Rock of Gibraltar

I woke at 7 in the morning and could see the the outline of some land from our balony. I sensed that if this was on the starboard side then it was probably the African coast. I hastily rushed up to the observatory where I could see some land on the Spanish side as well and we were heading for the wide gap in between. The observatory was still deserted but a passenger sitting there told me authoritatively that we would be passing through the Strait of Gibraltar sometime before 10am.

I returned downstairs to wake Albina and get her ready for breakfast. Fellow passengers were abuzz about the imminence of crossing past Gibraltar and discussed it with each other the buffet breakfast. Sure enough by 9.30 Albin and I got back into the Observatory to watch progress through the Strait. The famous rock loomed bigger and bigger on our port side. Once the first sentinel of the mighty British Empire's route to its pearl in India, it was now a sorry shadow of global Britain, simmering on the back plate of its latent conflict with Spain. So much metaphorically. Visually, it is a magnificent spectacle, dominating the surrounding Spanish countryside, and visible even from northern Africa. On the opposite side, Gibraltar is challenged visually by the distant view of Mount Jebel Mousa in Morocco. I suppose I should feel some kind of frisson at the sight of the Dark Continent appearing to us in the hazy morning light. After all it is now the second continent on our route which takes us through five continents, but I just felt relief that we had now left the Atlantic for the seemingly quieter waters of the Mediterranean. We passed the Rock it around 10 o'clock UK time.Sure enough, the overcast skies over the Bay of Biscay were now tirning to sunshine, as Albina and I spent the whole morning sitting on our balcony.  We crossed the quiet Albaran Sea between the coasts of Spain and Morocco, the antechamber of the Mediterranean, and ploughed on at 21 knots westwards in the direction of Sardinia and Sicily

After lunch we opted to see a film in the Auditorium, a feelgood movie called "Mrs Harris goes to Paris". It was good that Albina chose even that kind of activity, even though it was a sedate one. Better than sitting in her cabin. We were confused at first because our telephones indicated that time had moved forward by one hour. However we discovered just in time, before we reached the Auditorium, that the ship was still following London and Lisbon time. The film itself was ideal fairy tale stuff about a naive London cleaner and war widow who flew to Paris to buy an expensive Christian Dior gown. It was briming with genuine humour as the plucky Mrs Harris chased her dream and overcame class and language barriers to obtain her frock and ultimately, after a disastrous fire accident, to wear it.     

After dinner at the Borealis Restaurant, Albina watched a film and I went for another quiz session with my team mates Ranald, Sharon, Helen, Tony and Lisa. The subject was movies and music in the Sixties, an apt subkect for a wrinklies tour. Again we were good runners up, but never quite there. We got 12 points and the winners 14. Again I could kick myself for not pushing for Honor Blackman as being the Bond girl in Goldfinger, rather than Shirley Eaton, who died at the beginning of the film bathed in gold paint. I watched a bit of a very colourful presentation of Beatles songs in a song and dance show in the Neptune Theatre, where the most stroking feature were the stage background screens which changed dramatically with each song. I finally turned in by midnight.