I was up early, then in the office for a few hours, preparing to fly to Lisbon for an audit visit next day. Through all the preparations, discussions with colleagues, a meeting and a fair bit of work to organise, I kept following the bridgecam, even slinking back to my computer, having excused myself for a moment from the meeting... saving as many pictures of the sail-in as I could.
Then back to finish packing, watching on my own computer for a while, and off to the airport, where I had dashed to the internet hotspot, to find QE2 already moored, then exchanged a few desperate messages with Rob, who appeared to be a lot more stoic. The flight to Lisbon took a fair while, and by the time I logged in again there in the evening, there was nothing much to see. So, I had a wee stroll and a pleasant supper, lost in thoughts and memories.
Next morning, serious meetings. During a cigarette break, I begged to be allowed to use an office computer... this was the very time QE2 was to be handed over. So, I was actually present to see the very last Cunard bridgecam picture at 10.42 hrs GMT (the very one included by Jem above). The connection was lost for a while, and I had to return to continue the meeting. What an emotional day it was...
From the meeting room, I could see part of the 25 April Bridge and knew this was where I had to head. As soon as the meeting was over, I walked all the way down the beautiful Lisbon streets to the harbour to find QE2's berth, so very familiar from the bridgecam and from other people's photos. Barriers here, fences there, gatekeepers everywhere. I could see the place I wanted, but could not reach it. By walking farther again, I finally found a dockside walk, very close to the QE2 berth in fact, and could while the sunset hours away, thinking of her, wondering about her fate, imagining what it would have been like here, two weeks earlier, when she called to Lisbon for her final time... and sending Rob more text messages. Eventually, when the last sunrays had disappeared, I realised I was so frozen that only an Irish coffee and a large bowl of soup would help! Fortunately, I found both, in a friendly Irish bar.
And then, the walk back to the hotel... I shall never forget that evening.
Photos (of course!!) here :
https://www.flickr.com/search/?q=qe2%20lisbon&w=55206992%40N00