April 30, 2012
I had no plans to go to port, today. Having just spent a wonderful day in Lisbon the previous day I felt that I was best served by staying onboard and taking only a short break in the afternoon. Part of that was undoubtedly conditioned by my pattern developed in my first three months in the Caribbean of only heading into port two or three days on a given twelve day cruise cycle. So the thought of going ashore in our second port of call never really crossed my mind. But my friend, Lavern, encouraged me to do so. She suggested that I just go in for a brief walk out to the War Memorial and back, a total distance of only a mile. That sounded like a harmless idea with a low investment of time that would allow me to keep my day primarily focused on business.
So approximately 1:30pm I headed ashore. The port itself was uninspiring, as the terminal building through which one needed to pass was a non-descript low slung gray stone building probably built around the Second World War. Once through the building you needed to cross a large parking lot and only when you passed a small portal through a chain link fence did you begin to feel that there was the possibility of sights worth seeing. As I made my way across this unexceptional terrain I encountered our classical music trio returning to the ship. They had taken an early morning tour and were sporting the bright red hats of the tour group emblazoned with the name of the city we were visiting, Cadiz. When I asked them how the tour was their response seemed ambivalent at best so my expectations were limited for what lay ahead. As I reached the main boulevard at the far end of the terminal facility I could get a glimpse of the monument in the war memorial plaza and made a beeline for my destination. The four blocks I walked to get to the plaza could have been downtown streets in virtually any city in the world.
The War Memorial Plaza, however, was far more magical. The square was lined with trees and small planters. I walked through the bay side entrance and was immediately transported into another time and another style of life. The plaza was paved and led up to an oversized marble tribute to those who had fought for the freedom of Spain throughout history. Its large size made you stop to take it all in before entering too deeply into the square. As I did I noticed a cluster of young teens hanging out on the wall in front of the monument, obviously a favorite place for them to gather in the middle of the afternoon. Off to my right a very young boy and his father passed a soccer ball back and forth. As the child was probably only four or five, the lad’s kicks were often directed into the bushes rather than toward his father. But something about these tranquil vignettes of modern life in the shadow of this imposing statuary made me take notice. I had often viewed Europe through the lens of monuments, museums, and castles. Now I saw that those were merely the backdrop to the day-to-day experiences of people just like me. I sat on a bench in the plaza for a few minutes to take it all in which in turn motivated me to explore more.
I headed off along narrow allies leading away from the plaza and up the hill. I did not worry about street names or finding my way back as I knew that if I just headed back downhill toward the port I couldn’t help but find my floating home. Each alley captivated me, though, whether through its architecture, the juxtaposition of pastel colors against the bright blue Spanish sky, or the significant amount of trees and plants that lined each way. I continued up the hill to discover what was on the other side, and my efforts were soon rewarded.
Just over the hill was another magnificent vista as a long promenade ran along a sea wall that looked down on the other side of the peninsula on which Cadiz rests. Enthralled I walked along the sea wall admiring the beautiful park at the near end, the intriguing Moorish elements that decorated the wall, and the expanse of ocean that led off into the distance. As I reached the far end of the peninsula I came upon two other groups of Spanish teens, a group of girls perfecting a rhythmic chant and dance and a group of boys playing soccer, and apparently trying to impress the girls, on a cracked and weedy bit of asphalt. A construction wall bordering new development provided another interesting backdrop as it was decorated with some of the most intriguing and colorful graffiti I have ever had the opportunity to see.
My wanderings had now taken me well beyond the one hour time frame I had allotted and I headed back in the direction of the port. Yet each street down which I walked provided me with such visions of placid beauty that I wanted nothing more than to stop and drink it all in. I turned down another side street hoping to stop to grab a coffee from a street café. However, just as I did I noticed that the shops were beginning to close, as the afternoon siesta time was upon us. I continued on until I reached the original plaza. I returned to a bench and let myself relax as the warm southern European breeze comforted me. The style of life here had intrigued me and my mind explored how quickly I could become conversant in Spanish and what employment opportunities might be available in this enchanting city.
My reverie was broken by a familiar sight, as our photographers on the red bicycles entered the square. They stopped to chat and we shared our mutually positive experiences of Cadiz. Yet, their presence reminded me that it was time for me to return to ship and work. Unfortunately, Cadiz is a city we will rarely visit as it is only a port we encounter during our crossing. But it is certainly a city that makes your mind wander and imagine the possibilities.
And the adventure continues . . .
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