Vigo,Vigo,Vigo,

just when I said I forgave you all your ugliness and much of a muchness after I found in the Port shopping centre just by the escalators [opposite the Jamaica coffee shop] the best,absolutely the best nutty biscuits in the world,you go and spoil it all by providing in the same shopping centre the dirtiest,smelliest,most unpleasant toilets I have ever come across in Spain.Broken door handle, broken door lock,overflowing bin, no soap,no hot water,the whole miserable looking area in need of total refurbishment,The revenue daily cruise ships bring into the town is astronomical.Where does it all go? Why don't the authorities take pride in the way their town is presented to then public? And why do not the cruise ship companies insist the areas the guests from ships use are kept immaculately clean, after all it is from these disgusting public places norovirus is brought on board.

I first visited Gibraltar many moons ago on one of my many honeymoons

my one husband had taken me on. We did not have a honeymoon when we got married so when we had settled into a married life my husband would say now and then-let's go on a honeymoon. The first one was in Rome,the second in Istanbul,or was it the other way round,it was all so very long time ago. Each and every one wonderful,each and every one with some very special memories. In Gibraltar we stayed at the then exclusive Rock hotel,where at the time of our visit John Dankworth [the musician] and Cleo Laine [the singer], had stayed.I knew instantly who they were,she of the most distinctive hair and I also loved their music.Not only had they stayed at the hotel the time we did,they also flew back to London on our flight and like my husband and I they were selected for a thorough search at the airport.When the four of us were singled out we all looked at each other,smiled,shrugged shoulders and resigned ourselves to the search. Why they? Probably the exotic way the lovely Cleo looked had a lot to do with it. Why my husband and I? My husband used to walk everywhere. He never took any transport if he could walk.And walk we did.We used our feet to get to know the whole of Gibraltar.I remember the water being on our right, the mainland on the left, after a good mile we came to an unmanned soldier's post,we continued and came to the end of the road with a massive opening into the rock ahead of us.Inside was a hive of activity,small cars,big cars,heavy machinery.We walked about enthralled, and when we got totally and completely lost I walked up to a nice man and asked for the way out.He looked at us in amazement wanting to know who were were. I explained. How did you get here,he exclaimed.I explained.There was no-one at the gate,he asked with incredulity.No,no-one.I knew in my youthful innocence-my husband always said laughing that for a "little girl from the sticks I always learnt fast"- that the matter of us getting lost in this strangest of strange places was getting to be curioser and curioser.Please come with me,said the man and we walked to a kind of shed-like structure with a window.The man went inside while we stood patiently outside.I could hear a phone call being made and two soldiers in a kind of mini-moke drove towards us.They indicated we should get onto the seats behind and we did and were driven to another shed only a much bigger one. Many more questions followed,many more answers were given.My camera was confiscated,I was told the film would be developed and the camera and photographs returned to me. We were then driven out into the daylight and continued the sightseeing.When we returned to the hotel I knew instantly our luggage had been gone through, nothing was as I left it.I am immaculately clean and tidy,know where and how I leave every single item wherever I am.The camera and the photos were left at the reception the next day.I had no doubt whatsoever we were searched at the airport with a tooth comb because of the incident. We had inadvertently strolled into a British military base and because I am from Slovakia, then a communist country, we were regarded with suspicion, and quite rightly so. But once they had developed the film they could only see a small monkey,a bigger monkey, a monkey bigger still.

19 March 2018,Gibraltar

The Port. The free wi-fi zone next to the toilets. The toilets immaculate,the smell pleasant,all electric fixtures and fittings work as work they should, the heater dries hands to perfection. If the Port authorities in Gibraltar take pride in how they present their town to foreigners, why can't the Port authorities in the city of Cadiz in Spain?

Still in Cadiz,

should have sailed for Gibraltar at 18.30,but a technical hick-up had put paid to that,not that it makes the slightest difference to any-one on board,only extra work and worry for the captain and his team.As the problem is underneath the ship divers had been commissioned and the Lloyds man called [I presume Lloyds the insurance underwriters are involved].The problem has been dealt with and soon the engine should be fired up again,the propellers started.All is dead quiet still and it is almost midnight. So much time spent in Cadiz with so little to show for it thanks to the weather.Oh,we did go out again in the afternoon when the rain had stopped and the sun popped out, but it was a short walk to the nearest little square,everything was closed except some coffee shops and restaurants,as the Spaniards are religious people. We bought some sweets for the children then walked back and sat down in the "free wi-fi" area.It is next to the toilets in the arrival hall and in the departure hall,too.The stench of urine coming from the toilets was utterly disgusting and sickening. The Spaniards do not care about what the foreigners think and feel sitting next to the repugnant stench,this indifference is beyond belief.Is there no-one in charge of the port, no-one controlling what is going on there,if it is clean and decent for people to use. God knows we bring enough revenue to the town.

"The cup of silver"

as Cadiz has been nicknamed due to the glittering ripples of the sea it may be, but my cup of tea it ain't. The hopes were high,but never have I been happier not to have booked a tour than today. Grade four hurricane all night.Winds and gales never worry me on P & O ships,in fact on any ship to date,they all had stabilisers, except the infernal Columbus that should never have been allowed to cross the Atlantic,the stabilisers ensure we are rocked and rolled to the minimum,even though at the time it does not seem so.But rain without respite is something else.And this morning we had the something else.We went into the terminal to take the advantage of free wi-fi [in fact my sister only, I buy the daily package on board],at times the falling rain sounded like a plane raring to ascend.Still, well covered we decided to venture outside.Big mistake.The pavements and the sides of the streets were swimming in water,soon my shoes were soaking wet and I said enough, I am going back.My sister joined me. As it was almost 1, we stopped in the Ligurian for lunch.Avocado and a tomato on warm toast,delicious, my favourite starter to date,corn soup,very nice,stewed beef,cabbage and a dumpling very pleasant, but had the dumpling been bigger and the piece of beef smaller,I would have been happier.The waiter came back to take the dessert order.We chose the walnut gateau with a mandarin and coffee.When the plate was placed in front of me I realised it was my favourite cake at sea to date.I had it three years ago at Christmas and have been singing praises of the deliciousness of this light as feather concoction since.My sister was not as impressed, but then she consumes masses and masses of cakes, biscuits,tarts and gateaux.With four grandchildren to bake for, her two daughters in law compete in coming up with the most extravagant creations. So I am now in my cabin nursing a cup of hot lemon wate.I may be on the way to a chest infection.Several nights ago my throat began to hurt,so in Cartagena I picked up Notus Antitusivo pastils,I take them religiously and am hoping to avoid a visit to a doctor.Bad luck getting this on board of a ship, but then worse things happen. My sister is on the top deck taking photographs and we are hoping it will stop raining and we will be able to go out for a walk again. We sail at 18.30 for Gibraltar.

17 March 2018,Malaga

The weather from the beginning of this cruise to the present day has been atrocious. Having learnt that one has to be quick in taking the advantage of the sun when it pops out,we took the shuttle bus [free]the moment the ship was ready,because the morning had the best chance of being dry,if not sunny. There were several horse carriages waiting for the tourists and on the spur of the moment I said to my sister - let's go on one, and in no time the old coachman was taking us through the clean streets of the city,not a single graffiti in sight, giving us a running commentary is Spanish.That neither my sister nor myself speak the language made not the slightest difference,we understood each other completely and almost an hour later were happy to hand the 30 euros to this kind man with hands deformed by arthritis. Both my sister and I agreed that Malaga beyond the beach is beautiful.There was not a single building we did not like,be it the Town Hall, the University,the most impressive Gibralfaro Castle,the Arabic Fortress of Alcazaba.We could have taken a ferry to Morocco,but there just was not the time.Instead we took a leisurely walk in the Botanical gardens and around the Pompidou Museum.And then we came across the most beautiful shop called Bosaroni with furnishings for the house.There was a woven basket so gorgeous I knew I had to have it,and some wonderfully smelling hand made soap.Next to the Bosaroni was a coffee shop and the cakes in the window were most inciting.The room was only half full,but there was nowhere to sit, several tables were uncleared,laden with dirty cups and saucers.The morose long faced young waitresses grudgingly cleared them and took our order.Had it not been for the fact that it started to rain, we would have walked out.Never in my entire life have I been served by waitresses so unpleasant, unfriendly, utterly obnoxious,barking even at old people,not a hint of a smile on their faces. Black coffee was brought in a cup and hot milk poured into it in front of me.That was "latte".It was good.The cakes were delicious.I asked what the name of the cakes was but got no answer, just a long stare that said - why are you here, why are you bothering me,why don't you shut up. It is very rare that I do not leave a single cent of a tip.This was one of those times.

16 March 2018,Cartagena

Cartagena is a naval base in the Murcia region of Spain This was my first visit to the city.Having absolutely loved the Cartagena of Colombia,I could not wait to discover this Spanish naval port. On paper it was all there - the city was founded around 220 B.C.,one could see the remains of The Punic Wall [The Muralla Punica],which dates to the 3rd century B.C.,but it is just a wall and I have seen many walls just as old before,The Casa de la Fortuna with its mosaics and murals is beautiful,but I have seen casas much more beautiful.There is the Roman Theatre built in the 1st century B.C.,but once you have sat through a performance under the bluest of the blue skies in the warmest of the warm evenings in the Roman Theatre of Caesarea,Israel,built by Herod and painstakingly restored and brought to life,any other Roman theatre pales into insignificance. I have seen most Cartagena has to offer to a stranger and it has left me cold. Maybe it was the weather.It was very indifferent to me when I was in Cartagena and I had reciprocated.