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Post Seven - Lisbon and Malaga


Portuguese BoatsPortuguese Boats

The misty shore of Portugal was a haunting sight as we pulled into the harbor.


Breakfast in LisbonBreakfast in Lisbon

After Funchal, I wasn't too excited to walk around Lisbon with just a few hours to see the city. Besides, it looked like rain. But the ship was starting to feel like a gerbil maze, and Scott convinced me to venture out.

To fortify ourselves, we ate a late breakfast on the stern deck. On the way inside for more coffee, I passed a man in a wheelchair going outside with his wife. They were gone when I returned to the table just a minute later. Scott asked if I had noticed them, then told me this story. The wife had wheeled her husband over to the railing, where he had taken a long, slow look around. Then he turned and said, "OK, I'm done. We can go back in now."

Walking around Lisbon in the rain felt like a treat after that.

Lisbon From a HilltopLisbon From a Hilltop

It was raining softly as we wound our way through the backstreets up to an old fort and caught this view. Afterward, we boarded the ship early and took a dip in the Jacuzzi to warm up.


Malaga BreakwaterMalaga Breakwater

This formidable breakwater looked out of place in the warm summer weather. Scott was fascinated by it. Malaga must see some pretty major storms blow in from Africa.


Scott on a Blue BenchScott on a Blue Bench

Look fast! It's a beach on the Costa del Sol that's not packed with tourists. Early May must be too soon for the hordes that descend on Spain's southern beaches, because the only other tourists we saw were people from cruise ships. This beautiful Art Nouveau bench invited me to take a photo. That's our ship on the left in the distance.


BullringBullring

You know you're in Spain when the town's open-air stadium is round and has no field, just a hard, dirt surface. Olé!


Sunset Leaving MalagaSunset Leaving Malaga

Another sunset that speaks for itself. Two days later, we landed in Barcelona and started the next part of our journey.


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Copyright 2001
Scott & Karen Semyan