Cruise to N Africa and Iberia, February 2025

This blog is to help answer questions such as ‘Did you enjoy your first cruise?*’ and ’Where did you go and what did you see?’ Yes, I did enjoy it, and no, I didn’t get seasick.

The cruise was with Julie on Fred Olsen’s Borealis, a relatively small cruise ship (up to 1500 passengers, not quite full); dates were 15 – 27 February, departing from Portsmouth. After three days at sea, we had two stops in north Africa and four on the Iberian Peninsula.

Wildlife at sea: gannets, some guillemots and kittiwakes when near France, a couple of great skuas, though long periods of nothing. Dolphins only when I was somewhere else. The best sightings were when we were in the Strait of Gibraltar when half a dozen short-toed eagles and 20 black kites were making the crossing from Morocco to Tarifa. Dragonflies flying around the moored Borealis at Ceuta were vagrant emperors, probably also about to migrate to Europe.

White stork, Rabat.

First port of call was the huge and mostly modern coastal city of Casablanca, though we chose the excursion to Morocco’s capital, Rabat. This included three stops in the city centre, including a garden with bulbuls, blackcap & chiffchaff and many nesting white storks. An excellent lunch in Rabat, too.

Where do lesser black-backed gulls go in winter? For many, to Casablanca to sit on containers, it seems.

At the next stop, the Spanish enclave of Ceuta, we chose the excursion that went over the border to Tétouan. The border crossing was a long bureaucratic process speeded up by our guide’s “cousin”, a border official. Pity those who must cross the border twice a day for work. Noting the interest shown, the guide kindly stopped by a tree-nesting colony of cattle egrets and glossy ibises, with more nesting storks nearby. The main excursion was through narrow streets combining a souk and residential properties, where (as in Rabat) there was a house bunting. There was another excellent meal, Moroccan style, and the group was steered into a store for a health & beauty products presentation and sale, a typical Moroccan trick (we don’t know if this was ‘official’), though entertaining.

Tétouan collage.

The first port of call in Spain was Málaga, where we’d chosen a tour to the Natural Park of El Torcal de Antequera. This karst landscape has impressive limestone columns and cliffs, eroded by water into interesting shapes. Unfortunately, it was all in cloud, some group members hadn’t taken on board the advice about robust footwear, and it was a little early in the year for much botanical interest. There was a tame rock bunting in the reserve centre’s car park. The sunshine appeared for our walk around the attractive small town of Antequera. We had some time in Málaga, where we encountered confiding monk parakeets. Lisbon’s parakeets, though, were ringed-necked.

El Torcal: left photo from Wikipedia, right as we saw it.

Monk parakeet, Málaga.

Compact Gibraltar was geographically ideal for a DIY excursion on foot, though it rained steadily and we were soaked to the skin. But we made it to the nature reserve on the top of the Rock, potentially botanically rich, at least: we passed Scilla peruviana, Spanish hedge-nettle, two-leaved gennaria orchids and more. We made it as far as the Barbary macaques and returned to the ship to dry out. Then the cloud lifted – but it was time to leave. That evening the ship moored at Cádiz from where Julie and I joined a group bussed to Jerez for a performance by a fine flamenco trio.

Casemates Square, Gibraltar, in the rain.

Happily, the next day was sunny for the smallest group we joined, on bikes around Cádiz. A highlight was the Roman Theatre only discovered in 1980. By the coastal Castle of Santa Catalina there were swallows, and a V-formation of birds coming in off the sea were glossy ibises. This fortress had an exhibition about a huge explosion of stored armaments in 1947, causing many deaths and thousands of injuries.

Bike tour in Cádiz.

Lisbon was the final port of call, where we took a general tour of city highlights.

There was no official on-board naturalist on Borealis, and I was unable to resist being the unofficial nature guide on occasions: wearing binoculars meant “You’re the bird man” was said a few times. I missed the company of Honeyguiders, though we were quick to make friends.

I was impressed by the activities available on Borealis, especially on days at sea. We attended lectures and several excellent evening shows. I joined a ukulele group and ‘singing for fun’ sessions, did three dance classes and played a lot of table tennis. The ukulele and singing groups put on a performance for other passengers during the final afternoon at sea.

Any down sides? One was being turned away from dinner for not wearing a jacket & tie when I’d forgotten it was a formal night. That time I changed, and after that we ate in the more informal dining area, which worked better for evening show times. I lost my wallet in Lisbon, presumably to a pickpocket, meaning time spent cancelling and re-ordering various cards. Lastly, it’s taken a couple of days to adjust to being on dry land with no swaying floors!

Would I go on another cruise? Potentially yes, if the dates and destinations are good. Though now there are several Honeyguide trips to look forward to …

*Well, first paying cruise. Tucked away on the old holiday reports web page is very old (1980s) Mediterranean cruise report from when I was a guest lecturer in a period when there was a collaboration between Swan Hellenic and the RSPB.

Chris Durdin, 1 March 2025

Brugmansia (angel's trumpets) in Rabat; Borealis in Casablanca; dragon tree in Cádiz.