It’s time for an update, and whilst I haven’t posted anything for a week, or more, I haven’t been idle. Problems connecting to the internet whilst on board ship, to say nothing of the cost, are responsible for my online silence, but I have been busy knocking out posts for when I eventually get home. One thing that hasn’t changed though, is my inability to post photos, and whilst I don’t think it’s the same issue as the one affecting Simon BRAPA Everitt, the end result unfortunately much the same. With luck, I can go back over the past four or five posts, when I get home, although please bear with me, as I’m straight back to work the day after we return.
We’re on the homeward leg of the voyage now, having departed our final point of call a couple of hours ago. The location we’ve recently departed was the charming Irish town of Cobh, a place that found unwanted fame, if that’s the right word, as the last port of call by the Titanic, as it set out on its ill-fated voyage across the Atlantic. It was the place where many of the poorest people embarked on the liner as they set off in search of a better life in the New World, a life that sadly, was not to be for many of them. As for us, all being well, we are due to dock at Southampton, on Sunday morning.
Cobh itself though was charming, in fact I’d go as far as saying it was picture perfect. Known as Queenstown, until 1920, when its name was understandably changed following the creation of the Irish Free State, Cobh acts as the port for Cork. The latter is the second largest city in the Irish Republic, and the home to two famous brands of Irish stout, both of which are more than capable of giving Guinness, the country’s most famous export, a good run for its money. More about Beamish and Murphy’s later, as Cobh’s style and appeal go way beyond the delights of two, very good, dry Irish stouts.
The setting, overlooking several large inlets of the sea, not only allows suitable deep water anchorage for large vessels, including cruise ships, such as the Queen Anne. Several fellow passengers claimed that Cobh reminded them of Cornwall, which is a description I would whole-heartedly agree with, as both locations are text-book examples of drowned river valleys, formed by rising sea levels at the end of the last Ice Age.
It wasn’t just the charm of the town and its multi-coloured, pastel shaded buildings, that ticked all the right boxes, for Mrs PBT’s and I, it was the easy-going appeal of Cobh itself, and its inhabitants that sold the place to us. The weather helped as well, with the longest and warmest spell of sunshine of the entire trip. That’s it for the time being, we’ve got one more full day at sea, and then it’s back to reality – until the next time.
