Since we are being urged to think that we are in a “war” with Covid-19, I thought that I’d file the occasional dispatch from the front, from our very comfortable fox hole, unfortunately much more comfortable than many dealing with Covid in other parts of the world….

This is perforce a brief post, as we will be leaving the dock shortly. Water pump has not yet arrived but seemingly it’s on the island, and as I understand it, we will leave as soon as it’s delivered and make the repairs while underway. At the moment the fuel tanker is alongside and filling the bunkers so within the next couple of hours we will be off.

Yesterday was a make and mend day, cleaning up and making ready for sea. I posted the blog, wandered into town for lunch, and took it relatively easy. Not much to report, everyone is impatient to be off and we still have about 2,000 nautical miles to cover to get to the Azores so every day in port is cutting into our scheduled arrival date, but with favourable winds we should be ok….

I’ve had some email question asking about the ship, requesting some pictures of the interior and some more about the daily routine.

You need to know that we are not on watch when moored but only when at sea. So breakfast is usually around 7 so that the 8am watch can eat before their watch. The 4am to 8am watch also eat then with a couple of permanent crew standing watch in their place and then switching before the 8am watch comes on. Breakfast is done by 8 and if you’re not on watch and sleep in, you lose…

We left Reykjavik on Tuesday night, we have been sailing steadily since then and arrived at Torshavn, Faroe Islands this morning Sunday at 7am. At 10:30 last night we passed the lighthouse on the outermost Faroe island, whose name I can’t remember, and we were demonstrably in Faroe waters. Our expected arrival time was around 10am, on our watch, but when I awoke at 7 this morning to have breakfast and get ready for my watch I could feel the way coming off the boat so I knew all was good. It’s been an exciting couple of days sail….

Today felt as if it was going to be a long day and since the ladies, my four traveling companions, were staying at a different hotel I resolved to start off early. After the first two days walking I felt quite creaky and I was sure that I'd be moving somewhat more slowly than the others. This decision was aided by the fact that my hotel was an old, rambling homestead on the outskirts of the very small hamlet where we stayed the night. It was raining intermittently, grey and overcast and my hotel was damp and quite dark, with original stone steps and landings throughout the rambling space that were misaligned and quite treacherous in the semi-darkness. The only merit of the place was that heat was provided by a couple of radiators which is now becoming a critical determinant of a high value lodging...

Arrived in Porto yesterday, Monday, afternoon after a long overnight flight and a 2 hour delayed flight from Frankfurt to Porto. I have been here before; when Diana did her Camino a couple of years ago, I rented a car and the two of us poked our way from Santiago down to Porto, where I left her to return home and she to continue on to Lisbon.

It was August then and extremely hot and since Porto's main centre is built on opposite sides of the very steep banks of the Duoro river, hot and tiring work to climb the steep streets...

I'm in the final stages of preparation for walking the Portugal route of the Camino de Santiago. I leave on Sunday evening for Porto, spend a couple of days getting myself organized and start the walk from Porto in Portugal to Santiago de Compestela in Spain on my 72'nd birthday, March 24.

Daughter Diana did the walk from St Jean Pied de Port in the French Pyrenees to Santiago a couple of years ago, about 753 kilometres. As a surprise, I met her at the end of her walk on the outskirts of Santiago and walked the last kilometre with her to the Cathedral. It was a very moving experience and we had talked about the two of us doing a portion of the walk together. Unfortunately her teaching schedule only allows her to do it in summer and I've been concerned about tramping through the heat of a Spanish summer so we have not yet found a way to make it work...

Spent the first couple of days wandering the city, and discovering new interesting spots and re-discovering old haunts. Restaurants continue to feature largely for us and we easily slid into a more local routine of lunch at 2:00 and dinner at 8:30. Only one dreadful meal to date, a dinner at supposedly hot restaurant, Zandunga which I would not recommend.

My spanish is very creaky but workable for the simpler moments in life and normally utilitarian enough for restaurant use. Unfortunately...