sit down? Continue? Has it happened before?
Phew! The decision was finally made to call a cab and return the one who passed out to the ship.
Oh. Did I fail to mention?
It was not me. And … it was not Chris. It was one of the other old dudes.
Now there was one place where we were waiting to look at some ruins under the city when Chris did have a pressing need to have a seat in the street. Scared our tour guide to death. Not two collapses in one tour! Chris had a power bar and a minute or two to rest, and she was ready to go.
We were dead tired when we got back to the ship. At least I was. I could barely keep my eyes open. And that 11 p.m. date with Africa (aka the Straits of Gibraltar) was still looming …
To help us stay awake, we went to the evening show. It was called “Columbus the Musical.” Pretty much a comedy with Monty Python vibes. They had some
Technical issues. Apparently they couldn’t get the huge Columbus-era ship (pretty much the only set) to spin around. And when it finally started spinning, they couldn’t get it to stop on the right place. Weird. It finally righted itself, with the help of the tech crew, of course. And the grand finale was worth the wait. Goofy show. Great talent.
After the show we went up to the deck as far at the front of the ship as we could. The captain announced that our ETA for heading through the Straits of Gibraltar had been moved up to around 9:30. We grabbed a window and held our ground. Oh. Remember that cold that was missing all morning in Cádiz? It came back.
Psalms 3:3 says, But You, Lord, are a shield around me, my glory, and the One who lifts up my head.
Father, thank you for some dry land. Sure have missed it. Amen.
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