Land Ho

We stepped on solid ground around 8:30 or so this morning. Bill had hoped to watch the ship dock, but by time we got up and dressed and outside, the ship was already tied down. I think I felt us shutter to a stop around 5 a.m.

The tour buses were lined up like ants, ready to take people on their assigned tours. Bill and I, just as we had planned, walked the mile or so into the city center of Santa Cruz on the Island of Tenerife. We had hoped to find a church where we could attend Sunday Mass, but while I'm sure they were all around us, we didn't spot one.

What we did spot, however, were televisions all over the place, all tuned to a Formula 1 race. Bill said there is currently a Spaniard that drives a Ferrari in Formula 1 racing, and so that has made the Spanish people much more interested in racing. We enjoyed an espresso while Bill watched a bit of the race. I, frankly, don't know how you tell a Ferrari race car from a Renault race car (if there is such a thing), and I never can tell who's winning. So I just watched the men chewing on cigars and watching the race.

I had forgotten that it was Sunday, and so most of the stores were closed. I always naively think that since it's a port city, they will disregard the Sunday store and restaurant closure. But that wasn't the case. There were a few souvenir shops open, but all of the nice stores were closed, as were a lot of the restaurants.

Bill and I did find a Valor Chocolate Shop that was open. One of the things they enjoy in Spain (or at least parts of Spain) is a cup of very thick chocolate (with a consistency somewhere between hot chocolate and chocolate pudding), with crispy fried churros to dip into the chocolate. Bill and I ordered one cup which came with four churros. We ate about half before our stomachs started hurting from the greasy sweetness. The waitress managed to spill chocolate on my white sweater, so that seemed to be a sign that we should go back to the ship.

It was very quiet, and I enjoyed reading by the pool before going down for the sail-away party that began at 3:30. We also attended Mass on the ship at 4:30.

As we prepared to set sail, the ship's captain, Captain Eric who hails from Norway, gave his daily report. I finally must admit that I simply don't understand a word he says. He seems very pleasant, but I always hope that he's not saying anything like, “I hope you don't mind that prior to taking over command of this ship, I never drove anything larger than a scooter.” He gives a lot of numbers – you know, latitude and longitude and Celsius – but I haven't a clue what the numbers mean. I finally confessed at dinner that I couldn't understand him, and I was pleased to hear that our table mates agreed entirely. Not a word.