Pandemic Diaries - Mediterranean Cruise - Cádiz, Spain

8 November 2022 – Cadiz, Spain

 

Originally, I was signed up for an excursion in Cádiz, but it only had three people signed up as participants so it was cancelled.  It was called something like “Gypsy Baileor” or something like that.  Basically, it was a lesson in how to dance flamenco!  Followed by tapas and sherry, though I would think the sherry ahead of time might help with the dancing.

 

But it seems our cruise ship has people who are happy to watch a flamenco performance rather than participate in one.  As opposed to me, who would prefer to get up and learn how to dance and do that rhythmic and speedy food stomping action with the occasional sultry head toss, or whatever.  (You can tell I really have very little idea what goes into dancing the flamenco – but it always looks like it would be fun.)  Oh well, these things happen, so I just went with a different tack for my time in this town on a peninsula just west of Gibraltar.

 

As often happens, I started my time in Cádiz with a mission or quest.  I know it sounds silly, but it gives me a direction, rather than wandering aimlessly.  Yes, anyone who knows me realizes that I will also do much aimless wandering, I find all kinds of interesting and fun things that way.  But starting out with a purpose gives me a direction to begin that aimless wandering.  Contradictory as that may seem.

 

I began with searching for the post office, to purchase stamps for Richard’s post cards.  The shuttle bus from the cruise ship brought me to the cruise terminal building, with a helpful information lady.  She had maps, and she marked out a route for me to walk from Plaza de España to the post office.  It looked easy enough.  (It always LOOKS easy!)

 

Well, first I was sidetracked by decorative cement squares in the sidewalk.  As a port city on the Atlantic coast of Spain, these tiles in Cádiz featured mermaids and fishermen!  Also a woman who may be sewing or weaving a fishing net, though she also could be a siren luring unsuspecting sailors to crash on rocks, I don't know.  The mermaid was definitely my favorite.  Especially since the fishermen didn't even have  faces, they seemed to be juggling fish instead!

 

Moving on, I found Plaza de España quite easily – but much of it was fenced in because city workers were trimming the trees.  I walked around the plaza to where it seemed I should exit, according to the map – but the little streets didn’t all have names, and maps are never quite as clear because they tend to focus on main roads and not those little alleys.

 

So, what to do – I headed in the vague direction it seemed I should go.  My sense of direction is often faulty, though just as often accurate.  But that 50% chance of being either right or wrong makes me either overly confident, or overly hesitant.  Eh, I followed my father’s often repeated advice – follow the main flow of traffic.  Most people were heading in one direction, so I headed that way too.

 

Eventually, it seemed that I should have found the cross street that was a straight shot to the post office.  I never did find that street, but a nice waiter at a restaurant told me to turn up the side road, go to the end of the street, take a left, and then at the second street turn right.  Very concise directions in Spanish I could follow, both verbally and while walking.  I headed off.

 

Except, on that final street, I saw a shop selling postcards.  And postcard shops often have stamps.  Brilliant!  This shop had a mailbox, but no stamps.  The woman told me the tobacco shop around the corner sold stamps.  However, the shop with postcards a few doors down did indeed have stamps, so I bought them there.  The woman didn’t seem to like the way I was putting the stamps on, vertically instead of horizontally.  So she took the stamps away from me and stamped the postcards herself, which I found quite amusing.  (I guess she wanted the wording on the stamps to be in the right direction.)

 

She showed me their post box, but of course I couldn’t find the opening – so she came over, raised the flap, and dropped the postcards in.  I really felt like a dunderheaded tourist, but oh well, I’ll never see her again.

 

By then it felt like time for lunch.  I stopped at a cafeteria, meaning a coffee shop in this part of the world, not a long line waiting to get food tossed on a tray.  I sat down at a table along the sidewalk and ordered a cappuccino, and eventually a bocadillo.  Now, if you know Spanish, you know that boca means mouth.  And adding the “illo” at the end makes it sound like a little mouth something, like a tasty small bite, right?  So I ordered the tortilla con jamon e queso, a ham and cheese omelette.  The waitress told me (in Spanish) that this is a bocadillo, it comes on bread.  Ah, good, I reply.

 

And then it shows up.  “Mucho grande!” I say.  It is HUGE!  This omelette (extra well done, as I requested) is hanging over all sides of the crusty roll.  It’s too big for me to even bite through!  Seriously, this one sandwich that sounded like a small bite is a large meal, even for my current steroid-driven appetite.

 

What could I do?  I took a few photos, then removed the top of the roll and ate most of the sandwich using a knife and fork.  It was delicious, a good healthy dose of protein in a very tasty form.  Someone I met on our ship walked by and we chatted bit, I talked to the British couple at the next table, we were all a convivial bunch of tourists enjoying our day in Cádiz.  I managed to polish off the entire omelette and half the roll, and had another cappuccino.  And while the waffles were tempting, and the crepes looked yummy, I was full of bocadillo and ready for the aimless wandering part of my day.

 

I walked up to what I think is the main cathedral, an imposing building with bell towers and giant wood doors.  People were gathered in the plaza, some eating at cafés, others walking or shopping, and a few street musicians providing a background soundtrack.

 

This was the old city of Cádiz, with occasional glimpses of the old wall and huge gates that once protected the city from pirates, the British, whatever marauders came this way.  I started walking in sort of a zigzag, up one street for a few blocks, over one block, back down another street for several blocks.  I bought a few small souvenir items for friends, and even stopped in a clothing store.  There was a beautiful black blouse with colorful embroidery, and I asked the saleswoman in Spanish if it came in a larger size (since it was marked Small).  She sadly told me she only had it in that size, even though she knew it was a very pretty blouse and she could see I really liked it.  I told her I had many clothes, but . . . . And she laughed.  What can I say, those of us who are fashionistas understand each other in any language.

 

More wandering, more browsing, and I did find a lovely silk scarf that combined cats and flowers.  With a red background.  How could I go wrong?  I travel in mostly black and white clothing, but that occasional pop of color perks up my clothes as well as my soul.  So I bought myself a present, and had a long conversation with the shop owner about why I wanted a tiny paper bag rather than a large one, and why he recycles the packing plastic instead of throwing it away.  We agreed that the two of us were saving the world, one recycled or re-purposed item at a time.

 

My wandering included finding a few buildings with gorgeous tile exteriors, or the occasional foyer lined in tile.  Yes, I am the person who will walk into an open entryway and take photos of colorful tiles.  What can I say, it’s an art teacher thing.  Plus ceramics was my area of concentration when in the art ed program.  I love tiles, and murals, and mosaics.  Well, and color and interlocking patterns.  So, yeah, photos of tiles.

 

Onward, and somehow I found the real post office!  It had lovely mosaics on the front and around the sides, and it turned out to be right next door to the central market.  The central market was originally a convent built in the 16^th century, but has been renovated and possibly rebuilt to serve as the market for the city.

 

I skipped the fish section, and walked around looking for a small dessert item for me and maybe some chocolate to bring back for Richard.  No one seemed to have small bars of chocolate, but I did find a wonderful shop called “Capitan Cookie.”  Complete with comics advertising Capitan Cookie saving the day in all kinds of situations.  Even without understanding all of the Spanish, it was quite obvious that this was my dessert shop.  I chatted with one of the woman owners, and she even lived on St. Thomas for a short while!  We agreed we probably had passed by each other at some point while on island. 

 

Anyway, I bought an amazing cookie, their Super Chocolate!  It was a dark chocolate cookie with little bits of milk chocolate and white chocolate mixed in the cookie batter.  It was fresh out of the oven, warm and soft in the center, chewy around the outer edges just the way I like them. 

 

And, she and the other owner have drawn all their own comics and advertising!  They make wonderful cookies, are really artistic, and are also quite funny!

 

So if you are ever in Cádiz, definitely stop by the central market and visit Capitan Cookie.  Or check out their website and order some cookies:  www.capitancookie.com.  Their Facebook ID is www.facebook.com/CapitanCookieCadiz/. 

 

I now have a new friend in Cádiz!

 

By then, it was closing in on 3 PM.  I consulted with my new cookie friend, and she pointed me in the right direction out of the market, getting me headed back in the vague direction to return to the cruise terminal and my shuttle back to the ship.  I only had to stop one person to get directions, and she spoke no English but said I was on the right street, just keep going straight and I’d find Plaza de España again.

 

Okay then – that worked out just fine!  I found the plaza, found the waterfront street, and even found the cruise terminal, all on my own.  Well, with also following my father’s “follow the main flow of traffic” advice again.

 

I’m now on the ship, rehydrated and ready for dinner, and wearing my new red kitty floral scarf.  Not bad with a white shirt, though I suspect it will look even better with a black top for dinner.

 

Tomorrow is Lisbon, and I have an excursion planned.  We also need to set our clocks back an hour, as we’re moving into a different time zone.  I’m not sure if that means it will be lighter or darker in the morning.  But I’ll find out soon enough.