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.
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