Description of this adventure at: Lisbon to Athens: Grand Voyage of the Star Clipper, 2015
Enchanted with the splendor and grace of the sailing ship, a masterful creation of those who designed and constructed this work of art, I fell for the romance of sailing the frothy seas that inspired waves of passion for life as the salt air wind blew away doubts and dreams unfurled.
Lisbon’s Tram 28 Tour
A photograph of a little yellow tram-car against the backdrop of a twisted alley way on a cobblestone street, enticed me to visit Lisbon. National Geographic lists the Lisbon trams in their top ten list of trolley rides. I have an affinity for trolleys because I grew up next to a the Red Arrow Trolley Line that ran in the back of my childhood neighborhood; we always looked forward to riding the trolley.
So when public transportation takes on a mystic quality, I know a ride is not to be missed. My experience with the hair-raising Amalfi Coast bus ride comes to mind. I always prepare references of places I plan to see and “visit” locations on Google maps still I didn’t find the right place to pick up the tram in the historic Amalfa section of Lisbon. I was proud of myself for negotiating a metro transfer and arrived at the Martim Moniz Plaza only to stand a station for 20-minutes, wondering if I was lost. A man wearing a transport vest looked like a good candidate to set me straight, and he affirmed I was in the right place, but the next tram that stopped was the Number 12 not 28! I decided to explore around the plaza, turned the corner . . .
Ah, yes, I should have scouted out the stop with the long queue. I thought a rainy day in April would be safe bet against hoards of tourists. As rain intensified, everyone, including myself, stood our ground as we waited patiently for the trams to arrive until we, too, could be squeezed into the trolley car. Many of the guidebooks warned against pickpockets, but with cacophony of foreign languages and folks holding city maps while taking cell phone photos, there was no room for pickpockets . . . just hawkers selling umbrellas at inflated prices.
The Lisbon trams, once drawn by horses, have a steampunk quality, with their 20th century fittings and polished wood. The vintage cars, built over seventy years ago, sport bright yellow paint. The narrow cars jounce (made up word) through cobbled streets and narrow alleys, like Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride from Disneyland–with sudden turns, avoiding what would seem to result in an inevitable crash. The tram wheels, positioned at the center of the car and not at the ends, make the trolley seem to float over the tracks.
Dark Tourism at its Best
I stayed on the trolley, with a mysterious transfer to another, to the end of the line. I never did quite figure out their system, but did reach the last stop, the Prazeres, for my verified “Dark Tourism” experience. Ironically named “Cemetery of Pleasures,” the spot has an otherworldly feel, the rainy day contributing to the misty atmosphere. Lines of cyprus trees stretched toward the sky, breaking up the line of marble buildings. This cemetery reminded me of our visit to the Cimetiere Du Pere-Lachaise in Paris, where many of the rich and famous found their last resting place. Seems like Europeans like to create stone villages to the dead, perhaps trying to create immortality in stone. Each mausoleum is characterized by its own personality, with a variety of sculptures decorating the façade. Elaborate doors served as the entrance, either painted or with intricate ironwork in front of a window. Each building has a strange quality of enticing visitors to look into the little houses while still conveying an eerie caution. I couldn’t help but peek through the windows to see alters with pictures, as well as the coffins. I would have lingered longer, but as the rain spilled over my umbrella, the bone chilling dampness, no pun intended, drove me back to find the trolley.
Tram Stop: Castelo de S. Jorge
The trolleys stop at over thirty locations, and I found it challenging, if not impossible, to figure out exactly where we were at any one time. I did have a list of stops, but small print named the stations names and the conductor did not make announcements. In any case, every stop along the way seemed like a great place to get out and explore so it didn’t matter about missing the stop for Castelo de S. Jorge. The massively huge castle, which dates back to the 11th Century, sits atop the tallest of Lisbon’s seven hills. A shaded courtyard spread out toward expansive views of the city and surrounds, providing a great perspective of the area. The Tagus River, sparkling in the sun, surrounded the landscape.
The massively huge castle, which dates back to the 11th Century, sat atop the tallest of Lisbon’s seven hills. A shaded courtyard spread out toward expansive views of the city and surrounds with the Tagus River, sparkling in the sun, surrounding the landscape. Viewing from the ramparts, I looked down into the neighborhoods of Alfama. Cottages and castle stand together as extreme contrasts in size and style.
I walked up and down the steps of the ramparts, being careful not to lean too far over the short walls. Steep steps provided a workout, but with so many interesting places around every corner, I wanted to see all of it. At the archaeological site, I viewed the ruins of the Moorish quarter. Before the Moor invasion, other civilizations occupied the site dating back to the Iron Age.
Lunch with a Peahen
Peacocks and pea hens sat in the trees and on the walls and paraded around the café. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen peacocks of such size. When the male spread his feathers, he needed at lease ten feet. I bought a baguette for lunch and settled down at an outside table. Can you enjoy a meal while being watched? A peahen took an interest in my sandwich, cocking her little head as I tried to dissuade her with a conversation littered with, “no, no.” Being a Portugese bird, my words did not translate, but being a persistent creature, she was eventually rewarded with a handout, which worked for her and provided me with the knowledge of why these birds were so large.
I hopped back on the trolley and then the Metro to my hotel. Lisbon’s Metro had been easy to negotiate and surprisingly spiffy and clean. Shiny blue tiles lined the walls along the series of escalators that carried passengers to lower levels. Not a single piece of paper littered the floors. Crowds jammed into the cars at rush hour. A fist fight broke out right in front of me, the result of pushing and shoving that jostled the passengers caught in the crush. A women on the platform broke the fight up, leaving the two agitators apart as the doors shut on the car and separated the two.
With four fitful hours of sleep on the plane the previous evening and a full day of exploring, I fell into bed exhausted, as the “Trolley Song” came into my head,
March 17, 2015
Should I go on this trip? Would you go?
For two years I planned this vacation: taking a smaller cruise ship to various ports across the Mediterranean Sea. I gathered over fifty pages of research on the trip locations, studied guidebooks and constructed a google map. I watched videos of each port. After I purchased the the trip tickets and packed my suitcase, current events left me in a quandary on whether I should take this vacation.
On February 15, ISIS beheaded 21 Coptic Christians from Egypt on the coast of Libya near Sirte, a port town. By Mid-March ISIS and the State-affiliated militants were engaging in violent clashes.
In October of 2014, ISIS began a propaganda campaign, threatening the Vatican, claiming to launch a war against the Catholic Church and invade Rome. On March 15, the Vatican, which in the previous months had downplayed the threats, its Geneva ambassador suggested that military force should be used against ISIS, if settlements could not be reached.
What I found alarming is that Cruise News.com reported:
Fisherman on Lampedusa, a small island halfway between Sicily and Libya, raised their concerns with the Italian government that they were fearful of being boarded by the terrorist group.
I called my cruise company. The representative reported that their insurers would not allow the ship to go anywhere near where they perceived danger. I guess protecting their investment will also protect me. It’s kinda funny that it comes down to money. He said they would change their itinerary if there were any threats. He also said the cruise line could not guarantee safety 100%, which I understand.
Statistically, I should be more concerned with these possibilities if I stayed home: about 40,000 automobile deaths and 32,000 firearm deaths occur in the United States each year. I’m in more danger driving on the 95 Interstate or catching a stray bullet from a crime or accident than anything happening on the high seas. So far, not one American tourist has been killed by ISIS.
Still, the situation in the Middle East does give one pause. Whereas I have a choice to go, I know that those folks caught in the middle of these conflicts have no choice.
The State Department has issued travel alerts and warnings for over 40 locations.
How does a traveler remain aware without being hyper vigilant?
As a traveler, have you faced a similar situation and what did you decide?
Would you stay home or go on this trip?
The next day, after I composed a draft of this post, tragically militants killed 17 tourists as they stepped off buses to visit the National Bardo Museum in Tunis. My cruise line has listed the Bardo Museum as one of their excursions.
Someone wrote on Facebook that didn’t understand why anyone would travel to Tunis. Last year 6.2 million tourists visited that country without major incident. Tunisians have invested in the travel industry, as 20% of the population benefit from tourism. The people of Tunisia will suffer the long-term effects of reduced revenues if the tourist industry collapses, which would further weaken the country economically and perhaps give ISIS a further foothold in the ensuing chaos. Tunisia has taken positive steps toward democracy, a positive outcome of the Arab Spring. Let’s hope the militants have not derailed their democratic initiatives.
Longing for a seafaring adventure? I’ve just returned from a six-day sailing experience on a schooner through the islands and back bays of central Maine. I prefer to write travel journals as pages, which can be found here: Sailing the Coast of Maine on a Windjammer.
A sampling of some of the photographs by primary colors.
I’ve made this trip often, so I thought that it might be time to journal the drive. We’ve changed our route over the years, as new highways now bypass some of the little towns. The new routes take less time with the elimination of traffic lights but have lost the chance to view the environs of these towns. Along the way, many interesting places beckon us to explore rather than stay on course for our destination.
We start our journey on my least-favorite highway, the congested Route 95, which is a direct route, if nothing else. At Delaware, the highway splits and Route 495 provides a pass around Wilmington. For a few miles, we see expansive views of the Delaware River, bridges, factories, ship yards, refineries and a big hill where trucks haul trash to the top. With major construction on-going, we navigate through the cattle shoots, jostling for a place on the highway with 18-wheelers.
Chesapeake & Delaware Canal Bridge
Opened in 1995, this bridge is one of the first of its kind in the area. A concrete and steel cable-stayed bridge, it spans the Delaware Canal, which connects the Chesapeake Bay to the Delaware River.
Just off the bridge, fields of corn alternate with suburban sprawl, box-like newer construction–single family and apartment complexes. Scrub forests and mixed pine and deciduous woods fill much of the landscape.
The Chesapeake Peninsula is coastal plain, which is a sandy, flat area, and the view from the car are fields of crops and outcroppings of forests in unpopulated areas. Small and large stands selling fruits and vegetables regularly appear along the highways. Along Route 13, shopping districts and homes have sprawled over some the farmlands in the last twenty-five years.
Ocean City, Maryland
Ocean City is a popular seaside resort for folks who live in the Mid-Atlantic region. Even though I have lived just three hours from this town, this will be my first visit. Our family vacationed at the Jersey Shore, specifically, Cape May. On this trip I thought it was time to stop at Ocean City, lured by the chance to walk along the lively 3-mile long boardwalk. After sitting in the car, will be good to get out and smell the sea air.
The Ocean City website listed a variety of events in the city: fireworks, concerts, movies and laser light shows.
A short drive from Ocean City, we stopped for lunch in the historic town of Berlin. The residents have restored the buildings along the main streets, where eclectic gift and antique stores feature displays in their windows. The tree-lined streets, Victorian lanterns and planters filled with flowers made this town an inviting stay. Several restaurants, such as the Drummer’s Cafe, Rayne’s Reef Luncheonette and SiCuli Rustic Italian offered a variety of choices for lunch. We ate at The Globe, once the neighborhood movie theatre and enjoyed a tasty lunch while watching an old-time flick.
Crisfield, Maryland and Tangier Island
Blog post, Tangier–Virginia’s Island Lost in Time, describes our visit to Tangier Island in 2011.
Parksley was a planned community as a result of the railroad constructions on the Eastern Shore and is representative of the small town atmosphere of that era. The commercial district in the center of town has a number of shops and restaurants. Victorian houses stand along the shaded streets.
Founded in 1988, the Eastern Shore Railroad Museum is housed in a restored train station. Around the station, railway cars, such as the Fredericksburg and Richmond Post Office Car and the Wabash Caboose rest on tracks.
Onancock comes from the Indian word “auwannaku” meaning foggy place, but it was a bright sunny day when we arrived. This town offers much to see with self-guiding walking tours past historic homes and lovely gardens and places to rent boats and kayaks. A ferry operates out of Onancock Creek to Tangier Island. For over a century, the Hopkins and Brothers operated a mercantile store, as Onancock had been a busy center for trade. Renovated and moved, the interior of the building still maintains the look of a country store. A number of old-fashioned general stores still remain in operation along our route, which inspired this post on the political and social aspects of losing the general store in the American small town.
Chicotegue Island, Virginia
Spending just a day on Chincoteague Island, we were rewarded with a serendipitous experience. Chincoteague, on the eastern shore of the Del Mar Peninsula, is best known for the wild ponies, whose ancestors survived a wreck of a Spanish Galleon, or one of the legends would have us believe. Turned out the egrets carried the day.
Cape Charles, Virginia
Turning off 168, about twenty miles from the Chesapeake Bay Bridge, we found this attractive little gas station. Read more about this station and others like it at: Nostalgic Memorabilia: Filling Stations of the 1920s.
We explored the bay-side town of Cape Charles. For many years the town had been the terminal of the Little Creek Cape Charles Ferry, which provided car ferry service to Norfolk and Hampton. Now an expansive beach runs the length of the village. Many of the homes date back to the early 1900s, and the town center has a distinctly small town main street.
Chesapeake Bay Bridge
Across the mouth of the Chesapeake Bay the bridge meets the Atlantic Ocean and opening of the Chesapeake Bay. About 17 miles long, the bridge connects Cape Charles with Norfolk.
The Bridge-Tunnel, opened in 1964 and considered the largest bridge-tunnel complex in the world, consists of low trestle bridges, two suspension bridges and two tunnels, each a mile long under the shipping channels.
Currituck, North Carolina
Just off of Route 168 and situated on the Currituck Sound, the town is the landing for the Knotts Island Ferry, which offers a free shuttle to Knotts Island. The town has a few brick buildings including the Courthouse and Jail house, dating back to 1820. W. H. Snowden’s General Merchandising Store was closed but I could peek in the windows and see that it still retains the look of a country store.
Peck Basket, Moyock, North Carolina
One of our favorite stops along Route 168 is the Peck Basket. Years ago the little store was not more than a shack but always had an eclectic array of items to gaze at or to buy. In its new site, has taken on the ambiance of a general store, replete with pot belly stove and old-time counters and open shelves.
Wright Memorial Bridge, North Carolina
Built in 1966 and over a mile long, this bridge connects the Outer Banks to the mainland. Getting over the bridge on a Saturday is an exercise in patience as traffic backs up along 168 all the way to the Cotton Gin. The backup continues along Route 12, the only highway to the upper end of the island.
Duck, North Carolina
Beach and bay scenes in Duck.
Elizabethan Gardens, Manteo
Best described on their website:
The Lost Colony, Manteo
One evening we attended The Lost Colony, the longest-running outdoor theater. I especially enjoyed the 16th century choir music and the Native American dancers, who flung the sand in arches over their heads. Special effects, fire torches and guns blasting, added unexpected excitement and action. The story, an historical drama rather than a recreation of actual events, piqued my interest and I followed up with some research on my own. Our family members were friends with the “Queen,” played by Diana Cameron McQueen, so we stayed after the performance to meet and talk with the cast members.
Beaufort: Legacy of Pirates along the North Carolina Coast
Yo Ho Ho & a Bottle of Rum
As we arrived in Beaufort, we found the town overrun with people streaming down toward the wharf. After scouring the neighborhood streets for a parking place, we headed the way of the crowds toward the waterfront. Some were dressed in colonial costumes–this began to look like fun!
Turns out, we arrived just in time for a pirate invasion! Folks lined the piers and watched as the events unfolded on the river. A classic topsail schooner led the invasion by sea, her pirate crew taking aim at the shoreline blasting her cannons. Muskets fired back in defense. Pirates in longboats ploughed the water, and buccaneers on land brandished swords. Townsfolk cheered as the pirates clashed with the military guard.
We just happened on Beaufort’s Annual Pirate Invasion: It Takes a Village to Pillage event, the town’s recreating of an actual pirate invasion in 1747. The story goes that Spanish privateers sailed into the harbor and stole several ships, easy pickings when only a few men guarded the coast. Not satisfied, the pirates returned several months later to take the town! About fifty militiamen were not enough to protect the village, so citizens high tailed it out of the area. After collecting more recruits, however, the militia counterattacked, driving the pirates out for good this time.
Blackbeard supposedly had been a frequent visitor to Beaufort in the years around 1718. The governor of Virginia, tired of piracy along the coast, sent two sloops on a mission to capture Blackbeard; the governor’s ships eventually tracked down the pirate and an intense sea battle followed in which Blackbeard was killed. Three hundred years later divers discovered the wreckage of his ship, Queen Anne’s Revenge, in Beaufort Inlet.
The weekend featured all sorts of pirate activities from sword dancing, pirate cruises and costume contests. The trial and supposed hanging of the pirates highlighted the afternoon. With so many events, I would come back and enjoy the entire weekend!
More about our stay in Beaufort as well as our road trip through the towns of coastal North Carolina at the link.
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