Lisbon – The second time around

Oh, Lisbon you are so beautiful! Out of all the ports I’ve been too, I’m not sure if your my favourite, but your definitely a grade A fitty. Straight off the boat and right into the rambling hills and back-streets.

This time I went much deeper in and found just beauty on beauty. My favourite part was the trams – now only reserved for museums in the UK, Lisbon's trams are the antique 8-speed kind, still rattling through the streets functionally and practically. I loved watching the wheels on rods that skim along the wires, sparking and providing power to the motors. When the trams turn around, the conductor pulls it down with a rope and manually drags it around until it face the opposite direction. I love it.

I bought a few things in Lisbon, for fifty cents I bought a 1950's pulp fiction story book – by which I mean it's a cheap throwaway thing with beautiful 50's illustrations, and all in Portuguese, which I found fascinating.

The next thing I found was a sort of retro-vintage shop, run by the coolest looking guy ever. This gave birth to my first international vinyl scoop. Only the PATTI SMITH GROUP!!!! Radio Ethiopia. I can't wait to get this on my turntable.

I then bought a postcard made of cork. In a stroke of luck on my way back I deviated to kill some time, and found a street market selling everything – including guitars! I bought a cheap one for Joe, our entertainments manager, as he'd asked me to keep an eye out.

I wont even try to describe how wonderful Lisbon is. Around every corner is another bit, but it's built so high, you can't tell where you are, or how long it goes on for. All I know is that I could spend days there.

Sets were really good today! A lovely guy tipped me for playing Moonlight Sonata which gave me a lot of confidence with my piano.  

Hey Malaga, Do You Play Ukelele Too?

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Today, I found out how to make friends in Spain. With my ukelele.

The day started with a birthday meal, in a little restaurant in Malaga. I went back to the ship, fetched my ukelele with bag, and set off exploring with the intention of practising a little later on the beach. I also had a package to post to England, so I was inclined to find a post office. With no idea of the spanish for post office, I felt I would wander until I found something that resembled said shop.

At the crossing from Malaga's beautiful green parks into the city shopping district, I met a girl and her boyfriend carrying of all things, a ukelele. So, I introduced myself to them, and the girl spoke perfect English. I was a little bit shocked when she kissed me on both cheeks. This is a custom I approve of. I wish I had the bollocks to do this every girl I met.

Anyway, I got chatting and found out quite a bit about her, she was from Madrid, I can't remember where the guy was from. They ended up walking me half way across town to a post office! Two nicer people couldn't have been met.

After that, I had an explore and ended up in a shop trying to buy prit stick. I succeeded. I also met two guys, one of which was holding a Spanish guitar and plucking out little funky licks. I started chatting to him, and he offered me a beer and to show me Malaga. Turns out he's English and his friends Dutch, and a wicked skateboarder, although currently nursing a broken wrist from a particularly bad fall.

We jammed on a bench for ten minutes, guitar and uke, then they offered to take me to a gig, to see his girlfriend's band, playing at six at a club in town. I had to be back on the boat at Eight, so like a fool I said yes.

'Malaga's beautiful', he said. 'There's something about it that attracts amazing people. Assholes do come here, but they don't survive in this enviroment, they have to get out.' It struck me as a really strange thing to say, but everyone in Malaga did seem to be pretty amazing. On the boat I feel a bit bumbling and awkward, in the alien languaged city I’m completely at ease. Both of the guys had come for a week and stayed for years, as had the two they live with.

The gig was amazing. The band are called Los Negrados, I think, and the singer Julia, on seeing my uke asked me to get out and play for her. I played her a couple of verses of Something by the Beatles, trying doggedly not to notice how beautiful and engaging she was. She immediately invited me up on stage to sing a song in the break.

When Los Negrados began to play, I was transfixed. I’ve seen a heck of a lot of bands in my time, but I don't think I’ve seen hardly any as engaging as these. Stand up bass, congas, guitar and three way harmonies made a sound as dark and lush as their name, 'the Blacks' in English. Their version of 'I shot the sherrif' was a kind of latin reggae mixed with rock-a-billy, but so smooth you couldn't see the seams. That's when I realised I have a lot to learn from Spanish music. I have to see more of it if I can. Unfortunately, I didn't get to sing with them, as I had to dash for the boat.

The guys invited me to hang out with them when I’m next in Malaga, and see some of the good bits. I’m hoping it happens, although my phone wont work their Spanish numbers. Either way, My uke is coming with me now to every port - It seems to be a passport to fun!

Oh, I forgot to mention about Steve V King! He sat in with me on my gig last night – he's the guest singer for Thompson, and the 64^th member of the Drifters. His voice was out of this world, and he went out of his way to give me tips on taking care of it. We had a few drinks together, and he came and sat in on my gig, and together we made a double act to die for. We bashed out 45 minutes of incredible performance, and he brought out vocal support I didn't know was in me! I was on fire, it was such a rush. Steve did harmonies, and sang a few songs, and he was incredible as always. After feeling very small and down on this boat full of incredible singers, Steve's advice and support has showed me that I do have something different to bring to the passengers that nobody else has. Tonight's gigs were far better for it. I love this boat!

Cartegena – The escalator to nowhere, and the sound advice of Christobal Colon.

This port was such a weird experience. At first, I thought it was going to be pretty boring, although very beautiful from the mountains surrounding it, flanked by huge industrial dock cranes. The further I got into the city though, the more the oddities struck me.

Firstly, I found a music shop and bought a new guitar tuner on impulse. I do really need one for what I’m doing right now. Unfortunately, my time here was limited to a couple of hours as the boat departed at three and getting on the crew list had taken me ages.

I started plodding back to the ship, which I saw a really slow moving escalator, seemingly going just up into the sky. I decided to mount it. As I did, it sped up alarmingly, elevating me quickly to the top of a hill. Expecting some kind of shopping complex at the top I found – nothing.

Well, there was a bit of ruined wall, and a view over the semi-demolished city, acres of wasteland. I did find as I went around this wall, there was more ruins on the other side, but I’ve never seen anything as bizzarre as an escalator up a hill to a ruined building. It made me very happy. From this elevated position I saw my next treat.

On the nearest standing building of the next block, and more further up, spanning four stories, was an astonishing mural. The sheer scale of this graffiti, public art, whatever it was is indescribable. Either someone had a crane or risked their life on some insane ladder assembly – or worse, climbed it freestyle. I don't know, it just blew my mind.

Next treat was the facade of a building, standing completely independantly in its own scaffold, like a movie set. The crumbling building didn't look particularly special, just old and dilapidated, along with it's neighbours in this dusty, unkempt but startlingly beautiful part of town.

By this time I was lost an desperate to get back to the boat by curfew, so I decided not to photograph the random plane on a pole, but I couldn't resist some more brilliant street art.

When I finally found the boat there was a stern looking statue of a man named 'Christobal Colon' pointing towards it as if to say 'Get a jog on boy, the Majesty awaits!'

Good day. Now, gig time. Cyas! x

Oh! Valencia

Valencia is an extremely beautiful city. It's beauty hides behind corners and jumps out at you. It also gives you an extreme compulsion to take photographs. It also makes 'Itchycoo Park' by Small Faces play around in a loop in your head. 'It's all too beautiful'.

At the minute, to avoid that loop I’m listening to that amazing record I’ve already gushed so much about on this blog 'Lizzy Sawyer' by herself. If you haven't got it on your iTunes already, its £1.79 for heavens sake man, go get! You're missing out on so much if you don't, and the label & artist need money.

Valencia, sadly took a shuttle bus to get to, and the whole trip was marred by my fear of not finding the shuttle bus again. Luckily, I did and all was well.

I came in on a bus with one other passenger. A security fellow, whose name I couldn't pronounce when he told it me, and I certainly can't reproduce here. Anyway, his English was very poor, and mines pretty poor at the best of times, so we struggled, but made a day of it. That is, until we got separated and I couldn't find him again. I felt really bad that maybe he thought I was trying to loose him, but we chatted the next day and I think we're all cool.

Anyway, I’ve no idea what I saw, but I know it was very beautiful. Architecture to dwarf the best I’ve ever seen seemed to be part and parcel of everyday life, and going away I felt I hadn't seen an nth of what there was to see.

I new the bust left from by a river, so I found that river and and followed it up, but all the space beside it looked the same. I went down to look at the river, and it turned out to be a massive strip of parkland. Maybe the river had dried up or something, but the whole thing was just full of green space, parks, swings, trees, picnic places. It was pretty inspirational, and my next day in Valencia will be spent there.

Later that night I played with Steve in the audience, the guest singer and 64^th member of the Drifters. The next night he'd join me on the piano for my set! I got bought so many drinks tonight, even full bottle of wine! Love this job.

Mamon

Mamon

OK, so this place is possibly the most beautiful I’ve been to. I loved it so much, and I can't entirely place my finger on why. It left a deep impression on me.

This port is on the island of Menorca, of Spain. Its in an estuary? Is that the right word? The giant mouth of a river. There's islands in it, one of which has a peculiar building on it.

The town was beautifully Spanish, and unspoilt for once by the host of yuppie yacht owners who've migrated there to fritter there fortunes in its idyllic beauty.

I spent the day hanging out with some of the crew, and had a pretty cool time, although without really doing much. In the last hour or so I split and went to investigate the rest of the town. There were so many things that clicked with me. I love this town.

To describe it best, it had a ramshackle Spanish beauty. Nothing was too big or too modern. Even it's supermarket was hidden inside some ancient building.

I walked along the harbour front marvelling at the colour of the sea and the hills and the houses beyond. I met a mermaid made of brass, and on her plinth was the word 'Mo'. You see, everyone kept calling this place Mamon, but every postcard called it 'Port de Mao' and I think occasionally just 'Mo'. I’m really confused. I’m gonna get on google when it's freer and less of a bad satellite link.

I then walked up through the town. The view from the harbour wall was immense. I met a German lady, a hiker, who was walking all around the island. She told me the building on the island was a fortress, and recommended I go see it. I hope I can!

Another beautiful day in paradise. It ended with singing song with the crew on the ukelele on the aft deck. Nothing like a ukelele party with donuts at three in the morning! Love this boat. Would love a day off tho!

Miss yas all

Sam x

Toulon

My first impression of Toulon was that it was insanely beautiful. The harbour, the buildings, the ramshackle French streets.

I got so psyched about speaking French! It was a Sunday, so the shops open were very limited. All the same, I did some shopping. I bought a cooked sausage from a street vendor, speaking only French. I felt very elated at this.

I also got a text from someone I really didn't expect. In fact it made my day so completely, the whole world feels a little bit lighter. I can't go into more detail than that, but it was the most significant part of this port.

I then walked further out, and the beautiful port became big concrete tower blocks and lots of roads. I did however find a few very beautiful bits. I met two lads busking in the street, who appeared to be completely incapable of playing at all. They were playing smoke on the water very quietly, and actually asked me for money. I gave them some, and asked if I could play their guitar. The lad said 'yes, but be careful. I took it, and found it was ridiculously out of tune. It was the kind of cheap Argos guitar that a beginner has. These kids were clearly seriously broke to be out playing and making next to nothing. They didn't even have a hat for their money. I tuned it roughly, and played a little bit. The guitar played badly, but it did sing. I told them they had a beautiful guitar, and thanked them. They looked at me like I had some kind of superpower. It was a really nice meeting, and I got more chance to practice my french.

The further I walked up the hill, the more grey and concrete it got, although there was one more treat in store for me. I saw my first ever properly painted train. It was the same kind they have on the New York overground, that Fab Five Freddie and all those people would have painted. At first I thought it was actually pulled into the Garre Du Norde but it was actually just in a siding. Insane in the membrane, paint the train, paint the train!

Later that day I was properly suffering. The storm was ridiculous, and had glasses sliding off tables and smashing. The piano was rocking so hard I was hitting bum notes. Everyone felt queezy, including me. Well, just dizzy really. I had to lie down. It was a crappy time, and I went straight to bed.

Barcelona! What a beautiful horizon....

And it was beautiful. I think I had too higher expectations of Barcelona, after being bowled over by the beauty of Malaga. Thing is, Barcelona is a huge and thriving wealthy city, and I’ve gotten so used to seeing cities packed with ancient relics and oddities in the past few weeks I wasn't as stunned as I could have been.

Some of the back alleys were truelly stunning, with huge old spanish appartments towering up like warm tombstones, little balconies on every floor with ornate iron railings running down to tiny shops, selling everything from phones to paintings to records. But mostly tourist tat.

I set out to look for Los Rambles as I new it was near. I found it. Having been promised street artists and performers, I was disappointed to walk up it and find it bare of anything but tourist stalls, flower stands and the like.

Just as I type we're in the middle of a massive storm. Waves are buffeting the ship and the whole cabin is shaking like a leaf. It's quite exciting. Every time a wave hits, the hull booms like a kettle drum somewhere out to my right. My cabin's one away from the wall of the ship, so it must be even worse for them. Oh my good lord! It's like being in the aluminium shell of the old caravan at home when some-one beats their palm on the side.

I head down a side street, nip in and out of a few shops, but everythings out of budget for me. Eventually I find the Barcelona museum of contemporary arts, and outside on the wall there is a girl playing ukelele! I really want to strike up a conversation, but as soon as I approach her friend starts shouting at her in Spanish. I decide to make an exit, but I wanted to have a bit of a multilingual skill-share. I also wanted to play her ukelele. This sucked.

The museum was closed, so I set in search of Gaudi's catherderal, and found my self back on Los Rambles (holy sugar this ship is shaking!) and outside the Museu De L'erotica. Well, I asked the entry and it was nine euro. I walked away, but felt guilty that I was opting to view relegious art over sexual art which is in every way more wholesome, so I went back and got in. It was undoubtedly worth the money to realise there was a women dressed as Marilyn Monroe stood in the window having her skirt blown up and waving at passers by. I wouldn't the museum was a massive eye-opener, but it was very interesting. It's somehow comforting to know that in this recent age of sexual repression and beating down of a very fine and beautiful natural impulse, that the same things have been drawn, etched and sculpted for thousands of years. It's not the decline of civilization, it's just rejoicing in nature. It was also apparent that artists of yesteryear saw no need to depict the body in the way we see it now. All shapes and sizes of women, labia, pubis all that jazz. That's how it should be in my book.

At the bottom of Los Rambles I finally saw the street artists, and the human statues. There was one women dressed as a scary green sort of witch queen, with ten inch fingernails, caressing those who sat on her lap. The sort of thing that terrifies children for a lifetime. So cool.

Back to the ship, for some very fine meatballs in the public diner. I prefer it to the crew mess just because the airs fresher and I can look out to see. Most people don't have this privilege.

I’ve had such a weird day today. I didn't feel quite right from the beginning but it was really this old guy that did it. Because I don't know so much piano instrumental music, I have to pad a little with improvisation between songs. Nobody really cares, because when I’m playing there's usually a really loud band playing next door so you can't hear me playing anyway. But this guy gave me a right dressing down. 'I spent seven years playing piano, and I can do that what your doing. I want to hear some melodies, some songs that we know!'. I told him I was sure he could play what I was playing, it sounds like he's a very accomplished pianist, and started to play some melodies, but with 1 hour fifty to fill with instrumentals, I was gonna be repeating. Just when I was starting to get really adept at playing the stuff, he just went and pissed on all my confidence.

But then in my first full vocal set, which is going really well, these young women in their late twenties start requesting songs, and getting really chatty with lots of eye contact. I presume this to be flirting. Snag is I’m not allowed to fraternise with the passangers. At least not in the good way, so I have to be careful. Still, felt good.

Weird thing is, Although I’m having the best time of my life, there's still a part of me that just wants to be home. When me and grace were making our scrapbook, we had a page in it that said 'by this time we should have been abroad at least twice'. How could we possibly now how it was going to turn out? I’ve been to more countries in a week than I have in my entire life. France tomorrow – Toulon. Where the heck is that?

Au Revoir!