Showing posts with label trams. Show all posts
Showing posts with label trams. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 22, 2023

Desperately Seeking Sunshine # 5: When an Island Becomes a Village

Due to unexpected technical difficulties, I was unable to carry on blogging while I was on the ship. Now that I am back in Canada, the blogging has begun and will continue until I’m all caught up.
 
 
During the night, our ship sailed – idled, really – northwards from Amber Cove on the short leg of 97 nautical miles to the cruise ship pier at the southwest corner of Grand Turk Island. Here are a couple of pictures taken from the ship to show what Grand Turk looked like later in the day. In the morning, there were a lot of clouds about and the odd scattered shower.
 


Despite the short distance of the voyage, we had a time change. Puerto Plata was our only port of call in a different time zone from Florida. We changed time on the night we left Nassau, giving us the sea day and our day ashore in Puerto Plata in that time zone. Now, even though we were sailing not far off due north, we had to change the time back before landing in Grand Turk.
 
 
The Turks and Caicos Islands were for many years left behind in the rush to establish tourism facilities all up and down the Caribbean. Geologically and geographically, these limestone islands mark the southeastern end of the Lucayan Archipelago, the rest of which is the home of the Bahamas. Historically, the Turks and Caicos were operated as a separate British overseas territory. Still a British overseas territory today, although now self-governing in most respects, the Turks and Caicos have more recently come to the attention of the tourist world.
 
To start with, much of the attention was lavished on the island of Providenciales (“Provo” for short). There, you can find all manner of elaborate resort hotels, especially the kind that I can only dream of affording to stay in, as well as the territory’s largest full-size airport capable of handling long-range and overseas airliners. A quick look revealed room rates in the fashionable Kingstown area on the north shore of Provo ranging from CA$474 to CA$2,037 per night.
 
To a large extent, the rampant development on the island of Provo has left the smaller islands behind. The cruise port in Grand Turk is another very recent development. The island, despite its big name, hosts a small community of just 5,000 people, basically a village which occupies an entire island. The local people are often outnumbered by the passenger crowds pouring ashore from the two ships a day which the terminal can accommodate.
 
To get to Grand Turk by air, you would most likely have to fly into Provo and then take one of the short daily island-hopper flights in small aircraft to J.A.G.S. McCartney International Airport on Grand Turk. This airport can handle single-aisle jet aircraft at medium range but there’s not a lot of demand on that scale because of the small population and the relatively intimate size of tourism facilities on the island.
 
J.A.G.S. McCartney was the first elected Chief Minister or premier when the Turks and Caicos became a partially self-governing entity with their own elected assembly, and yes, he really did have a clutch of given names to go with all those initials: James Alexander George Smith McCartney. However, the locals commonly and, I think, affectionately refer to him as “Jags.” He assumed office in 1976, at the age of 31, and died four years later in a private plane crash in New Jersey. Here's a monument to him in the “middle” of town.
 
 
I put the “middle” in quotation marks because the population is both small and well spread out, so that there is really no visible start or end to a town or neighbourhood – unless you see a clear sign like this one.
 

Holland America Line reassured us that we would dock “in the center of town” but there really isn’t one – just areas which are a little more populated than other areas.
 
Despite the visible economic imbalance in favour of Provo, it is Grand Turk which is the official capital of the territory, housing the Assembly, the Supreme Court the government ministries, and the official residence of the British-appointed Governor.
 
 
All of this and a good deal more we learned from the personable guide of our tour on the “Rainbow Tram.” This was an open-sided tourist vehicle with rows of seats stretching side-to side, reached via steps on the left or right. Actually, it was a pair of them linked together, with the driver and engine up front and the second vehicle a trailer.
 

One thing we did had to wait until we were a fair distance away from the cruise terminal, and past the airport. Then, we stopped on Front Street on the west shore, in Cockburn Town, to visit a cluster of shops and kiosks run by local residents, far from the influence of the inevitable Effy’s, Tanzanite International, Ron Jon Surf Shop, and Starbucks back at the terminal. The picture of the tram was taken at this stop, as was this one.


After the shopping stop, we continued north, passing from the west side to the east side to detour around the largest of the salt ponds. There are a number of these large ponds in Grand Turk, and in the 1800s when commercial fish catches were packed in salt for preservation, the drying and collecting of salt from these ponds was a major commercial enterprise. That all came to an end with the invention of refrigerators.
 
 
After leaving the more populated areas behind, we began climbing a long gradual slope towards the landmark lighthouse near the island’s northern tip. On the way up, we got a grandstand view of the ocean on the east side of the island, showing the brilliant colour changes from the turquoise of the shallow waters to the rich blue of the deep areas beyond the coral reefs.
 

In this area, there are still relatively few houses, but much of this land has been purchased by corporations for possible future development.
 

 
Finally we reached the literal end of the road at the lighthouse. This prefabricated steel structure was shipped out from England in pieces and assembled here on the highest point of the island, 165 feet above sea level (about 50 metres) to provide guidance to ships approaching the dangerous reefs. It’s no longer used, satellite navigation aids having taken its place, and in fact is not open to the public now as the steel staircase inside is dangerously corroded. Pity.
 

The former light-keeper’s house is now a gift shop and snack bar.
 

It was here on the parking lot at the lighthouse that we had our chance to get up close and personal with some of the island’s most famous inhabitants.
 
 
These donkeys’ ancestors were imported from Bermuda in the 1800s to assist in the hauling work of the salt industry. They were, of course, an “exotic” or imported animal, not a part of the natural ecosystem of Grand Turk – but the same was equally true of their presence in Bermuda!
 
Today, there are a hundred or so of them roaming freely around the island, and they are officially a protected species here. Our guide told us that it's mandatory to lock the gate in front of your home when you go out if you want to still have a garden when you get back. The government even provides veterinary care for them as needed! Look at this first picture and you’ll see a single donkey.
 

 
Within a few minutes, that single donkey had become three…
 
 
…and after another few minutes the three had become…
 
 
…oh, well, I’ll let you have the fun of seeing how many you can find in that picture! This miraculous multiplication of donkeys was all due to the owner of the silver car you see in the photos. This shrewd entrepreneur had bought a box of carrots and was selling them at $1.00 per carrot to visitors who wanted to feed a donkey. We all got a great laugh at the woman who walked across the parking lot, holding a carrot, and trying to catch her husband’s attention to take a picture, with the donkey nipping at the carrot right behind her all the way. Our guide had solemnly warned us not to stand behind a donkey. There was one fellow who skipped out of the danger zone just in time as one of the animals raised its tail.
 
With that visit to the lighthouse done, we turned back towards the pier. On the way back, we took a quick break to view this sign, with an artist’s impression in the middle of the so-called “Turk’s Head Cactus” which gave the island its odd name.
 
 
Back at the harbour, we got a good look from the pier at the one tourist attraction which was absolutely as far as many of the ship’s passengers (and likely some of the crew) ever got on their visit to Grand Turk.
 
 
Grand Turk, with its unique small-community vibe, was like no other island I’ve ever visited in the Caribbean. I don’t know if I could keep myself occupied while staying there for a solid week, but I’d love to visit again for a day or two.
 
 
 

Thursday, November 17, 2022

The November Epic # 4: Major City, Hit and Run

Yes, all cruise tours tend to be hit-and-run. I knew this one would be. The surprise was to feel after the tour that I had actually gotten a fairly thorough look at a city which was entirely new to me. For sure, it was a good enough look to make me eager to come back as soon as possible!

So let me welcome you to a city where enormous public squares rub shoulders with narrow little alleyway-sized shopping streets…,



 …where houses are painted in brilliant colours or decorated with thousands upon thousands of cheerful ceramic tiles…,



…where the car is not king and public transit can take the form of little 24-seat wooden trams built as long ago as 1903.

 

Welcome to Lisboa, known in English as Lisbon.

Right off the bat, I want to pass on a language lesson for those who are not familiar with Portuguese, either the continental European or the Brazilian varieties.

Lisboa is pronounced “Leezh-bo-a,” with the “zh” representing the soft “j” sound of French “jeudi.”

Want to say, “good day?” That’s “bom dia,” with the “m” sounding almost like an “n.” That’s in Europe. In Brazil, as one of the ship’s officers had already explained to us, it comes out as “bom gee-ah.”

All in all, our tour guide summed it up this way: if you’re familiar with Spanish, you will be able to read and understand a fair number of Portuguese words and phrases (although not, all by any means). Being able to follow spoken Portuguese, with all its unusual twists of pronunciation, including the softening of many consonant sounds – well, that’s another custard tart altogether.

In any case, Lisboa is one of the older cites of Europe, with a heritage as a major commercial port stretching back to the Phoenicians, who were believed to have arrived here as early as 2900 years ago. Today, it’s a large, bustling port and business centre still, one of the major metropolitan cities of the world.

But that’s today. Much of the city was a heap of smoking ruins 263 years ago, after the main dividing point in the city’s history: the great Lisboa earthquake of 1755. Believed to have been the strongest earthquake in recorded history, with an estimated rating of 9 on the Richter scale, it reduced most of Lisboa to heaps of rubble, set off innumerable fires, and spawned a tsunami which flooded into the city at an estimated height of 10 metres (30-plus feet). So, much of what you see in Lisboa today has been built or extensively rebuilt and restored since 1755.

My tour here had two different parts. The first part was a trip through the streets of Lisboa on one of those antique wooden trams. We were following the route of the public transit line # 28, which snakes up and down through the hilly streets in the Alfama district, behind the cruise port area. More accurately, # 28 was following us since there was one of the yellow, 1935-vintage city trams leaving the terminus loop right behind our two red tour vehicles.

During the tram tour, we were served a quintessential Lisboa treat: a glass of port wine and a rich, sweet custard tart. One small glass of wine and one bite of a tart was all the sugar I could stand for one day. It helps to explain why I dozed off later on during the bus ride back to the ship!

Our departure point was right outside the Basilica da Estrela, which was built in fulfillment of a religious vow made by Princess Maria, who financed the beginning of the work after she succeeded King Joseph I on the throne as Queen Maria I.


The most hair-raising hills and curves were handled with seeming nonchalance by our tram driver and the tram itself. These centenarians move slowly, but that’s mainly so that they don’t hop the tracks on any of the curves or hills – some samples of which are shown here.



 Yes, the hills really do get this steep!

The biggest bottleneck on the whole route is the spot where some 200 metres of road are shared by traffic in opposite directions, controlled by traffic signals so that only one direction can go through at a time. Here, the eastbound and westbound tram tracks are interlaced.

All along the way, we saw life in Lisboa in all its variety: shoppers and snackers and morning caffeiners, students and adults and the elderly, drivers and walkers and cyclists, highbrow stores, lowbrow cafes, and everything in between. We passed large, dignified buildings like the Cathedral, looking almost as much a medieval fortress as a church….


 ... a theatre looking like a department store, and a railway station doing the same.

 


 

Everywhere we went, we passed numerous apartments of varying sizes. As in all of the world’s major cities, single-family homes in the central districts are virtually non-existent. All along the route, we kept getting into the most ridiculously narrow streets that anyone ever thought of running a tram line through. The reason is simple – these are some of the wider streets in the Alfama district which this tram line serves.



If you're wondering where the other track is here, it's in an adjacent street. If you're thinking that the trams look tiny, you're not wrong -- and it's not just their seating capacity either. The tracks are built to a narrow gauge to make the work of climbing and turning sharp corners easier.

At the east end of the tram ride, at Praça Martim Moniz, we transferred back to a coach to visit a few major sights lying far to the west of the downtown area.

The first of these is called the Torre de Belém. This fortress sits right at the point where the broad estuary of the Tagus narrows down to a channel which can be controlled by gunfire. 


You just knew this guy was going to stick his nose in again, didn’t you?

A few hundred metres east of the tower is a historic lighthouse, and east of that again is a commanding monument on the riverbank which you couldn’t possibly miss except in a dense fog: the Monument of the Discoveries.

The monument depicts Prince Henry the Navigator, leading the march and holding a caravel, a typical merchant ship of the time, in his hand. Prince Henry was forbidden by law to go exploring himself as a member of the royal family, but as a second-best he could spearhead the efforts to build better ships and finance better prepared explorations. He did, and here he stands, with the various famous explorers lined up behind him on the left side, and on the right side the shipbuilders, sailmakers, craft people, and cartographers whose contributions did so much to advance western European knowledge of the world again from the darkness and oblivion into which it had descended with the fall of Rome.

 

And before anyone gets ready to toss me into the garbage bin, I can assure you that I am fully cognizant of the downstream effects of these exploratory voyages, both evil and good. 

Directly behind the Monument, and across the railway tracks and highway, lies the Mosteiro dos Jeronimós (Jeronimós Monastery), the burial site of Vasco da Gama, one of the leading explorers. This group of sites requires a lengthy side trip from the city centre area, either by car or by public transit.

The views are dominated by the imposing suspension bridge across the Tagus, completed in 1966. Originally named after the dictator Salazar, the name was changed after he died and the dictatorial regime under his successor was overthrown, and it’s now called the 25th of April Bridge in honour of the date of the Carnation Revolution which ended the dictatorship.


Our final stop was at the upper end of King Edward VII Park, named in honour of the British King who was a great friend of Portugal during his reign from 1901-1913. By this time, the distance was growing hazy but the view does extend on a clear day across the centre of the city and the Tagus to the far shore.


One of the things Lisboa has in common with many other European cities is the fiendish limestone cobbles on streets and sidewalks, which become slippery as ice when wet. In this city, only two colours are used: light grey and black. A number of places have them laid in a swirling pattern of waves which are appropriate for a maritime city, but which are said to give some people motion sickness.

 

And here’s a spot where the tree roots are really doing a number on what was originally a smooth and level sidewalk. This one nearly gave me motion sickness as I walked across it.


At the end of our visit, we departed in daylight for our next leg, and that gave me a chance to get a whole series of views across the entire city, from the Alfama district right behind our cruise terminal…

… to the hilltop St. George fortress…,

… to the Commerce Plaza on the riverbank, …           

… to the Basilica de Estrela, its dome and towers plainly visible across the lower buildings, …

… to our passage under the bridge, …



 … and finally, the monastery, monument, and Belem Tower on the north bank just before the river mouth widened out to more open water.


I have barely scratched the surface with Lisboa. I will be back!

Here's the updated map of our itinerary.

Source Base Map:  https://freevectormaps.com/world-maps/europe/WRLD-EU-01-0002?ref=atr


  

NOTE:  This post has been delayed due to technical issues with the ship's internet. Ever since the voyage began, we've been running on a slow signal when in port, and the signal has all but vanished when we are at sea. Our visit to Lisboa was on November 14. It was only this morning, somewhere west of the Azores, that we suddenly found ourselves with a properly-working internet, and I was finally able to update with this post.  With any luck, it will not take as many days again for me to complete my post about the visit to Ponta Delgada in the Azores.