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!
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