December 29th saw us set off on the New Year cruise to Canaries region, rather vital if you want to have a hope of catching sunshine in the northern hemisphere at this time of year. I hoped it would be slightly less hastle this year as we would be going with; Adam, Ashley and her Mum, so I shouldn’t have to be dragged along to every awful show Annette could find.
The journey there was the useual tedious mixture of waiting for trains and queues at check in desks, several hours before the flight. For once the strong winds over Britain proved helpful; took thirty minutes off the flight time as they were behind us. I wondered what it would be like flying back trhough them.
This was our second go at Tompson cruises and I generally think they are in second place to their smaller cruise company Island cruises. This is largely due to the entertainments, Island cruises have a Tim Vine clone who is very good and the other teams become second rate. There has also been a growing number of crew comming from Eastern Europe; Poland, Russia, Roumania etc and by comparison with the more traditional Philipine crerw, they are a surly bunch and less inclined to be helpful.
The ship appeared to me to be somewhat out of sorts, with a braod beam and a blunt bow, which reminded me of the Sealion invasion barges (on a grander scale) and we did suffere some rolling and plunging in an Atlantic Ocean that I though was on it’s best behaviour. For example; we played a game of ‘carpet curling’ and the sway was so strong that to hit the target area you had to launch a good foot to the right and if you got close to the mat it was unlikely it would be there at the end of your turn. All good fun mind.
Both Adam and Annette were suffering from chest infections, pretty sure neither were helped by the three and half hours inhaling recycled cabin germs on the flight, but by and large they were helped by the hot dry days. Airconditioning in the cabins continued to plague Annette overnight and as we were unable to turn the damn thing off she usually woke with a cough and splutter. Fresh air on deck soon overcame this too.
Another little bitch about the cruise is the move to docking at strange little towns where there is sod all to see, or it is so far away you need a taxi to get round. This was not the case in Funchal (Madeira) and it was easy to walk about and do the things the excursions listed in £40-50 lots for a fraction of the price. We found a great little bar called Bananas that was run by an young local who had learned English from watching ‘Allo ‘allo and was a big fan of the show. The reviews on trip advisor do not do the place justice; good beer and sangria (fruit based drink for the ladies) and very friendly service.
From there we made our way to the top of the mountain, in the cable car, for a go at the sledge ride, that Ernest Hemmingway raved about. Now I know Hemmingway went a long time ago, but I found it all rather dull. They just got some speed up and then braked for road junctions and now only went halfway down the hill. Not so much of a ‘death ride’ as a cop out. See for yourself; Sledge
Adam decided not to risk it as his chest had hurt his back and I ended up with Ashley. I think the walk back down the hill was slightly more exciting. We found taxis waiting to take you back to the Cable car point but, they wanted 50 euros for that, reduced to forty when we refused and Ashley said ‘we might as well walk’ so off we go to the cries from the taxi drivers ‘you walk, you crazy.’ I repied “not crazy – English!” All the way down we were greeted by taxis cutting the price by ten euros a time until we were offered a ride for ten euros when we could clearly see our destination. Very amusing. All in all, despite the slightly lame slide downhill, I liked Funchal.
By the time we got back on the ship it had got dark and we could see two large digital display boards in the hill proclaiming 2015. Didn’t take a genius to guess they would change at midnight. We had another near miss at the quiz and then went to eat. We sat at Han’s tables as they were near the windows facing the town and Adam liked the Star Wars connection between Han (who worked Solo) and our favourite entertainment chappie – Chewy. We sat drinking there until midnight and were rewarded by the most spectacular firework display I have ever seen. The coast lit up in bright coulours and the night exploded with a variety of cracking and loud bangs. The ship tried to sell dvds of the night but, Annette simply switched her camera to record and recorded the bits she’d missed off the ship’s TV. Nice touches like this remind me why I married her. They are now on her fbuk page.
Time for another rant at the Tomson money grabbing schemes. When you book the cruise they try to sell you a drinks package that gives you free drinks. Sounds a reasonable deal until you consider it costs over £200 per person and it is only valid if everyone in your party buys the deal. That’s a lot of drinking by anyone’s standards. The bar prices are admitedly quite high (sort of prices Five Pints would pay for sake of drinking in a trendy bar) but, when you consider that the deal covers only; the basic wiskey, rum, vodka, beer, fake coke and three types of coctails, any other requires an additional £1.25+ urcharge it is very poor value. The drinks list displays ‘bottled’ beers (these are supposed to be genuine) but, when you order one you get a can! The main beef is that the beers taste disgusting and the canned varieties are far from an easy drink. I ordered a bottle of Guiness and ended up with a warm widget can, more remiscent of warm frothy vimto than the Irish stout. I was not pleased. Adam had the same problem with cider. So the top tip solution is to fall back on a quick visit to the supermarket in the next port and get cheap local beer and wine. Saved a fortune and drank well back on board. Local bars provided the refresments durring the day.
The smaller islands of the Canaries were probably the most friendly, with shopkeeprs all too happy to demonstrate how things work. We saw a strange stool type box with spring prongs on it and gave them a quick tweak thinking it was a type of guitar. The lady kindly lifted it off the shelf and sitting on the top demonstrated how the box made drum like sounds when the springs were plucked. Pitty it was too big to go in the case. A couple of shops latter we saw a selection of souvenier carved animals; once again we were pleasantly pleased to find if you blew in the elephants arse you produced a squeaky whistling sound. They were all decorative whistles. They fitted into the case.
More in the know information. We were constantly warned about thieves and pick pockets when going ashore but, I think you are more likely to get robbed in the UK because you never see and police on the streets, whereas, the local police are usually out in force and often armed or at least carry a wicked looking truncheon the size of an Assegai. They also tend to watch anyone closely who even speaks to any tourists. Even when we wandered around the main souk in Agadir, surrounded by arabs, we were safe and treated with a lot of respect. This is another place that was well worth getting off the ship for. We actually paid for a guided taxi tour here and got lucky with a genuine knowledgeable driver who warned us the impressive looking castle on the hill was an unimpressive ruin after an earthquake in the 70s. It was him that asked us if we wanted to see the tourist market or the local one and of course we chose the latter and got to visit a twelve gatted market swarming with locals and selling everything you could need. Forget IKEA, round one corner the trader was making his own bed using real wood, saw and hammer and nails. Adam found a coloured glass lamp shade he wanted for his hall way and haggled a good price on that and I got a kilo of huge strawberries for 2 euros. Took nearly two days to scoff the lot. Word of warning, remember to wash them before eating.
We decided to get dropped off at the beach so Annette could have a paddle in the Atlantic. I think we would have done as well to have taken up the offer to be dropped off at the far end where we were told there was a flaminco reservation that was worth a visit. Of course we would need another ride back but, first we would need to find a bar. I pointed out this could prove difficult as we were in a Muslim country and indeed we had to walk quite a way before we found one, but as we were on the main tourist beach, we got lucky. The taxi ride back was uneventful and we upset the driver by refusing his first price and walking off. He soon came after us and clinched the deal.
Agadir I think is well worth a return visit if only to have another crack at the massive market and strawberries. All in all it was a good holiday and a cracking way to spend the winter and see New Year. Of course I still ended up stuck with Annette most evenings – the other wussies were often so tired they had to go to bed early. A small price to pay.