Friday, August 25, 2017
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.
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