Monday, June 22
A leisurely day at sea as we sail slowly south, down the coast of Norway. We begin to gain a few hours of dark each night. Our fellow-passengers on this part of our voyage have been an interesting lot, and worthy of a little character assassination:
• The table of eight across from us: a Scottish father …bald on top but sporting a fairly long gray pony-tail …who on formal nights he is sure to be seen in kilts, with his knife sheathed in his long white socks; his fairly robust wife, in clothes that outline her zaftig figure; their two almost-as- robust daughters, with their mousy spouses; and two well behaved grandchildren(about 5 & 3) – one per daughter. We fantasize that it’s some major anniversary, so father funded the trip for all of them to enjoy Norway together.
• The table of six behind us – a very gay, male, German couple; two older Indian women traveling alone – which is itself interesting; and one straight couple who sits between these two pairs. They found it hard to find common ground for conversation for the first days, but came to appreciate each other as the trip continued.
• Our table of two – alone with our favorite waiter, Rusty, his assistant Allen (who worked below deck in the engine room for quite a few years and is now ‘promoted’ to the dining room) and Miroslav, the wine steward who has become more friendly as we continue to travel with him and order wines at the rate of one/night
• The table of four across from us– two up-and-coming business men with receding hairlines and their chatty wives. They seem to know each other, they obviously love sports, and spend a good deal of time hopping up and down to go to the bathroom or to check sports scores. We theorize that their bladders are smaller than most, or their beer consumption is greater than most.
Since we don’t actually get to engage these people in direct conversation, we can busily create personalities based on nothing but what we see. We’ve met various New Yorkers who are on board for the whole 25 days like ourselves: two of our favorites are Kay and Betty, close friends from the Bronx & Queens, went to college together, and now travel together. Their humor is sharp, their stories engaging and we try to have a drink with them if we find ourselves at the Commodore Club at the same time. But for the most part I am less interested in getting to know new people and find myself quietly reading in various nooks and crannies of the ship. So far I’ve finished two novels, two mysteries and am finding my Kindle quite the loveliest thing in the world.
Tuesday, June 22
Alesund, a sea port on the northeastern coast is our next port of call. Amazingly, the weather is only slightly over-cast and there is actually a bit of sunshine which puts us all into better moods. Even our tour guide, Trude, commented that this summer was unique and dreary. Normally at this time it should be warm and sunny, but 2010, not so much.
We had a two-part tour, with the first portion on a bus, as we traveled around Alesund and learned its history. It was a fishing town built primarily of wood. In 1904, a huge fire which began late at night, during a freezing gale, devastated the entire town leaving the residents homeless, jobless and possession-less. Kaiser Wilhelm of Germany, who had vacationed here in the past, sent ships filled with supplies and building materials to re-build the city. And ,since it was done all at the same time, it was designed and built in the architecture of that time: Jugenstiel - also known as Art Nouveau, or Liberty Style, and its curvy, flowery motif could be seen in every major building in the rebuilt area.
The current residents of Alesund are mainly in the fishing industry and were it not for oil in the North Sea, would be considered to be quite poor. Trude, who reminded Bob of Marj, was a lively woman in her late 40’s, divorced with four children. She told amusing stories about Norwegians and their fairly negative attitudes; their need to be outside; their love of sport; and the pride they all take in their country. Since Norway re-gained its independence less than 120 years ago, it‘s citizens appear to be fiercely proud, very industrious, and very independent. They have chosen not to join the European Union and enjoy their self-sufficiency. Of course, anything is possible if you’re soaking in petrol-dollars and it will be interesting to see what happens in the next 120 years.
With our bus tour over, we all clambered onto a ferry boat, one of the many that ply the waters among all the islands and inlets around Alesund. We rode up into a lovely glacier/fjord, and then sailed back to the ship which we boarded shortly before it took off for our next, and las,t port of call – Bergen.
Wednesday, June 23
We awoke to a beautiful sunny day sailing up the fjord to Bergen.! We had almost forgotten what that could look like. Our tour for this glorious day was again in two parts – part one showing us the town itself with its famous fish market, its store fronts all along the harbor, as well as its modern architecture. We then drove outside the town to meet up with a wonderful old steam locomotive in the town of Garnes. The train, built in the early 1900’s is now preserved and maintained by train enthusiasts who act as conductors, tour guides and engineers. Our destination was a small town named Midttun. Our journey was a fairly short one hour, during which time we covered eleven miles. The train has lost its importance thanks to more modern roads, tunnels and bridges which make the trip between the two cities far more expeditious. But as our tour guide told us, rail lines are maintained because as time goes on, people understand that trains are more ’green’ to use and so new trains are being brought into service as people’s love of cars begins to abate.
Our fellow passengers for the tour were obvious train enthusiasts, but they also were a cranky group worrying about who had the best window seats, and who didn’t; whose windows opened and whose didn’t; who had hogged too much space, and who hadn’t. And, on, and on, and on. We looked out the windows as a pretty river, and the world passed us by – children in schoolyards (on the last day of school) waved at us, people sitting on their balconies near the train tracks waved at us. Sunny weather put most everyone in a more festive and cheerful mood.
Eleven miles later, we alit from the train and we re-boarded onto our buses to be driven back to the ship. Bob and I grabbed a quick lunch and headed back out to explore on foot. The harbor area, a natural port, and a magnet for tourism, was crowded with tourists and locals alike. We wandered through the fish market where we saw HUGE crab legs, piles of shrimp and salmon as well as smoked whale meat. (Norway along with Iceland and Japan continue to hunt and eat whales). We moseyed through the stalls, listened to buskers playing various instruments, and then wandered down the quay to look at two old sailing vessels – one rigged very much like our beloved Star Clipper ship.
We had been warned by friends that Norwegian beer was not only expensive, but also quite bad. But we had to try some, so we stopped at an outdoors pub and had a pint each of Hansa beer – for a mere us$25.00. That is what I’d call highway robbery. And, as promised, it wasn’t very good.. . but it did the job of quenching thirst!!
Back to the shuttle bus, which decanted us at ‘our’ ship, and that was it. Bye-Bye Norway. Tomorrow is a day at sea as we sail towards Southampton. With clocks turned back an hour, we were ready for a day on British soil.
Before today, I had concluded that I didn’t need to return to Norway any time soon. The landscape is astounding, but how many fjords does one really need to see. But after today with its sunshine and crisp fresh air, the country took on a new look and who knows, we might return again.
Thursday, June 25
Arrival in Southampton, with errands to run! We waited for most guests to depart, and then we hopped on a shuttle, which dropped us at the West Quay shopping mall. We had only a few necessary acquisitions: McVittie’s dark chocolate biscuits, and Crunchy Nut Cereal. Both found at ASDA, and a few necessities at Boots. We also visited W. H. Smiths’s for newspapers, and Starbucks for a latte and tea.
The big excitement of the day was that Princess Anne was to come on board for a few hours with an entourage of about 700 people. We know she didn’t come to see us since there were portions of the ship that were entirely off-limits to us while she was on board.
And now begins the lovely sail home with a new group of travelers, and our friends from Hereford, and Cheshire, on board with us. It should be a wonderful crossing.
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Monday, June 21, 2010
Above the Arctic Circle
Thursday, June 17 – Ölden
We awoke early as we were sailing slowly down the Nordfjord towards the small, alpine town of Ölden. It was a damp and rainy day and we had no specific tour, so we relaxed on board, reading, and talking with fellow passengers. When the weather is dreary and overcast it doesn’t allow anything to look that amazing, so we didn’t feel inspired to jump ashore to look at the few things which were available for us to examine. From the 41 metre height of the ship, we could see the entire town and surrounding farms. There is a wonderful glacier which we could see from the ship – the largest in all of Europe – the Jostedalsbreen Glacier and there was a church. I chose to have a massage which was heaven.
The three hour sail out of the fjord provided impressive views of glaciers, steep cliffs and meadows, other fjords that joined our route, and many small villages. At one, it appeared that everyone had turned out to wave goodbye…complete with a band and baton twirlers. The captain saluted them with many blasts of the ship's horn.
Friday, June 18 – At Sea
As we sailed our way to Tromsǿ the daily program which is slipped under our door each evening, reported that there would be a sunrise at 3:32 am and no sunset. So one of our luncheon companions announced that new lyrics would have to be written for old standbys such as: “Red sails in the…”, “Sunrise,…”.
One lecture series which we attended was the destination lecture for our next two ports of call: Tromsǿ and Honningsvaag. It was again given by Alan Batstone. We were clearly told:
• that there would be no ice bergs or polar bears but that if we were lucky we might see reindeer.
• Both cities lie above the Arctic Circle, but because of the gulf stream the climate is relatively mild.
• This is the area where the Sami culture still thrives. We would have called it Lappland and the people Lapps, but this is considered derisive (I am not sure why). The Sami are nomadic people who have unique ‘passports’ that allow them to cross all the Scandinavian countries freely, though this too is changing as they begin to die out.
• Honningsvaag claims to be the most northern city in the world (up for discussion).
• Near Tromso, in one of the small fjords, lies the remains of the German Battleship Tirpitz – the largest ship built by Germany during WW II. It was sunk by the RAF with 1900 sailors on board; the scrap steel from the sunken structure was used by the locals throughout the town of Tromso; and only a small wooden platform indicates where it was sunk, and where the bow still rests.
• Honningsvaag was burned to the ground by the Germans as they retreated in 1944, leaving only one church.
Our next lecture was given by a cardiologist, Dr. Clive Handler whose topic was: A good marriage is better than an aspirin a day. He was discussing the danger of stress and its effects on one’s heart and mind. He is a very amusing and informative speaker who is quick to put down all fad-like concepts regarding medicine and herbs and ‘gives it to us straight’ on those topics where he feels competent to speak. Here we are on an elegant ship, sitting primly learning about erectile dysfunction, depression, stress and vascular degeneration. Cheery topics for a relaxing cruise at sea.
It was enough to make us head to the bar before dinner to drown our concerns in another of life’s sins – booze.
Saturday, June 19th – Tromsǿ
We awoke to another dreary wet day. We were told in our daily program that there would be No sunrise and No sunset. And worst of all NO SUN! This has been three straight days of foggy skies and drizzle which does get into one’s soul and makes one feel downright soggy. And to add insult to injury the internet and all satellite communications have been lost above the Arctic Circle so we have no sense of the greater world out there, much less being able to download the NY Times crossword puzzle. What is this world coming to??? This last paragraph is what the Brits would call whinging.
We were berthed in Tromsǿ in an industrial area where busses were waiting to shuttle us into the heart of the town. One look at the pouring rain, and knowing that it was mainly a church and a museum which awaited us, we decided that once more we would stay on board. Which we did, along with quite a few of our fellow travelers. British are so damn cheery in this kind of weather, donning their slickers and wellies and striding out to look at flowers and nature. We both looked at each other and said, “Not for us”. We are fair weather tourists and when the sites are minimal at best we can rationalize ourselves out of anything. Now we just pray for reasonable weather tomorrow which is the day we will be at the North Cape, where we should theoretically be able to enjoy the Midnight Sun – after all it is the name of our voyage!! G.D.I.
But I do have to say that there is one wonderful thing which allows us to pass the time when the weather is inclement – channel 36 – which is not satellite-signal dependent, but is provided by the ship. On this channel are wonderful videos covering the history of old ships, construction of new ones, wonderful old films of ships that are now turned to scrap and all narrated by very British voices.
To see how people used to sail with luggage galore, with the sail-away parties, and absolutely everyone always dressed to the nines: The Hibernia, the Corona, the QE2, the original Queen Mary. It does not make me wistful for days of yore since without stabilizers and heavier hulls, the crossings were a little less delightful. There was one poignant video on the people who came across in steerage. We learned that it was actually the people in steerage who represented almost half the income on most trans-Atlantic crossings. They were packed in like sardines, given no more than one hour a day outside on deck, provided very simple food but understood that the small fare they paid was worth it in order to start a better life in America. If one arrived at Ellis Island and were deemed for whatever reason to be unhealthy you would be turned right around and would be obliged to return from where you’d started. In order to reduce the need to take passengers back again, owners of ships built very simple hotels in Liverpool and Ireland to hold steerage passengers and keep them healthy until they departed (and thus avoiding the need to bring them back).
Sunday, June 20th – Honningsvaag
We awoke to brighter skies and the promise that it wouldn’t rain until mid-morning – just as we would be taking the tender to leave the ship and go ashore for our tour to the North Cape. Donning our warm coats, umbrellas and slickers we were put ashore and loaded on to buses to take us up to the North Cape. Only 1050 fellow sailors would be doing this today – which probably doubled the population of the town in an instant. Our first stop was a small pull-off on the side of the road where we had an opportunity to see a real Sami herder, his reindeer (complete with furry horns) and to take posed pictures of him standing there. For all we know he is the last remaining Sami since his face is on all the postcards being sold in town. With the souvenir shop, possibly run by his wife and son), a sample of a summer tent with its modern day ladder, samples of horns which had come off the reindeer, and a few ancient sleds in disrepair he probably can retire a millionaire in Norway. (What was amusing was that when we passed the same location on our way back, there was no one around – no reindeer, no sami, no buses..just a tent.)
We arrived in rain at the North Cape. We headed into the cinema which had a wonderful 180 degree screen. With no words, but evocative music, one watched the seasons pass from early spring to coldest winter. Beautiful pictures of animals, vegetation, the famous midnight sun and the strange northern lights.
Through the fog and rain we looked out to the water, which we would pass later that night, and then I sent off some postcards to the kids, which will be postmarked from the North Cape. A few more pictures and back to the bus for our return to the town which was closed up tight as a drum since it was Sunday. Only the tourist shops remained open to get those kröner from not only our ship but two others that had come into the harbor as well. Feeling quite soggy, it was nice to be greeted at the dock by the QM2 staff with steaming hot cups of cocoas to warm our bones as we waited, in the rain, for the tenders to take us back to the mother ship.
After dinner we had been promised by Commodore Warner that the ship would go up to the North Cape so we could take pictures, from the ship, of that dramatic promontory we had visited earlier in the day. Of course, we had planned on enjoying this view under the midnight sun, but instead we enjoyed the view in the 10:00pm rain. With our hot glög and Irish Coffee, we went out on deck seven to see the fog-shrouded North Cape and to snap pictures. Most of our fellow passengers were on deck as well, all of us trying to keep cheery dispositions as we walked delicately through puddles, and huddled beneath lifeboats, out of the rain. Only when we had returned to our stateroom did the fog lift for a minute so we could see the top of the cliff site from our private balcony, and of course, we could see the flash of cameras which were taking pictures of us as we sailed by.
And so to bed, as we head back south, hoping for a sunny day in our future.
We awoke early as we were sailing slowly down the Nordfjord towards the small, alpine town of Ölden. It was a damp and rainy day and we had no specific tour, so we relaxed on board, reading, and talking with fellow passengers. When the weather is dreary and overcast it doesn’t allow anything to look that amazing, so we didn’t feel inspired to jump ashore to look at the few things which were available for us to examine. From the 41 metre height of the ship, we could see the entire town and surrounding farms. There is a wonderful glacier which we could see from the ship – the largest in all of Europe – the Jostedalsbreen Glacier and there was a church. I chose to have a massage which was heaven.
The three hour sail out of the fjord provided impressive views of glaciers, steep cliffs and meadows, other fjords that joined our route, and many small villages. At one, it appeared that everyone had turned out to wave goodbye…complete with a band and baton twirlers. The captain saluted them with many blasts of the ship's horn.
Friday, June 18 – At Sea
As we sailed our way to Tromsǿ the daily program which is slipped under our door each evening, reported that there would be a sunrise at 3:32 am and no sunset. So one of our luncheon companions announced that new lyrics would have to be written for old standbys such as: “Red sails in the…”, “Sunrise,…”.
One lecture series which we attended was the destination lecture for our next two ports of call: Tromsǿ and Honningsvaag. It was again given by Alan Batstone. We were clearly told:
• that there would be no ice bergs or polar bears but that if we were lucky we might see reindeer.
• Both cities lie above the Arctic Circle, but because of the gulf stream the climate is relatively mild.
• This is the area where the Sami culture still thrives. We would have called it Lappland and the people Lapps, but this is considered derisive (I am not sure why). The Sami are nomadic people who have unique ‘passports’ that allow them to cross all the Scandinavian countries freely, though this too is changing as they begin to die out.
• Honningsvaag claims to be the most northern city in the world (up for discussion).
• Near Tromso, in one of the small fjords, lies the remains of the German Battleship Tirpitz – the largest ship built by Germany during WW II. It was sunk by the RAF with 1900 sailors on board; the scrap steel from the sunken structure was used by the locals throughout the town of Tromso; and only a small wooden platform indicates where it was sunk, and where the bow still rests.
• Honningsvaag was burned to the ground by the Germans as they retreated in 1944, leaving only one church.
Our next lecture was given by a cardiologist, Dr. Clive Handler whose topic was: A good marriage is better than an aspirin a day. He was discussing the danger of stress and its effects on one’s heart and mind. He is a very amusing and informative speaker who is quick to put down all fad-like concepts regarding medicine and herbs and ‘gives it to us straight’ on those topics where he feels competent to speak. Here we are on an elegant ship, sitting primly learning about erectile dysfunction, depression, stress and vascular degeneration. Cheery topics for a relaxing cruise at sea.
It was enough to make us head to the bar before dinner to drown our concerns in another of life’s sins – booze.
Saturday, June 19th – Tromsǿ
We awoke to another dreary wet day. We were told in our daily program that there would be No sunrise and No sunset. And worst of all NO SUN! This has been three straight days of foggy skies and drizzle which does get into one’s soul and makes one feel downright soggy. And to add insult to injury the internet and all satellite communications have been lost above the Arctic Circle so we have no sense of the greater world out there, much less being able to download the NY Times crossword puzzle. What is this world coming to??? This last paragraph is what the Brits would call whinging.
We were berthed in Tromsǿ in an industrial area where busses were waiting to shuttle us into the heart of the town. One look at the pouring rain, and knowing that it was mainly a church and a museum which awaited us, we decided that once more we would stay on board. Which we did, along with quite a few of our fellow travelers. British are so damn cheery in this kind of weather, donning their slickers and wellies and striding out to look at flowers and nature. We both looked at each other and said, “Not for us”. We are fair weather tourists and when the sites are minimal at best we can rationalize ourselves out of anything. Now we just pray for reasonable weather tomorrow which is the day we will be at the North Cape, where we should theoretically be able to enjoy the Midnight Sun – after all it is the name of our voyage!! G.D.I.
But I do have to say that there is one wonderful thing which allows us to pass the time when the weather is inclement – channel 36 – which is not satellite-signal dependent, but is provided by the ship. On this channel are wonderful videos covering the history of old ships, construction of new ones, wonderful old films of ships that are now turned to scrap and all narrated by very British voices.
To see how people used to sail with luggage galore, with the sail-away parties, and absolutely everyone always dressed to the nines: The Hibernia, the Corona, the QE2, the original Queen Mary. It does not make me wistful for days of yore since without stabilizers and heavier hulls, the crossings were a little less delightful. There was one poignant video on the people who came across in steerage. We learned that it was actually the people in steerage who represented almost half the income on most trans-Atlantic crossings. They were packed in like sardines, given no more than one hour a day outside on deck, provided very simple food but understood that the small fare they paid was worth it in order to start a better life in America. If one arrived at Ellis Island and were deemed for whatever reason to be unhealthy you would be turned right around and would be obliged to return from where you’d started. In order to reduce the need to take passengers back again, owners of ships built very simple hotels in Liverpool and Ireland to hold steerage passengers and keep them healthy until they departed (and thus avoiding the need to bring them back).
Sunday, June 20th – Honningsvaag
We awoke to brighter skies and the promise that it wouldn’t rain until mid-morning – just as we would be taking the tender to leave the ship and go ashore for our tour to the North Cape. Donning our warm coats, umbrellas and slickers we were put ashore and loaded on to buses to take us up to the North Cape. Only 1050 fellow sailors would be doing this today – which probably doubled the population of the town in an instant. Our first stop was a small pull-off on the side of the road where we had an opportunity to see a real Sami herder, his reindeer (complete with furry horns) and to take posed pictures of him standing there. For all we know he is the last remaining Sami since his face is on all the postcards being sold in town. With the souvenir shop, possibly run by his wife and son), a sample of a summer tent with its modern day ladder, samples of horns which had come off the reindeer, and a few ancient sleds in disrepair he probably can retire a millionaire in Norway. (What was amusing was that when we passed the same location on our way back, there was no one around – no reindeer, no sami, no buses..just a tent.)
We arrived in rain at the North Cape. We headed into the cinema which had a wonderful 180 degree screen. With no words, but evocative music, one watched the seasons pass from early spring to coldest winter. Beautiful pictures of animals, vegetation, the famous midnight sun and the strange northern lights.
Through the fog and rain we looked out to the water, which we would pass later that night, and then I sent off some postcards to the kids, which will be postmarked from the North Cape. A few more pictures and back to the bus for our return to the town which was closed up tight as a drum since it was Sunday. Only the tourist shops remained open to get those kröner from not only our ship but two others that had come into the harbor as well. Feeling quite soggy, it was nice to be greeted at the dock by the QM2 staff with steaming hot cups of cocoas to warm our bones as we waited, in the rain, for the tenders to take us back to the mother ship.
After dinner we had been promised by Commodore Warner that the ship would go up to the North Cape so we could take pictures, from the ship, of that dramatic promontory we had visited earlier in the day. Of course, we had planned on enjoying this view under the midnight sun, but instead we enjoyed the view in the 10:00pm rain. With our hot glög and Irish Coffee, we went out on deck seven to see the fog-shrouded North Cape and to snap pictures. Most of our fellow passengers were on deck as well, all of us trying to keep cheery dispositions as we walked delicately through puddles, and huddled beneath lifeboats, out of the rain. Only when we had returned to our stateroom did the fog lift for a minute so we could see the top of the cliff site from our private balcony, and of course, we could see the flash of cameras which were taking pictures of us as we sailed by.
And so to bed, as we head back south, hoping for a sunny day in our future.
Friday, June 18, 2010
June 13-16 - Southampton thru Stavanger
Sunday June 13
Today is the last full day on board for those departing in Southampton, but for us, it’s just another Sunday…so we downloaded the New York Times Sunday puzzle and struggled to complete it. The lectures being offered seemed fairly dull so we spent time reading in the library instead. I tried to learn as much as I could about the game of cricket (so I could talk with Michael at dinner); then we took a brief walk around the deck. It’s an exhausting life on board – figuring out how to creatively accomplish nothing at all during an eight hour day.
We wended our way to cocktails and dinner amidst the various pieces of luggage being put outside of staterooms. There is always a tension in the air as people realize that tomorrow they must function again – getting up early to leave the ship, find their luggage and return to the ‘real world’ on land where stewards and waiters are not available to us on an hourly basis. At our dining table, there was the usual exchange of email addresses and the promise (sometimes kept) to stay in contact. I was truly sad to say good-bye to Michael and Ann whom we had enjoyed. We had also met at lunch, and had learned that in addition to loving (or should I say being obsessed by) cricket, he had received a degree in architecture and had moved to Toronto to open up stores for Marks & Spencer throughout the country. He also had designed the M&S store in Bermuda. I extolled the virtues of the M&S food courts and their sensible clothing which mother had always loved. And then later, having hugged, kissed and said our good-byes, we fell into bed.
Monday June 14
Since we were ‘in transit’, but were obliged to leave our cabin for the day, we had signed up for a tour of Bath (pronounced ‘Bawwth’ by the Brits.). Were it not for our trusty alarms we might never have woken in time. Bob had been up at 5:00 am to watch the docking of the ship just to make sure the captain did it correctly. (I watched the docking at the new terminal from our balcony and was just as happy.) Our tour group, made up of other Americans in transit for the next voyage, were gathered together in the main theater before being walked to the waiting bus, where we were greeted by a very chatty and informed blue-badge guide. We headed out of Southampton on a day threatening rain, and we drove through lovely country roads with sheep and cows happily grazing while on either side were fields of rape seed (yellow), flax (blue) and poppies (red). It was a wonderful spring scene. We learned about the area and how it was settled through the ages and where battles were fought and won. It was an amazingly data-rich tour, but since I was taking no notes, most of it just flew right out of my head. We arrived in Bath around noon and after an extensive driving tour of the high points, had two hours to explore the town before taking the two hour bus ride back to the ship. Since Bob and I had visited in the past, we didn’t feel a need to examine the Roman Baths again, but rather explored the town enjoying the sun, which fought valiantly to keep shining on us as we explored. As it is a major tourist attraction there were all manner of buskers about singing opera, playing guitar, doing magic or juggling. There was a charity event being sponsored in the town in which large statues of lions were being painted in a variety of styles by famous people. (After being shown throughout the town they will be auctioned in the future for charity.) They had done this same concept previously with pigs which were once very prominent in the environs of the town. In past history there were rules about how land could be used, and at one point in the year when acorns fell from trees, local farmers were given permission by the wealthy land owners to graze their pigs on the land in order that the pigs eat the acorns. While this fruit is poisonous to most animals and humans, pigs seem immune to its poison and so they were happily fattened, the nuts were removed from the ground avoiding the growth of unnecessary trees, and everyone came away happy. The symbol of the acorn is on top of the elegant homes in the Circus Crescent in Bath.
At the appointed time we hopped back on our bus, and because we were ‘good little tourists’ who were very timely, we got a prize: a chance to take a detour so that we could enjoy a slow ‘drive-by’ of Stonehenge. Since the monument stands right by the motorway, it was a bonus because originally we had had to choose between going to Bath or going to Stonehenge....well we got both for the price of one. While I had been there last summer with William, Bob had never seen Stonehenge. We also drove straight through the military bases located on the Salisbury Plain and were warned to look out for stray bullets. (I’m assuming it was in jest, but we did stay alert).
The one piece of trivia that I kept in my pea-brain because it was so bizarre was the description of a ‘smocked wedding’. If our guide was to be believed, it would seem that in medieval times if one was a widowed woman who then remarried, one came to the church stark naked – symbolizing that you came into your new marriage with no encumbrances (like unpaid debts of her dead spouse). But to protect the reputation of the woman, the church allowed the wearing of a very simple garment made of smock material to cover her naked body. And thus the phrase. (This must be ‘googled’ for authentication).
We arrived back at port amidst droplets of rain and saw that most of our new sailing companions who would join us on the cruise to “The Midnight Sun”, were already on board. So after a little rest we headed to the third deck to meet our new dining companions in the Britannia Restaurant. We had asked for a table in Rusty’s area again because he had been such a fabulous waiter on the crossing. Well we got Rusty, but no dinner companions. So Bob and I sat gloriously alone at a table for six. The maitre d’ asked if we wanted to move to a bigger group, but we decided we might enjoy a little privacy. So we will continue to sit at our table in glorious splendor, attended by our buddy Rusty, and his team.
This new crowd that has come on board is made up primarily of ‘Brits’ who are more ‘cruisers’ than ‘crossers’. They are here for the ports and less for the ship. It is a different type of person with a different goal, and we will now meet a new group of travelers.
Tuesday June 15
A day at sea…and a chance to read up on Stavanger,our first port of call in Norway. There was a lecture provided in the morning which was standing room only. The destination speaker, Dr. Alan Batstone, lectured on Stavanger and Olden – our first two ports. He was very informative reinforcing what we had read, and adding new data as well.
• While Norway’s waters contain all the oil and gas which has made them rich, between them and the deposits of this ‘gold’ are huge trenches which are so deep that there is no way to lay pipelines to the country. Norway seems quite happy to have other countries do the excavation and carry it off to other nations – having paid Norway for this opportunity.
• The oil money is made both by these payments and by the many manufacturing sites now located in and around Stavanger which make piping, the actual oil platforms etc.
• Norway is therefore one of the richest countries and the government is squirreling away a large portion of the money for the future – to pay for old age, and for the next generations.
• Other ways that the wealth has been used is to build infrastructure: tunnels, roads and bridges to connect all the small villages which were otherwise isolated. The purpose is to ensure that people continue to live and prosper in small villages rather than all rushing to the few large towns.
• All of this has made Norway a very prosperous country which is amazingly expensive for anyone else to enjoy. And so:’forewarned is forearmed.’ Bargains are not to be found and all alcohol is to be avoided ashore because of the high surcharge put on it.
The afternoon lecture was the ITN photographer Phil Bye who has been assigned to Queen Elizabeth II. He told stories of his adventures following her to various meetings & trips, and how he tried to capture she and Prince Philip in candid moments. For the British I’m sure he was interesting, but I found it kind of dull.
A nap, dress up in our duds for formal night and down for our cocktails and dinner, but in bed early since tomorrow will be a very full day in Stavanger.
Wednesday,June 16
What a fabulous day! For our first Norwegian port, the gods saw fit to give us a perfect day – not only that there were crystal blue skies and warm weather, but we were going to have a chance to see Stavanger through the eyes of locals. Our ship was docked right in the heart of the town next to the Gamle Stavanger – a series of series of terraced cobble stone streets leading up from the dock, lined with lovely white painted homes of the 18th century.
Through a series of family connections and the efficiency of e-mail, we had arranged to meet Marit _______________and Kjell __________________ two of the loveliest people we have met in a long time. With the magic of mobile phone connections, we tracked each other’s progress to the pier – we on our ship, they in their wonderful Chevrolet SUV, until we had shaken hands and started off on our private tour of the area,and city of Stavanger.
At an earlier time in its history, prior to 1960, Stavanger was a fishing port specializing in the canning of herring, but with the discovery of oil in the North Sea, it has become the primary city for oil platform manufacturing, pipeline manufacturing and all other processes required to extract oil from the sea. With all major firms located here (Haliburton, Schlumberger, etc) providing jobs and prosperity, Stavanger is now the fourth largest city in Norway and provides this wonderful dichotomy – the old fishing villages and the modern glass high rises.
We wended our way out of the town with its many roundabouts, stop lights, busses and Mercedes, and within minutes we were winding our way down narrow lanes past lovely homes to stop in what appeared to be someone’s driveway. Which, it was. But instead of your normal garden, the owners of this driveway happened to be living next to a series of large boulders containing early paintings & rock carvings of the Iron Age! Nothing told you how to get to these boulders, and they certainly aren’t on any tourist route, but how amazing. The illustrations were very primitive showing a long sailing ship, some stick-figure people, and various iconography which was explained on a sign – written in Norwegian and English. So if you – as a Non-Norwegian - were lucky enough to find this site, you would certainly be able to understand what you were staring at.
Chatting like mad as we got to know each other better, we continued on to some lovely sandy beaches facing the North Sea. This area of Norway is very flat with lots of agricultural land scattered amidst lovely sandy beach areas. All along the road were the remains of German bunkers from WW II, when the entire western coastline of Europe from the Arctic Circle to the Spanish border had these defense works built to defend occupied Europe from the arrival of the allies. I can’t imagine how dull it must have been to man all these bunkers waiting for who-knows-what. But with the sandy beaches and flat farming land it would not have been hard to come ashore with tanks and guns. Both Marit and Kjell could tell stories of how their families had survived during the German occupation. They had both come from small communities where Kjell’s father, a police officer, had been arrested and imprisoned in Poland for two years. They themselves were born after the war, but each had stories to tell which had come down as the lore of their families. Kjell is now a police officer himself and Marit is a designer of gardens. They have two grown children – one in finance and the other a lawyer.
We made a brief stop at their lovely home with it’s most beautifully laid out garden with a mixture of boulders, stone walls and lush flowers similar to what we have in Vermont. The climate is not that different – they have three months of glorious summer but for the rest it’s fairly cold and gray. They don’t get the volume of snow we do, thanks to their maritime climate and with the Gulf Stream to protect them.
Our next major stop was the remains of an Iron Age culture – simple grass roofed long huts which we could go into. The government has done a great job to restore these earthen-floored homes where four to five families lived, with their animals, protected by thick walls and very small windows to let in some light, and to allow the smoke from their fires to escape. Amidst these old structures there were sheep wandering and a few young people were camping out in their tents. In the background were high rise apartment buildings – a wonderful juxtaposition of the old and the new. Again, nothing told you how to find this site, and where we saw only one tour bus.
As we drove back into the heart of Stavanger we saw more small memorials and heard the tales of the area. Along a lovely waterfront framed by modern day homes, there was a statue of two young girls in their wooden clogs holding hands and looking out to sea. They had lived with their family at a lighthouse…and had set out alone in a attempt to save their father and brother from a capsized boat. (Marit was unsure of the details of the story). There was a bronze statue consisting of three spears standing upright. At this spot the last battle was fought in 890 A.D., which united Norway under one ruler. The tale was that this ruler had sworn that he would not cut his hair until all of Norway was united, and after this battle, commemorated by these spears, he finally cut his hair. As Marit described it, he was the first real hippy.
Having returned to the downtown area, we visited the very modern apartment which their son owns. From his 12th floor patio we could see the entire harbor, the beginning of the fjord which Bob was going to sail up in the afternoon, and of course our ship which is this large hulk floating in the very quaint harbor.
We bid Bob adieu so he could have some lunch on board before starting his tour, and we who were staying on land walked up into the village for some lunch. Just a few hundred feet from the port (where every vendor in the world was trying to get some krone from the ship’s passengers by selling junk), was a series of shops lining cobble stoned streets where only the ‘Stavanger-ians’ were shopping, lunching and pushing baby carriages. Marit and I wandered in and out of various shops where the cost of absolutely everything was down-right scary. She said that this was equally expensive for locals. I saw only one chain (McDonalds) otherwise they seemed to be very local shops, or at least ‘locally Scandinavian’.
Next stop was the Fire Tower. This tower was manned since the 12th century where the look-out’s job was to keep a watch out for fires – a fairly common occurrence in this mostly wooden town. When he saw flames, he was to run through the town, like a ‘crier’, stamping this long stave and warning the citizenry. In his ‘off hours’ he was also the one to announce the hours of the day when the fish market was open, when it was time to stop for lunch and when it was time to call it a day after work. The tower was, of course, up at the top of a hill manned with cannons overlooking the harbor. By now my knee was beginning to complain a bit about these cobble stone hilly streets and steep climbs to get views of the town, but we had one more site near our ship – the old town.
Here we meandered along cobble streets enjoying these newly preserved timber homes. These homes had originally been built for the fishermen but as fishing died out the whole area became quite disreputable filled with bums, druggies and other non-desirables. Only in the last twenty years have they been re-gentrified and now, as in many other cities, it is THE place to have a home. Since it is a National Heritage Site, the outside of the homes must remain as they were, but the insides have been modernized and made appropriate for 21st century living. It was a place to take pictures of small lovely gardens peeking out at the harbor below.
But now my knee said I’d had enough, and so Marit and Kjell dropped me at the ship where I awaited the return of Bob from his fjord adventure which he will have to describe below, since I wasn’t there.
Afternoon Tour to the Lysefjord
Returning to the ship at noon, I had just time for a deli sandwich lunch, and to add a warmer sweater. Our group of about 100 boarded our tour boat from the town dock, right under the looming bow of QM2. With traditional lines, but as solid as a tugboat, we were sailing on her for a spectacular ride through two fjords and around forested islands. The sun was shining…the skies blue…temp in low 70’s…and I was on a boat!
After a brief harbor tour, we headed up the Hogsfjord past historic sites relating to early Kings, the National Assembly of 998 AD, and the country’s unification. We passed close aboard a huge salmon farm where specialized ships were sucking thousands of salmon into holding tanks from underneath the ships. They are sorted by size, with the undersized fish returned to the water. First stop on the way to our dinner tables. Next we wended past Adnoy Island, and many multi-million krone summer homes, and quaint little cottages. No gnomes in evidence.
Then, into the dramatic Lysefjord. First, small villages and farms…giving way to dramatic cliffs and steep gorges. It was as if the geological characteristics of all the canyons you’ve ever seen were all in the same place. Here, wooded with dramatic waterfalls…there, sheer rock promontories. We traveled seven miles into the 25 mile fjord, and every view was dramatic and sometimes breathtaking. At one point we steered alongside a ‘mussel farm’, consisting of hundreds of small buoys, or floats. Below the floats were specially treated lines dropping about a thousand feet straight down beneath the water. Zillions of mussels attach themselves, clinging to these lines. When they are ready to be harvested, specially equipped boats raise the float and line, scraping the mussels into tanks, then reset the line for the next batch.
We slowed while the crew fed a family of goats, living on a precarious patch of green meadow at the water’s edge. We slowed again at the base of a waterfall looking for a trio of seals that the captain had seen earlier in the day. The seals follow mackerel into the fjords. The boat sailed, with appropriate dramatic music, under the imposing Pulpit Rock, soaring 1959 feet above the water. These fjords and rock formations were cut by glaciers over 10,000 years ago. As we started back, the boat docked at a small restaurant set at the base of a steep cliff, accessible only from the water. At outdoor picnic tables, we were served Norwegian waffles with sour cream and strawberry jam, hot coffee or tea.
All Aboard! Time to return 100 happy campers to Stavanger. We found out what this sturdy boat was capable of, as we roared back at a steady 28 knots. (That’s fast.) As we approached the city, and QM2, I called Beatrice on my mobile for a photo opportunity as we returned slowly right below our stateroom balcony.
A fabulous day in Stavanger, Norway…and a sunburn to boot!
Today is the last full day on board for those departing in Southampton, but for us, it’s just another Sunday…so we downloaded the New York Times Sunday puzzle and struggled to complete it. The lectures being offered seemed fairly dull so we spent time reading in the library instead. I tried to learn as much as I could about the game of cricket (so I could talk with Michael at dinner); then we took a brief walk around the deck. It’s an exhausting life on board – figuring out how to creatively accomplish nothing at all during an eight hour day.
We wended our way to cocktails and dinner amidst the various pieces of luggage being put outside of staterooms. There is always a tension in the air as people realize that tomorrow they must function again – getting up early to leave the ship, find their luggage and return to the ‘real world’ on land where stewards and waiters are not available to us on an hourly basis. At our dining table, there was the usual exchange of email addresses and the promise (sometimes kept) to stay in contact. I was truly sad to say good-bye to Michael and Ann whom we had enjoyed. We had also met at lunch, and had learned that in addition to loving (or should I say being obsessed by) cricket, he had received a degree in architecture and had moved to Toronto to open up stores for Marks & Spencer throughout the country. He also had designed the M&S store in Bermuda. I extolled the virtues of the M&S food courts and their sensible clothing which mother had always loved. And then later, having hugged, kissed and said our good-byes, we fell into bed.
Monday June 14
Since we were ‘in transit’, but were obliged to leave our cabin for the day, we had signed up for a tour of Bath (pronounced ‘Bawwth’ by the Brits.). Were it not for our trusty alarms we might never have woken in time. Bob had been up at 5:00 am to watch the docking of the ship just to make sure the captain did it correctly. (I watched the docking at the new terminal from our balcony and was just as happy.) Our tour group, made up of other Americans in transit for the next voyage, were gathered together in the main theater before being walked to the waiting bus, where we were greeted by a very chatty and informed blue-badge guide. We headed out of Southampton on a day threatening rain, and we drove through lovely country roads with sheep and cows happily grazing while on either side were fields of rape seed (yellow), flax (blue) and poppies (red). It was a wonderful spring scene. We learned about the area and how it was settled through the ages and where battles were fought and won. It was an amazingly data-rich tour, but since I was taking no notes, most of it just flew right out of my head. We arrived in Bath around noon and after an extensive driving tour of the high points, had two hours to explore the town before taking the two hour bus ride back to the ship. Since Bob and I had visited in the past, we didn’t feel a need to examine the Roman Baths again, but rather explored the town enjoying the sun, which fought valiantly to keep shining on us as we explored. As it is a major tourist attraction there were all manner of buskers about singing opera, playing guitar, doing magic or juggling. There was a charity event being sponsored in the town in which large statues of lions were being painted in a variety of styles by famous people. (After being shown throughout the town they will be auctioned in the future for charity.) They had done this same concept previously with pigs which were once very prominent in the environs of the town. In past history there were rules about how land could be used, and at one point in the year when acorns fell from trees, local farmers were given permission by the wealthy land owners to graze their pigs on the land in order that the pigs eat the acorns. While this fruit is poisonous to most animals and humans, pigs seem immune to its poison and so they were happily fattened, the nuts were removed from the ground avoiding the growth of unnecessary trees, and everyone came away happy. The symbol of the acorn is on top of the elegant homes in the Circus Crescent in Bath.
At the appointed time we hopped back on our bus, and because we were ‘good little tourists’ who were very timely, we got a prize: a chance to take a detour so that we could enjoy a slow ‘drive-by’ of Stonehenge. Since the monument stands right by the motorway, it was a bonus because originally we had had to choose between going to Bath or going to Stonehenge....well we got both for the price of one. While I had been there last summer with William, Bob had never seen Stonehenge. We also drove straight through the military bases located on the Salisbury Plain and were warned to look out for stray bullets. (I’m assuming it was in jest, but we did stay alert).
The one piece of trivia that I kept in my pea-brain because it was so bizarre was the description of a ‘smocked wedding’. If our guide was to be believed, it would seem that in medieval times if one was a widowed woman who then remarried, one came to the church stark naked – symbolizing that you came into your new marriage with no encumbrances (like unpaid debts of her dead spouse). But to protect the reputation of the woman, the church allowed the wearing of a very simple garment made of smock material to cover her naked body. And thus the phrase. (This must be ‘googled’ for authentication).
We arrived back at port amidst droplets of rain and saw that most of our new sailing companions who would join us on the cruise to “The Midnight Sun”, were already on board. So after a little rest we headed to the third deck to meet our new dining companions in the Britannia Restaurant. We had asked for a table in Rusty’s area again because he had been such a fabulous waiter on the crossing. Well we got Rusty, but no dinner companions. So Bob and I sat gloriously alone at a table for six. The maitre d’ asked if we wanted to move to a bigger group, but we decided we might enjoy a little privacy. So we will continue to sit at our table in glorious splendor, attended by our buddy Rusty, and his team.
This new crowd that has come on board is made up primarily of ‘Brits’ who are more ‘cruisers’ than ‘crossers’. They are here for the ports and less for the ship. It is a different type of person with a different goal, and we will now meet a new group of travelers.
Tuesday June 15
A day at sea…and a chance to read up on Stavanger,our first port of call in Norway. There was a lecture provided in the morning which was standing room only. The destination speaker, Dr. Alan Batstone, lectured on Stavanger and Olden – our first two ports. He was very informative reinforcing what we had read, and adding new data as well.
• While Norway’s waters contain all the oil and gas which has made them rich, between them and the deposits of this ‘gold’ are huge trenches which are so deep that there is no way to lay pipelines to the country. Norway seems quite happy to have other countries do the excavation and carry it off to other nations – having paid Norway for this opportunity.
• The oil money is made both by these payments and by the many manufacturing sites now located in and around Stavanger which make piping, the actual oil platforms etc.
• Norway is therefore one of the richest countries and the government is squirreling away a large portion of the money for the future – to pay for old age, and for the next generations.
• Other ways that the wealth has been used is to build infrastructure: tunnels, roads and bridges to connect all the small villages which were otherwise isolated. The purpose is to ensure that people continue to live and prosper in small villages rather than all rushing to the few large towns.
• All of this has made Norway a very prosperous country which is amazingly expensive for anyone else to enjoy. And so:’forewarned is forearmed.’ Bargains are not to be found and all alcohol is to be avoided ashore because of the high surcharge put on it.
The afternoon lecture was the ITN photographer Phil Bye who has been assigned to Queen Elizabeth II. He told stories of his adventures following her to various meetings & trips, and how he tried to capture she and Prince Philip in candid moments. For the British I’m sure he was interesting, but I found it kind of dull.
A nap, dress up in our duds for formal night and down for our cocktails and dinner, but in bed early since tomorrow will be a very full day in Stavanger.
Wednesday,June 16
What a fabulous day! For our first Norwegian port, the gods saw fit to give us a perfect day – not only that there were crystal blue skies and warm weather, but we were going to have a chance to see Stavanger through the eyes of locals. Our ship was docked right in the heart of the town next to the Gamle Stavanger – a series of series of terraced cobble stone streets leading up from the dock, lined with lovely white painted homes of the 18th century.
Through a series of family connections and the efficiency of e-mail, we had arranged to meet Marit _______________and Kjell __________________ two of the loveliest people we have met in a long time. With the magic of mobile phone connections, we tracked each other’s progress to the pier – we on our ship, they in their wonderful Chevrolet SUV, until we had shaken hands and started off on our private tour of the area,and city of Stavanger.
At an earlier time in its history, prior to 1960, Stavanger was a fishing port specializing in the canning of herring, but with the discovery of oil in the North Sea, it has become the primary city for oil platform manufacturing, pipeline manufacturing and all other processes required to extract oil from the sea. With all major firms located here (Haliburton, Schlumberger, etc) providing jobs and prosperity, Stavanger is now the fourth largest city in Norway and provides this wonderful dichotomy – the old fishing villages and the modern glass high rises.
We wended our way out of the town with its many roundabouts, stop lights, busses and Mercedes, and within minutes we were winding our way down narrow lanes past lovely homes to stop in what appeared to be someone’s driveway. Which, it was. But instead of your normal garden, the owners of this driveway happened to be living next to a series of large boulders containing early paintings & rock carvings of the Iron Age! Nothing told you how to get to these boulders, and they certainly aren’t on any tourist route, but how amazing. The illustrations were very primitive showing a long sailing ship, some stick-figure people, and various iconography which was explained on a sign – written in Norwegian and English. So if you – as a Non-Norwegian - were lucky enough to find this site, you would certainly be able to understand what you were staring at.
Chatting like mad as we got to know each other better, we continued on to some lovely sandy beaches facing the North Sea. This area of Norway is very flat with lots of agricultural land scattered amidst lovely sandy beach areas. All along the road were the remains of German bunkers from WW II, when the entire western coastline of Europe from the Arctic Circle to the Spanish border had these defense works built to defend occupied Europe from the arrival of the allies. I can’t imagine how dull it must have been to man all these bunkers waiting for who-knows-what. But with the sandy beaches and flat farming land it would not have been hard to come ashore with tanks and guns. Both Marit and Kjell could tell stories of how their families had survived during the German occupation. They had both come from small communities where Kjell’s father, a police officer, had been arrested and imprisoned in Poland for two years. They themselves were born after the war, but each had stories to tell which had come down as the lore of their families. Kjell is now a police officer himself and Marit is a designer of gardens. They have two grown children – one in finance and the other a lawyer.
We made a brief stop at their lovely home with it’s most beautifully laid out garden with a mixture of boulders, stone walls and lush flowers similar to what we have in Vermont. The climate is not that different – they have three months of glorious summer but for the rest it’s fairly cold and gray. They don’t get the volume of snow we do, thanks to their maritime climate and with the Gulf Stream to protect them.
Our next major stop was the remains of an Iron Age culture – simple grass roofed long huts which we could go into. The government has done a great job to restore these earthen-floored homes where four to five families lived, with their animals, protected by thick walls and very small windows to let in some light, and to allow the smoke from their fires to escape. Amidst these old structures there were sheep wandering and a few young people were camping out in their tents. In the background were high rise apartment buildings – a wonderful juxtaposition of the old and the new. Again, nothing told you how to find this site, and where we saw only one tour bus.
As we drove back into the heart of Stavanger we saw more small memorials and heard the tales of the area. Along a lovely waterfront framed by modern day homes, there was a statue of two young girls in their wooden clogs holding hands and looking out to sea. They had lived with their family at a lighthouse…and had set out alone in a attempt to save their father and brother from a capsized boat. (Marit was unsure of the details of the story). There was a bronze statue consisting of three spears standing upright. At this spot the last battle was fought in 890 A.D., which united Norway under one ruler. The tale was that this ruler had sworn that he would not cut his hair until all of Norway was united, and after this battle, commemorated by these spears, he finally cut his hair. As Marit described it, he was the first real hippy.
Having returned to the downtown area, we visited the very modern apartment which their son owns. From his 12th floor patio we could see the entire harbor, the beginning of the fjord which Bob was going to sail up in the afternoon, and of course our ship which is this large hulk floating in the very quaint harbor.
We bid Bob adieu so he could have some lunch on board before starting his tour, and we who were staying on land walked up into the village for some lunch. Just a few hundred feet from the port (where every vendor in the world was trying to get some krone from the ship’s passengers by selling junk), was a series of shops lining cobble stoned streets where only the ‘Stavanger-ians’ were shopping, lunching and pushing baby carriages. Marit and I wandered in and out of various shops where the cost of absolutely everything was down-right scary. She said that this was equally expensive for locals. I saw only one chain (McDonalds) otherwise they seemed to be very local shops, or at least ‘locally Scandinavian’.
Next stop was the Fire Tower. This tower was manned since the 12th century where the look-out’s job was to keep a watch out for fires – a fairly common occurrence in this mostly wooden town. When he saw flames, he was to run through the town, like a ‘crier’, stamping this long stave and warning the citizenry. In his ‘off hours’ he was also the one to announce the hours of the day when the fish market was open, when it was time to stop for lunch and when it was time to call it a day after work. The tower was, of course, up at the top of a hill manned with cannons overlooking the harbor. By now my knee was beginning to complain a bit about these cobble stone hilly streets and steep climbs to get views of the town, but we had one more site near our ship – the old town.
Here we meandered along cobble streets enjoying these newly preserved timber homes. These homes had originally been built for the fishermen but as fishing died out the whole area became quite disreputable filled with bums, druggies and other non-desirables. Only in the last twenty years have they been re-gentrified and now, as in many other cities, it is THE place to have a home. Since it is a National Heritage Site, the outside of the homes must remain as they were, but the insides have been modernized and made appropriate for 21st century living. It was a place to take pictures of small lovely gardens peeking out at the harbor below.
But now my knee said I’d had enough, and so Marit and Kjell dropped me at the ship where I awaited the return of Bob from his fjord adventure which he will have to describe below, since I wasn’t there.
Afternoon Tour to the Lysefjord
Returning to the ship at noon, I had just time for a deli sandwich lunch, and to add a warmer sweater. Our group of about 100 boarded our tour boat from the town dock, right under the looming bow of QM2. With traditional lines, but as solid as a tugboat, we were sailing on her for a spectacular ride through two fjords and around forested islands. The sun was shining…the skies blue…temp in low 70’s…and I was on a boat!
After a brief harbor tour, we headed up the Hogsfjord past historic sites relating to early Kings, the National Assembly of 998 AD, and the country’s unification. We passed close aboard a huge salmon farm where specialized ships were sucking thousands of salmon into holding tanks from underneath the ships. They are sorted by size, with the undersized fish returned to the water. First stop on the way to our dinner tables. Next we wended past Adnoy Island, and many multi-million krone summer homes, and quaint little cottages. No gnomes in evidence.
Then, into the dramatic Lysefjord. First, small villages and farms…giving way to dramatic cliffs and steep gorges. It was as if the geological characteristics of all the canyons you’ve ever seen were all in the same place. Here, wooded with dramatic waterfalls…there, sheer rock promontories. We traveled seven miles into the 25 mile fjord, and every view was dramatic and sometimes breathtaking. At one point we steered alongside a ‘mussel farm’, consisting of hundreds of small buoys, or floats. Below the floats were specially treated lines dropping about a thousand feet straight down beneath the water. Zillions of mussels attach themselves, clinging to these lines. When they are ready to be harvested, specially equipped boats raise the float and line, scraping the mussels into tanks, then reset the line for the next batch.
We slowed while the crew fed a family of goats, living on a precarious patch of green meadow at the water’s edge. We slowed again at the base of a waterfall looking for a trio of seals that the captain had seen earlier in the day. The seals follow mackerel into the fjords. The boat sailed, with appropriate dramatic music, under the imposing Pulpit Rock, soaring 1959 feet above the water. These fjords and rock formations were cut by glaciers over 10,000 years ago. As we started back, the boat docked at a small restaurant set at the base of a steep cliff, accessible only from the water. At outdoor picnic tables, we were served Norwegian waffles with sour cream and strawberry jam, hot coffee or tea.
All Aboard! Time to return 100 happy campers to Stavanger. We found out what this sturdy boat was capable of, as we roared back at a steady 28 knots. (That’s fast.) As we approached the city, and QM2, I called Beatrice on my mobile for a photo opportunity as we returned slowly right below our stateroom balcony.
A fabulous day in Stavanger, Norway…and a sunburn to boot!
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Queen Mary from New York to Southampton
Monday June 7th
Once more we are on our favorite transatlantic liner, enjoying the elegance, the comfort, the luxurious sense that we are some of the luckiest people. Our ship embarkation has taken on an almost familiar routine: the limousine to the ship; the check-in process; the smarmy picture in front of the life buoy; the entry to the ship for the first time as we head for our cabin; the unpacking of bags into the familiar nooks and crannies; the spectacular sail-away from New York harbor, and that first evening dinner where we will get to meet our new dining companions for the voyage.
This year, at the Brooklyn Terminal, the only thing that slowed down the routine was the inability to use two gangways for entry. Earlier in the month, during high winds, one of the gang-ways had been damaged…so all passengers had to enter through one gang-way, making for a slower process. But once on board, it was all familiar. It is almost sad that this process is becoming routine. There are no locations on the ship we can’t find, few places we haven’t visited…and while our fellow-guests, perhaps a bit less experienced, are searching for the simplest thing, we parade around as if we owned the ship. I miss not being able to show-off the wonders of this ship to new friends as we did last year, or simply discovering new things on my own. But after six crossings I think we’re sort of expected to know our way around.
The sail away was magical. The weather was warm and sunny, so standing right below the bridge, (our favorite sail away location) we sipped our white wine, looked out at Governor’s Island, the lower tip of Manhattan, the Statue of Liberty, and finally Coney Island once we had slipped under the Verrazano Bridge. That moment is always a delight. With a clearance of only 12 feet, and with one’s perspective askew, you swear that we will ram right into the bridge...but we never do. We were joined by a lovely couple from England who had flown across, enjoyed Las Vegas and one day in New York, and were now sailing home for the first time. He had on the most amazing tie: his prized trophy from NYC – the red iconic sign “I (heart) NY with bright yellow cabs superimposed on top. His wife was a little embarrassed for him, but not very. We haven’t seen them again on the ship, but we’d certainly enjoy having a lunch with them.
Once the scenery had passed and the pilot had left the ship, it was time for us to dress for dinner – the style is euphemistically called “elegant casual” i.e. no jeans, no shorts, but no ties required either. Our dinner companions for this crossing are Norm and Sue Roscoe from Long Island, and Mike and Ann Pallent from England. The latter are celebrating their Golden Wedding anniversary and this crossing was a gift from their children. The Pallent’s are utterly delightful, and our ‘level one’ conversations were lively and amusing. Our main waiter is Rusty from the Philippines, and our room steward is Bert. (Not hard to remember since that is also the name of our travel agent).
Tuesday, June 8th
The first day for lectures. We have at least four speakers: Seth Gopin, an art historian, Flamboyant but topic not inspiring (portraiture in England); Dr. John Emsley, a chemist (discussing molecules, potassium etc); Dr. William Fowler, a maritime historian; and John Berendt ,author of Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil and City of Falling Angels. Some more inspirational, some just plain dull.
Today was the meeting of fellow Cruise Critic.com communicators - a so-so event. A more eclectic group than usual (China, UK, and various parts of the USA) but equally unexciting. After a quick chat, we excused ourselves for other events.
Formal dinner wear was the costume of the evening so we got all dolled up, enjoyed the outfits of all around us, as well as watching the photo sessions occurring up and down the main hallway on Deck 3 where people were having professional pictures taken. These will land up in a box, or if lucky on a fireplace mantle piece as a memory of a lovely time. We had our cocktail in the Chart Room where I tried a new gin – Beefeater 24 – quite smooth and lovely. (It says something about our habits on this ship that two of the bar servers recognized us from prior sails.)
Wednesday June 9th
Room Service breakfast in our robes, and then a busy day of lectures, and a wonderful Classical matinee performance by a pianist named Allan Schiller, who played some favorite ‘virtuoso’ pieces of Chopin, Grieg and others. In the late afternoon I had a new experience – a reflexology session at the Canyon Ranch Spa. Bonnie had recommended it and so I tried it: quite amazing and lovely. I gave no hints or tips to my various bodily ailments, and yet the young reflexologist working only at my feet, found them all. To me it’s a wee bit more scientific than acupuncture but I am not sure I believe all that he told me about touch points in the toes reflecting the entire body. Google and a bit of research are required when internet time doesn’t cost an arm and a leg. But in any case, the results were lovely and I’ll more than likely do it again.
Thursday, June 10th
Amazingly lazy day. The longer the voyage, the less the energy. Though I have made it around the deck twice – three times and I’ll have achieved one damn mile. But with kindle books and comfortable deck chairs, what’s the hurry. The best story today was one Bob overheard in the library. A lady was at the desk and with quite a haughty voice indicated that she wanted her book signed by the captain, but she had seen on the program that the commodore was signing and she was not pleased. The librarian with a gentle resigned voice explained that the commodore was the captain’s boss, so it would really be quite all right.
Our dinner six-some is gelling quite nicely and I’m learning more about cricket than I ever thought I needed in a life-time, but both Mike and Ann are quite fond of the game. And as we come closer to the week-end, the World Cup looms on all soccer-minded passengers. As Mike reminded us, very few of our American sports have world-wide passion. Cricket and Soccer, in part due to colonization, is played in all continents whereas baseball, basketball and football are really primarily American in nature.
It was a night in which sleep eluded me. There was a strange whistling through our door which no amount of towels, paper, banging of doors etc., would cure. If it had been a consistent whine, I might have slept, but it varied in pitch and length and no amount of pillows jammed into cracks would make it stop. A pill did the trick, but it resulted in only a few hours of sleep. Grrrrr. (Not that I had a busy schedule, but it made me nuts). Bob can sleep through anything…and did!
Friday, June 11th
A day filled with enrichment lectures. First, a maritime lecture about the whaling industry from New Bedford, MA. Lots of information learned for the first time. The fact that the whole whaling industry was begun by a group of Quakers form New Bedford; the reason one sailed with a barque is that when the whalers had been lowered to the water in chase of a whale, the barque could be handled from the rear with only a few sailors on board; when the harpooner had gotten the whale, and the Nantucket Sleigh-ride had ended …it was the mate on the whaling ship that made the final coup-de-gras on the whale, not the harpooner; the reason the sailors used scrimshaw was that the teeth of the whale were the one part no one needed and so it was available for artistry; with the arrival of petroleum, the whaling industry was doomed and yet we almost hunted whales to extinction.
From whales to the Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts (RADA), doing a mini-version of Taming of the Shrew …and very well done it was. While waiting for the actors to come on stage, the background music was from the Broadway musical Kiss Me Kate which delighted us all. And as is the case with RADA on board the ship, all key speeches and actions were left in, while all minor themes and speeches were discarded so that the whole production took only one and a half hours. Each of the six performers was excellent and they received well deserved rounds of applause at the end.
Finally, a last lecture of John Berendt which was a Q&A session. My lack of sleep from the night before caught up with me, and while Bob stayed to the end, I fell into bed for a nap before dinner.
During our Chart Room cocktail hour, served by our favorite new bar-man Ken, a most exotic woman came into the bar. She had on a head-piece made up of a peacock feather and one or two other twiggy things sticking up – you couldn’t miss her, and it wasn’t even Ascot Ball Night, when one expects exotic head-gear to be worn by all ladies with a bit of exhibitionist in them. Along with this striking head piece, she wore a most colorful, flowing dress – tie-dye colors but in a richer more exotic gown which she carried with hauteur and style. As she approached the bar for a drink, I complemented her on her head-piece and that launched her into a dramatic level-one description of her life. Katharine Drew Wilkinson, born 1940 in England. Lived in Germany as a young child where her father was part of the occupation army; she ‘escaped’ to the USA in the early 60’s and performed in Oh Calcutta – a very risqué play with a famously nude scene. Next she was off to Southern California where she took on the hippy life and finally landed in Arizona where at the age of 50 she took up the craft of glass-bead making. She had samples in her purse which she proudly showed off, (doesn’t everyone carry sample jewelry to dinner on the Queen Mary?) and next we were shown pictures of her taken by the ship’s photographers. She and a lovely young man she had picked up smiled together for the camera. Unfortunately, her much younger companion had soon dropped her for a much younger woman. All of Katharine’s gestures were large and dramatic, she needed an audience, and when we, her audience, proved either dull, or she’d told all that she wanted to tell, she moved on to charm another group. Having listened to John Berendt talk about eccentric characters, and how he captured characters wherever he wrote, I felt that Katharine would gladly fit inside any book he might write about ship-board eccentrics. [She does have a web site: katedrew-wilkinson.com which I will have to look up].
Saturday, June 12
Laundry Day. While I did two loads, Bob went to a back-stage demonstration at the Royal Court Theater. His most enjoyable part was talking with the six-foot tall head sound man, who explained his environment and equipment to a fellow soundman. In the afternoon we both enjoyed another, excellent, classical piano concert by Allan Shiller. Then a few laps around the deck before falling into a deck chair to stare at the water and read our Kindles.
Dinner was the last formal night and we received a full set of the week’s menus so we could continue to drool over the food we ate, long after we return to Peacham. This is a tradition where the waiters sign the set of menus and with this little act, hope that their tips are a wee bit greater. We took last photographs, and at the end of our meal there was the the Parade of the Chefs where all the hidden people who created our feasts march through the dining room while the audience claps wildly. (With over 150 chefs, it can take quite a while.) Tomorrow is the last day for most travelers, but for us it is just the next in our adventure. This will be a new experience, staying on board while everyone else disembarks, finds their luggage and begins their land adventure.
Once more we are on our favorite transatlantic liner, enjoying the elegance, the comfort, the luxurious sense that we are some of the luckiest people. Our ship embarkation has taken on an almost familiar routine: the limousine to the ship; the check-in process; the smarmy picture in front of the life buoy; the entry to the ship for the first time as we head for our cabin; the unpacking of bags into the familiar nooks and crannies; the spectacular sail-away from New York harbor, and that first evening dinner where we will get to meet our new dining companions for the voyage.
This year, at the Brooklyn Terminal, the only thing that slowed down the routine was the inability to use two gangways for entry. Earlier in the month, during high winds, one of the gang-ways had been damaged…so all passengers had to enter through one gang-way, making for a slower process. But once on board, it was all familiar. It is almost sad that this process is becoming routine. There are no locations on the ship we can’t find, few places we haven’t visited…and while our fellow-guests, perhaps a bit less experienced, are searching for the simplest thing, we parade around as if we owned the ship. I miss not being able to show-off the wonders of this ship to new friends as we did last year, or simply discovering new things on my own. But after six crossings I think we’re sort of expected to know our way around.
The sail away was magical. The weather was warm and sunny, so standing right below the bridge, (our favorite sail away location) we sipped our white wine, looked out at Governor’s Island, the lower tip of Manhattan, the Statue of Liberty, and finally Coney Island once we had slipped under the Verrazano Bridge. That moment is always a delight. With a clearance of only 12 feet, and with one’s perspective askew, you swear that we will ram right into the bridge...but we never do. We were joined by a lovely couple from England who had flown across, enjoyed Las Vegas and one day in New York, and were now sailing home for the first time. He had on the most amazing tie: his prized trophy from NYC – the red iconic sign “I (heart) NY with bright yellow cabs superimposed on top. His wife was a little embarrassed for him, but not very. We haven’t seen them again on the ship, but we’d certainly enjoy having a lunch with them.
Once the scenery had passed and the pilot had left the ship, it was time for us to dress for dinner – the style is euphemistically called “elegant casual” i.e. no jeans, no shorts, but no ties required either. Our dinner companions for this crossing are Norm and Sue Roscoe from Long Island, and Mike and Ann Pallent from England. The latter are celebrating their Golden Wedding anniversary and this crossing was a gift from their children. The Pallent’s are utterly delightful, and our ‘level one’ conversations were lively and amusing. Our main waiter is Rusty from the Philippines, and our room steward is Bert. (Not hard to remember since that is also the name of our travel agent).
Tuesday, June 8th
The first day for lectures. We have at least four speakers: Seth Gopin, an art historian, Flamboyant but topic not inspiring (portraiture in England); Dr. John Emsley, a chemist (discussing molecules, potassium etc); Dr. William Fowler, a maritime historian; and John Berendt ,author of Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil and City of Falling Angels. Some more inspirational, some just plain dull.
Today was the meeting of fellow Cruise Critic.com communicators - a so-so event. A more eclectic group than usual (China, UK, and various parts of the USA) but equally unexciting. After a quick chat, we excused ourselves for other events.
Formal dinner wear was the costume of the evening so we got all dolled up, enjoyed the outfits of all around us, as well as watching the photo sessions occurring up and down the main hallway on Deck 3 where people were having professional pictures taken. These will land up in a box, or if lucky on a fireplace mantle piece as a memory of a lovely time. We had our cocktail in the Chart Room where I tried a new gin – Beefeater 24 – quite smooth and lovely. (It says something about our habits on this ship that two of the bar servers recognized us from prior sails.)
Wednesday June 9th
Room Service breakfast in our robes, and then a busy day of lectures, and a wonderful Classical matinee performance by a pianist named Allan Schiller, who played some favorite ‘virtuoso’ pieces of Chopin, Grieg and others. In the late afternoon I had a new experience – a reflexology session at the Canyon Ranch Spa. Bonnie had recommended it and so I tried it: quite amazing and lovely. I gave no hints or tips to my various bodily ailments, and yet the young reflexologist working only at my feet, found them all. To me it’s a wee bit more scientific than acupuncture but I am not sure I believe all that he told me about touch points in the toes reflecting the entire body. Google and a bit of research are required when internet time doesn’t cost an arm and a leg. But in any case, the results were lovely and I’ll more than likely do it again.
Thursday, June 10th
Amazingly lazy day. The longer the voyage, the less the energy. Though I have made it around the deck twice – three times and I’ll have achieved one damn mile. But with kindle books and comfortable deck chairs, what’s the hurry. The best story today was one Bob overheard in the library. A lady was at the desk and with quite a haughty voice indicated that she wanted her book signed by the captain, but she had seen on the program that the commodore was signing and she was not pleased. The librarian with a gentle resigned voice explained that the commodore was the captain’s boss, so it would really be quite all right.
Our dinner six-some is gelling quite nicely and I’m learning more about cricket than I ever thought I needed in a life-time, but both Mike and Ann are quite fond of the game. And as we come closer to the week-end, the World Cup looms on all soccer-minded passengers. As Mike reminded us, very few of our American sports have world-wide passion. Cricket and Soccer, in part due to colonization, is played in all continents whereas baseball, basketball and football are really primarily American in nature.
It was a night in which sleep eluded me. There was a strange whistling through our door which no amount of towels, paper, banging of doors etc., would cure. If it had been a consistent whine, I might have slept, but it varied in pitch and length and no amount of pillows jammed into cracks would make it stop. A pill did the trick, but it resulted in only a few hours of sleep. Grrrrr. (Not that I had a busy schedule, but it made me nuts). Bob can sleep through anything…and did!
Friday, June 11th
A day filled with enrichment lectures. First, a maritime lecture about the whaling industry from New Bedford, MA. Lots of information learned for the first time. The fact that the whole whaling industry was begun by a group of Quakers form New Bedford; the reason one sailed with a barque is that when the whalers had been lowered to the water in chase of a whale, the barque could be handled from the rear with only a few sailors on board; when the harpooner had gotten the whale, and the Nantucket Sleigh-ride had ended …it was the mate on the whaling ship that made the final coup-de-gras on the whale, not the harpooner; the reason the sailors used scrimshaw was that the teeth of the whale were the one part no one needed and so it was available for artistry; with the arrival of petroleum, the whaling industry was doomed and yet we almost hunted whales to extinction.
From whales to the Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts (RADA), doing a mini-version of Taming of the Shrew …and very well done it was. While waiting for the actors to come on stage, the background music was from the Broadway musical Kiss Me Kate which delighted us all. And as is the case with RADA on board the ship, all key speeches and actions were left in, while all minor themes and speeches were discarded so that the whole production took only one and a half hours. Each of the six performers was excellent and they received well deserved rounds of applause at the end.
Finally, a last lecture of John Berendt which was a Q&A session. My lack of sleep from the night before caught up with me, and while Bob stayed to the end, I fell into bed for a nap before dinner.
During our Chart Room cocktail hour, served by our favorite new bar-man Ken, a most exotic woman came into the bar. She had on a head-piece made up of a peacock feather and one or two other twiggy things sticking up – you couldn’t miss her, and it wasn’t even Ascot Ball Night, when one expects exotic head-gear to be worn by all ladies with a bit of exhibitionist in them. Along with this striking head piece, she wore a most colorful, flowing dress – tie-dye colors but in a richer more exotic gown which she carried with hauteur and style. As she approached the bar for a drink, I complemented her on her head-piece and that launched her into a dramatic level-one description of her life. Katharine Drew Wilkinson, born 1940 in England. Lived in Germany as a young child where her father was part of the occupation army; she ‘escaped’ to the USA in the early 60’s and performed in Oh Calcutta – a very risqué play with a famously nude scene. Next she was off to Southern California where she took on the hippy life and finally landed in Arizona where at the age of 50 she took up the craft of glass-bead making. She had samples in her purse which she proudly showed off, (doesn’t everyone carry sample jewelry to dinner on the Queen Mary?) and next we were shown pictures of her taken by the ship’s photographers. She and a lovely young man she had picked up smiled together for the camera. Unfortunately, her much younger companion had soon dropped her for a much younger woman. All of Katharine’s gestures were large and dramatic, she needed an audience, and when we, her audience, proved either dull, or she’d told all that she wanted to tell, she moved on to charm another group. Having listened to John Berendt talk about eccentric characters, and how he captured characters wherever he wrote, I felt that Katharine would gladly fit inside any book he might write about ship-board eccentrics. [She does have a web site: katedrew-wilkinson.com which I will have to look up].
Saturday, June 12
Laundry Day. While I did two loads, Bob went to a back-stage demonstration at the Royal Court Theater. His most enjoyable part was talking with the six-foot tall head sound man, who explained his environment and equipment to a fellow soundman. In the afternoon we both enjoyed another, excellent, classical piano concert by Allan Shiller. Then a few laps around the deck before falling into a deck chair to stare at the water and read our Kindles.
Dinner was the last formal night and we received a full set of the week’s menus so we could continue to drool over the food we ate, long after we return to Peacham. This is a tradition where the waiters sign the set of menus and with this little act, hope that their tips are a wee bit greater. We took last photographs, and at the end of our meal there was the the Parade of the Chefs where all the hidden people who created our feasts march through the dining room while the audience claps wildly. (With over 150 chefs, it can take quite a while.) Tomorrow is the last day for most travelers, but for us it is just the next in our adventure. This will be a new experience, staying on board while everyone else disembarks, finds their luggage and begins their land adventure.
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