Pea Soup Fog – Lisbon, Portugal

The fog horn sounds every two minutes as we glide through the thick of it. I am nestled into a cushy lounge chair in the 11th floor panoramic Viking Crown, undoubted ably the best view from the ship. There is nothing but murky whiteness for as far as the eye can (or shall we say CAN‘T) see. The heavy mist wafts up over the deserted pool deck two floors below and it’s like we are floating through the clouds. The long low blast from the horn vibrates my chair and rattles my glass of water dangerously close to the edge of the table.

We are enroute from Spain to England now and it seems we have encountered the infamous pea soup fog. The captain announced yesterday that we would have to charge past France at full speed all day if we were going to keep to schedule. It is pretty obvious we are going to be late as we creep cautiously through the low visibility of the English Channel.

It appears to be Saturday according to my laptop but then it also says it is 4:33am which clearly, it is not. I don’t even know which time zone we are in anymore but my guess is that it is closer to noon. I have lost all sense of time and somewhat my sense of space. Luckily, my sense of direction is still spot on as I needed it to navigate the confusing streets in small town Spain.

After Funchal, we hit Lisbon, Portugal (which I some how can’t seem to stop calling Libson) but I wasn’t too taken by it. I suppose I can’t really give it a fair appraisal as I barely left the ship.

I spent just an hour on shore walking around the pier and under the cable bridge. It was chilly out and I had started feeling a little under the weather. It seemed it would be a trek to get anywhere half decent and I really didn’t want to jump on the 15 Euro double decker tour bus. I decided to save my energy for the upcoming ports in Spain.

Grateful for caution.

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