Boston, MA, September 8, 2017
I should say, en route to Boston...it's about 3 pm as I write this. We should be in Boston in another 90 minutes or so.
Everyone is quite mellow despite the odd finish to this cruise. First of all, after two days of grey skies, fog and rain it is a gorgeous day. We had pizza and beer for lunch on the back deck. And a good thing we had that beer (well, actually, beer for Jim, Aperole Spritz pour moi) because at the direction of the Customs & Border Protection officials coming on board after we dock, all bars must be closed and no liquor served while they're on board. WTF! They have to do a face to passport inspection of every single passenger (approx 1400) and I'm guessing the crew, too. The wine stewards are even delivering all open wine bottles to our cabins this afternoon. (If you don't finish your bottle of wine with dinner, they put your cabin number on it and store it somewhere until you ask for it the next time.) "Happy Hour" has just been announced for 3-4:30 this afternoon which makes it sound like we're about to arrive in Bean Town on a dry ship!
For those of us with plans to head home tomorrow, the Irma watch is on. I turned on the TV this morning to see that the storm track had been updated to go through Georgia. Good news? I had that suspicious 100' tall poplar out back taken down before we left, the storm won't arrive in Kennesaw until Monday or Tuesday and I just got the "It's time to check in for your flight" email from Delta. I'm crossing my fingers that our flight will go. We chatted with a lady last night who lives on the east coast of Florida on a ranch with horses. She looked a bit gob-smacked. Her son was supposed to be seeing to the horses, although she wasn't quite sure what he was going to do AND her flight to Florida had already been canceled. The airline rebooked her for Monday and she got a room at the Logan Airport Hilton until then. We had dinner one night a week or so ago with a REALLY obnoxious couple from Jacksonville. I would not like to see storm damage there except for their house on their street. If you'd been at that dinner table you would both understand and agree. Several years ago a particularly mean member of my local quilt guild moved to the coast of North Carolina just months ahead of a devastating hurricane. Karma.
We're all packed and ready to drag it all out into the hallway to be picked up by those elves. This is the day that you bid farewell to your favorites, both passengers and crew. Tonight we're having dinner with a couple of fun Australians and a mother/daughter duo from NY all of whom we particularly like. The Australians are staying on board and heading to Montreal. I'm giving them the 4.10 Canadian as a lovely parting gift.
A few days later...
We disembarked early Saturday morning and went straight to the airport. No problems with our flight but everything into Florida had been canceled. Irma had veered west and was now aiming for the west coast of Florida and was scheduled to hit Atlanta Monday-Tuesday. The Delta guy said plans were already in the works to cancel everything heading south before that. But we got to the ATL on schedule. Lots of Florida plates on I-75 heading north. And then lots of unpacking. Left with three bags came back with four.
I've downloaded all photos to the computer and have started to edit and choose. Shuttle fly album to follow. I'll post the info for that.
Irma update: we dodged that bullet. We had rain, 5+", but no great downpours or great gusts. No damage at all.
Wednesday, September 13, 2017
Thursday, September 7, 2017
Halifax, Nova Scotia, Canada, September 7, 2017
Halifax, Nova Scotia, Canada, September 7, 2017
The weather gods finally turned on us. We awoke this morning to mild temperatures near 70F but also fog and rain. We arrived in the harbor at Halifax 7:30-ish. At 8 the captain came over the PA to tell us the wind (near 40 knots straight abeam making impossible to open our balcony door) was pushing the boat away from the dock so he had called for a tug boat to help. At 8:15 he was back on to tell us we were unable to dock so he was heading the boat back out of the (unprotected) harbor.
We had a short trip planned out to the most photographed lighthouse in Canada in Peggy's Cove and then some dockside shopping and sight seeing. Back to the cabin to put away the on shore hats and bags and replace that with a book for Jim and knitting for me.
Several of the knitting ladies live in Florida, fortunately on the west coast but even so, who knows if anything will be flying to Florida on Saturday. The Irma watch is on. At noon the captain was back with us one more time to say he was heading to Boston with arrival late tomorrow afternoon instead of the planned 7 am on Saturday. There are two ships scheduled to leave Boston around that time so he will be able to dock there. I'm not sure if we will be able to get off to do something in Boston then. The "mandatory face to passport immigration inspection" isn't scheduled until Saturday morning. Bulletins as they break.
After lunch I found another Stuart Woods in the library so my afternoon is set. Jim has yet another spy novel to keep him occupied. It's like a snow day but without Netflix. And I still have that 4.10 in Canadian coins.
The weather gods finally turned on us. We awoke this morning to mild temperatures near 70F but also fog and rain. We arrived in the harbor at Halifax 7:30-ish. At 8 the captain came over the PA to tell us the wind (near 40 knots straight abeam making impossible to open our balcony door) was pushing the boat away from the dock so he had called for a tug boat to help. At 8:15 he was back on to tell us we were unable to dock so he was heading the boat back out of the (unprotected) harbor.
We had a short trip planned out to the most photographed lighthouse in Canada in Peggy's Cove and then some dockside shopping and sight seeing. Back to the cabin to put away the on shore hats and bags and replace that with a book for Jim and knitting for me.
Several of the knitting ladies live in Florida, fortunately on the west coast but even so, who knows if anything will be flying to Florida on Saturday. The Irma watch is on. At noon the captain was back with us one more time to say he was heading to Boston with arrival late tomorrow afternoon instead of the planned 7 am on Saturday. There are two ships scheduled to leave Boston around that time so he will be able to dock there. I'm not sure if we will be able to get off to do something in Boston then. The "mandatory face to passport immigration inspection" isn't scheduled until Saturday morning. Bulletins as they break.
After lunch I found another Stuart Woods in the library so my afternoon is set. Jim has yet another spy novel to keep him occupied. It's like a snow day but without Netflix. And I still have that 4.10 in Canadian coins.
Wednesday, September 6, 2017
St. John's, Newfoundland, Canada, September 5, 2017
St. John's, Newfoundland, Canada, September 5, 2017
Last night the captain said we should be up and at 'em in the morning as we approached St. John's to see all the whales and as we entered the harbor through a very narrow pass. The good news was that our arrival was scheduled for 10 am which meant being up and at 'em was fairly painless. Bad news? No whales, just rain as we approached. The pass was very narrow as advertised and by then the sun was peaking through.
In contrast to tiny St. Anthony, St. John's is big and bustling. It's both the capital of Newfoundland and Labrador and the province's largest city. The harbor is packed with fishing boats from dinghy to "Deadliest Catch" size. Once again the Seabourn Quest is sharing the port with us but this time we got the good parking place at the dock right smack dab in the middle of the city.
We'd cancelled a trip out to a lighthouse and planned to just meander around the town. Oh, my. We kept hearing that the city was built on the side of a hill with steep streets that rival San Francisco's. For once, the description matched the reality. Just standing on the deck looking up, up, up we could see a series of streets than run parallel to the waterfront connected by streets that are so steep that the sideWALKS are sideSTAIRS. Dozens, nay, HUNDREDS of stairs to get from the dock up to the museums, cathedrals, gardens that all seem to be up top. And wouldn't you know it, no Hop On, Hop Off bus system.
At the foot of the gangway was a duo playing fiddle and guitar and singing what I gather are provincial songs but the big stars were Gabriel and Odessa, two of those wonderful Newfoundland dogs. They were both sporting kerchiefs of the Newfoundland tartan and were just magnets drawing everyone over to pet and photograph them. I chatted with Odessa's owner a bit. Another one of those incredibly NICE Canadians. I told her I'd love to have a Newfie but I'd have to get a bigger house and a bigger car. She laughed and said they'll fit into the house just fine, it's the transportation that's the problem. She said she has a vintage Honda Element with no back seats to accommodate Odessa. She called it a rolling dog house. Now about the ever present drooling....
I had $4.10 Canadian in coins just burning a hole in my pocket so off we went to shop on Water Street, the next street up that only had a few steps to aid in the climb. There is a lot of fur and leather sold in the Maritime Provinces. The garments look beautiful but would definitely be too much for Georgia and then there's that PETA issue. We debated over some local artwork and then remembered our old-people-who-should-be-downsizing mantra: no decorative stuff crosses our threshold so I ended up back on board with that same 4.10. One more stop in Canada, Halifax, to use it or lose it. You can exchange foreign bills back into US$ but not foreign coins.
I have not told you about some of the entertainers who are now on board, specifically Latin harpist Shirley Domingez, Bernie Fields Harmonica Virtuoso and Devlin, Matador of Magic. At one time you would have seen them and their ilk Sunday nights on the Ed Sullivan Show but now it seems they've all migrated to the cruise ship gigs. The harpist. Shirley plays a small, shiny red harp with individually amplified strings and flashing lights. She either attaches it to a tool belt harness thingy around her waist or to a spinning stand on stage. Now Shirley can play the strings off of that thing but it's just so strange to watch. Devlin wasn't that magical and I must confess I did not go see Bernie. Gotta draw the line somewhere. As on all the ships, the house band is great, ditto, Adagio, the piano/violin duo that we hear every night walking to and from the dining room. The Piano Man at the piano bar seems to have the best gig...maybe an hour or so after dinner. The other night a Motown cover group from England actually got everyone up in the main showroom and singing along to Reach Out. (Love me some Four Tops) After the four guys from Liverpool who tried to sing Four Season songs and failed miserably everyone was a bit dubious that three young guys from London could do the Motown catalog justice but they were great. We saw them at the coffee bar the other morning and told them how much we'd enjoyed their show and they couldn't have been more delightful. Lots of handshaking and thank yous. Rumor has it that these acts get paid well, but it can't be easy going from ship to ship and country to country. It seems that they're always getting off in little Podunk ports and taking itty bitty prop planes to their next gig.
Sea day tomorrow and our turn for the Mariners' Brunch. On each cruise the captain hands out medals to those who have sailed 100, 300, 700 or 1400+ days with HAL. There are so many multiple Mariner's star people on board that they've had to divide up the group and do four of these productions. It's a pretty tedious ceremony, like going to a school play when you don't have a kid in the production, but they keep passing around the wine and Bloody Mary's to dull the senses until it's time to walk to the other end of the ship for brunch. More wine and everyone gets another HAL blue and white tile coaster featuring a drawing of the ship. I've seen them turned into trivets and cheeseboards. I just keep tossing ours into a drawer at home until we have enough to tile wall.
Halifax is our 21st (22nd if you count Boston) and last port of call. We spent last week watching the flooding disasters in and around Houston and now are keeping an eye out on Irma. LOTS of people on board live in Florida and are wondering if they'll be able to get there. We have a morning flight Saturday from Boston to Atlanta which is looking good at this time. If Irma should head into Georgia we can always rent a car and drive to NJ to stay with Jay and Claire. And that sentence was a test to see if either or both or them have been reading this blog!
Last night the captain said we should be up and at 'em in the morning as we approached St. John's to see all the whales and as we entered the harbor through a very narrow pass. The good news was that our arrival was scheduled for 10 am which meant being up and at 'em was fairly painless. Bad news? No whales, just rain as we approached. The pass was very narrow as advertised and by then the sun was peaking through.
In contrast to tiny St. Anthony, St. John's is big and bustling. It's both the capital of Newfoundland and Labrador and the province's largest city. The harbor is packed with fishing boats from dinghy to "Deadliest Catch" size. Once again the Seabourn Quest is sharing the port with us but this time we got the good parking place at the dock right smack dab in the middle of the city.
We'd cancelled a trip out to a lighthouse and planned to just meander around the town. Oh, my. We kept hearing that the city was built on the side of a hill with steep streets that rival San Francisco's. For once, the description matched the reality. Just standing on the deck looking up, up, up we could see a series of streets than run parallel to the waterfront connected by streets that are so steep that the sideWALKS are sideSTAIRS. Dozens, nay, HUNDREDS of stairs to get from the dock up to the museums, cathedrals, gardens that all seem to be up top. And wouldn't you know it, no Hop On, Hop Off bus system.
At the foot of the gangway was a duo playing fiddle and guitar and singing what I gather are provincial songs but the big stars were Gabriel and Odessa, two of those wonderful Newfoundland dogs. They were both sporting kerchiefs of the Newfoundland tartan and were just magnets drawing everyone over to pet and photograph them. I chatted with Odessa's owner a bit. Another one of those incredibly NICE Canadians. I told her I'd love to have a Newfie but I'd have to get a bigger house and a bigger car. She laughed and said they'll fit into the house just fine, it's the transportation that's the problem. She said she has a vintage Honda Element with no back seats to accommodate Odessa. She called it a rolling dog house. Now about the ever present drooling....
I had $4.10 Canadian in coins just burning a hole in my pocket so off we went to shop on Water Street, the next street up that only had a few steps to aid in the climb. There is a lot of fur and leather sold in the Maritime Provinces. The garments look beautiful but would definitely be too much for Georgia and then there's that PETA issue. We debated over some local artwork and then remembered our old-people-who-should-be-downsizing mantra: no decorative stuff crosses our threshold so I ended up back on board with that same 4.10. One more stop in Canada, Halifax, to use it or lose it. You can exchange foreign bills back into US$ but not foreign coins.
I have not told you about some of the entertainers who are now on board, specifically Latin harpist Shirley Domingez, Bernie Fields Harmonica Virtuoso and Devlin, Matador of Magic. At one time you would have seen them and their ilk Sunday nights on the Ed Sullivan Show but now it seems they've all migrated to the cruise ship gigs. The harpist. Shirley plays a small, shiny red harp with individually amplified strings and flashing lights. She either attaches it to a tool belt harness thingy around her waist or to a spinning stand on stage. Now Shirley can play the strings off of that thing but it's just so strange to watch. Devlin wasn't that magical and I must confess I did not go see Bernie. Gotta draw the line somewhere. As on all the ships, the house band is great, ditto, Adagio, the piano/violin duo that we hear every night walking to and from the dining room. The Piano Man at the piano bar seems to have the best gig...maybe an hour or so after dinner. The other night a Motown cover group from England actually got everyone up in the main showroom and singing along to Reach Out. (Love me some Four Tops) After the four guys from Liverpool who tried to sing Four Season songs and failed miserably everyone was a bit dubious that three young guys from London could do the Motown catalog justice but they were great. We saw them at the coffee bar the other morning and told them how much we'd enjoyed their show and they couldn't have been more delightful. Lots of handshaking and thank yous. Rumor has it that these acts get paid well, but it can't be easy going from ship to ship and country to country. It seems that they're always getting off in little Podunk ports and taking itty bitty prop planes to their next gig.
Sea day tomorrow and our turn for the Mariners' Brunch. On each cruise the captain hands out medals to those who have sailed 100, 300, 700 or 1400+ days with HAL. There are so many multiple Mariner's star people on board that they've had to divide up the group and do four of these productions. It's a pretty tedious ceremony, like going to a school play when you don't have a kid in the production, but they keep passing around the wine and Bloody Mary's to dull the senses until it's time to walk to the other end of the ship for brunch. More wine and everyone gets another HAL blue and white tile coaster featuring a drawing of the ship. I've seen them turned into trivets and cheeseboards. I just keep tossing ours into a drawer at home until we have enough to tile wall.
Halifax is our 21st (22nd if you count Boston) and last port of call. We spent last week watching the flooding disasters in and around Houston and now are keeping an eye out on Irma. LOTS of people on board live in Florida and are wondering if they'll be able to get there. We have a morning flight Saturday from Boston to Atlanta which is looking good at this time. If Irma should head into Georgia we can always rent a car and drive to NJ to stay with Jay and Claire. And that sentence was a test to see if either or both or them have been reading this blog!
St. Anthony, Newfoundland, Canada, September 3, 2017
St. Anthony, Newfoundland, Canada, September 3, 2017
This morning as we were having breakfast a whale appeared right next to the ship. Spot whale on trip--check. Now we didn't feel guilty about cancelling the whale watching trip we'd scheduled at this stop.
The day was sunny with blue skies so we took the tender to shore. We were parked way outside of the harbor. The harbor is large but has no dock big enough for a cruise ship. Everyone is mollified because this is the last tender port of the trip.
St. Anthony was settled in the 16th century (the Vikings were nearby around 1000 AD) as a well-protected but seasonal fishing station. There are still a number of fishing boats, although now it's shrimp and crab instead of cod, but tourism is the big industry. The excursions ranged from a visit to the Viking site at L'Anse Aux Meadows to hiking and whale watching. We, on the other hand just strolled around a bit. The town is really spread out around the harbor. The Canadians all made a bee line for Tim Horton's, a national chain of donut/coffee shops. We spent some time and $$$ in the Grenfell Handicrafts Gift Store.
As we learned from the local ladies who were handing out maps and info, they get snow here. A LOT of snow here. AND the harbor freezes. So everything in St. Anthony is seasonal. They had only seen four cruise ships over the summer but SA is on a lot of itineraries in the fall on the NY/Boston to Montreal/Quebec cruises. Wisely the residents use their down time in the winter to make stuff to sell: jams from Cloud Berries, Christmas ornaments from oyster shells, stained glass, and metal, quilted items, hooked rugs, paintings, note cards and on and on. And the stuff is high quality. They also had the usual Tshirts, magnets, post cards, etc; something in every price range. I decided to support the local arts by buying a hooked rug (actually a wall hanging about 12 x 18) of a jumping fish that will go on the Fish Wall of the beach cottage and some lovely note cards by another local artist. I do my best to extend the hand of friendship across all borders.
I asked the locals how to pronounce Newfoundland. We've heard New FOUNDland, Newfunlund, and more. They said the syllable emphasis is just as in "understand." UnderSTAND, NewfundLAND. I shall go forth and teach the masses. They also told me my rug was made in Raleigh, pronounced "Rally." We decided that was so Raleigh, Newfoundland would not be confused with Raleigh, North Carolina.
Worst part of this day? Since we're in Canada all their cellphones are up and running. Still off that grid myself.
This morning as we were having breakfast a whale appeared right next to the ship. Spot whale on trip--check. Now we didn't feel guilty about cancelling the whale watching trip we'd scheduled at this stop.
The day was sunny with blue skies so we took the tender to shore. We were parked way outside of the harbor. The harbor is large but has no dock big enough for a cruise ship. Everyone is mollified because this is the last tender port of the trip.
St. Anthony was settled in the 16th century (the Vikings were nearby around 1000 AD) as a well-protected but seasonal fishing station. There are still a number of fishing boats, although now it's shrimp and crab instead of cod, but tourism is the big industry. The excursions ranged from a visit to the Viking site at L'Anse Aux Meadows to hiking and whale watching. We, on the other hand just strolled around a bit. The town is really spread out around the harbor. The Canadians all made a bee line for Tim Horton's, a national chain of donut/coffee shops. We spent some time and $$$ in the Grenfell Handicrafts Gift Store.
As we learned from the local ladies who were handing out maps and info, they get snow here. A LOT of snow here. AND the harbor freezes. So everything in St. Anthony is seasonal. They had only seen four cruise ships over the summer but SA is on a lot of itineraries in the fall on the NY/Boston to Montreal/Quebec cruises. Wisely the residents use their down time in the winter to make stuff to sell: jams from Cloud Berries, Christmas ornaments from oyster shells, stained glass, and metal, quilted items, hooked rugs, paintings, note cards and on and on. And the stuff is high quality. They also had the usual Tshirts, magnets, post cards, etc; something in every price range. I decided to support the local arts by buying a hooked rug (actually a wall hanging about 12 x 18) of a jumping fish that will go on the Fish Wall of the beach cottage and some lovely note cards by another local artist. I do my best to extend the hand of friendship across all borders.
I asked the locals how to pronounce Newfoundland. We've heard New FOUNDland, Newfunlund, and more. They said the syllable emphasis is just as in "understand." UnderSTAND, NewfundLAND. I shall go forth and teach the masses. They also told me my rug was made in Raleigh, pronounced "Rally." We decided that was so Raleigh, Newfoundland would not be confused with Raleigh, North Carolina.
Worst part of this day? Since we're in Canada all their cellphones are up and running. Still off that grid myself.
Monday, September 4, 2017
Nanortalik, Greenland, September 2, 2017
Nanortalik, Greenland, September 2, 2017
I wish I could include sounds with this. The Seabourn Quest from a sister company to Holland America was also anchored off Nanortalik today. Our captain knew their captain (I'm guessing that the cruise line captain world is a small one) so when we left there was an exchange of horn blasts between the ships. The Seabourn is a bit smaller and its sound a bit thinner but sometimes it seems that a line in the building budget for the Dam ships is for Big, Loud, Thunderous Noise. The captain really let 'er rip today.
He also told us that last night as we arrived in Nanortalk one of the Greenland pilots on board saw some Northern Lights. Just damn! I don't care if it was 3 am, a heads up would have been welcome. He also said that they used special searchlights mounted on the bow to locate ice. Must have worked. There are still some fairly good-sized bergs about but they are melting fast. Today in the sun it was in the low 50s.
Jim mused the other day whether HAL finds the port stops or do the ports lobby HAL to call in. I'm not quite sure why we spent a day getting to this little village on this island in the archipelago off the southern end of Greenland. We did have a splendid day weather-wise---bright sun and blue skies which NEVER happens here. The locals had a couple of shows for the visitors and an open air museum but Jim and I just walked around for 30 minutes and then took the tender back to the ship. If we had stopped on the outbound leg I might have been more enthusiastic, but another little settlement on another barren spit of land just didn't do it for me. I didn't see anything I had to have. They did have some of the usual souvenir T-shirts and magnets but most of the good stuff was made of sealskin (primary industries are crabbing and seal hunting) which is not allowed into the US. Plus, ewwwww. I know they hunt the seals for food and clothing but it's not for me.
Now we're on to Newfoundland which means set the clock back 30 minutes to coordinate with their odd time zone.
Addendum
After Nanortalik we had a sea day. It was a little sloppy in the morning--well, actually I think the captain said gale force winds but the seas weren't extreme enough to cause discomfort as long as you keep "one hand for the boat." In other words, when going from point A to point B or especially up or down the stairs, one hand on the railing.
The ice pilots, two Danish guys, both retired ship captains and long-time ice pilots, did an "Ask the Pilots" hour with the passengers. The waters around Greenland are not electronically charted so it's paper charts and pilots familiar with the area for any ship carrying 250 or more passengers. Interestingly enough, it's a Greenland law and a Greenland company that supplies the pilots. Hey, everybody's gotta make a buck. The two pilots were fairly droll but gamely answered the same questions I'm sure they've heard a thousand times. We did learn that we were preceded into the Prince Christian Sund yesterday by a Danish Navy ship and the helicopter flying around us was from that ship. Both were sending our ship info on the ice conditions ahead.
The Sund can be clear of ice one day and impassible because of it the next. The pilots said that they receive satellite photos daily which makes the decision to enter the Sund much more informed. Before these daily images and helicopters it was not unusual to get partway and then have to turn around and head out. They figure the passage is completely clear about 30% of the time. The Sund itself does not freeze because of the constant currents but the icebergs that come down from the coast of Greenland cause the blockage.
One person asked what were the most dangerous conditions between Canada and Iceland and Pilot Fritz replied, "Darkness, fog and icebergs." You could actually hear the gears turning in all our heads as we all thought at the same time, "Last night it was dark, foggy and there were icebergs!" The radar picks up the big stuff and the light from the search lights on the bow bounces off the smaller ice "so we can dodge it." Now we know why they have the Ask the Pilots AFTER we've gone past all that.
It's Sharks and Jets time with the Knitters and a large group who all booked through the same travel agency in Seattle. The Cruise Specialists have commandeered half of the Explorer's Lounge for coffee and chat at 11 am on every sea day. The Knitters have planted their flag in one corner of the Crow's Nest (great chairs and light) at 10 am on sea days They have also been lobbying Jans the Cruise Director constantly to include the time and place when the Knitters meet in the daily "When & Where" program. That hasn't happened but suddenly one day as we were all up in the Crow's Nest, needles flying, solving the world's problems, Jans comes on the ship's PA system to announce that the Knitters would be meeting at 11 am in the Explorer's Lounge. Uh, oh. But we decided we better bounce down there and be seen and suddenly there are two groups trying to occupy the same place. Fortunately the Knitters got there before the Cruise Specialists and established a beachhead.
Jans is young, evasive and pretty much useless. Rumor has it he moved over to HAL from (shudder) Carnival which means his experience and sea days pretty much involve four or five day rum runs to the Bahamas or Cozumel from Miami or even (more shuddering) from Mobile! The Knitters sussed this out on Day Two of the 38 day cruise and pretty much have run rough shod over the guy and straight to LaLa, the Event Coordinator not the NBA wife. LaLa has a lot more experience dealing with repeat customers of a certain age. She weighed the number of people that one travel agency brought on board against the number of stars and sea days the 25 or so knitters have and like magic, the Cruise Specialists can have the Explorer's Lounge and the Knitters the Crow's Nest with a waiter thrown in to move chairs and fetch ice water. Everyone's happy, confrontation is avoided and peace restored in the floating country that is the Rotterdam.
The Knitters continue to debate Jansfate.
I wish I could include sounds with this. The Seabourn Quest from a sister company to Holland America was also anchored off Nanortalik today. Our captain knew their captain (I'm guessing that the cruise line captain world is a small one) so when we left there was an exchange of horn blasts between the ships. The Seabourn is a bit smaller and its sound a bit thinner but sometimes it seems that a line in the building budget for the Dam ships is for Big, Loud, Thunderous Noise. The captain really let 'er rip today.
He also told us that last night as we arrived in Nanortalk one of the Greenland pilots on board saw some Northern Lights. Just damn! I don't care if it was 3 am, a heads up would have been welcome. He also said that they used special searchlights mounted on the bow to locate ice. Must have worked. There are still some fairly good-sized bergs about but they are melting fast. Today in the sun it was in the low 50s.
Jim mused the other day whether HAL finds the port stops or do the ports lobby HAL to call in. I'm not quite sure why we spent a day getting to this little village on this island in the archipelago off the southern end of Greenland. We did have a splendid day weather-wise---bright sun and blue skies which NEVER happens here. The locals had a couple of shows for the visitors and an open air museum but Jim and I just walked around for 30 minutes and then took the tender back to the ship. If we had stopped on the outbound leg I might have been more enthusiastic, but another little settlement on another barren spit of land just didn't do it for me. I didn't see anything I had to have. They did have some of the usual souvenir T-shirts and magnets but most of the good stuff was made of sealskin (primary industries are crabbing and seal hunting) which is not allowed into the US. Plus, ewwwww. I know they hunt the seals for food and clothing but it's not for me.
Now we're on to Newfoundland which means set the clock back 30 minutes to coordinate with their odd time zone.
Addendum
After Nanortalik we had a sea day. It was a little sloppy in the morning--well, actually I think the captain said gale force winds but the seas weren't extreme enough to cause discomfort as long as you keep "one hand for the boat." In other words, when going from point A to point B or especially up or down the stairs, one hand on the railing.
The ice pilots, two Danish guys, both retired ship captains and long-time ice pilots, did an "Ask the Pilots" hour with the passengers. The waters around Greenland are not electronically charted so it's paper charts and pilots familiar with the area for any ship carrying 250 or more passengers. Interestingly enough, it's a Greenland law and a Greenland company that supplies the pilots. Hey, everybody's gotta make a buck. The two pilots were fairly droll but gamely answered the same questions I'm sure they've heard a thousand times. We did learn that we were preceded into the Prince Christian Sund yesterday by a Danish Navy ship and the helicopter flying around us was from that ship. Both were sending our ship info on the ice conditions ahead.
The Sund can be clear of ice one day and impassible because of it the next. The pilots said that they receive satellite photos daily which makes the decision to enter the Sund much more informed. Before these daily images and helicopters it was not unusual to get partway and then have to turn around and head out. They figure the passage is completely clear about 30% of the time. The Sund itself does not freeze because of the constant currents but the icebergs that come down from the coast of Greenland cause the blockage.
One person asked what were the most dangerous conditions between Canada and Iceland and Pilot Fritz replied, "Darkness, fog and icebergs." You could actually hear the gears turning in all our heads as we all thought at the same time, "Last night it was dark, foggy and there were icebergs!" The radar picks up the big stuff and the light from the search lights on the bow bounces off the smaller ice "so we can dodge it." Now we know why they have the Ask the Pilots AFTER we've gone past all that.
It's Sharks and Jets time with the Knitters and a large group who all booked through the same travel agency in Seattle. The Cruise Specialists have commandeered half of the Explorer's Lounge for coffee and chat at 11 am on every sea day. The Knitters have planted their flag in one corner of the Crow's Nest (great chairs and light) at 10 am on sea days They have also been lobbying Jans the Cruise Director constantly to include the time and place when the Knitters meet in the daily "When & Where" program. That hasn't happened but suddenly one day as we were all up in the Crow's Nest, needles flying, solving the world's problems, Jans comes on the ship's PA system to announce that the Knitters would be meeting at 11 am in the Explorer's Lounge. Uh, oh. But we decided we better bounce down there and be seen and suddenly there are two groups trying to occupy the same place. Fortunately the Knitters got there before the Cruise Specialists and established a beachhead.
Jans is young, evasive and pretty much useless. Rumor has it he moved over to HAL from (shudder) Carnival which means his experience and sea days pretty much involve four or five day rum runs to the Bahamas or Cozumel from Miami or even (more shuddering) from Mobile! The Knitters sussed this out on Day Two of the 38 day cruise and pretty much have run rough shod over the guy and straight to LaLa, the Event Coordinator not the NBA wife. LaLa has a lot more experience dealing with repeat customers of a certain age. She weighed the number of people that one travel agency brought on board against the number of stars and sea days the 25 or so knitters have and like magic, the Cruise Specialists can have the Explorer's Lounge and the Knitters the Crow's Nest with a waiter thrown in to move chairs and fetch ice water. Everyone's happy, confrontation is avoided and peace restored in the floating country that is the Rotterdam.
The Knitters continue to debate Jansfate.
Friday, September 1, 2017
Prince Christian Sund, Greenland, September 1, 2017
Prince Christian Sund, Greenland, September 1, 2017
On the eastbound leg of this trip we couldn't make it through the Prince Christian Sund. Ice had blocked the eastern opening. This time we awoke to blue skies and sun (!) and an ice-free entrance to the Sund.
As we approached, around 9 am ship's time, I first saw a grey pyramid structure rising above the mists at sea level, then a lot of splashing around and then ice. First was a navy destroyer (and considering their record lately, it was comforting to see it w-a-y off to port), next whales and then icebergs. And then the "spotter" helicopter flew several loops overhead as he communicated with the bridge about conditions ahead. Goooooood Morning, Greenland.
The Sund is just 36 km long but we'll spend all day going through it. When an especially impressive glacier is spotted the captain stops the ship and then does a 360 so everyone on board gets a good view. He also goes in and out of the odd fjord, once again giving everyone a chance to enjoy it without having to scramble from one side of the ship to the other. The forward deck is open to passengers. I walked around the promenade deck taking pictures and wishing I'd worn a heavier jacket but when I got out on the deck it was bright and sunny and quite comfortable, in the mid-50s. Lots of people, both passengers and crew, we're taking pictures like mad. The weather so far north is so quixotic that no one wants to waste a perfect day.
Just as Iceland is the newest spot on earth, Greenland is one of the oldest. It is part of the American plate, in fact connected to Canada by an underwater land bridge. The island rises straight up from the water, no shoreline at all. The mountains are creased and rounded, looking like the surface of a brain. There isn't any vegetation to speak of, just mossy spots. But there are glaciers along the peaks and then occasionally massive ones that have made valleys as they moved to the sea. It's so quiet until you hear something that sounds like freeway traffic but is really water from melting glaciers running down the mountains and finally tumbling into the sea. The rocks and gravel dragged into the sea by the moving ice turns the water a milky, emerald color. It looks much like the water along the Gulf coast of Florida except this stuff is about 50 degrees colder.
There really isn't anything other than birds flying by to give an idea of how big all this is. We've seen some decent size icebergs, rounded from melting in the warm sun. Lots of smaller bits of ice floating on the surface. Once again, hard to judge the size. We have two ice pilots from Greenland on board. I'm guessing they KNOW the size. Which reminds me in a round about way that there is a tour in Halifax, Nova Scotia that stops at the cemetery where 121 victims of the Titanic sinking are buried. I'm thinking that even a century later when you arrive by cruise ship, too soon.
On the eastbound leg of this trip we couldn't make it through the Prince Christian Sund. Ice had blocked the eastern opening. This time we awoke to blue skies and sun (!) and an ice-free entrance to the Sund.
As we approached, around 9 am ship's time, I first saw a grey pyramid structure rising above the mists at sea level, then a lot of splashing around and then ice. First was a navy destroyer (and considering their record lately, it was comforting to see it w-a-y off to port), next whales and then icebergs. And then the "spotter" helicopter flew several loops overhead as he communicated with the bridge about conditions ahead. Goooooood Morning, Greenland.
The Sund is just 36 km long but we'll spend all day going through it. When an especially impressive glacier is spotted the captain stops the ship and then does a 360 so everyone on board gets a good view. He also goes in and out of the odd fjord, once again giving everyone a chance to enjoy it without having to scramble from one side of the ship to the other. The forward deck is open to passengers. I walked around the promenade deck taking pictures and wishing I'd worn a heavier jacket but when I got out on the deck it was bright and sunny and quite comfortable, in the mid-50s. Lots of people, both passengers and crew, we're taking pictures like mad. The weather so far north is so quixotic that no one wants to waste a perfect day.
Just as Iceland is the newest spot on earth, Greenland is one of the oldest. It is part of the American plate, in fact connected to Canada by an underwater land bridge. The island rises straight up from the water, no shoreline at all. The mountains are creased and rounded, looking like the surface of a brain. There isn't any vegetation to speak of, just mossy spots. But there are glaciers along the peaks and then occasionally massive ones that have made valleys as they moved to the sea. It's so quiet until you hear something that sounds like freeway traffic but is really water from melting glaciers running down the mountains and finally tumbling into the sea. The rocks and gravel dragged into the sea by the moving ice turns the water a milky, emerald color. It looks much like the water along the Gulf coast of Florida except this stuff is about 50 degrees colder.
There really isn't anything other than birds flying by to give an idea of how big all this is. We've seen some decent size icebergs, rounded from melting in the warm sun. Lots of smaller bits of ice floating on the surface. Once again, hard to judge the size. We have two ice pilots from Greenland on board. I'm guessing they KNOW the size. Which reminds me in a round about way that there is a tour in Halifax, Nova Scotia that stops at the cemetery where 121 victims of the Titanic sinking are buried. I'm thinking that even a century later when you arrive by cruise ship, too soon.
Iceland, August 28-30, 2017
Iceland, August 28-30, 2017
Djupivogur
As we sailed across from Scotland the captain was hedging his bets just in case the conditions made tendering too dangerous. Djupivogur is located on a big OPEN bay with little protection from the elements. The captain can maneuver the ship so it provides shelter from wind but the swells and currents make it all dicey; the big ship moves up and down minimally but the tenders bob like crazy and not in sync so it takes longer to get people from ship to tender and vice versa.
We arrived to fairly calm seas and winds but a brisk 48F and constant drizzle/rain. We didn't have anything special planned. The town, population 460, belongs to the international Cittaslow movement and as such celebrates its history, culture and unspoiled environment. Most of the HAL excursions involved going. Somewhere else by bus, 4 x 4 or boat at prices outrageous even for HAL. Even though the tenders were zipping back and forth I decided to give Djupivogur a pass and go upstairs to knit. We could see the entire settlement from the windows. One of the knitters had gone ashore, toured the town (bought yarn at the supermarket) and returned to give us a tour through the windows, pointing to the various landmarks as we stayed high and dry inside.
The town has two grocery stores, three restaurants, a community pool and rec center, medical services, police, art galleries and the Gledivik Eggs---an outdoor sculpture garden representing the eggs of the 34 birds that breed locally. Jim decided to go ashore mid-morning when the rain had stopped. He poked around for a while, walked by a dozen or so of the eggs and then came back. He said it was pleasant but my life would not suffer because I didn't wanna get wet.
That night Naki Ataman, the Turkish pianist, played again. We saw/heard him on another cruise years ago and he remains an astonishing artist. Joined by the bassist and percussionist from the Rotterdam band he plays essentially a 45 minute medley from memory as the other two sight read their parts. The first night he played songs representing various countries around the world and the second another medley, this time romantic songs. The description makes it sound hokey but he's an excellent musician moving through styles with ease. The guy plays a whole lotta notes! A real crowd pleaser.
Akureyri
Our Port Guide called Akureyri "a thriving port town...nicknamed the capital of North Iceland." It's definitely a lot bigger than Djupivogur AND we will be docked which always makes a port visit that much easier.
Northwest Iceland is the oldest, geologically, part of the island. We decided to go on a tour outside of town so we could see for ourselves. Even though this is the driest area of the country, once again it was cold and wet. Everyone had broken out their hats, scarves and gloves. When you get to your tour bus and find your guide dressed in a fur-lined parka it's hard to remember that this is summer, even in Iceland! I can't begin to pronounce or spell our guides name so let's just call her Jane.
Jane was born and raised on a farm in NW Iceland. Farming in this area means sheep, cows and horses. The only crops grown are a lot of hay and some corn to feed the livestock over the winter. Each farm has large outbuildings (Jane said she has learned that in English there is a BIG difference between out house and out building) to house the animals over the winter, from November to May. The horses and cows stay close to home but the sheep wander everywhere. You talk about free range! Jane said it's about time for the sheep to be wrangled by dogs and shepherds on foot or horseback plus any other means, generally kids and college students.
Our first stop was at the spectacular Godafoss (falls of the gods) waterfall, so named because after the Viking settlers had converted to Christianity they supposedly threw all the icons of their various gods into the falls. Like the Gullfoss near Reykjavik, you can first see the mist, then hear the thundering sound before catching sight of the falls. And also like Gullfoss, the falls are much wider than they are tall. So much water rushing, rushing, rushing.
Then to the geothermal field of Namaskard. First we saw the steam and then we smelled the sulfur. Jane had warned us over and over to stay on the paths (the clay crust can be thin and give way should you take a shortcut dumping you into a caldron of boiling goo. Didn't have to tell me twice!), don't stand directly in the belching steam (it's sulfuric and can etch eyeglasses) and be sure to scuff through the low grass to clean the noxious whatever off the bottom of your shoes. What a place! The sulfur has colored the surface a deep, rich yellow. Nothing grows there. It's a flat area with gasses spewing up here and there, clay bubbling in other spots and is other worldly. I could probably use those two words in every other sentence to describe Iceland. It's as if you're watching the earth form.
And speaking of the earth forming, we also went to the lava labyrinth at Dimmuborgir. I don't know what I expected but this is an area of towering lava peaks, arches and grottos right along the rift between the Eurasian and American tectonic plates. In one spot Jane could stand with one foot in Europe and the other across the rift in America. The rift grows at the rate of 2 centimeters a year, about 3/4 of an inch. We wandered along the various walking paths looking up at the lava towers spotting animals the way you would looking up at clouds. After lunch (soup, fish and boiled potatoes) we walked around and through the Skutustadir Craters, sharing the area with, what else, sheep, and many independent travelers all driving white Toyota RAV4 4s, evidently the rental car of choice in Iceland.
There is a botanical garden in Akureyri containing nearly every native plant and thousands of foreign plants but we didn't get back to town in time to visit it. Next time.
Isafjordur
Surprise! We got to dock rather than anchor. This lovely town actually is the capital of the rugged Westfjord region. We sailed above the Arctic Circle and then back to get here and now have certificates to prove it, thank you, very much. Fishing is the big industry but tourism is growing. And it's still in the 40s and still cloudy and grey. Fish farms are located at the entrances of harbors and fjords--salmon, trout, Arctic char--where the tides keep the water moving.
I'd read about Skrudur, the first Icelandic botanic garden founded in 1909, so we decided to go see it. Our guide was Theresa, a German student pursuing her Masters in marine ecology at the university in Isafjordur. Jim chatted with her a while about how she ended up in Iceland. It was a combination of the program and living away from home that attracted her and now who knows if she'll ever leave. If you're studying fish, like the outdoors and enjoy winter sports, this is the place for you.
We had a wonderful morning, first driving through a long tunnel (6 minutes, 25 seconds) to the garden. It's only twenty meters square, but continues as a testament to the Reverend Gudlaugson, who arrived to be the parish priest and used the garden to teach students about botany and especially the cultivation of trees. Reforestation has been a goal in Iceland for generations, whether in planned tree farms or trees planted in back yards. The garden thrived until the school was closed in 1980. In 1992 a group of volunteers began to renovate and restore the garden. It's now a memorial to itself as well as an example of horticultural potential in such an unforgiving climate. The original trees are still there as well as shoulder high hedges loaded with red currants that line the paths.
Then we headed to Flateyri, a small village that was once the center of shark fishing. We spent some quiet minutes in the small church listening to another student from Isafjordur sing a few Icelandic hymns and folk songs. This church was spared from destruction by an avalanche that swept through the village in the 90s. Slides and avalanches are a constant threat in this area. After that killer slide a massive dirt wall in the shape of a capital A has been constructed on the hillside above the town to divert any future avalanches or slides. We had a delicious coffee and snack break at the cafe in town, disappointed that the quirky century old bookstore was closed. Tiny Isafjordur has been visited by over 100 cruise ships this season and maybe the shop owner just needed a break.
This time we got back to the ship in time to visit the town, specifically the yarn shop! Towns in Iceland are very clean and tidy. There aren't that many cars so you can wander about without worrying about getting flattened as you cross the (narrow) streets. I bought some yarn and a few souvenirs. Shopping in Iceland is easy--100 Krone = $ 1 US so converting prices requires nothing more than moving the decimal point over two places. So much easier than dividing by this or multiplying by that. While the merchant might take Euros or dollars, they much prefer Krone or credit cards. Makes it easier for us, too. We never even got any Krone. Well, Jim did buy some coins at the yarn shop. More golf ball markers.
After sailing out of the fjord we're heading toward Greenland and one more stab at cruising the entire Prince Christian Sund before stopping at one last port there. And maybe we'll see the sun. It's been nothing but grey for days. Grey water. Grey skies. Grey clouds. People are starting to get a bit crabby---massive lack of sunshine vitamin D?
We did spot a few whales spouting as we were leaving one of the fjords and some dolphins escorted us into another but no puffins. They supposedly number in the hundreds of thousands if not millions but they might as well be unicorns with wings and beaks. The closest we came to seeing any were the stuffed puffin toys in the gift shops.
I wouldn't mind returning to Iceland, especially the northwest. It's weird and odd, austere and beautiful and the sheep have the right of way. I'd love to see the Northern Lights, but Theresa said they get lots of snow. The great circle road around the island is passable but the regular flights to and from Reykjavik are often canceled. That trip might stay on the back burner for a while.
Before I forget...a couple we've had dinner with a few times actually went to Costco in Liverpool. They said it looks exactly like every other Costco. And yes, they do sell the hot dog and soda for one pound fifty, a bit less than two bucks.
Djupivogur
As we sailed across from Scotland the captain was hedging his bets just in case the conditions made tendering too dangerous. Djupivogur is located on a big OPEN bay with little protection from the elements. The captain can maneuver the ship so it provides shelter from wind but the swells and currents make it all dicey; the big ship moves up and down minimally but the tenders bob like crazy and not in sync so it takes longer to get people from ship to tender and vice versa.
We arrived to fairly calm seas and winds but a brisk 48F and constant drizzle/rain. We didn't have anything special planned. The town, population 460, belongs to the international Cittaslow movement and as such celebrates its history, culture and unspoiled environment. Most of the HAL excursions involved going. Somewhere else by bus, 4 x 4 or boat at prices outrageous even for HAL. Even though the tenders were zipping back and forth I decided to give Djupivogur a pass and go upstairs to knit. We could see the entire settlement from the windows. One of the knitters had gone ashore, toured the town (bought yarn at the supermarket) and returned to give us a tour through the windows, pointing to the various landmarks as we stayed high and dry inside.
The town has two grocery stores, three restaurants, a community pool and rec center, medical services, police, art galleries and the Gledivik Eggs---an outdoor sculpture garden representing the eggs of the 34 birds that breed locally. Jim decided to go ashore mid-morning when the rain had stopped. He poked around for a while, walked by a dozen or so of the eggs and then came back. He said it was pleasant but my life would not suffer because I didn't wanna get wet.
That night Naki Ataman, the Turkish pianist, played again. We saw/heard him on another cruise years ago and he remains an astonishing artist. Joined by the bassist and percussionist from the Rotterdam band he plays essentially a 45 minute medley from memory as the other two sight read their parts. The first night he played songs representing various countries around the world and the second another medley, this time romantic songs. The description makes it sound hokey but he's an excellent musician moving through styles with ease. The guy plays a whole lotta notes! A real crowd pleaser.
Akureyri
Our Port Guide called Akureyri "a thriving port town...nicknamed the capital of North Iceland." It's definitely a lot bigger than Djupivogur AND we will be docked which always makes a port visit that much easier.
Northwest Iceland is the oldest, geologically, part of the island. We decided to go on a tour outside of town so we could see for ourselves. Even though this is the driest area of the country, once again it was cold and wet. Everyone had broken out their hats, scarves and gloves. When you get to your tour bus and find your guide dressed in a fur-lined parka it's hard to remember that this is summer, even in Iceland! I can't begin to pronounce or spell our guides name so let's just call her Jane.
Jane was born and raised on a farm in NW Iceland. Farming in this area means sheep, cows and horses. The only crops grown are a lot of hay and some corn to feed the livestock over the winter. Each farm has large outbuildings (Jane said she has learned that in English there is a BIG difference between out house and out building) to house the animals over the winter, from November to May. The horses and cows stay close to home but the sheep wander everywhere. You talk about free range! Jane said it's about time for the sheep to be wrangled by dogs and shepherds on foot or horseback plus any other means, generally kids and college students.
Our first stop was at the spectacular Godafoss (falls of the gods) waterfall, so named because after the Viking settlers had converted to Christianity they supposedly threw all the icons of their various gods into the falls. Like the Gullfoss near Reykjavik, you can first see the mist, then hear the thundering sound before catching sight of the falls. And also like Gullfoss, the falls are much wider than they are tall. So much water rushing, rushing, rushing.
Then to the geothermal field of Namaskard. First we saw the steam and then we smelled the sulfur. Jane had warned us over and over to stay on the paths (the clay crust can be thin and give way should you take a shortcut dumping you into a caldron of boiling goo. Didn't have to tell me twice!), don't stand directly in the belching steam (it's sulfuric and can etch eyeglasses) and be sure to scuff through the low grass to clean the noxious whatever off the bottom of your shoes. What a place! The sulfur has colored the surface a deep, rich yellow. Nothing grows there. It's a flat area with gasses spewing up here and there, clay bubbling in other spots and is other worldly. I could probably use those two words in every other sentence to describe Iceland. It's as if you're watching the earth form.
And speaking of the earth forming, we also went to the lava labyrinth at Dimmuborgir. I don't know what I expected but this is an area of towering lava peaks, arches and grottos right along the rift between the Eurasian and American tectonic plates. In one spot Jane could stand with one foot in Europe and the other across the rift in America. The rift grows at the rate of 2 centimeters a year, about 3/4 of an inch. We wandered along the various walking paths looking up at the lava towers spotting animals the way you would looking up at clouds. After lunch (soup, fish and boiled potatoes) we walked around and through the Skutustadir Craters, sharing the area with, what else, sheep, and many independent travelers all driving white Toyota RAV4 4s, evidently the rental car of choice in Iceland.
There is a botanical garden in Akureyri containing nearly every native plant and thousands of foreign plants but we didn't get back to town in time to visit it. Next time.
Isafjordur
Surprise! We got to dock rather than anchor. This lovely town actually is the capital of the rugged Westfjord region. We sailed above the Arctic Circle and then back to get here and now have certificates to prove it, thank you, very much. Fishing is the big industry but tourism is growing. And it's still in the 40s and still cloudy and grey. Fish farms are located at the entrances of harbors and fjords--salmon, trout, Arctic char--where the tides keep the water moving.
I'd read about Skrudur, the first Icelandic botanic garden founded in 1909, so we decided to go see it. Our guide was Theresa, a German student pursuing her Masters in marine ecology at the university in Isafjordur. Jim chatted with her a while about how she ended up in Iceland. It was a combination of the program and living away from home that attracted her and now who knows if she'll ever leave. If you're studying fish, like the outdoors and enjoy winter sports, this is the place for you.
We had a wonderful morning, first driving through a long tunnel (6 minutes, 25 seconds) to the garden. It's only twenty meters square, but continues as a testament to the Reverend Gudlaugson, who arrived to be the parish priest and used the garden to teach students about botany and especially the cultivation of trees. Reforestation has been a goal in Iceland for generations, whether in planned tree farms or trees planted in back yards. The garden thrived until the school was closed in 1980. In 1992 a group of volunteers began to renovate and restore the garden. It's now a memorial to itself as well as an example of horticultural potential in such an unforgiving climate. The original trees are still there as well as shoulder high hedges loaded with red currants that line the paths.
Then we headed to Flateyri, a small village that was once the center of shark fishing. We spent some quiet minutes in the small church listening to another student from Isafjordur sing a few Icelandic hymns and folk songs. This church was spared from destruction by an avalanche that swept through the village in the 90s. Slides and avalanches are a constant threat in this area. After that killer slide a massive dirt wall in the shape of a capital A has been constructed on the hillside above the town to divert any future avalanches or slides. We had a delicious coffee and snack break at the cafe in town, disappointed that the quirky century old bookstore was closed. Tiny Isafjordur has been visited by over 100 cruise ships this season and maybe the shop owner just needed a break.
This time we got back to the ship in time to visit the town, specifically the yarn shop! Towns in Iceland are very clean and tidy. There aren't that many cars so you can wander about without worrying about getting flattened as you cross the (narrow) streets. I bought some yarn and a few souvenirs. Shopping in Iceland is easy--100 Krone = $ 1 US so converting prices requires nothing more than moving the decimal point over two places. So much easier than dividing by this or multiplying by that. While the merchant might take Euros or dollars, they much prefer Krone or credit cards. Makes it easier for us, too. We never even got any Krone. Well, Jim did buy some coins at the yarn shop. More golf ball markers.
After sailing out of the fjord we're heading toward Greenland and one more stab at cruising the entire Prince Christian Sund before stopping at one last port there. And maybe we'll see the sun. It's been nothing but grey for days. Grey water. Grey skies. Grey clouds. People are starting to get a bit crabby---massive lack of sunshine vitamin D?
We did spot a few whales spouting as we were leaving one of the fjords and some dolphins escorted us into another but no puffins. They supposedly number in the hundreds of thousands if not millions but they might as well be unicorns with wings and beaks. The closest we came to seeing any were the stuffed puffin toys in the gift shops.
I wouldn't mind returning to Iceland, especially the northwest. It's weird and odd, austere and beautiful and the sheep have the right of way. I'd love to see the Northern Lights, but Theresa said they get lots of snow. The great circle road around the island is passable but the regular flights to and from Reykjavik are often canceled. That trip might stay on the back burner for a while.
Before I forget...a couple we've had dinner with a few times actually went to Costco in Liverpool. They said it looks exactly like every other Costco. And yes, they do sell the hot dog and soda for one pound fifty, a bit less than two bucks.
Saturday, August 26, 2017
Portree, Isle of Skye, Scotland, August 26, 2017
Portree, Isle of Skye, Scotland, August 26, 2017
What a difference a day makes. We glided on glassy seas escorted by porpoises to the anchorage near the picturesque town of Portree arriving around 9:30 or so. Boarding the tenders was an easy operation compared to yesterday.
The population of the island is 12,000 but it was a lovely Saturday in August so I wouldn't be surprised if the visitors outnumbered the residents. We were the only ship in port but the island is reachable by bridge and ferry so is a popular destination. Every hotel and B & B had a "no vacancy" sign posted.
The island is beautiful, a combination of hills and valleys and mountains in the 2,000'+ range. What isn't a rich green is a pinkish purple as the heather is in full bloom. And sheep! When we first arrived I saw little white dots on the hills surrounding the harbor, grabbed the binoculars and confirmed they were indeed sheep. Not great flocks crowded together but spread far apart. It was so quiet that I could hear baaaaa baaaaa coming across the water.
We went on an excursion that took us to the northwest corner of the island and Dunvegan Castle, the home of the Chiefs of the MacLeods for nearly 800 years and still the family home. It looks like a castle should, perched high overlooking the Loch Dunvegan, surrounded by woodlands and gardens. It's yet another case of the Gulf Stream currents keeping the climate quite temperate as evidenced by the fuchias and hydrangeas in full bloom. We walked through a couple of floors of the castle, the walls covered with portraits of the clan Chiefs through the centuries proudly wearing the "loud" MacLeod plaid, the same bright yellow, black and red tartan adopted by our son Jay's alma mater the College of Wooster in Ohio. I told the woman in the gift shop that and she was tickled. Her eyes got very wide and she said, "Really?," and then told me what a delightful people Americans were.
We took the long way back to Portree along the western edge of the island. All the houses seem to be made of stone or cement blocks then coated with white plaster. Most of the houses are spread all over the hills with the occasional cluster in a tiny village. All the roads are two lane with the two traffic lights in Portree. And sheep, sheep, sheep scattered as far as the eye can see. Our guide, Chris, calls them "wooly maggots." He was trained as a biologist and had worked at various times during the 39 years he's lived on the island as a tree farmer. Once again an effort is being made to reforest Skye but it's successful only when the forests are fenced off. The sheep eat anything green.
The terrain is a result of volcanic action followed by glaciers. Despite the sun during our visit they get a lot of mist and rain which keeps it all so green. And the heather! August is the bloom month so the rounded hilltops are covered with purple mounds. There is a lot of fish farming (North Atlantic Salmon), scallop farming and oyster farming in the seas surrounding the island. When we walked through Portree to the pier you could smell fish and chips in the air. By that time we had spent all of our English pounds save a single penny coin so none for us. A HUGE cocoa brown Newfoundland dog seemed to occupy half of the pier. It was obviously his pier so everyone just stepped around him (he was much too big to step over!) to reach the tender back to the ship. Love me some quirky.
And speaking of, Chris told us all about the bridge that was built to connect Skye to the mainland. He grumbled that it was the government's first experiment with private funding of public projects which resulted in a contract guaranteeing the building company both bridge tolls and the elimination of the ferries there. Evidently the toll was the highest in Europe which didn't sit well with the islanders so they would take turns crossing the bridge and then refusing to pay the toll. It wasn't a criminal act so instead of being arrested the police would issue a ticket resulting in a fine which would also go unpaid. Chris said that eventually 80 of them were summoned to a court in Inverness (once again crossing the bridge and refusing to pay the toll) where the magistrate was not at all amused by the rowdy group that sang songs and generally wreaked havoc in his court. Sooooo they all received fines ranging from 200 pounds and up. Fines they ignored of course. Eventually the government capitulated and eliminated both fines and the bridge tolls. Chris said the problem remains that they all now have a criminal record and as such cannot enter the US but "Canada doesn't seem to care and in Australia we're practically royalty."
Jim and I both agreed that we wouldn't mind returning to Skye and staying longer.
What a difference a day makes. We glided on glassy seas escorted by porpoises to the anchorage near the picturesque town of Portree arriving around 9:30 or so. Boarding the tenders was an easy operation compared to yesterday.
The population of the island is 12,000 but it was a lovely Saturday in August so I wouldn't be surprised if the visitors outnumbered the residents. We were the only ship in port but the island is reachable by bridge and ferry so is a popular destination. Every hotel and B & B had a "no vacancy" sign posted.
The island is beautiful, a combination of hills and valleys and mountains in the 2,000'+ range. What isn't a rich green is a pinkish purple as the heather is in full bloom. And sheep! When we first arrived I saw little white dots on the hills surrounding the harbor, grabbed the binoculars and confirmed they were indeed sheep. Not great flocks crowded together but spread far apart. It was so quiet that I could hear baaaaa baaaaa coming across the water.
We went on an excursion that took us to the northwest corner of the island and Dunvegan Castle, the home of the Chiefs of the MacLeods for nearly 800 years and still the family home. It looks like a castle should, perched high overlooking the Loch Dunvegan, surrounded by woodlands and gardens. It's yet another case of the Gulf Stream currents keeping the climate quite temperate as evidenced by the fuchias and hydrangeas in full bloom. We walked through a couple of floors of the castle, the walls covered with portraits of the clan Chiefs through the centuries proudly wearing the "loud" MacLeod plaid, the same bright yellow, black and red tartan adopted by our son Jay's alma mater the College of Wooster in Ohio. I told the woman in the gift shop that and she was tickled. Her eyes got very wide and she said, "Really?," and then told me what a delightful people Americans were.
We took the long way back to Portree along the western edge of the island. All the houses seem to be made of stone or cement blocks then coated with white plaster. Most of the houses are spread all over the hills with the occasional cluster in a tiny village. All the roads are two lane with the two traffic lights in Portree. And sheep, sheep, sheep scattered as far as the eye can see. Our guide, Chris, calls them "wooly maggots." He was trained as a biologist and had worked at various times during the 39 years he's lived on the island as a tree farmer. Once again an effort is being made to reforest Skye but it's successful only when the forests are fenced off. The sheep eat anything green.
The terrain is a result of volcanic action followed by glaciers. Despite the sun during our visit they get a lot of mist and rain which keeps it all so green. And the heather! August is the bloom month so the rounded hilltops are covered with purple mounds. There is a lot of fish farming (North Atlantic Salmon), scallop farming and oyster farming in the seas surrounding the island. When we walked through Portree to the pier you could smell fish and chips in the air. By that time we had spent all of our English pounds save a single penny coin so none for us. A HUGE cocoa brown Newfoundland dog seemed to occupy half of the pier. It was obviously his pier so everyone just stepped around him (he was much too big to step over!) to reach the tender back to the ship. Love me some quirky.
And speaking of, Chris told us all about the bridge that was built to connect Skye to the mainland. He grumbled that it was the government's first experiment with private funding of public projects which resulted in a contract guaranteeing the building company both bridge tolls and the elimination of the ferries there. Evidently the toll was the highest in Europe which didn't sit well with the islanders so they would take turns crossing the bridge and then refusing to pay the toll. It wasn't a criminal act so instead of being arrested the police would issue a ticket resulting in a fine which would also go unpaid. Chris said that eventually 80 of them were summoned to a court in Inverness (once again crossing the bridge and refusing to pay the toll) where the magistrate was not at all amused by the rowdy group that sang songs and generally wreaked havoc in his court. Sooooo they all received fines ranging from 200 pounds and up. Fines they ignored of course. Eventually the government capitulated and eliminated both fines and the bridge tolls. Chris said the problem remains that they all now have a criminal record and as such cannot enter the US but "Canada doesn't seem to care and in Australia we're practically royalty."
Jim and I both agreed that we wouldn't mind returning to Skye and staying longer.
Friday, August 25, 2017
Douglas, Isle of Man, August 25, 2017
Douglas, Isle of Man, August 25, 2017
We left Liverpool last night a bit later than the posted 11 pm. The tides are so extreme and currents so strong that ship movement is dependent on the conditions. The captain told us he'd have to average 20 knots to meet our scheduled 8 am arrival time at the Isle of Man.
The ship arrived as intended but then things got a bit sticky. Douglas is a tender port. It's a big bay but wide open to the sea. The first group of passengers was loaded onto the first tender soon after 8 but as we learned later that night from our dinner companions who were on that first tender, they were bouncing around on that tender as the captain and others were determining if it was safe enough to take them to shore. That tender went but then operations were put on hold while the crew prepared a second tender stairway down to the loading platform on the other side of the ship. Depending on seas and currents we would leave either from the port or starboard side. Now that's something new to me.
The worker bees in the Shore Excursion department are young, efficient and charming so they kept us all informed and amused as we all waited patiently in the big Showroom until the tenders were ready. They took 80 or so at a time from ship to shore. We were supposed to leave at 8:30 but were delayed until about 10. It was a rocking and rolling ride to the pier and then another steep climb up yet another steep ramp (low tide again) where a group of Manx representatives were there to greet us. (Yes, the Isle of Man is home to the Manx cat!) We rode on a shiny new double decker bus along the shoreline promenade (beautiful flowers the whole three miles) to the Manx Electric Train station.
After yesterday's disappointing steam train trip we weren't very optimistic about the electric train but it was great fun. We clambered aboard cars that still depend on the original Victorian and Edwardian technology (124 years old this year) for the thirty minute trip up to the town of Laxey. Then we transferred to the Snaefell Mountain Railway, the only electric mountain railway in the British Isles. It's also well over 100 years old. We climbed up to the 2,036 foot summit of Snaefell, stopping motor vehicle cross traffic along the way. The summit is the highest point on the island and for our visit was swallowed up by low hanging clouds to we didn't get to see the six kingdoms visible from the peak. And then it was back down to the Laxey station and back on our bus for the ride back to town.
Every June a wild and wooly motorcycle race is held on the streets of the Isle of Man. The roads are narrow and curvy and have claimed more than one victim. The Island was full of motorcycles and I mean FULL of motorcycles. Did I hear 20,000? The first day of racing of vintage bikes was to begin the next day. The course was set up with barricades and big bales of hay to cushion the drivers in the inevitable crashes. We even saw a phone booth wrapped in bubble wrap! Everywhere we saw motorcycles parked and at the ready. The course would be opened later that afternoon for practice runs but drivers were already zooming along the roads. And thus the police presence. I can just imagine the noise when all those bikes take off. Poor sheep. They scattered when our little tram car rambled by them in the fields. They're in store for a rough week!
A fun day. The only disappointment was that all the souvenirs were geared to the race participants so no purchases. One more chance tomorrow on the Isle of Sky to unload British pounds before we head back to Iceland. Four port days in a row. We're all ready for a sea day R & R.
Funny British stand up comedian tonight. One couple ambled in maybe 15 minutes into his act and then sat near the stage. Of course he riffed with them at which point they got up, told the guy he was insulting to them and left. People! Do NOT arrive late for a comedian, sit down front and expect him NOT to notice you! The rest of the audience had a great time as did we.
We left Liverpool last night a bit later than the posted 11 pm. The tides are so extreme and currents so strong that ship movement is dependent on the conditions. The captain told us he'd have to average 20 knots to meet our scheduled 8 am arrival time at the Isle of Man.
The ship arrived as intended but then things got a bit sticky. Douglas is a tender port. It's a big bay but wide open to the sea. The first group of passengers was loaded onto the first tender soon after 8 but as we learned later that night from our dinner companions who were on that first tender, they were bouncing around on that tender as the captain and others were determining if it was safe enough to take them to shore. That tender went but then operations were put on hold while the crew prepared a second tender stairway down to the loading platform on the other side of the ship. Depending on seas and currents we would leave either from the port or starboard side. Now that's something new to me.
The worker bees in the Shore Excursion department are young, efficient and charming so they kept us all informed and amused as we all waited patiently in the big Showroom until the tenders were ready. They took 80 or so at a time from ship to shore. We were supposed to leave at 8:30 but were delayed until about 10. It was a rocking and rolling ride to the pier and then another steep climb up yet another steep ramp (low tide again) where a group of Manx representatives were there to greet us. (Yes, the Isle of Man is home to the Manx cat!) We rode on a shiny new double decker bus along the shoreline promenade (beautiful flowers the whole three miles) to the Manx Electric Train station.
After yesterday's disappointing steam train trip we weren't very optimistic about the electric train but it was great fun. We clambered aboard cars that still depend on the original Victorian and Edwardian technology (124 years old this year) for the thirty minute trip up to the town of Laxey. Then we transferred to the Snaefell Mountain Railway, the only electric mountain railway in the British Isles. It's also well over 100 years old. We climbed up to the 2,036 foot summit of Snaefell, stopping motor vehicle cross traffic along the way. The summit is the highest point on the island and for our visit was swallowed up by low hanging clouds to we didn't get to see the six kingdoms visible from the peak. And then it was back down to the Laxey station and back on our bus for the ride back to town.
Every June a wild and wooly motorcycle race is held on the streets of the Isle of Man. The roads are narrow and curvy and have claimed more than one victim. The Island was full of motorcycles and I mean FULL of motorcycles. Did I hear 20,000? The first day of racing of vintage bikes was to begin the next day. The course was set up with barricades and big bales of hay to cushion the drivers in the inevitable crashes. We even saw a phone booth wrapped in bubble wrap! Everywhere we saw motorcycles parked and at the ready. The course would be opened later that afternoon for practice runs but drivers were already zooming along the roads. And thus the police presence. I can just imagine the noise when all those bikes take off. Poor sheep. They scattered when our little tram car rambled by them in the fields. They're in store for a rough week!
A fun day. The only disappointment was that all the souvenirs were geared to the race participants so no purchases. One more chance tomorrow on the Isle of Sky to unload British pounds before we head back to Iceland. Four port days in a row. We're all ready for a sea day R & R.
Funny British stand up comedian tonight. One couple ambled in maybe 15 minutes into his act and then sat near the stage. Of course he riffed with them at which point they got up, told the guy he was insulting to them and left. People! Do NOT arrive late for a comedian, sit down front and expect him NOT to notice you! The rest of the audience had a great time as did we.
Liverpool, August 24, 2017
Liverpool, August 24, 2017
While I slept the sleep of the near dead, the ship was averaging 20+ knots to reach Liverpool by dawn's early light. We were set to leave the ship by 8 am, so when I threw open the curtains a bit before 7 there was Liverpool! We were tied to a floating dock(the tide fall is extreme, up to 30 feet, so the dock bobs up and down) with the city right in front of us and, to no one's surprise, music by the Fab Four drifting down from the cruise terminal.
This floating dock means that the angle of the gangway between ship and pier and between pier and land goes from flat at high tide to damned steep at low. We disembarked at low. The ship's gangway was manageable (they moved it from deck to deck to keep it as flat as possible) but the long, covered one from pier to land looked like a steep, uphill climb. The trick was to get momentum going and then pull yourself along by grabbing the (very substantial) bar on the side wall. My Apple Health app gave us credit for three flights of steps!
While others traced the steps of the Beatles Jim and I went to Wales!!! We were delayed leaving (waiting for the late ones per usual) and then drove two hours from the city and then across the border which, depending on who you ask, is either a sign on the highway or the river a bit farther along into Wales. It's just gorgeous; all rolling hills of the greenest grass divided by hedges into pastures of either cows or sheep. A whole lot of sheep in Wales! We powered through valleys and over hills to reach Llangollen (Add Welsh to Gaelic and Icelandic as languages impossible to learn or pronounce) and a steam locomotive that powers a little train on tracks laid in 1861 along the banks of the River Dee. Because of our late departure we were hustled from bus to train and then off we went on a pretty short ride and then off we got and back into the bus. We never did see the steam locomotive pulling the cars. The bus took us a short drive to a bustling little town jam packed with tourists. I finally asked somebody why all the people were in this particular little spot and he looked at me like I was nuts. Evidently the town was Llangollen just across the River Dee from the railroad which is quite the tourist magnet. You needed 20p to use the toilets and the keeper of the johns would accept nothing BUT 20 p. I found a Barclay's Bank (closed. Only open 2-1/2 days a week) with an ATM which gave me paper money. Then in and out of the little shops until I bought a pattern for a needlepoint Welsh dragon and got coins in change. When I dropped a couple of coins on the floor the shop owner winked at me and said, "Better grab those coins. That's three trips to the toilet right there." By then it was time to get on the bus and go to lunch. Fortunately our lunch place was just five minutes up the road and even more fortunately we were the first to arrive and thus the first to hit the bathrooms a mere five hours after we'd left the ship. I swear my molars were floating!
After lunch we went to Chirk Castle. Way back when, Edward I of England built a series of castles in Wales. Chirk was built in 1310 as a border fortress. In 1595 Thomas Myddleton bought it to create a family home. It's quite the place. On top of a hill, built around a large central courtyard with acres of gardens surrounding it. I was surprised that the castle was furnished. It was continuously occupied for 700 years (no fewer than five of the owners lost their heads for treason) and so the interiors are decorated with paintings, decorative arts and furniture spanning those centuries. It's all rather lavish and very eclectic. It also has a dungeon! And a Tower! And battlements all around the top. A man dressed as a medieval knight gathered up all the little kids and drafted them into his army complete with drum pounding, screaming contests and marching around the courtyard. The little lords and ladies were having a ball while all the adults looked on rather wishing they could join in. The army was finally dismissed and headed to the ice cream shop on the ground floor.
We wandered through the gardens separated by immense topiaries of yews. Huge swathes of lawns bordered by perennials in full bloom and roses and specimen trees. The vines climbing up the stone walls of the castle were beginning to go crimson. Outside of the castle a John Deere was cutting hay to put up for the winter. Lots of sheep to feed.
Usually when we return to the ship our card is scanned to record our arrival then our stuff goes through a machine and we walk through a metal detector. Sometimes you have to show your cruise card and a "government issued ID" (driver's license or passport) to a local authority on the pier but in Amsterdam they had full-on, battle-dressed officers to check IDs, plus X-ray for stuff and metal detectors for us. In Dublin and Liverpool? Nothing special and no real police presence in the cities. Lots of police on the Isle of Man but that was for something else.
Dublin, Ireland, August 23, 2017
Dublin, Ireland, August 23, 2017
We ran into some bumpy seas between Rotterdam and Dublin. Once again the show featuring the singers and dancers had to be cancelled.
We arrived early, early the next morning at the dock in Dublin. It's another big, big commercial port. There were four cruise ships there tucked in amongst the freighters being loaded and unloaded. Nothing entertains a shipload of old patoots more than watching the big giant cranes grab ahold of a container on a freighter and then swing it around and deposit it onto the trailer of a waiting truck. Every time, "That's just amazing. How does that guy get that container on that truck?"
We had the morning free so we joined a three hour drive around Dublin. Jim had been here 35 years ago and me closer to 45 and the only thing either one of us remembered was the entrance to Trinity College and the repository of the Book of Kells. Like every major European city we've visited lately (Ireland remains part of the EU and thus uses Euros) Dublin was jammed with people, residents and visitors. School was just starting up again so add to that mix pre-teens in school uniforms (our guide, a mature woman, pointed out the girls in the mid-calf length skirts and matching burgundy sweaters as students at a Catholic girls school, the same one she'd attended a long while back in the SAME uniforms. No wonder the kidlets dye their hair green and get tattoos when they're out of there! Ugly, ugly uniforms. With white knee high socks and black lace up shoes.) and 18,000 students at Trinity.
We rambled around town enjoying the Georgian and medieval neighborhoods and the front doors. So many of the buildings have the same appearance that the doors are the only feature to set them apart. Every door has a different surround, a different fan window over it and a different shiny brass door knocker (We passed a shop called Knobs and Knockers selling just that!) AND is a different color. And I'm not talking just the expected green, red and blue but also bright yellow, Caribbean teal and Barbi pink! And fabulous window boxes filled with bright flowers spilling over the edges. Once again, you live in a northern spot, you take advantage of the summer sun.
That afternoon we went to the Guiness Brewery. Interestingly enough, of the numerous ship's excursions we've been on since leaving Boston we've had just one member of the crew join us on one tour. But to Guiness? Five of them! And our guide was a Trinity educated, stand up comedian wanna be. The whole trip was a hoot and a half!
The Guiness brewery in Dublin is massive--60 acres in the middle of the city! Evidently when the original Lord Somebody Guiness started it up 250 years ago he signed a 9,000 (yes, Nine Thousand) year lease for that property at 45 pounds per year. The price remains the same. He also secured water rights from a pure river (not the Liffey which runs through Dublin and does not look the slightest bit pure) for the same number of years for even less. They produce millions of pints a day at this Saint James facility AND they've converted one of the original breweries into the Guiness Storehouse, nine floors of exhibitions of how they make the stuff, plus a Guiness Academy to teach the proper way to pour a Guiness, plus a restaurant featuring food that goes well with Guiness AND at the top of the nine story building a circular glass bar, the Gravity Bar where you get your pint and then wander about enjoying the 360 degree view of Dublin. Now THAT was a lively spot. A big circular bar in the middle manned with multiple bartenders drawing endless pints of regular Guiness and the other beers they make. The line is that a Guiness drawn there tastes so much better than one you can get anywhere else. I don't like beer but my inhouse expert, James B. Fisher, was willing to take the test. And his judgement? It's true! The Guiness was fabulous! I also polled several of the hundreds milling around and got the same answer. Oh, did I mention that on the first floor is a massive store featuring anything and everything that is either made from Guiness or can bear the name Guiness. This was our last Euro stop so we kept adding merch to our pile until the adorable clerk said we'd spent it all. At one point I said, You betcha, which just tickled him to know end. He said he just loved American slang. I taught him a couple more that wouldn't cause his grandmother to blush.
The ship wasn't due to leave until 11 but I was a whipped puppy. No shower and change and dining room for me just a quick bite at the Lido and then I was in bed asleep by 7:30. Jim said he checked several times to make sure I wasn't toes up.
We ran into some bumpy seas between Rotterdam and Dublin. Once again the show featuring the singers and dancers had to be cancelled.
We arrived early, early the next morning at the dock in Dublin. It's another big, big commercial port. There were four cruise ships there tucked in amongst the freighters being loaded and unloaded. Nothing entertains a shipload of old patoots more than watching the big giant cranes grab ahold of a container on a freighter and then swing it around and deposit it onto the trailer of a waiting truck. Every time, "That's just amazing. How does that guy get that container on that truck?"
We had the morning free so we joined a three hour drive around Dublin. Jim had been here 35 years ago and me closer to 45 and the only thing either one of us remembered was the entrance to Trinity College and the repository of the Book of Kells. Like every major European city we've visited lately (Ireland remains part of the EU and thus uses Euros) Dublin was jammed with people, residents and visitors. School was just starting up again so add to that mix pre-teens in school uniforms (our guide, a mature woman, pointed out the girls in the mid-calf length skirts and matching burgundy sweaters as students at a Catholic girls school, the same one she'd attended a long while back in the SAME uniforms. No wonder the kidlets dye their hair green and get tattoos when they're out of there! Ugly, ugly uniforms. With white knee high socks and black lace up shoes.) and 18,000 students at Trinity.
We rambled around town enjoying the Georgian and medieval neighborhoods and the front doors. So many of the buildings have the same appearance that the doors are the only feature to set them apart. Every door has a different surround, a different fan window over it and a different shiny brass door knocker (We passed a shop called Knobs and Knockers selling just that!) AND is a different color. And I'm not talking just the expected green, red and blue but also bright yellow, Caribbean teal and Barbi pink! And fabulous window boxes filled with bright flowers spilling over the edges. Once again, you live in a northern spot, you take advantage of the summer sun.
That afternoon we went to the Guiness Brewery. Interestingly enough, of the numerous ship's excursions we've been on since leaving Boston we've had just one member of the crew join us on one tour. But to Guiness? Five of them! And our guide was a Trinity educated, stand up comedian wanna be. The whole trip was a hoot and a half!
The Guiness brewery in Dublin is massive--60 acres in the middle of the city! Evidently when the original Lord Somebody Guiness started it up 250 years ago he signed a 9,000 (yes, Nine Thousand) year lease for that property at 45 pounds per year. The price remains the same. He also secured water rights from a pure river (not the Liffey which runs through Dublin and does not look the slightest bit pure) for the same number of years for even less. They produce millions of pints a day at this Saint James facility AND they've converted one of the original breweries into the Guiness Storehouse, nine floors of exhibitions of how they make the stuff, plus a Guiness Academy to teach the proper way to pour a Guiness, plus a restaurant featuring food that goes well with Guiness AND at the top of the nine story building a circular glass bar, the Gravity Bar where you get your pint and then wander about enjoying the 360 degree view of Dublin. Now THAT was a lively spot. A big circular bar in the middle manned with multiple bartenders drawing endless pints of regular Guiness and the other beers they make. The line is that a Guiness drawn there tastes so much better than one you can get anywhere else. I don't like beer but my inhouse expert, James B. Fisher, was willing to take the test. And his judgement? It's true! The Guiness was fabulous! I also polled several of the hundreds milling around and got the same answer. Oh, did I mention that on the first floor is a massive store featuring anything and everything that is either made from Guiness or can bear the name Guiness. This was our last Euro stop so we kept adding merch to our pile until the adorable clerk said we'd spent it all. At one point I said, You betcha, which just tickled him to know end. He said he just loved American slang. I taught him a couple more that wouldn't cause his grandmother to blush.
The ship wasn't due to leave until 11 but I was a whipped puppy. No shower and change and dining room for me just a quick bite at the Lido and then I was in bed asleep by 7:30. Jim said he checked several times to make sure I wasn't toes up.
Rotterdam, The Netherlands, August 20-21, 2017
Rotterdam, The Netherlands, August 20-21, 2017
We arrived in Rotterdam at day break. Once again I missed the two hour trip up the channel to our pier. And once again, it's one way in, same way out so I would see it when we left the next afternoon.
Rotterdam was completely destroyed during WWII so it's relatively new re-built. It was the busiest port in the world but now is number three after Shanghai and Singapore. It is HUGE! We're docked next to the Erasmus Bridge (aka the Swan Bridge) right in front of a modern cruise terminal and the more vintage former headquarters of Holland America. There is a non-stop parade of vessels going to and fro---water taxis and buses, tour boats, the distinctive low profile (have to fit under the low bridges) canal freighters and barges being pushed along by tugs.
A few years ago we took a Baltic Cruise that ended in Amsterdam, an Amsterdam that was in the midst of a heat wave and football fever. The Dutch soccer team was playing in the World Cup championship game while we were in town along with tens of thousands of beer-soaked football fans. We managed to do a lot of sightseeing but were disappointed that we did not see windmills or the Rijks Museum, closed for a multi-year renovation
This time we were determined to visit a working windmill and the Rijks.
Kinderdiik
An hour or so from Rotterdam is Kinderdiik, the site of 19 windmills built in the 1700s. One of the windmills is both functioning and serves as a museum (the miller and his family lived on the first two floors of the mill). Rather than grinding grain, nuts or chocolate, these windmills ran water pumps that moved the water through canals to the river and kept the village and fields dry. They were first replaced by steam pumps and then electric, still working to keep the water out.
What a beautiful site. The windmills are along both sides of the canal that's lined with reeds and water lilies. The reeds are cut, dried and then used to thatch the roofs of the windmills. A two lane "highway" runs along the top of the dike--one for walkers the other for cyclists. It's very still and quiet, other than the babbling of the multitude of visitors. Nowadays the "miller" is a volunteer who demonstrates how the vanes are moved to catch the wind. Our miller was in Carhartts and wooden shoes and performed his duty wordlessly. He turned this massive wheel to move the vanes then held them in place with chains looped around cleats set in the ground around the mill. We saw a movie explaining how the windmills worked way back when. The millers used the position of the vanes to communicate with each other.18th century Instagram.
We took a bus to Kinderdiik but a couple of days later learned that we could've gone by the waterbus that landed just across the channel from our ship. Next time...
Amsterdam
One could take the train from Rotterdam to Amsterdam but then one would have to get oneself from ship to train station and reverse so these ones opted to take the bus. It was more expensive but the bus picked us up at the ship and dropped us off at Museum Square, exactly where we wanted to be. Five hours later it picked us up and took us back to the Rotterdam in Rotterdam.
One of my few plan aheads was to buy tickets online for the Rijks. We hit the door just as it opened at 9 am. Gorgeous! The renovation seamlessly meshed the old with the new. The building itself is so striking. The facade looks like the Smithsonian in DC, all red brick and towers. Interestingly enough, a bicycle road runs right through the middle of the street level.
Side note here for bicycles in Amsterdam. Holy Moley. I remember from our first visit that it was expensive to learn how to drive, buy a car, insure a car and park a car so by far the preferred method of transportation is the bicycle. Bicycles for one, or two or kid in front, kid in back, you name it. And they whip through the streets in special lanes. The street layout going across is this: pedestrian sidewalk, bike lane, car lane, bike lane, pedestrian sidewalk. The bicyclists do not stop except for red lights so as a pedestrian you must, must, must look both ways before you step into that bike lane to get to the other side of the road. And these are rather narrow city streets. The first time we crossed the road we got right behind a man pushing a baby stroller figuring he must know what he was doing. Success! Oh, and no bike helmets.
Back to the Rijks. Its most famous painting is Rembrandt's immense Night Watch, which occupies an entire wall at the end of the Gallery of Honor on the second floor. At 9 am the museum was almost empty so Jim and I raced (well, hobbled) up the never ending stairs to the Great Hall and then into the GoH. It's a long, long gallery leading to the Night Watch. Walking through that gallery is like walking through the pages of an art history textbook. Vermeer, Hals, Steen and on and on. And why is it that so often a painting you've seen a thousand times in books is either much bigger or much smaller in reality. Vermeer's Milk Maid is actually a very small painting while that Night Watch. Lordy, Lordy, it is just huge. And at one time long ago a meter or so was lopped off both sides to make it fit between two doors! It is guarded with a capital G. Throughout the museum a low rope, maybe a foot or so off the ground, keeps you close enough to really look at the works close up but far enough away to keep wandering hands off the goods. The guards throughout are young, dressed in dark grey suits, and tall. They grow 'em tall in The Netherlands! All the female guards were in the six foot tall range, blonde and very fit. I'm pretty sure they could snap you like a twig. Two of them are inside the rope on either side of the Night Watch. And just outside the rope? A large fire extinguisher with a very long wand. Backpacks, large bags aren't allowed in the museum, same for those awful selfie sticks, which I'm sure cuts down the possibility of some nut job going after the artwork.
We spent a solid three hours enjoying the 17th and 18th century paintings, sculpture and treasures but by then the place was absolutely packed with individuals and tour groups following their guides so we took refuge in the cafe. You could hear a dozen different languages being spoken in the crowds yet the signage and menus are in Dutch and English. Tables in European cafes are just inches apart so we struck up a conversation with a couple of lovely ladies who had just finished a river cruise from Budapest. We told them we had seen a Viking river boat in Kinderdiik the day before and they said, "That was us!"
Back to the ship in the afternoon, arriving exactly at the 3:30 all aboard which meant no hanging about the terminal using the wifi. It's a solid two hours to move from the pier to the harbor entrance. Our departure was timed to slip through the constant traffic. Lots of horn tooting by us, the water taxis, barges and anything else floating in the vicinity. And then we passed the SS Rotterdam, now permanently berthed in Rotterdam and transformed into a hotel. Much tooting and waving from one Rotterdam to another. By the time we'd reached the open sea Jim and I were up on nine watching from the Crow's Nest. There were dozens of freighters of all sizes waiting there to enter the harbor.
One sea day and then Dublin.
We arrived in Rotterdam at day break. Once again I missed the two hour trip up the channel to our pier. And once again, it's one way in, same way out so I would see it when we left the next afternoon.
Rotterdam was completely destroyed during WWII so it's relatively new re-built. It was the busiest port in the world but now is number three after Shanghai and Singapore. It is HUGE! We're docked next to the Erasmus Bridge (aka the Swan Bridge) right in front of a modern cruise terminal and the more vintage former headquarters of Holland America. There is a non-stop parade of vessels going to and fro---water taxis and buses, tour boats, the distinctive low profile (have to fit under the low bridges) canal freighters and barges being pushed along by tugs.
A few years ago we took a Baltic Cruise that ended in Amsterdam, an Amsterdam that was in the midst of a heat wave and football fever. The Dutch soccer team was playing in the World Cup championship game while we were in town along with tens of thousands of beer-soaked football fans. We managed to do a lot of sightseeing but were disappointed that we did not see windmills or the Rijks Museum, closed for a multi-year renovation
This time we were determined to visit a working windmill and the Rijks.
Kinderdiik
An hour or so from Rotterdam is Kinderdiik, the site of 19 windmills built in the 1700s. One of the windmills is both functioning and serves as a museum (the miller and his family lived on the first two floors of the mill). Rather than grinding grain, nuts or chocolate, these windmills ran water pumps that moved the water through canals to the river and kept the village and fields dry. They were first replaced by steam pumps and then electric, still working to keep the water out.
What a beautiful site. The windmills are along both sides of the canal that's lined with reeds and water lilies. The reeds are cut, dried and then used to thatch the roofs of the windmills. A two lane "highway" runs along the top of the dike--one for walkers the other for cyclists. It's very still and quiet, other than the babbling of the multitude of visitors. Nowadays the "miller" is a volunteer who demonstrates how the vanes are moved to catch the wind. Our miller was in Carhartts and wooden shoes and performed his duty wordlessly. He turned this massive wheel to move the vanes then held them in place with chains looped around cleats set in the ground around the mill. We saw a movie explaining how the windmills worked way back when. The millers used the position of the vanes to communicate with each other.18th century Instagram.
We took a bus to Kinderdiik but a couple of days later learned that we could've gone by the waterbus that landed just across the channel from our ship. Next time...
Amsterdam
One could take the train from Rotterdam to Amsterdam but then one would have to get oneself from ship to train station and reverse so these ones opted to take the bus. It was more expensive but the bus picked us up at the ship and dropped us off at Museum Square, exactly where we wanted to be. Five hours later it picked us up and took us back to the Rotterdam in Rotterdam.
One of my few plan aheads was to buy tickets online for the Rijks. We hit the door just as it opened at 9 am. Gorgeous! The renovation seamlessly meshed the old with the new. The building itself is so striking. The facade looks like the Smithsonian in DC, all red brick and towers. Interestingly enough, a bicycle road runs right through the middle of the street level.
Side note here for bicycles in Amsterdam. Holy Moley. I remember from our first visit that it was expensive to learn how to drive, buy a car, insure a car and park a car so by far the preferred method of transportation is the bicycle. Bicycles for one, or two or kid in front, kid in back, you name it. And they whip through the streets in special lanes. The street layout going across is this: pedestrian sidewalk, bike lane, car lane, bike lane, pedestrian sidewalk. The bicyclists do not stop except for red lights so as a pedestrian you must, must, must look both ways before you step into that bike lane to get to the other side of the road. And these are rather narrow city streets. The first time we crossed the road we got right behind a man pushing a baby stroller figuring he must know what he was doing. Success! Oh, and no bike helmets.
Back to the Rijks. Its most famous painting is Rembrandt's immense Night Watch, which occupies an entire wall at the end of the Gallery of Honor on the second floor. At 9 am the museum was almost empty so Jim and I raced (well, hobbled) up the never ending stairs to the Great Hall and then into the GoH. It's a long, long gallery leading to the Night Watch. Walking through that gallery is like walking through the pages of an art history textbook. Vermeer, Hals, Steen and on and on. And why is it that so often a painting you've seen a thousand times in books is either much bigger or much smaller in reality. Vermeer's Milk Maid is actually a very small painting while that Night Watch. Lordy, Lordy, it is just huge. And at one time long ago a meter or so was lopped off both sides to make it fit between two doors! It is guarded with a capital G. Throughout the museum a low rope, maybe a foot or so off the ground, keeps you close enough to really look at the works close up but far enough away to keep wandering hands off the goods. The guards throughout are young, dressed in dark grey suits, and tall. They grow 'em tall in The Netherlands! All the female guards were in the six foot tall range, blonde and very fit. I'm pretty sure they could snap you like a twig. Two of them are inside the rope on either side of the Night Watch. And just outside the rope? A large fire extinguisher with a very long wand. Backpacks, large bags aren't allowed in the museum, same for those awful selfie sticks, which I'm sure cuts down the possibility of some nut job going after the artwork.
We spent a solid three hours enjoying the 17th and 18th century paintings, sculpture and treasures but by then the place was absolutely packed with individuals and tour groups following their guides so we took refuge in the cafe. You could hear a dozen different languages being spoken in the crowds yet the signage and menus are in Dutch and English. Tables in European cafes are just inches apart so we struck up a conversation with a couple of lovely ladies who had just finished a river cruise from Budapest. We told them we had seen a Viking river boat in Kinderdiik the day before and they said, "That was us!"
Back to the ship in the afternoon, arriving exactly at the 3:30 all aboard which meant no hanging about the terminal using the wifi. It's a solid two hours to move from the pier to the harbor entrance. Our departure was timed to slip through the constant traffic. Lots of horn tooting by us, the water taxis, barges and anything else floating in the vicinity. And then we passed the SS Rotterdam, now permanently berthed in Rotterdam and transformed into a hotel. Much tooting and waving from one Rotterdam to another. By the time we'd reached the open sea Jim and I were up on nine watching from the Crow's Nest. There were dozens of freighters of all sizes waiting there to enter the harbor.
One sea day and then Dublin.
At Sea and Norway, August 14-18, 2017
At Sea and Norway, August 14-18, 2017
"We left 5:30ish for Norway, two sea days east. The seas have been so calm so far. Is that tempting fate to write that?"
That was my last sentence as we left Iceland and as it turned out it WAS tempting fate. We ran into our first rough water of the entire trip. Suddenly bowls of green apples and soda crackers are at the front desk, the after dinner mint guy is doling out little bites of candied ginger instead, lots of "Do Not Disturb" signs on cabin doors at dinner time and racks of little white barf bags outside of the elevators on every floor. It wasn't a full-on batten down the hatches drill, but walking in a straight line was a challenge. Not many people in the Crow's Nest for cocktails (every so often the ship would climb up a big swell and then bang down, rattling every bottle in the bar) or in the dining room for dinner. The show featuring the in house singers and dancers was canceled; it was just too rocky for them to be safe.
Gradually the seas settled a bit but the weather was just crummy alternating between grey and rainy or grey and foggy. Every one was pretty sanguine about it. The mantra continues to be better to have crummy sea days and sunny port days than the opposite.
Alesund
Our first port in Norway was the picturesque Alesund between Trondheim and Bergen. Most of the town burned to the ground in 1904 so it was rebuilt in Art Nouveau style although it looked closer to a Hanseatic Art Nouveau to me. The tops of many of the buildings had that distinctive stepped up facade seen along the canals in Amsterdam. On last season's Amazing Race TV show the contestants raced through Alesund to the island of Giske and then to the lighthouse on the island of Godoy. We went on HAL's version--a leisurely drive through the underwater tunnels that link the various islands that dot the harbor.
The submarine tunnel system is very impressive. The bus is zipping along and suddenly into a tunnel and down under the sea. I think the longest one we went through was 5 km or so and I'm guessing replaced a ferry. The islands are made of low mountains, dotted with farms and homes. Those who don't farm, fish. It's all green with lovely flowers in the gardens. Maybe 200 residents on each island. Along the shore are boat houses built with shared walls and peaked roofs. Each has an apartment above the boat house. Tiny house living right on the water. Giske island was the birthplace of the Viking Rollo who conquered Normany in 911and was the antecedent of William the Conqueror.
The famous lighthouse (it appears that ALL lighthouses on the Atlantic are famous) is another tunnel ride to the island of Godoy. The topography is like all the other islands, with a small fishing village, more small farms, pretty gardens and a very picturesque lighthouse on a windswept point.
On our way back to the ship we drove up to the top of Mount Aksla for a commanding view of the harbor and surrounding islands. It was still sunny but very crowded. We weren't the only ship docked that day and Mount Aksla seemed to be on everyone's itinerary. Like many cities on the seacoast, Alesund has tens of thousands of cruise ship passengers visit every summer. Our guide told us that because of the sea currents they didn't have snow during the winter. Hmmmm. Then why was every building topped by a tall, peaked roof with a row of metal loops along the edge to keep the snow from falling off and hitting someone below?
We'd thought about getting off in the town center to wander about and then ramble back to the ship but then the rains came discouraging wandering and rambling.
Bergen
Next port was Bergen. I remember visiting there 40+ years ago, especially the big seafood market on the harbor. Now it is still very pretty with houses climbing up the hills that surround the harbor and endless shops catering to tourists. It's a fairly easy walk to town, a packed town as a big P&O ship was also docked. We'd decided just to wander and amble (the weather was cooperating this time) rather than drive around the fjord to see yet another waterfall. Bergen is the largest port and the second largest city in Norway. I remember Norway being very expensive 40+ years ago and that certainly hasn't changed. Later people were exchanging "guess what I paid for lunch" stories. Probably a combination of where it is plus the captive audience.
Eidfjord
This little village (population 900) is at the end of a fjord. We cruised up the fjord a couple of hours ahead of schedule, arriving at 8 am instead of 10. Surprise, surprise! I wasn't awake to see it. But once again, we've gotta go back the way we came in and at a much more sensible hour (6 pm) so I'll catch the views on the flip flop.
The HUGE Viking Seas beat us in and so got the dock leaving us to hover off shore and a short tender ride to the pier. Being up at the end of the fjord, the water was absolutely flat so the tender trip was a breeze. Even the wheelchair bound could make it, helped by several stewards to carry the chair to the tender and then help the person down the 13 steps to the tender platform. Everyone knows the drill, murmurs "There but for the grace of God" and waits for the successful transfer.
Eidfjord is a tiny little place with several hotels and restaurants, a nice art gallery, a couple of grocery stores (so much fun to check out the prices--bananas approximately $1.50/lb) and shops. One had the usual touristy souvenirs but the other had only "made in Norway" merchandise, some of it handcrafted AND a yarn store in back! Jim assumed the position, standing out on the sidewalk in the sunshine with a bunch of other husbands smart enough NOT to go inside and just get in the way. The shop had the most adorable knitwear for toddlers and children but said toddlers and children would have to live near the Arctic Circle to ever wear it. It seemed to us that Eidfjord must also be a vacation destination for Norwegians. Such a lovely spot with fishing, sea kayaking and canoeing and glacier hiking just on the other side of the mountains.
Cruising out of the fjord was a treat, despite the rain which started just at the end of our stop in Eidfjord. We spotted single houses as well as small groups of buildings here and there along the shores. Some appeared to be accessible by road but others had small docks out front and probably got to and from by boat. It would be great fun in the summer. Not so much in the winter.
Sea Day on the 19th and then an early arrival in Rotterdam on the 20th. Some passengers are getting off there as well as the Captain. New people will board along with the new Captain and, let's hope, supplies! Our favorite waiter in the Crow's Nest said they ran out of peanuts a few days ago and were down to the last can of mixed nuts to ration out to the cocktail crowd. Can hard tack be far behind?
"We left 5:30ish for Norway, two sea days east. The seas have been so calm so far. Is that tempting fate to write that?"
That was my last sentence as we left Iceland and as it turned out it WAS tempting fate. We ran into our first rough water of the entire trip. Suddenly bowls of green apples and soda crackers are at the front desk, the after dinner mint guy is doling out little bites of candied ginger instead, lots of "Do Not Disturb" signs on cabin doors at dinner time and racks of little white barf bags outside of the elevators on every floor. It wasn't a full-on batten down the hatches drill, but walking in a straight line was a challenge. Not many people in the Crow's Nest for cocktails (every so often the ship would climb up a big swell and then bang down, rattling every bottle in the bar) or in the dining room for dinner. The show featuring the in house singers and dancers was canceled; it was just too rocky for them to be safe.
Gradually the seas settled a bit but the weather was just crummy alternating between grey and rainy or grey and foggy. Every one was pretty sanguine about it. The mantra continues to be better to have crummy sea days and sunny port days than the opposite.
Alesund
Our first port in Norway was the picturesque Alesund between Trondheim and Bergen. Most of the town burned to the ground in 1904 so it was rebuilt in Art Nouveau style although it looked closer to a Hanseatic Art Nouveau to me. The tops of many of the buildings had that distinctive stepped up facade seen along the canals in Amsterdam. On last season's Amazing Race TV show the contestants raced through Alesund to the island of Giske and then to the lighthouse on the island of Godoy. We went on HAL's version--a leisurely drive through the underwater tunnels that link the various islands that dot the harbor.
The submarine tunnel system is very impressive. The bus is zipping along and suddenly into a tunnel and down under the sea. I think the longest one we went through was 5 km or so and I'm guessing replaced a ferry. The islands are made of low mountains, dotted with farms and homes. Those who don't farm, fish. It's all green with lovely flowers in the gardens. Maybe 200 residents on each island. Along the shore are boat houses built with shared walls and peaked roofs. Each has an apartment above the boat house. Tiny house living right on the water. Giske island was the birthplace of the Viking Rollo who conquered Normany in 911and was the antecedent of William the Conqueror.
The famous lighthouse (it appears that ALL lighthouses on the Atlantic are famous) is another tunnel ride to the island of Godoy. The topography is like all the other islands, with a small fishing village, more small farms, pretty gardens and a very picturesque lighthouse on a windswept point.
On our way back to the ship we drove up to the top of Mount Aksla for a commanding view of the harbor and surrounding islands. It was still sunny but very crowded. We weren't the only ship docked that day and Mount Aksla seemed to be on everyone's itinerary. Like many cities on the seacoast, Alesund has tens of thousands of cruise ship passengers visit every summer. Our guide told us that because of the sea currents they didn't have snow during the winter. Hmmmm. Then why was every building topped by a tall, peaked roof with a row of metal loops along the edge to keep the snow from falling off and hitting someone below?
We'd thought about getting off in the town center to wander about and then ramble back to the ship but then the rains came discouraging wandering and rambling.
Bergen
Next port was Bergen. I remember visiting there 40+ years ago, especially the big seafood market on the harbor. Now it is still very pretty with houses climbing up the hills that surround the harbor and endless shops catering to tourists. It's a fairly easy walk to town, a packed town as a big P&O ship was also docked. We'd decided just to wander and amble (the weather was cooperating this time) rather than drive around the fjord to see yet another waterfall. Bergen is the largest port and the second largest city in Norway. I remember Norway being very expensive 40+ years ago and that certainly hasn't changed. Later people were exchanging "guess what I paid for lunch" stories. Probably a combination of where it is plus the captive audience.
Eidfjord
This little village (population 900) is at the end of a fjord. We cruised up the fjord a couple of hours ahead of schedule, arriving at 8 am instead of 10. Surprise, surprise! I wasn't awake to see it. But once again, we've gotta go back the way we came in and at a much more sensible hour (6 pm) so I'll catch the views on the flip flop.
The HUGE Viking Seas beat us in and so got the dock leaving us to hover off shore and a short tender ride to the pier. Being up at the end of the fjord, the water was absolutely flat so the tender trip was a breeze. Even the wheelchair bound could make it, helped by several stewards to carry the chair to the tender and then help the person down the 13 steps to the tender platform. Everyone knows the drill, murmurs "There but for the grace of God" and waits for the successful transfer.
Eidfjord is a tiny little place with several hotels and restaurants, a nice art gallery, a couple of grocery stores (so much fun to check out the prices--bananas approximately $1.50/lb) and shops. One had the usual touristy souvenirs but the other had only "made in Norway" merchandise, some of it handcrafted AND a yarn store in back! Jim assumed the position, standing out on the sidewalk in the sunshine with a bunch of other husbands smart enough NOT to go inside and just get in the way. The shop had the most adorable knitwear for toddlers and children but said toddlers and children would have to live near the Arctic Circle to ever wear it. It seemed to us that Eidfjord must also be a vacation destination for Norwegians. Such a lovely spot with fishing, sea kayaking and canoeing and glacier hiking just on the other side of the mountains.
Cruising out of the fjord was a treat, despite the rain which started just at the end of our stop in Eidfjord. We spotted single houses as well as small groups of buildings here and there along the shores. Some appeared to be accessible by road but others had small docks out front and probably got to and from by boat. It would be great fun in the summer. Not so much in the winter.
Sea Day on the 19th and then an early arrival in Rotterdam on the 20th. Some passengers are getting off there as well as the Captain. New people will board along with the new Captain and, let's hope, supplies! Our favorite waiter in the Crow's Nest said they ran out of peanuts a few days ago and were down to the last can of mixed nuts to ration out to the cocktail crowd. Can hard tack be far behind?
Wednesday, August 16, 2017
Reykjavik, Iceland, August 13, 2017
Reykjavik, Iceland, August 13, 2017
Day Two
The Icelandic alphabet has 38 letters. No QWERTY keyboard for these folks. Icelandic is the official language and the first one children learn at home and at school. It's the root of most Scandinavian languages, especially Danish, so that's usually language number two. Then English. Then it used to be Spanish but now Chinese is quite popular. I still remember our guide Kevin in China years ago who was stunned that Americans (and evidently Icelanders) were learning Chinese. He just said, "Why? We're all learning English."
Unlike yesterday's Meanie Beanie (As we were wandering about she included a 45 minute screed on how tourists were ruining the island for Icelanders. Not exactly the usual upbeat, cordial representative), our guide on day two was a pleasant chap named something unpronounceable (Just call me Randy) who told us that it was a constant effort to keep the Icelandic language alive and unsullied by foreign phrases. "It's hard to learn and hard to speak."
As we set off at 7:30 AM on the classic, all day tour "Best of the Golden Circle: Thingvellir, Gullfoss & Geyser" Jim and I realized we had visited half of the scheduled sites the day before. I'm not quite sure how it happened but, oh well we didn't see the waterfall (Gullfoss) or Geyser yesterday so lead on. The Koningsdam arrived late yesterday afternoon. It's twice as big as the Rotterdam with twice as many people, most of whom seem to be headed on the Golden Circle, too. I counted at least eleven buses being loaded. It's also Sunday in the height of the tourist season. And it's sunny. Every place we visited was mobbed. Fortunately most of them are wide open and vast and can accommodate a lot of people. The parking lots? Not so much. But who cares? I'm not driving and neither is the put-upon Gregor from yesterday. Today's driver is a veteran who could probably handle this blindfolded and is more than happy to hem in the occasional rental car bold enough to park in a Bus Only slot. Hey, life ain't pretty on the lava fields.
Iceland has some cone-shaped volcanoes that spew and bellow but it has more volcanic rifts. They're literally rips in the earth's surface where the lava is released either as rocks or flow. This island is part of the mid-Atlantic range that stretches between the hemispheres. It is part of the constantly growing underwater range that has broken the surface. Geologically it's the newest place on earth. The land stretches out all lumpy and bumpy because those rocks have yet to break down. And in the thermal areas, here and there steam just drifts up from the ground.
The population lives along the coast. Not only is there ice in them thar hills, but Randy keeps calling it the uninhabitable wilderness. It seems that people are lost out there - forever! - every year. It's not that they're eaten by something ferocious. The only native mammal is a white fox. Randy says the wilderness just swallows them up. Yowza.
Geyser is an Icelandic word pronounced with a lot of rolling Rs and th sounds, but it means the same thing in English. The Geyser Geothermal Area east of Reykjavik is in the farming region. In the midst of the multitude of hot springs is a geyser that goes off every five minutes or so. This eruption is dependable enough that the park has enough visitors to support a hotel, restaurant and store. The thermal fields are quite extensive with endless paths to lead one safely around and over the hot water flowing in little streams. There is also a big sign at the entrance alerting that you are here at your own risk with 9 rules and reasons why you should NOT touch the springs, mud or water. The last on the list: The nearest hospital is 62 Kilometers away. I gave up counting the number of people walking through the streams or sticking their hands in the water. It's another Darwinian spot to wean out the idiots.
Hundreds if not thousands of people are wandering all around the park with a number shoulder to shoulder in a big circle around the geyser (ropes to keep everyone at an appropriate distance), cameras, phones and iPads (sorry iPad photo takers, but you always have your machine blocking the view of everyone around you. Use your phone, dammit.) ready to hit the button when it blows. It steams, it steams, it steams and then, boom! It spouts a fountain of water at least 50 feet straight up into the air. Click, click, click......and then everyone lowers their photographic equipment and watches the water fall back down and disappear. Bucket list: Geyser. Check.
There was a great store with tons of stuff but the prices were heart stopping. $50 US for a Tshirt. Made in Portugal! And anything either knitted or with fur was in the hundreds. Pass. I might just be leaving Iceland with memories not merch.
Onward to Gullfoss, which somehow in Icelandic is also pronounced with rolling Rs and Th sounds. However you say it, Gullfoss is rightly labeled the most beautiful waterfall in Iceland. The water is melted glacier ice that flows 180 km down the White River to this canyon with a wide and steep drop. It's clearly set up for the thousands of people who visit with firm gravel paths, wooden walkways and stairs that take you down to River level. Gullfoss means golden shower and when the sun hits the water as it goes over the edge it does look golden. Very impressive. Jim and I walked along the top of the canyon enjoying the sight, sound and mist. I think I like the sound the best. Before you reach the canyon you hear the thunder of the water hitting the rocks. One of the informational signs along the walkway told exactly how much water went over the falls every second or minute. I can't remember the number other than it was big!
There are a lot of sheep and horses in Iceland. 500,000 of the former and a whole lot of the latter. It seems that every field and pasture has horses. Yesterday our guidette kept telling us the sheep were for wool and the horses for recreation. Hmmm. Waaaay too many for wool and riding. She finally conceded that they ate both sheep and horses. And Puffins. Not the Puffins! Intellectually I know that hamburgers come from cattle (finger in each ear, "la la la la la") but the sheep are shaggy, the horses beautiful and the Puffins just too cute for words. I saw a KFC along the way. I can only hope it really is KFC not KFP.
Our last stop was the same power station we visited yesterday. Since I hadn't gained any scientific enlightenment overnight I decided to chillax on the bus while the others went in. After about five minutes or so I decided to turn on my phone and see if there was wifi available. Surprise! Yes! And a strong signal. Let the mail reading and podcast downloading begin. It was all just arriving at lightning speed and then, gradually it slowed to a crawl. I looked up and counted 13 buses that had arrived while I wasn't paying attention. No doubt at least half of them had seized upon the wifi, too. I do hate to share.
We arrived back at the pier on time and in time to watch the Koningsdam slowly pull from the dock and head out. We left 5:30ish for Norway, two sea days east. The seas have been so calm so far. Is that tempting fate to write that?
Day Two
The Icelandic alphabet has 38 letters. No QWERTY keyboard for these folks. Icelandic is the official language and the first one children learn at home and at school. It's the root of most Scandinavian languages, especially Danish, so that's usually language number two. Then English. Then it used to be Spanish but now Chinese is quite popular. I still remember our guide Kevin in China years ago who was stunned that Americans (and evidently Icelanders) were learning Chinese. He just said, "Why? We're all learning English."
Unlike yesterday's Meanie Beanie (As we were wandering about she included a 45 minute screed on how tourists were ruining the island for Icelanders. Not exactly the usual upbeat, cordial representative), our guide on day two was a pleasant chap named something unpronounceable (Just call me Randy) who told us that it was a constant effort to keep the Icelandic language alive and unsullied by foreign phrases. "It's hard to learn and hard to speak."
As we set off at 7:30 AM on the classic, all day tour "Best of the Golden Circle: Thingvellir, Gullfoss & Geyser" Jim and I realized we had visited half of the scheduled sites the day before. I'm not quite sure how it happened but, oh well we didn't see the waterfall (Gullfoss) or Geyser yesterday so lead on. The Koningsdam arrived late yesterday afternoon. It's twice as big as the Rotterdam with twice as many people, most of whom seem to be headed on the Golden Circle, too. I counted at least eleven buses being loaded. It's also Sunday in the height of the tourist season. And it's sunny. Every place we visited was mobbed. Fortunately most of them are wide open and vast and can accommodate a lot of people. The parking lots? Not so much. But who cares? I'm not driving and neither is the put-upon Gregor from yesterday. Today's driver is a veteran who could probably handle this blindfolded and is more than happy to hem in the occasional rental car bold enough to park in a Bus Only slot. Hey, life ain't pretty on the lava fields.
Iceland has some cone-shaped volcanoes that spew and bellow but it has more volcanic rifts. They're literally rips in the earth's surface where the lava is released either as rocks or flow. This island is part of the mid-Atlantic range that stretches between the hemispheres. It is part of the constantly growing underwater range that has broken the surface. Geologically it's the newest place on earth. The land stretches out all lumpy and bumpy because those rocks have yet to break down. And in the thermal areas, here and there steam just drifts up from the ground.
The population lives along the coast. Not only is there ice in them thar hills, but Randy keeps calling it the uninhabitable wilderness. It seems that people are lost out there - forever! - every year. It's not that they're eaten by something ferocious. The only native mammal is a white fox. Randy says the wilderness just swallows them up. Yowza.
Geyser is an Icelandic word pronounced with a lot of rolling Rs and th sounds, but it means the same thing in English. The Geyser Geothermal Area east of Reykjavik is in the farming region. In the midst of the multitude of hot springs is a geyser that goes off every five minutes or so. This eruption is dependable enough that the park has enough visitors to support a hotel, restaurant and store. The thermal fields are quite extensive with endless paths to lead one safely around and over the hot water flowing in little streams. There is also a big sign at the entrance alerting that you are here at your own risk with 9 rules and reasons why you should NOT touch the springs, mud or water. The last on the list: The nearest hospital is 62 Kilometers away. I gave up counting the number of people walking through the streams or sticking their hands in the water. It's another Darwinian spot to wean out the idiots.
Hundreds if not thousands of people are wandering all around the park with a number shoulder to shoulder in a big circle around the geyser (ropes to keep everyone at an appropriate distance), cameras, phones and iPads (sorry iPad photo takers, but you always have your machine blocking the view of everyone around you. Use your phone, dammit.) ready to hit the button when it blows. It steams, it steams, it steams and then, boom! It spouts a fountain of water at least 50 feet straight up into the air. Click, click, click......and then everyone lowers their photographic equipment and watches the water fall back down and disappear. Bucket list: Geyser. Check.
There was a great store with tons of stuff but the prices were heart stopping. $50 US for a Tshirt. Made in Portugal! And anything either knitted or with fur was in the hundreds. Pass. I might just be leaving Iceland with memories not merch.
Onward to Gullfoss, which somehow in Icelandic is also pronounced with rolling Rs and Th sounds. However you say it, Gullfoss is rightly labeled the most beautiful waterfall in Iceland. The water is melted glacier ice that flows 180 km down the White River to this canyon with a wide and steep drop. It's clearly set up for the thousands of people who visit with firm gravel paths, wooden walkways and stairs that take you down to River level. Gullfoss means golden shower and when the sun hits the water as it goes over the edge it does look golden. Very impressive. Jim and I walked along the top of the canyon enjoying the sight, sound and mist. I think I like the sound the best. Before you reach the canyon you hear the thunder of the water hitting the rocks. One of the informational signs along the walkway told exactly how much water went over the falls every second or minute. I can't remember the number other than it was big!
There are a lot of sheep and horses in Iceland. 500,000 of the former and a whole lot of the latter. It seems that every field and pasture has horses. Yesterday our guidette kept telling us the sheep were for wool and the horses for recreation. Hmmm. Waaaay too many for wool and riding. She finally conceded that they ate both sheep and horses. And Puffins. Not the Puffins! Intellectually I know that hamburgers come from cattle (finger in each ear, "la la la la la") but the sheep are shaggy, the horses beautiful and the Puffins just too cute for words. I saw a KFC along the way. I can only hope it really is KFC not KFP.
Our last stop was the same power station we visited yesterday. Since I hadn't gained any scientific enlightenment overnight I decided to chillax on the bus while the others went in. After about five minutes or so I decided to turn on my phone and see if there was wifi available. Surprise! Yes! And a strong signal. Let the mail reading and podcast downloading begin. It was all just arriving at lightning speed and then, gradually it slowed to a crawl. I looked up and counted 13 buses that had arrived while I wasn't paying attention. No doubt at least half of them had seized upon the wifi, too. I do hate to share.
We arrived back at the pier on time and in time to watch the Koningsdam slowly pull from the dock and head out. We left 5:30ish for Norway, two sea days east. The seas have been so calm so far. Is that tempting fate to write that?
Reykjavik, Iceland, August 12, 2017
Reykjavik, Iceland, August 12, 2017
Day One
Things I'd learnedabout Iceland: Not much ice, only inland glaciers; not many trees, only 1% of the island was naturally forested; lots of lava, mostly rocks. When I woke up August 12th we had arrived in Reykjavik. I opened the curtains and saw a narrow channel and across the water a spit of dark green land and a multi-windowed, white building with a steep roof. No ice, no trees. In the distance was a rocky, volcanic ridge and blue sky above. Iceland!
A quick trip up to the Lido for breakfast and a look out the other side of the ship. Ewwwww. We were docked in a commercial port with absolutely nothing to make it look attractive. Lots of big metal buildings, a big pile of junked cars, a container of old tires and since we're tied up at the end of the dock allowing room for the storm-delayed Koningsdam, a long, long walk from the ship to the terminal. Reykjavik itself is in the distance. The skyline is low save for the soaring steeple of the Lutheran cathedral. This is an ACTIVE volcanic island with constant earthquakes and eruptions so I guess skyscrapers wouldn't be the wisest choice. Plus the entire population of the country is 340,000 with 200,000 in and around Reykjavik so giant apartment complexes probably aren't necessary.
We'd selected an afternoon tour around an active volcano just a few miles from Reykjavik with thoughts of taking the shuttle into town in the morning to poke around a bit. However, it wasGay Pride Day in Reykjavik and all the major roads in and out were closed in anticipation of the large crowds (100,000) and parade. No matter, the cruise terminal building is actually a very large store with oodles of souvenirs to take home, post cards, stamps, a mail box and free wifi. The trick with the wifi is to get online when relatively few people are doing the same otherwise you just watch the wheel spin as you try to download email. Since we'll be in port for two days pretty much all of the crew will have time ashore at one time or another. These guys are wifi wizards. Somehow they all seem to snag enough band width to Face Time with their families halfway around the world while I'm watching "Downloading..." on my phone.
The weather seems to change constantly; one moment it's bright and sunny and then a bank of dark clouds appears and it's raining and then it's sunny again.It's chilly but not off-putting, maybe 50 or so.
The island is as eerily beautiful as advertised, all volcanic rifts and fields and steam rising here and there from the active geothermal pools just below the surface. As the lava ages, after a thousand years or so, a pale, grey-green moss gradually takes hold and eventually grasses. The topography looks, oddly enough, like Easter Island but newer, geologically speaking. So other-worldly that before the moon landings, the astronauts trained here because it resembled the surface of the moon.
All of the energy needs of the country, save gas and diesel fuel for cars (and they'll all be electric by 2025) is geothermic. We stopped by one of the two major power stations in the steaming, thermal fields where giant turbines somehow turn the hot water into electricity (hey, Liberal Arts here. I'll never understand why I flip a switch and the lights go on) and endless miles of surface pipelines carry the hot water into Reykjavik where it is used to heat the buildings. The cold water is provided by rain and melting glacier water that is filtered down, down, down through thousands of years of lava (a forty year journey) until it is pure and clear and perfect for drinking.
We ate at a small restaurant where everything is cooked in the bubbling hot water rising up from the earth. The outdoor "stove" was a series of vats containing the naturally occurring boiling water. You'd really have to know what you were doing. At a small thermal "garden" we walked on roped off paths through a field of hot springs (Ubiquitous warning signs all over Iceland: "Don't touch the water. The temperature is 80-100 C") bubbling mud and -surprise!- a small geyser! You could buy a raw egg at the entrance, put it in a net tied to a rope and then carefully lower it into a hot spring and eight minutes later, out it came hard boiled! A geothermal Insta Pot!
Because of the ocean currents, Iceland is relatively temperate in the winter. There are apple and cherry orchards but all the produce is grown in green houses. Evidently the rule is nothing can be imported that is already being grown in country. (A Trumpian dream) Wages are high, but so is the cost of living and the income taxes to support the frees: education, medical care, etc. I wish we had gotten to visit a local grocery store. That is always the best way to analyze prices. I've since learned that there is a Costco in Iceland and it is packed with shoppers thrilled at the lower prices. Jim wants to know if they have the $1.50 hot dog.
We also stopped at a UNESCO World Heritage Site (there are a lot of those around the world) where the first Parliament in the world was established by the Vikings a thousand years or so ago. It's also the site of the country's largest national park. Rifts and lakes and vistas. Quite beautiful. We were supposed to be back at the ship around 6 pm (it's light until at least 10 pm) but our driver kept missing the turns. Icelandic roads are very nice and smooth, usually two lane, but the road signs are small and written in that wacky alphabet. Gregor, the driver, is Polish. A quick note: the number of visitors to Iceland has risen so high so quickly that there is a mad scramble to provide the infrastructure to support tourism. There aren't enough natives to build it all, so labor is imported from other countries. It's Gregor's first day and I'm quite certain he doesn't read Icelandic so relies on our rather snippy guide for turns. She does this by yelling at him in Icelandic that he's just missed the turn. Stop. Back up bus. Make turn. And repeat. Finally we are out in the middle of nowhere at quite literally the fork in the road. Suddenly one of the massive 4-wheel drive vehicles that takes tourists out to the middle of this nowhere appears. Since we are blocking the fork in the road, at her command Gregor rolls down the window and the She Wolf asks the other guy which way to Reykjavik. Since I don't understand Icelandic either, I'm just assuming that was the question cuz the guy in the 4-Wheel drive was stunned at the question and wordlessly pointed to the road not taken. By then our group was evenly divided between those who realized this day was going to yield a lot of great travel stories and those whose schedule was disrupted and not only had they missed the first seating for dinner they had also missed the showing of an Icelandic movie called Ram about a shepherd. With subtitles. And also by then the tour company had called Mc McNasty to ask her where the hell we were and when were we getting back. Turned out we were only about 20 minutes from Reykjavik and the port but we were still an hour late. Fortunately this is an overnight stop so no "all aboard" time on Day One. Otherwise we would have arrived to find the ship's engines running, the local dock workers ready to cast off the lines, an anxious security officer pacing at the foot of the gangway and a whole lotta fellow passengers watching from various decks and verandahs.
Day One
Things I'd learnedabout Iceland: Not much ice, only inland glaciers; not many trees, only 1% of the island was naturally forested; lots of lava, mostly rocks. When I woke up August 12th we had arrived in Reykjavik. I opened the curtains and saw a narrow channel and across the water a spit of dark green land and a multi-windowed, white building with a steep roof. No ice, no trees. In the distance was a rocky, volcanic ridge and blue sky above. Iceland!
A quick trip up to the Lido for breakfast and a look out the other side of the ship. Ewwwww. We were docked in a commercial port with absolutely nothing to make it look attractive. Lots of big metal buildings, a big pile of junked cars, a container of old tires and since we're tied up at the end of the dock allowing room for the storm-delayed Koningsdam, a long, long walk from the ship to the terminal. Reykjavik itself is in the distance. The skyline is low save for the soaring steeple of the Lutheran cathedral. This is an ACTIVE volcanic island with constant earthquakes and eruptions so I guess skyscrapers wouldn't be the wisest choice. Plus the entire population of the country is 340,000 with 200,000 in and around Reykjavik so giant apartment complexes probably aren't necessary.
We'd selected an afternoon tour around an active volcano just a few miles from Reykjavik with thoughts of taking the shuttle into town in the morning to poke around a bit. However, it wasGay Pride Day in Reykjavik and all the major roads in and out were closed in anticipation of the large crowds (100,000) and parade. No matter, the cruise terminal building is actually a very large store with oodles of souvenirs to take home, post cards, stamps, a mail box and free wifi. The trick with the wifi is to get online when relatively few people are doing the same otherwise you just watch the wheel spin as you try to download email. Since we'll be in port for two days pretty much all of the crew will have time ashore at one time or another. These guys are wifi wizards. Somehow they all seem to snag enough band width to Face Time with their families halfway around the world while I'm watching "Downloading..." on my phone.
The weather seems to change constantly; one moment it's bright and sunny and then a bank of dark clouds appears and it's raining and then it's sunny again.It's chilly but not off-putting, maybe 50 or so.
The island is as eerily beautiful as advertised, all volcanic rifts and fields and steam rising here and there from the active geothermal pools just below the surface. As the lava ages, after a thousand years or so, a pale, grey-green moss gradually takes hold and eventually grasses. The topography looks, oddly enough, like Easter Island but newer, geologically speaking. So other-worldly that before the moon landings, the astronauts trained here because it resembled the surface of the moon.
All of the energy needs of the country, save gas and diesel fuel for cars (and they'll all be electric by 2025) is geothermic. We stopped by one of the two major power stations in the steaming, thermal fields where giant turbines somehow turn the hot water into electricity (hey, Liberal Arts here. I'll never understand why I flip a switch and the lights go on) and endless miles of surface pipelines carry the hot water into Reykjavik where it is used to heat the buildings. The cold water is provided by rain and melting glacier water that is filtered down, down, down through thousands of years of lava (a forty year journey) until it is pure and clear and perfect for drinking.
We ate at a small restaurant where everything is cooked in the bubbling hot water rising up from the earth. The outdoor "stove" was a series of vats containing the naturally occurring boiling water. You'd really have to know what you were doing. At a small thermal "garden" we walked on roped off paths through a field of hot springs (Ubiquitous warning signs all over Iceland: "Don't touch the water. The temperature is 80-100 C") bubbling mud and -surprise!- a small geyser! You could buy a raw egg at the entrance, put it in a net tied to a rope and then carefully lower it into a hot spring and eight minutes later, out it came hard boiled! A geothermal Insta Pot!
Because of the ocean currents, Iceland is relatively temperate in the winter. There are apple and cherry orchards but all the produce is grown in green houses. Evidently the rule is nothing can be imported that is already being grown in country. (A Trumpian dream) Wages are high, but so is the cost of living and the income taxes to support the frees: education, medical care, etc. I wish we had gotten to visit a local grocery store. That is always the best way to analyze prices. I've since learned that there is a Costco in Iceland and it is packed with shoppers thrilled at the lower prices. Jim wants to know if they have the $1.50 hot dog.
We also stopped at a UNESCO World Heritage Site (there are a lot of those around the world) where the first Parliament in the world was established by the Vikings a thousand years or so ago. It's also the site of the country's largest national park. Rifts and lakes and vistas. Quite beautiful. We were supposed to be back at the ship around 6 pm (it's light until at least 10 pm) but our driver kept missing the turns. Icelandic roads are very nice and smooth, usually two lane, but the road signs are small and written in that wacky alphabet. Gregor, the driver, is Polish. A quick note: the number of visitors to Iceland has risen so high so quickly that there is a mad scramble to provide the infrastructure to support tourism. There aren't enough natives to build it all, so labor is imported from other countries. It's Gregor's first day and I'm quite certain he doesn't read Icelandic so relies on our rather snippy guide for turns. She does this by yelling at him in Icelandic that he's just missed the turn. Stop. Back up bus. Make turn. And repeat. Finally we are out in the middle of nowhere at quite literally the fork in the road. Suddenly one of the massive 4-wheel drive vehicles that takes tourists out to the middle of this nowhere appears. Since we are blocking the fork in the road, at her command Gregor rolls down the window and the She Wolf asks the other guy which way to Reykjavik. Since I don't understand Icelandic either, I'm just assuming that was the question cuz the guy in the 4-Wheel drive was stunned at the question and wordlessly pointed to the road not taken. By then our group was evenly divided between those who realized this day was going to yield a lot of great travel stories and those whose schedule was disrupted and not only had they missed the first seating for dinner they had also missed the showing of an Icelandic movie called Ram about a shepherd. With subtitles. And also by then the tour company had called Mc McNasty to ask her where the hell we were and when were we getting back. Turned out we were only about 20 minutes from Reykjavik and the port but we were still an hour late. Fortunately this is an overnight stop so no "all aboard" time on Day One. Otherwise we would have arrived to find the ship's engines running, the local dock workers ready to cast off the lines, an anxious security officer pacing at the foot of the gangway and a whole lotta fellow passengers watching from various decks and verandahs.
Friday, August 11, 2017
Prince Christian Sound, August 10, 2017
Prince Christian Sound, Greenland, August 10, 2017
Yesterday in Qaqortoq, the Captain went up in the red helicopter that serves the town and made a quick trip up the Prince Christian Sound to see if the ice clogged eastern entrance had cleared. As he had suspected it had not so rather than cruising through the Sound he was going to Plan B and would drive the boat up the Sound while we slept and then at 7 am, would U-turn and we would sail back at a stately pace (10 knots or so) to the western opening, about a four or five hour journey.
80% of Greenland (the interior) is covered by an ice sheet second in mass only to Antarctica. It's so thick in the center of the island that the weight of it has pushed the land to below sea level. Gradually this ice creeps to the coastline in the form of glaciers. Chunks break off (calving), fall to the sea and become icebergs. We saw some bergs that had been carried by the tide in and around Qaqortoq yesterday. There are quite a few in the Sound. They're not the monsters we saw near Antarctica but still an impressive size. Because it's fairly warm (low 50s) they gradually melt as they travel along. Good thing. Otherwise there'd be icebergs in the Keys!
Barbara, the LG, narrated the cruise talking about the geography of the region, birds, vegetation (not much, just moss on the mountainsides), etc. This is when I must confess that I did not rise and shine in time to catch the turn around. In my defense, we had to move the clocks forward another hour last night and my cranky quotient is directly related to hours of sleep. Less sleep = more cranky. So I did the next best thing; got dressed and went out on the deck 9-ish (go through the Showroom on 4, through the crew-only passageway to the big step and narrow door that leads outside) and asked the lady standing next to me what I'd missed. Not much.
The scenery is stark, dramatic and forbidding. We left the trees and flowers back in Labrador. The coastline of Greenland consists of massive, craggy mountains rising steeply (no beaches) up from the ocean floor. We've seen the occasional bird flying past but absolutely no land animals. As they push to the sea glaciers grind the mountains down into smooth U shaped valleys that eventually become fjords. The mountains not crushed by the glaciers rise to uneven, sharp peaks. We passed a number of glaciers spilling down to the sea and even more waterfalls fed by melting ice plunging hundreds of feet also to the sea. Along the tops of the mountains you can see the edges of the ice sheet. And it's quiet, so quiet. We did not encounter another vessel but we did spot a cluster of a few buildings on the shore of this tiny little protected bay with a sailboat at anchor. I cannot imagine that journey. One would have to time one's departure to get out before the winter ice blocks the Sound. We're keeping a list of Things to Google When We're Not Paying 50 Cents Per Minute for Internet and that unexpected outpost is definitely on it.
It wasn't as cold in the Sound as expected. We didn't go full Arctic Expedition but we did have on long pants (even Jim!), long sleeves, Polar fleece, gloves and hats. The Sound is quite narrow, protected from the wind so it was closer to 50 than 40. But you could still pretend it was freezing and thus the hot mulled wine available was a necessity and could be allowed on the list of acceptable day drinking situations: brunch, airplanes and now outside, surrounded by glaciers.
As I'm typing this we've left the Sound and turned left passing Cape Farewell (love that name) at the southernmost tip of Greenland on our way to Iceland. The sun is out, sort of. At least there are some breaks in the clouds. A lot of grey skies up on top of the Earth.
The Captain just made his daily noon announcements and told us that the weather was so bad last night as the ship made it's way up the Sound that he nearly cancelled the whole thing. But about 2 am the heavy rain finally abated and on we continued. Stuff happens on these trips so the itineraries are always subject to change. It's not like we're eating hard tack, lashed to the mast. As long as they keep putting out those little raisin buns at breakfast and the world's best ever bread pudding at lunch I'm good to go wherever.
We're really punks in the trips taken tally. Last night we had dinner with a man who has taken this trip nine times before. He's been everywhere else, too and was supposed to be on the World Cruise we took in '13. Another man at the table travels constantly, too. He is a frequent flier on six different cruise lines so Lois Lane here asked him a million questions about his favorites, etc. Both of the men had taken trips on the huge ships that carry thousands and although they preferred smaller ships, said that the crew on the big ones were masterful at getting everyone on and off. We might have to try one---a short one!
The what-time-is-showtime conundrum continues. Last night they tried 6 and 8 instead of 8 and 10 which seemed to help balance out the attendance so they'll do it again tonight. However, not only do old people not like change, when change happens they complain. A lot. Evidently the 8 o'clock group continues to send ahead a scout to save seats for friends. Saving seats in the theater and chaises on the pool deck is forbidden but done anyway. (The guys told us that on the big ships you get a ticket for a specific seat at the shows) Old people complain about other people breaking the laws of the land but claim Old People Immunity when they do it. Like that 80+ year old woman that keeps robbing jewelry stores around Atlanta. She always gets caught, always plays the Old Lady card (she looks like Miss Marple), always gets off and then immediately does it all again. So tomorrow night the shows in the Showroom will be at 8 and 9:30. The Cruise Director says that the doors for the early show will open promptly at 7:30 and close at 8. No seat saving which I'm sure the several hundred 5 Star Mariners aboard will do anyway. Evidently the later show people are no problem. The dining room is all the way forward on 4 and 5. The theater is all the way aft on 4 and 5. Early dinner seating at 5:30. Finished around 7 which means a serious stampede from one end of the ship to the other soon after. We, of course, will stay above the fray quite literally by taking refuge in the Crow's Nest on 9. And people think that sea travel is dull. You just have to keep an ear to the ground, your eyes open and schmooze with the staff to find the drama.
Yesterday in Qaqortoq, the Captain went up in the red helicopter that serves the town and made a quick trip up the Prince Christian Sound to see if the ice clogged eastern entrance had cleared. As he had suspected it had not so rather than cruising through the Sound he was going to Plan B and would drive the boat up the Sound while we slept and then at 7 am, would U-turn and we would sail back at a stately pace (10 knots or so) to the western opening, about a four or five hour journey.
80% of Greenland (the interior) is covered by an ice sheet second in mass only to Antarctica. It's so thick in the center of the island that the weight of it has pushed the land to below sea level. Gradually this ice creeps to the coastline in the form of glaciers. Chunks break off (calving), fall to the sea and become icebergs. We saw some bergs that had been carried by the tide in and around Qaqortoq yesterday. There are quite a few in the Sound. They're not the monsters we saw near Antarctica but still an impressive size. Because it's fairly warm (low 50s) they gradually melt as they travel along. Good thing. Otherwise there'd be icebergs in the Keys!
Barbara, the LG, narrated the cruise talking about the geography of the region, birds, vegetation (not much, just moss on the mountainsides), etc. This is when I must confess that I did not rise and shine in time to catch the turn around. In my defense, we had to move the clocks forward another hour last night and my cranky quotient is directly related to hours of sleep. Less sleep = more cranky. So I did the next best thing; got dressed and went out on the deck 9-ish (go through the Showroom on 4, through the crew-only passageway to the big step and narrow door that leads outside) and asked the lady standing next to me what I'd missed. Not much.
The scenery is stark, dramatic and forbidding. We left the trees and flowers back in Labrador. The coastline of Greenland consists of massive, craggy mountains rising steeply (no beaches) up from the ocean floor. We've seen the occasional bird flying past but absolutely no land animals. As they push to the sea glaciers grind the mountains down into smooth U shaped valleys that eventually become fjords. The mountains not crushed by the glaciers rise to uneven, sharp peaks. We passed a number of glaciers spilling down to the sea and even more waterfalls fed by melting ice plunging hundreds of feet also to the sea. Along the tops of the mountains you can see the edges of the ice sheet. And it's quiet, so quiet. We did not encounter another vessel but we did spot a cluster of a few buildings on the shore of this tiny little protected bay with a sailboat at anchor. I cannot imagine that journey. One would have to time one's departure to get out before the winter ice blocks the Sound. We're keeping a list of Things to Google When We're Not Paying 50 Cents Per Minute for Internet and that unexpected outpost is definitely on it.
It wasn't as cold in the Sound as expected. We didn't go full Arctic Expedition but we did have on long pants (even Jim!), long sleeves, Polar fleece, gloves and hats. The Sound is quite narrow, protected from the wind so it was closer to 50 than 40. But you could still pretend it was freezing and thus the hot mulled wine available was a necessity and could be allowed on the list of acceptable day drinking situations: brunch, airplanes and now outside, surrounded by glaciers.
As I'm typing this we've left the Sound and turned left passing Cape Farewell (love that name) at the southernmost tip of Greenland on our way to Iceland. The sun is out, sort of. At least there are some breaks in the clouds. A lot of grey skies up on top of the Earth.
The Captain just made his daily noon announcements and told us that the weather was so bad last night as the ship made it's way up the Sound that he nearly cancelled the whole thing. But about 2 am the heavy rain finally abated and on we continued. Stuff happens on these trips so the itineraries are always subject to change. It's not like we're eating hard tack, lashed to the mast. As long as they keep putting out those little raisin buns at breakfast and the world's best ever bread pudding at lunch I'm good to go wherever.
We're really punks in the trips taken tally. Last night we had dinner with a man who has taken this trip nine times before. He's been everywhere else, too and was supposed to be on the World Cruise we took in '13. Another man at the table travels constantly, too. He is a frequent flier on six different cruise lines so Lois Lane here asked him a million questions about his favorites, etc. Both of the men had taken trips on the huge ships that carry thousands and although they preferred smaller ships, said that the crew on the big ones were masterful at getting everyone on and off. We might have to try one---a short one!
The what-time-is-showtime conundrum continues. Last night they tried 6 and 8 instead of 8 and 10 which seemed to help balance out the attendance so they'll do it again tonight. However, not only do old people not like change, when change happens they complain. A lot. Evidently the 8 o'clock group continues to send ahead a scout to save seats for friends. Saving seats in the theater and chaises on the pool deck is forbidden but done anyway. (The guys told us that on the big ships you get a ticket for a specific seat at the shows) Old people complain about other people breaking the laws of the land but claim Old People Immunity when they do it. Like that 80+ year old woman that keeps robbing jewelry stores around Atlanta. She always gets caught, always plays the Old Lady card (she looks like Miss Marple), always gets off and then immediately does it all again. So tomorrow night the shows in the Showroom will be at 8 and 9:30. The Cruise Director says that the doors for the early show will open promptly at 7:30 and close at 8. No seat saving which I'm sure the several hundred 5 Star Mariners aboard will do anyway. Evidently the later show people are no problem. The dining room is all the way forward on 4 and 5. The theater is all the way aft on 4 and 5. Early dinner seating at 5:30. Finished around 7 which means a serious stampede from one end of the ship to the other soon after. We, of course, will stay above the fray quite literally by taking refuge in the Crow's Nest on 9. And people think that sea travel is dull. You just have to keep an ear to the ground, your eyes open and schmooze with the staff to find the drama.
Qaqortoq, Greenland, August 9, 2017
Qaqortoq, Greenland, August 9, 2017
Greenland!
Qaqortoq is in a nice harbor but the pier isn't large enough for the Rotterdam so we're anchored just a bit off shore and will tender to and from the ship. The town rambles up the hillsides. Maybe 3,000 people or so. From appearances you can definitely see Inuit features and coloring. The children are zooming around on bikes shyly looking at this phalanx of interlopers who've arrived for a few hours. The adults seem supremely uninterested in us, quite the opposite of the Canadians in the previous ports who really threw themselves into meeting and greeting. English and Danish are spoken as well as Greenlandic. That language is pretty indecipherable. The alphabet has a some oddities thrown in and the words are long, lots of root words with prefixes and suffixes tacked on. They also have their own currency but accepted dollars and Euros, credit and debit cards. I found the Banken after I'd used my debit card so no Greenlandic Krona to bring home. There is a small gift shop/tourist information office, a museum, a dress shop, outdoor wear shop, a church, hotel, police station, grocery store and what looked like a good sized bar/nightclub called Rockhouse.
There are some fishing boats of various sizes here and there plus a large, permanent loading dock with an assortment of small shipping containers. We've seen a couple of taxis and a vintage bus and assortment of cars, vans and small SUVs flying by us on the two lane road that winds along the waterfront. There are 30 KM signs posted that are totally ignored. I'm not sure what I expected to find here, but somehow automobiles were not on the list. I didn't see a gas station so have no idea how much it costs. We did visit the grocery store. It was small but well-stocked with a variety of packaged goods from all over. The stuff wasn't cheap but since everything is imported I didn't think the prices were outrageous. Usually in a foreign grocery store you can find some odd things like salt cod flavored potato chips but they just had the usual assortment. Big display of bottles of Roses Lime Juice. I should have asked the clerk what they used it for. If everyone in town had a couple of vodka gimlets every evening they wouldn't make a dent in that supply.
All the buildings are brightly colored (red, blue, green, yellow) with steep roofs. The lady sitting next to me on the tender said one hillside of houses looked like a jigsaw puzzle. It being early August the vegetation was lush and green. Some buttercups and lupine but mostly weeds. There really isn't any soil good enough or deep enough to garden. No hanging baskets or window boxes of flowers that were everywhere in the Canadian ports. If it weren't for the colors of the buildings this would really be a grim place. Greenland doesn't have much natural color. It's all brown and grey cliffs and rocks. Lots of big boulders here and there, sometimes in retaining walls, along the roads or just wherever they were found. Various artists have carved into them so it's like walking through a sculpture garden.
An informal group of craft tables were manned by the makers. Lots of knick knacks carved from bones and stones. No trees to provide wood. The native women continue to do intricate beading of collars, cuffs and jewelry and also make clothing and accessories from seal skins. The people hunt seals and one whale per year for food not sport. There is a large tannery on one side of the harbor. I'm not sure if it's even legal to bring seal skin items into the US but I wasn't tempted at all.
The ship hadn't arranged any excursions at all. It seemed that most of us just wanted to walk around to say we'd been there. I did buy one of those tote bags you see everywhere with the name of the city or country emblazoned all over it. GREENLAND! Greenland! Greenland! Subtle it ain't but who goes to Greenland and doesn't go home and casually throw into a conversation, "When I was in Greenland..." Be forewarned everyone.
Greenland!
Qaqortoq is in a nice harbor but the pier isn't large enough for the Rotterdam so we're anchored just a bit off shore and will tender to and from the ship. The town rambles up the hillsides. Maybe 3,000 people or so. From appearances you can definitely see Inuit features and coloring. The children are zooming around on bikes shyly looking at this phalanx of interlopers who've arrived for a few hours. The adults seem supremely uninterested in us, quite the opposite of the Canadians in the previous ports who really threw themselves into meeting and greeting. English and Danish are spoken as well as Greenlandic. That language is pretty indecipherable. The alphabet has a some oddities thrown in and the words are long, lots of root words with prefixes and suffixes tacked on. They also have their own currency but accepted dollars and Euros, credit and debit cards. I found the Banken after I'd used my debit card so no Greenlandic Krona to bring home. There is a small gift shop/tourist information office, a museum, a dress shop, outdoor wear shop, a church, hotel, police station, grocery store and what looked like a good sized bar/nightclub called Rockhouse.
There are some fishing boats of various sizes here and there plus a large, permanent loading dock with an assortment of small shipping containers. We've seen a couple of taxis and a vintage bus and assortment of cars, vans and small SUVs flying by us on the two lane road that winds along the waterfront. There are 30 KM signs posted that are totally ignored. I'm not sure what I expected to find here, but somehow automobiles were not on the list. I didn't see a gas station so have no idea how much it costs. We did visit the grocery store. It was small but well-stocked with a variety of packaged goods from all over. The stuff wasn't cheap but since everything is imported I didn't think the prices were outrageous. Usually in a foreign grocery store you can find some odd things like salt cod flavored potato chips but they just had the usual assortment. Big display of bottles of Roses Lime Juice. I should have asked the clerk what they used it for. If everyone in town had a couple of vodka gimlets every evening they wouldn't make a dent in that supply.
All the buildings are brightly colored (red, blue, green, yellow) with steep roofs. The lady sitting next to me on the tender said one hillside of houses looked like a jigsaw puzzle. It being early August the vegetation was lush and green. Some buttercups and lupine but mostly weeds. There really isn't any soil good enough or deep enough to garden. No hanging baskets or window boxes of flowers that were everywhere in the Canadian ports. If it weren't for the colors of the buildings this would really be a grim place. Greenland doesn't have much natural color. It's all brown and grey cliffs and rocks. Lots of big boulders here and there, sometimes in retaining walls, along the roads or just wherever they were found. Various artists have carved into them so it's like walking through a sculpture garden.
An informal group of craft tables were manned by the makers. Lots of knick knacks carved from bones and stones. No trees to provide wood. The native women continue to do intricate beading of collars, cuffs and jewelry and also make clothing and accessories from seal skins. The people hunt seals and one whale per year for food not sport. There is a large tannery on one side of the harbor. I'm not sure if it's even legal to bring seal skin items into the US but I wasn't tempted at all.
The ship hadn't arranged any excursions at all. It seemed that most of us just wanted to walk around to say we'd been there. I did buy one of those tote bags you see everywhere with the name of the city or country emblazoned all over it. GREENLAND! Greenland! Greenland! Subtle it ain't but who goes to Greenland and doesn't go home and casually throw into a conversation, "When I was in Greenland..." Be forewarned everyone.
Thursday, August 10, 2017
Sea Day, August 8, 2017
Sea Day, August 8, 2017
Clocks forward another 30 minutes. Jim changed the little battery-operated $2 clock from Walmart that we always bring along. The staterooms are like a Vegas casino: no clocks! However, I usually look at my phone but I haven't had it on since Sydney so missed the 30 minute advances. You'd think I could extrapolate the correct time (just add an hour), but evidently that is just too hard for my little pea brain. Which is why on this sea day I slept in until 8 only to discover that it was really 10! Oops. And that is why I missed the talk about the Natural History of Greenland by the entertaining Canadian geologist and half of the what to see and do in Greenland. Oops.
I did, however, get to the showroom in time for the "Ask the Captain" session. On each cruise, the Captain chats a bit about himself and his time at sea and then takes questions from the passengers. This captain is Dutch, married to an American and lives in Charlotte. It is also his last cruise. He will leave the ship in Rotterdam and retire from active captaining. Too bad, he was quite droll and funny. Someone asked about the horn tooting, specifically the fog horn. There aren't many ships along our route, but when one is within five to ten miles, the horn is sounded in a regular rhythm. He also said to be prepared for a whole lot of horn honking going in and out of Rotterdam, the home port in Europe for Holland America. In fact I think he said 2-1/2 hours of noise. We are on the Rotterdam after all. Fine by me. I love the deep, throaty sound.
He also told us about sailing in and out of Greenland. Evidently by Greenland maritime law we must have not one but TWO pilots in their waters. However there are no pilots in Greenland, so we pick them up in Nova Scotia and they get off in Iceland at a cost of $98,000 to the ship. Yowza. That really irked him.
It's another grey day with occasional rocking and rolling, but not much. Better gloomy on sea says and sunny in port.
Tomorrow we will be stopping at Qaqortoq, Greenland. It is a tender port. There are no tours available. However, they do have a cafe, a store and post office. Barbara, our Location Guide, said they have their own currency but will accept Canadian, US and Euros at an interesting exchange rate. Hey, their ball, their rules. It's supposed to be in the 40s but Jim is not quite ready to make it a definite long pants port. Most people just want to get off to say they've been to Greenland.
Greenland is ice and Iceland is green. Just a little fun fact.
Ice permitting we will cruise the Prince Christian Sound the following day. On the previous trip westbound the eastern opening of the Sound was iced in. The captain said he will take a helicopter ride from Qaqortoq to fly over the Sound to see if it's open. Otherwise the ship will sail into the Sound tomorrow night and then out during daylight. More game time decisions. I guess he had to make several itinerary changes from Rotterdam to Boston. We're just hoping that it's clearer so we can enjoy the fjords and maybe spot some whales and seals.
We also learned that we will not be docking close to town in Reykjavik but 3-1/2 miles away alongside the newest HAL ship the Koeningsdam (sp?). There is a city shuttle, $20 a pop. Wow. AND it's Gay Pride Day on our first of two days in port so the usual Hop On/Hop Off buses will not be running. It should be a happenin' place. Jim and I are going out and about the countryside to see bubbling geothermal stuff, volcanoes and weird landscapes. From talking to those who've been there Iceland is a love it or hate it place. They also have their own currency. Jim likes to collect odd foreign coins to use as ball markers on the golf course. He should have a bagful by the end of this trip.
Clocks forward another 30 minutes. Jim changed the little battery-operated $2 clock from Walmart that we always bring along. The staterooms are like a Vegas casino: no clocks! However, I usually look at my phone but I haven't had it on since Sydney so missed the 30 minute advances. You'd think I could extrapolate the correct time (just add an hour), but evidently that is just too hard for my little pea brain. Which is why on this sea day I slept in until 8 only to discover that it was really 10! Oops. And that is why I missed the talk about the Natural History of Greenland by the entertaining Canadian geologist and half of the what to see and do in Greenland. Oops.
I did, however, get to the showroom in time for the "Ask the Captain" session. On each cruise, the Captain chats a bit about himself and his time at sea and then takes questions from the passengers. This captain is Dutch, married to an American and lives in Charlotte. It is also his last cruise. He will leave the ship in Rotterdam and retire from active captaining. Too bad, he was quite droll and funny. Someone asked about the horn tooting, specifically the fog horn. There aren't many ships along our route, but when one is within five to ten miles, the horn is sounded in a regular rhythm. He also said to be prepared for a whole lot of horn honking going in and out of Rotterdam, the home port in Europe for Holland America. In fact I think he said 2-1/2 hours of noise. We are on the Rotterdam after all. Fine by me. I love the deep, throaty sound.
He also told us about sailing in and out of Greenland. Evidently by Greenland maritime law we must have not one but TWO pilots in their waters. However there are no pilots in Greenland, so we pick them up in Nova Scotia and they get off in Iceland at a cost of $98,000 to the ship. Yowza. That really irked him.
It's another grey day with occasional rocking and rolling, but not much. Better gloomy on sea says and sunny in port.
Tomorrow we will be stopping at Qaqortoq, Greenland. It is a tender port. There are no tours available. However, they do have a cafe, a store and post office. Barbara, our Location Guide, said they have their own currency but will accept Canadian, US and Euros at an interesting exchange rate. Hey, their ball, their rules. It's supposed to be in the 40s but Jim is not quite ready to make it a definite long pants port. Most people just want to get off to say they've been to Greenland.
Greenland is ice and Iceland is green. Just a little fun fact.
Ice permitting we will cruise the Prince Christian Sound the following day. On the previous trip westbound the eastern opening of the Sound was iced in. The captain said he will take a helicopter ride from Qaqortoq to fly over the Sound to see if it's open. Otherwise the ship will sail into the Sound tomorrow night and then out during daylight. More game time decisions. I guess he had to make several itinerary changes from Rotterdam to Boston. We're just hoping that it's clearer so we can enjoy the fjords and maybe spot some whales and seals.
We also learned that we will not be docking close to town in Reykjavik but 3-1/2 miles away alongside the newest HAL ship the Koeningsdam (sp?). There is a city shuttle, $20 a pop. Wow. AND it's Gay Pride Day on our first of two days in port so the usual Hop On/Hop Off buses will not be running. It should be a happenin' place. Jim and I are going out and about the countryside to see bubbling geothermal stuff, volcanoes and weird landscapes. From talking to those who've been there Iceland is a love it or hate it place. They also have their own currency. Jim likes to collect odd foreign coins to use as ball markers on the golf course. He should have a bagful by the end of this trip.
Red Bay, Labrador, August 7, 2017
Red Bay, Labrador, August 7, 2017
As we approached Red Bay we spotted some icebergs making their way through the Labrador straights. These bergs break off glaciers in Greenland and then float south until the warmer water and air melt them. The straight is known as Iceberg Alley. You might have seen pictures earlier this summer of some monster bergs floating down past Nova Scotia. The captain told us that chunks break off of these bergs as they travel with the Labrador Current, so ships give them a respectful, wide berth. (Titanic, anyone?)
Now we're getting up and away from the big cities. Labrador: the size of France but a population of just 28,000 people. Population of Red Bay? 150. The ship anchored a ways off shore (we later learned that the captain was wary of predicted afternoon winds and decided that a longer tender ride was much preferable to a ship drifting onto the rocks.) and we tendered in. It had been foggy on and off en route to Red Bay. When we left the tenders it was raining a bit. I was in long pants with a vest and rain coat. Jim was wearing a jacket but it being August was, of course, still wearing shorts.
This time we decided to take the Lighthouse Journey--a drive along the coast, through little seaside villages, past the Pinware River (a popular spot for salmon and river trout fishing) to Point Amour, sight of the Point Amour lighthouse, the tallest in Atlantic Canada. Once again we were in a school bus, driven by Colleen who drives the children to and from school in said bus. Also along was John, part-time guide, semi-retired chef at a hotel on the coast. As he described himself, an Essex boy from England who's lived in Labrador for 30+ years and was happy to share stories about living in such a remote place, Most incredible? There is virtually no crime. He said he never locks his front door and when he parked his car at the pier that morning he left the keys in it in case someone needed to move it. A native, Colleen knew every pothole on the roads (all two lane) and did a masterful job dodging the deep ones. We did ride a bit on a section of newly resurfaced road and passed the lads and equipment that were supposed to be working on some more roads. It's an hour and a half from Red Bay to the ferry terminal for the three hour ride to Corner Brook and the nearest traffic light!
Alas, the weather did not cooperate very much vis a vis the scenic coastal drive. We were in and out of fog, mostly in, the entire way. However, the lighthouse was quite impressive. It's automated now, but the exterior of the lighthouse and surrounding buildings (where the lighthouse keeper and family lived plus signal operators who received and sent telegraph messages overseas) have been restored to the 1850s look. One could climb up 128 steps to the top for a panoramic view but this one opted to stay behind and look through the buildings and little gift shop and enjoy a slice of Partridge Berry (Lingonberry) Bread baked by the host's wife. It was a bit rainy but it was a beautiful site. The wild flowers were in full bloom and a good sized iceberg had grounded itself right in front of the compound. Small chunks had broken off and come ashore. I asked the host with the bread if they ever took the ice to use and he said, "Oh, yes. It's very pure, thousands of years old and the tourists get a big kick out of cocktails poured over ancient ice." One of the guides there told us that when they had first arrived that morning to open everything up an active pod of humpback whales was also right out front putting on quite a show of breaching and fin slapping. One of our group claimed to have seen a whale while we were there but I can't confirm. The water was pretty choppy with white caps at that point making it very hard to spot them.
It was a good hour each way, but we enjoyed the experience. We wished we had had a bit longer to visit the whaling museum at the harbor and have fish and chips at the neighboring cafe but the last tender was at 2:30. Do not want to miss that! Riding back to the ship we bumped along, splashing through the seas but nothing too bad. The tenders land on the leeward side of the ship, which protects from the wind but not so much the up and down motion of the sea. Still when we arrived back the ship's engines were working to hold her in place.
We did learn later that the captain had stopped the tender service TO shore earlier when the winds had started to kick up. He wanted to get everyone who was already ashore back aboard rather than send more to shore and then have to get them all back, too. He constantly must make these game-time decisions for safety's sake. Needless to say, this is a boat load of intrepid travelers who take these changes in stride. It gives everyone a chance to tell about the ports they came close to visiting but not quite.
As is our custom we go to the Crow's Nest up top (on deck 9) and forward for a cocktail and then down to Deck 4 and the dining room for dinner at 8. Usually there would be a lot of people up in the Crow's Nest doing likewise and a lot of people eating 8-ish, but the staff outnumbers the customers at the bar at 7 and nearly the same in the dining room at 8. We asked our waiter what was up and he explained that on shorter cruises there is a balance between young and old passengers. The older ones like to eat earlier (at 5:30!) and the younger ones later. However, on the long trips, there are a lot more seniors than juniors if you will and they all want to eat early and then go to the early show (8 pm) in the showroom. This means the kitchen and dining room staffs are running in circles for the early birds. It also means that the showroom can't handle the demand for the early show soooooo they are going to shift the show times from 8 and 10 to 6 and 8. Old people don't like change so this should make for an interesting experiment! It also means that I will have to cut short my afternoon nap and be dressed and ready to roll at 6 instead of 7. (Refer back to Old people don't like change.) Jim, of course, is always ready an hour early so this means nothing to him.
As we approached Red Bay we spotted some icebergs making their way through the Labrador straights. These bergs break off glaciers in Greenland and then float south until the warmer water and air melt them. The straight is known as Iceberg Alley. You might have seen pictures earlier this summer of some monster bergs floating down past Nova Scotia. The captain told us that chunks break off of these bergs as they travel with the Labrador Current, so ships give them a respectful, wide berth. (Titanic, anyone?)
Now we're getting up and away from the big cities. Labrador: the size of France but a population of just 28,000 people. Population of Red Bay? 150. The ship anchored a ways off shore (we later learned that the captain was wary of predicted afternoon winds and decided that a longer tender ride was much preferable to a ship drifting onto the rocks.) and we tendered in. It had been foggy on and off en route to Red Bay. When we left the tenders it was raining a bit. I was in long pants with a vest and rain coat. Jim was wearing a jacket but it being August was, of course, still wearing shorts.
This time we decided to take the Lighthouse Journey--a drive along the coast, through little seaside villages, past the Pinware River (a popular spot for salmon and river trout fishing) to Point Amour, sight of the Point Amour lighthouse, the tallest in Atlantic Canada. Once again we were in a school bus, driven by Colleen who drives the children to and from school in said bus. Also along was John, part-time guide, semi-retired chef at a hotel on the coast. As he described himself, an Essex boy from England who's lived in Labrador for 30+ years and was happy to share stories about living in such a remote place, Most incredible? There is virtually no crime. He said he never locks his front door and when he parked his car at the pier that morning he left the keys in it in case someone needed to move it. A native, Colleen knew every pothole on the roads (all two lane) and did a masterful job dodging the deep ones. We did ride a bit on a section of newly resurfaced road and passed the lads and equipment that were supposed to be working on some more roads. It's an hour and a half from Red Bay to the ferry terminal for the three hour ride to Corner Brook and the nearest traffic light!
Alas, the weather did not cooperate very much vis a vis the scenic coastal drive. We were in and out of fog, mostly in, the entire way. However, the lighthouse was quite impressive. It's automated now, but the exterior of the lighthouse and surrounding buildings (where the lighthouse keeper and family lived plus signal operators who received and sent telegraph messages overseas) have been restored to the 1850s look. One could climb up 128 steps to the top for a panoramic view but this one opted to stay behind and look through the buildings and little gift shop and enjoy a slice of Partridge Berry (Lingonberry) Bread baked by the host's wife. It was a bit rainy but it was a beautiful site. The wild flowers were in full bloom and a good sized iceberg had grounded itself right in front of the compound. Small chunks had broken off and come ashore. I asked the host with the bread if they ever took the ice to use and he said, "Oh, yes. It's very pure, thousands of years old and the tourists get a big kick out of cocktails poured over ancient ice." One of the guides there told us that when they had first arrived that morning to open everything up an active pod of humpback whales was also right out front putting on quite a show of breaching and fin slapping. One of our group claimed to have seen a whale while we were there but I can't confirm. The water was pretty choppy with white caps at that point making it very hard to spot them.
It was a good hour each way, but we enjoyed the experience. We wished we had had a bit longer to visit the whaling museum at the harbor and have fish and chips at the neighboring cafe but the last tender was at 2:30. Do not want to miss that! Riding back to the ship we bumped along, splashing through the seas but nothing too bad. The tenders land on the leeward side of the ship, which protects from the wind but not so much the up and down motion of the sea. Still when we arrived back the ship's engines were working to hold her in place.
We did learn later that the captain had stopped the tender service TO shore earlier when the winds had started to kick up. He wanted to get everyone who was already ashore back aboard rather than send more to shore and then have to get them all back, too. He constantly must make these game-time decisions for safety's sake. Needless to say, this is a boat load of intrepid travelers who take these changes in stride. It gives everyone a chance to tell about the ports they came close to visiting but not quite.
As is our custom we go to the Crow's Nest up top (on deck 9) and forward for a cocktail and then down to Deck 4 and the dining room for dinner at 8. Usually there would be a lot of people up in the Crow's Nest doing likewise and a lot of people eating 8-ish, but the staff outnumbers the customers at the bar at 7 and nearly the same in the dining room at 8. We asked our waiter what was up and he explained that on shorter cruises there is a balance between young and old passengers. The older ones like to eat earlier (at 5:30!) and the younger ones later. However, on the long trips, there are a lot more seniors than juniors if you will and they all want to eat early and then go to the early show (8 pm) in the showroom. This means the kitchen and dining room staffs are running in circles for the early birds. It also means that the showroom can't handle the demand for the early show soooooo they are going to shift the show times from 8 and 10 to 6 and 8. Old people don't like change so this should make for an interesting experiment! It also means that I will have to cut short my afternoon nap and be dressed and ready to roll at 6 instead of 7. (Refer back to Old people don't like change.) Jim, of course, is always ready an hour early so this means nothing to him.
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