Tomorrow Is Another Day...

And... The End

At long, long, long last, we reach the end of the trip recap.  We made an uneventful (and anticlimactic) journey from Malta back to the port of Barcelona, Spain.  We disembarked the ship before the sun had even thought about gracing us with its presence, and boarded our bus for a trip to the jagged peaks of Montserrat.
I promptly fell back asleep as we wound our way up the worrying narrow mountain roads, and when we eventually got to the site of the monastery, the sun had risen but the temperatures dropped.  We made our way to the cathedral, heads down into the sharp, blustery winds and spent the morning wandering through the chapels and the attached museum.  If you've read The Secret Life of Bees, you may recognize the "Black Madonna" pictured above.  There's plenty of lore attached to her arrival at the top of the mountain, but whatever the origin, she is a stunningly beautiful piece of art.  The surrounding opulence of gold, jewels, and filigree only serves to highlight her simple beauty.

We may not have made it to the pyramids, but the Monsastery museum had a lovely section of Egyptian artifacts including the requisite mummy.
We arrived back in Barcelona, near La Rambla, in the early afternoon and still had time for a lunch stop (Finally got in my international McDonald's visit!  I can check another country off of that list!) then went on to do a little walking tour of Barcelona, stopping off at the old Roman wall and Santa Maria del Mar.  We finished the day at the Picasso Museum, which had a lovely retrospective of his work from his first entry into an art competition which showed his talent as a painter of realism, through his blue and cubist phases, and finally into his ceramics.  We were lucky enough to be there at the same time as a Degas exhibit which compared the work of the two artists and prominently displayed my favorite, and probably the most well-known, Degas, Little Dancer, Age 14.
And, because bad things evidently really DO come in threes, we couldn't end our trip without one last teensy tinsy hiccup.  The complete and utter meltdown of a major international airport.  That long line of people shows just a fraction of the travelers who were affected by the terrible weather in London.  Thanks be to God, after our four hour wait (with nearly ended in fisticuffs), the lady who booked our new flight apologetically changed our itinerary from a London to an Atlanta connection.  And I swear, if it weren't for that woman, we would STILL be in Barcelona, trying to get home.

We stayed an extra day in the city, unfortunately wasting most of it in the horrible rebooking line, and dragged our poor, weary bones home 24 hours later than expected.  But at least we made it home.

Were I to be completely honest with you, I would say that I just can't recommend a European cruise.  We got to see a number of spectacular sights in a condensed amount of time, but if you are a traveler who revels in the feeling of immersing yourself in a new culture, you would be sorely disappointed.  Cruise food is not all its cracked up to be, and I would so much have rather had the nights in Greece or Malta or Sicily to wander the streets and enjoy the cuisine.  Instead, I felt more like we were on little field trips into each country, and I never really got the feel for each city as I would have liked.

Following our little "incident" in the port of Alexandria, many people have asked me if I would ever go on a cruise again.  And you know, I would.  I think the cruise atmosphere is perfect for the Caribbean.  But if you want to go to Europe, just pick a couple of countries, book some hotels and go there.  Get lost in the back alleys.  Take the wrong bus and end up somewhere you didn't know existed.  Order dinner in the local language.  Take advantage of the incredible train service available to you to whisk you from place to place.  

If you really want to experience a country, the sterilized version offered up by a cruise line isn't the way to do it.  It's a way to mark a country off your list, but in my opinion it's no way to see a country.

The Unsinkable Maltese Falcon

How could I have forgotten to include this bit of information in yesterday's post??  Check out the beautiful piece of art we discovered on the landing between the 5th and 6th decks while we were forced to climb about 30 flights of stairs per day due to the elevators being shut down during the horrible weather.  "They say this ship is unsinkable!"

I mean, seriously.  Even Kate is like, "Leo, shut the hell up!"Aaaaanyway.  When we finally docked in Malta, after three rough days at sea, stepping out onto dry land was one of the most incredible feelings in the world.  At first, we were a bit put off by the idea of staying in Malta for two days rather than one, just because we knew nothing about it as a country, but we all ended up falling in love with the beauty of this tiny, little known island.

Part of what was so fascinating about Malta was how it has taken its history of Roman, Arab, and British rule and fused it into its own completely unique culture.  The country only received its independence from the British following World War II, and they are so fiercely proud of their history and eventual independence. I've never been anywhere quite like it, and particularly fell in love with the tiny town of Mdina, the original capitol of the island.  We wandered the winding streets, visited St. Paul's Cathedral, and peeked into some of the many miniscule chapels that were scattered throughout the town.

We made our way back to the port city of Valletta where we first stopped at the Upper Barracca Gardens, overlooking the Mediterranean and the Naval Fort.  In the mid 1500s, the same Knights of St. John who built the English walled city of Rhodes, came to Malta and assisted in defending its people against the Turks.  Once the siege was over and the Knights were victorious, Jean Parisot de la Valette planned the city of Valletta, and noting the fact that fresh water was hard to come by in its dry climate, ensured that there was one very large garden to be shared by all of the residents.  Hence the Upper and Lower Barracca Gardens.  We then went to the National Museum of Archaeology which houses artifacts from stone structures older than the pyramids of Egypt, and St. John's Co-Cathedral where the famous Carravaggio, The Beheading of St. John the Baptist is hung in a chapel.

Our second day in Malta greeted us with grey skies and drizzling rains.  We waited as long as we could, hoping the weather would pass, then braved the day with umbrellas in hand.  We had a delicious lunch in the city, then made our way to the Casa Rocca Piccola, one of the few palazzos still remaining as a single family dwelling.  We even had the pleasure of meeting Marquis de Piro as he was setting out Christmas cards in his living room, and his wife the Marquisse who served us hot mulled wine!  My mom and I were then sucked into The Silversmith's Shop where we scooped up loads of stunningly beautiful silver jewelry for astoundingly low prices.

Unfortunately, shortly after that, as we were making our way back to the ship, my poor daddy BROKE HIS FOOT.  Yes, walking down the sidewalk, I suddenly heard a loud popping noise, thought he had stepped on a rock, but in actuality that was the sound of BONES BREAKING.  And we still had about 20 minutes of walking ahead of us, and not a single cab to be found. Remember how all the x-ray machines were broken in the storm? Yeah, when we tried to see the ship's doctor, we were told that if he thought his foot was broken, we'd be disembarked in Malta to receive medical care there. So, we decided his foot was not, in fact, broken.

We had one FINAL DESTINATION ahead of us when we returned to Barcelona, and still the Universe was not done having its sadistic way with us...

When Vacations Attack!

Up to the time on our trip when we left Rhodes, the whole vacation had been pretty magical.  The weather was beautiful--cool, but sunny--we'd seen amazing sights, and we were really enjoying the cruise experience.  Then, the rains came.  And near-hurricane force winds.The day after Rhodes was a day at sea as we made our way toward the port of Alexandria, Egypt.  The skies were a menacing grey, matching the swirling grey seas.  Colby and I had a room on the 3rd deck, and the waves, which on a typical day had been about 15 feet below our window, were now breaking over the top of the window on a regular basis.  On my parents 7th deck balcony room, the motion of the ship was so severe, that even Colby with his iron stomach couldn't handle more than a few minutes at a time without feeling sick.  At lunch in the cafeteria, stacks of plates and dishes from the bussing stations were tossed across the ship as the waves rocked us pretty violently a few times.  At dinner, a huge percentage of glassware was lost when there was another violent sway back and forth.  Still, we were assured that all was well, and we continued our progress toward Alexandria.Around 2 o'clock in the morning, I jerked upright in my bed, thinking I had heard a sharp crack of thunder.  I opened the curtains, and peered out to see the waves still breaking over our window, but didn't hear any more thunder or see lightning.  The ship, however, was still tossing violently.  Colby woke up and asked what was wrong.  As I was telling him, the ship suddenly began to groan, and before I could even finish talking, we felt as though the ship was capsizing.  Our bed rolled rapidly away from the wall, stopping when it hit the sofa, then rocketed back toward the window as the ship snapped back in the other direction, slamming us into the wall.  I was facing away from the window, but saw Colby's eyes widen.  I turned around and saw nothing but the dark grey and black of the cloudy sky, then suddenly we were listing back toward starboard and our window was plunged into the inky black sea.  At this point, I completely lost my fucking mind and descended into hysteria.  I was clinging to Colby like a spider monkey on ecstacy, and expecting a gush of water through our window at any moment as the ship continued to whip back and forth.

Honestly, this probably all took a total of maybe 4 or 5 minutes.  If that.  But it seemed like the longest moment of my life, and I honest to God believed that we were all going to die.  Eventually the violent listing stopped, and we sat rigidly where we had been tossed off the bed, onto the floor.  The first thing I did when I regained my faculties was locate the phone and try to call my parents.  Of course, they didn't answer, and Colby and I began tossing on boots and jackets, expecting any moment to be told that we were evacuating to a central area.  My dad called back, what seemed like hours, but was probably only minutes later, and I finally just started sobbing and shaking uncontrollably.  He assured me they were okay, and I pulled myself together enough to tell him that we were fine too.  Colby looked out into the hall as we were trying to decide what to do, and finally Captain Erik came over the intercom to tell us that we had experienced high winds while attempting to enter the port of Alexandria, and we were now heading back out to sea while he came up with an alternate plan.  Our stateroom attendant came to check on us, looking just as terrified as we were, and eventually we were able to fall back into an uneasy sleep.

What we determined later was pieced together based on what few details we got from the Captain, various news sources, speaking to fellow passengers, and our own observations and experiences.  On the night of December 12, we attempted to enter the port of Alexandria in 80 mph winds, and for some reason that is still a mystery to us, we had slowed down to less than 5 knots, far below the minimum speed needed for the ship's stabilizers to function properly.  At that point, we were at a near stop in high winds, with 30-40 foot seas hitting us broad side, which led to the increased listing that the Captain claimed was 10-15 degrees in either direction.  In all actuality, we were never in danger of capsizing, but I guaran-damn-tee you, in that moment, I'd bet more than 70% of the passengers on that ship were making peace with whatever god they believe in.

There was a great deal of cosmetic damage to the ship.  TVs had been hurled out of the shelves they were bolted onto.  The X-ray machine and copiers at guest relations were ruined.  The gym and salon were wrecked.  Huge planter pots and heavy furniture, none of which was bolted down, had been flung across the ship, shattering the glass paneled elevators and balconies.  Refrigerator doors were flung open, ruining most of the perishable food.  Drink machines and bottles were shattered, leaving us with a minimum of alcohol to soothe our mangled nerves.  60-70% of the glassware in the dining rooms was broken, and only two of the six or seven eating establishments were open for the thousands of passengers to make their way through refugee-camp style.

Of course, we didn't go back to Alexandria.  We later found out that when the weather conditions are such as they were the night of the "incident", ships pull up their anchors and bob around the harbor where ever the waves take them.  My personal theory is that there may have been a ship bobbing unanchored in our path, leading the Captain to slow the ship to the near halt so that we wouldn't hit it.  I don't know.  These are just speculations on my part.  But we did hear that a ship did sink in the harbor that night and 28 buildings in Alexandria collapsed.  We were hugely disappointed to miss out on the pyramids, but happy to still have our lives.

We were at sea for three days straight, and things started turning Lord of the Flies reeeaaaal quick.  Following the decision to skip Egypt and go straight to Malta, we were told that each stateroom would receive a $200 credit.  Okay.  That's fine.  Until rumors started swirling that some of the swanky staterooms were receiving $400 credits.  And all hell broke loose.  I know I have a tendency toward hyperbole, but when I tell you that this discovery started a riot in the atrium, I AM NOT KIDDING.  There was anger, there were signs, there were petitions, there were curses being hurled, there were armed security guards.  And later that day, Royal Caribbean issued everyone on board a full refund for the cost of the cruise.

And that, my friends, is just the beginning of how our adventures abroad went from Vacation of a Lifetime to Oh My God, Just Kill Me Now and End the Madness.

Greece Is the Word

After a day at sea, we made our way from Sicily to Piraeus, Greece.  We headed off the ship with our tour group to begin our journey toward one of the main highlights of the trip:  THE PARTHENON!

It was such an awe-inspiring moment standing before those ruins, thinking about all of the history that has occurred while they stood, slowly crumbling, but still standing after thousands of years.  What saddened me most is that a huge part of the Greek culture is held captive in the British Museum.  On the one hand, the Brits got hold of the ruins fair and square when Lord Elgin struck up a deal with the Turks who were controlling Greece at the time of the sale.  However, when the Greeks were told that they would get the marbles back if they had an appropriate museum structure to house them, then poured millions of dollars into a modern state-of-the-art museum, and have yet to receive the marbles... well, it's hard not to cry foul.  Still, the Acropolis is beautiful in its own right, my favorite aspect being the elegant Caryatids, modeled after the most beautiful women in Athens at the time that the Parthenon was built.

After spending the morning at the Acropolis, Colby and I spent the rest of the afternoon exploring Piraeus.  We visited a couple of stunning Greek Orthodox churches and were blown away by the elaborate icons, chandeliers, and opulent domes and stained glass.  Right up until we got the evil eye from a woman who began yelling at us in Greek to stop taking photos.  We think is what she was saying.  Hard to tell seeing as we don't speak Greek.  Either way... maybe we brought what happened to us later in the trip on ourselves...

We spent that night sailing from Piraeus to the largest island of the Dodecanese, Rhodes.  We took a bus from the port of Rhodes to Lindos, a tiny white-washed village at the far end of the island.  We visited their Acropolis, which was initially built as a Greek temple thousands of years ago and was re-appropriated by the Knights of St. John who came through Rhodes following the Crusades to set up hospitals.

We wrapped up our time in Greece with a rainy afternoon in the port city of Rhodes.  The town was completely overhauled by the same Knights who turned the Acropolis of Lindos into a fortress, and so this little Greek town felt like a medieval English city.  Greece has been in the hands of ancient Greeks, the Turks, and the English, so there was a striking fusion of Greek artistry such as the remarkable white and black pebble mosaics, the imposing limestone city gates left by the English, and the towering minaret of the mosque.Back on the ship, we dressed for a formal evening and as we sailed into the ocean, the waves became much higher and more turbulent.  Before we dressed, I perched in our porthole to watch the waves, and was struck by this container ship out in the distance that was pitching fore and aft into the waves.  It may look like a trick of perspective, but that truly is the front of the ship crashing under the waves.  Things were starting to get a little scary, but we soldiered on into the Mediterranean, seasickness patches firmly in place and towel animals anchored securely in case of emergency.

Picture It: Sicily, 2010

The second morning of our cruise, we arrived in Palermo, Sicily.  Let's see.  Sicily.  It was... I could see how... Well, Palermo is like that really smart straight-C/D student in school.  So much potential, but just no ambition.  Beneath the dirt, the cramped apartment buildings, and graffiti, there was a lot of beauty.  It was just hard to find.  I think if we'd been able to get away from the port city, we would have been far more impressed with what Sicily had to offer.  But that's the problem with cruises, and a main reason why I wasn't overly impressed with my very first cruise experience.We had booked tours through Royal Caribbean for all of the ports, so we disembarked with our tour group and were whisked into town for a quick overview of Palermo, then to the Capuchin Catacombs.  When we booked this tour, I had it in my head that this was going to be the catacomb lined with the skulls and bones that you see all the time on travel shows.  As creepy as that would have been, the reality of these catacombs was so much more macabre.  Starting in 1599, the monks began mummifying their brothers who had passed and storing them in the catacombs.  As word began to spread, the wealthy citizens of the town also wanted to be mummified, and soon there were thousands of bodies lining the walls of the catacombs.  The remnants of these mummies are still there today, in many cases with leathery skin, strands of hair, and tattered clothing still clinging to their bones.  We couldn't take pictures inside, but if you really want to see what I'm describing, you can click here.

Next up, we headed over to the Palazzo Chiaramonte, built by Sicilian royalty in the 1300s and later the headquarters of the Spanish Inquisition.  It is now partially used by the University of Palermo, but still retains its medieval feel with the imposing stone walls surrounding a beautiful courtyard.  There are many religious frescoes on the walls completed during the Inquisition by artists who were attempting to prove their Catholic faith during their captivity.

After the organized tour, we decided to wander around Palermo for the rest of the afternoon, before returning to the ship for our departure.  We had a delicious Sicilian lunch outside, enjoying the beautiful weather and the always entertaining people-watching.He's climbin' in yo windows, snatchin' yo people up!

I'm On A Boat!

We had one full day left in Barcelona, so we packed it to the gills with cultural experiences.  We started the day by arriving to the Cook & Taste building for an expedition to La Boqueria (the market) and a half day cooking class.  The building was located in the Gothic Quarter, just off La Rambla and a short walk to La Boqueria, where we went to get supplies for our tasty Catalan meal.

Our teacher was absolutely adorable, and everyone in our cooking class was highly entertaining and enjoyable.  There were only about 12 of us, and by the end of the day and copious amounts of wine, we all felt like family.
 

Since the class size was fairly small, we each got lots of hands-on time behind the stove, as well as plenty of time to have fun, drink, and take photos.  And is that not one of the most beautiful meals you've ever seen?  As well as the seafood paella, we had a squash soup, potato pancakes (peeled and sauteed in part by yours truly!), and a creme de catalan for dessert.

The class ended up going until late in the afternoon, and though we half wanted to go home and sleep off our wine and food buzz, we sucked in our food guts and pressed on with the tourist experience, heading to the Barcelona City Museum where an entire Roman town had been excavated and was on display in the basement.  We then scooted over to the Barcelona Cathedral, dedicated to St. Eulalie, with its impressive flying buttresses, Gothic spires, and guard swans... yes, guard swans.

And still, our day was not complete!  After a quick stop at the hotel for freshening up, we headed out once more into the cold night for a Spanish guitar concert at the Palau de la Musica Catalana.  Manuel Gonzalez played a beautiful assortment of classical and original music, all with a Spanish flair.  It was absolutely amazing what that man could do with those strings.

The next morning, we waved a sad goodbye to Barcelona as we boarded the Brilliance of the Seas for the beginning of our 12 day Mediterranean adventure.  And an adventure it was.  But first we had a day at sea to get to know our floating home away from home, and more importantly...

NAP!!!!

El Viaje de Mi Vida

There were times on our way to Barcelona, on the cruise, and on the way back home that I honestly believed I was either going to die or commit murder.  Despite that specter of death, Barcelona managed to catapult itself into my Top 3 destinations, earning itself the great honor of being a city to which I would return without the slightest hesitation, following only Dublin and coming in slightly ahead of Tuscany.  It is remarkably clean, the architecture is stunning, and the people are incredibly kind.  The traveling trifecta!

We stayed at the Hotel Regina which was clean, comfortable, and a nice fusion of modern and traditional design, but more importantly inexpensive and amazingly located in the heart of the city steps away from the Placa Catalunya and La Rambla.  And right next door to a Starbucks.
My parents were supposed to arrive in Barcelona the day before us, unfortunately due to the horrible weather in Atlanta, the Northeast, and EUROPE IN GENERAL, they ended up arriving about seven hours after us.  While we were waiting for them, we decided to jump on board the hop-on-hop-off bus and get an overview of the city.  We saw plenty of modernisme architecture, centuries-old buildings lining the streets, cathedrals, and more and got back to the hotel with just enough time to squeeze in a short lay down before meeting up with my parents.  We went to dinner at a nearby tapas restaurant using the toothpicks to hold our eyes open, then my parents hit the hay while Colby and I went for a nighttime stroll along La Rambla.

We were warned and warned and warned again about the pickpockets in Barcelona and especially along La Rambla, but we never felt the least bit unsafe.  We kept our belongings where we could see them, were alert to our surroundings, and Colby wore the dread money belt under his shirt, and we came away unscathed.  The best part of visiting the city when we did was that all of the streets were decorated with beautiful Christmas lights and decorations, the buildings were glittering with LED lights, and pesebres (nativity scenes) were scattered around the city.  It was magical.

The next day we went back to the hop-on bus so that we could hit the Gaudi sites.  We started at Casa Batllo on Passeig de Gracia in a block of buildings referred to as "The Block of Discord".  Now granted, Gaudi architecture is a bit much, but I've got to tell you, I fell in love with the whimsy, surrealism and organic flow of his buildings.  You'd be hard-pressed to find a right angle anywhere in his design and there is so much creativity in everything from the flooring to the door handles.  We also went to Casa Mila, but as it has been converted into shops, we decided to just view it from the outside.

To continue our Gaudi experience, we continued on to La Sagrada Familia, his unfinished masterpiece.  Gaudi began construction on the cathedral in 1882, and it is estimated that it will take another 30-50 years to reach completion.  I cannot even put into words how incredible this cathedral is.  Let me tell you, this is no St. Paul's Cathedral or St. Peter's Basilica.  This cathedral is like walking into a mythical forest--unimaginably tall columns stretching up toward Heaven like towering trees, jewel toned stain glass windows cast bands of rainbows on every surface.  It is unlike anything I've ever seen, and all you can do is stand there, slowly rotating in the center of the construction chaos, pivoting slowly, head tilted back, mouth agape.

I'm not a particularly religious person by any stretch of the imagination, but standing in that cathedral, taking in the genius of another man's passion for his art and his faith, I couldn't help but think, this is a cathedral God could really get behind.