Day 6 Monday Trondheim

We arrive in Trondheim about 7.00am. This was Norway’s first capital and is its third largest city. It was founded in 997 by King Olaf Haraldson who was later sanctified. It was an ideal situation for a capital and trading station, as it is equidistant between the north and south of the country but also accessible to Sweden and Britain. The settlement was initially named Nidaros but became Trondheim during the four hundred years of Danish occupation. After independence, in 1814, the inhabitants were given the choice of which name they wanted to adopt and Trondheim narrowly won, on the understanding that signage would be in Norwegian and not Danish. Much of Trondheim was rebuilt after a fire in 1842 and tiled roofs replaced turf and planks. Trondheim was fortunate to escape World War 2 bombing.

More coffee machine struggles at breakfast and I indulge in my first cooked breakfast of the cruise. A slightly later start for us today but at 10.30am, we join Jonathan in group 4A. Jonathan is one of 45,000 students at Trondheim university, Norway’s largest, studying pure maths. He moved to Norway from the Congo some years ago. One of the marine conservationists on board is accompanying our tour as the representative of Ambassador. It turns out that she was born in Croydon, as was I.

We are guided around Trondheim on a two hour walk and learn of its history. I was concerned that this might be chilly, so have donned my thermal leggings and fluffy boots. All I can say is that it is a good job I didn’t opt for the thermal top and thick trousers as well. I am saving those for when we get above the arctic circle. For the first part of our walk, the sun was shining and I was slowly melting. At no point did I feel the need for my hat or gloves.

As parts of Norway are very inaccessible, several dialects are spoken. Now there are two main languages and ‘New Norwegian’ was developed after research into the various dialects. We pass the Stiftsgården royal residence, built in the 1770s in a baroque style. Although this is not designated as a palace, it does contain a throne room, as, traditionally, coronations take place in Nidaros Cathedral in Trondheim, after which the new monarch has to sit on a throne. With 140 rooms, it is Europe’s largest wooden royal residence. At the end of Danish occupation, Norway had no surviving royal family, so Denmark gave them their ‘spare’ who became king.

Our walk takes us along Munkegata, which leads to Munkholmen Island, the site of a former monastery that became a prison after the Reformation. The road was a direct route from the island to the cathedral. I am fascinated by the elaborate manhole covers. There is a statue of Olaf Tryggvason, the city’s founder, in the large market square; this is actually a sundial. There are spectacular carvings on the outside of Nidaros Cathedral, which was begun in 1070 and was built over King Olaf’s grave. It became a place of pilgrimage. Our arrival coincides with the lengthy chiming for midday, which holds up Jonathan’s spiel somewhat. Some of the cathedral’s builders were British and French, which accounts for the cathedral’s style. The building was deliberately never completed as legend says that the world will end when it is finished.

We cross the Red Bridge, known as the ‘portal of happiness’. You are supposed to kiss in the centre to ensure a lengthy relationship; we neglect to do this. We also see the world’s only bicycle elevator, designed to take bicycles up a very steep hill, with the rider still in the saddle; this is only operational in summer.

We the board an open, wooden boat, Freya, built in 1994 and piloted by Siri, for a trip along the River Nidelva, passing the colourful wharves, some of which date from the eighteenth century. These are now mostly luxury apartments or restaurants and survived the fire by virtue of being on the far side of the river, in an area known as Bakklandet. There are open spaces between the wharves where non-citizens were allowed to trade. The cruise ends at Ravnkloa, which is the site of an historic fish market, unfortunately there is no sign of this now.

We arrive back onboard in time for a lateish lunch and I was looking forward to another siesta. It was not to be. As I am still in port, I have email access on my phone. I am being invited to apply for an additional role in connection with the job that we must not mention. The closing date is before I return home. This means that I have to make the application, including a 500 word personal statement, using my phone. I have fat fingers and avoid typing on my phone if I can, so this is a nightmare. Added pressure is that the ship has sailed and unless I can finish this before we exit the fjord, I will lose signal and have to start again. There is no way to save a half-started application. I find this out the hard way and have already had three false starts, necessitating repeatedly answering questions about nationality, sexuality and disability. By the time I’ve composed the statement on my laptop and laboriously and one fingeredly copied it into my phone, I feel in need of a stiff gin; just a shame that I almost never drink.

I am not very inspired by the evening meal options and have ham and chips, while Chris has roast pork. We have decided to try out some evening entertainment for once. This takes place in the Purple Turtle bar, which I keep referring to as the Purple Penguin or the Purple Parrot. None of those creatures are purple anyway. First is a trivia quiz. We come joint second with 12/15, which they like to call 120/150 for some reason. I was helped by two hints from the people sharing our table and the fact that a third of the quiz was on the specialist subject of board games. One question was where did chess originate? Thanks to Edward, I am able to put India, rather than China, which is what most people have said. My failures were the name of the actor who played Ken in the Barbie movies, nope, no clue and the most popular Dickens book. I, along with most people, put A Christmas Carol but it was A Tale of Two Cities.

Next, was what was billed as a murder mystery and in the spirit of throwing myself into things, I volunteered to be a suspect. This basically meant trying to remember what various witnesses had said, until I was voted out by the murderer. This was all very much end of the pier, slapstick type stuff and although the young actors did their best, it wasn’t really our thing, especially as there was a long gap between the quiz and the murder and we’d probably both rather have been asleep. I suspect this may be our last attempt at an evening activity.