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.

Day 5 Åndalsnes, Romsdalsfjord

We are travelling up Romsdalsfjord as we wake up and soon, we anchor at Åndalsnes, surrounded by mountains. In April 1940, British troops landed here and 160 buildings were destroyed during the bombing raids. Twenty-six tons of Norwegian gold were shipped out of Oslo, via Åndalsnes, during the war, to be stored in Britain and then North America. Åndalsnes was the railway terminus. Now, the significant industry is furniture and textiles.

Our tour group today is group one, with Roxanne from Michigan. While we are waiting to depart, we watch the ship’s windows being cleaned; this looks like a precarious process. We board the coach near the unusual-shaped building that houses the climbing wall museum. We drive alongside the Rauma river, noted for salmon, with towering mountains on either side. The river is still frozen in places. Mount Romsdalshorn is on our left and the Trolltindane peaks are on our right; both are over 5000 feet high. The HEP infrastructure can be seen. We stop at Slettafossen waterfall, perhaps less impressive than it might be, as it is frozen. I intended to change my shoes from my softer trainers to my more substantial trainers before leaving the ship but I have neglected to do this. It is eight degrees and a little icy underfoot but fortunately we don’t have to walk far today. Silver birch, Scot’s Pine and golden coloured grass are features of the landscape. The tree line stops at 600 metres. The area is renowned for its strawberries and farming. I drag the word transhumance from the O level geography depths of my mind. Goats in particularly are kept for their milk and cheese making.  

Having passed the Trollveggen (Troll Wall), a vertical, overhanging rock face over 3000 foot high, on the way out, we pause here for a photo stop on the way back. The legend is that the king of the trolls held a wedding party for his daughter on the top of the cliffs and so distracted were they with dancing that the dawn came up and they turned to stone, creating the peaks on the top of the cliffs. Here, we are in the Reinheimen National Park, which was created in 2006 to protect the biological diversity that is found in the area; it is the third largest national park in Norway. The name means home of the reindeer but we don’t see any. The reindeer were vital to the hunter gatherers who first settled here after the end of the last ice age, about 8000-9000 years ago.

Photographs taken, we cross the Sogge Bridge into the Isterdal Valley, viewing the King, Queen and Bishop peaks. We were supposed to view the Trollstigen (Trolls’ Path), a winding road with eleven narrow, hairpin bends carved into the mountainside. This feat of engineering won awards when it was constructed in 1901. Unfortunately, the road has been blocked by a fall of snow, so we can’t see this and the coach driver has to reverse more than a mile back up a single-track road before he is able to turn. We stop at the Trollstigen holiday complex, with its carved wooden trolls.

The area is noted for its stave churches, constructed from wood in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, often without the use of nails and incorporating wooden staves but these are as elusive as the reindeer. Returning to the port, we have a quick look round but almost everything is shut as it is Sunday. We see the iconic Golden Train and a chapel that is an old railway carriage. Inside, the crucifix is fashioned from pieces of track and the altar is made from sleepers. The altarpiece is symbolic; a tear of blood represents sacrifice and the lifegiving force, the fountainhead of the river of life. Continuing the eating too much theme, I have something that passes for a meal at lunchtime, a rather odd vegetable patty and chips, whilst my companion has roast beef. I also have a kiwi cheesecake that I am counting as one of my five a day. The decaff coffee machine is on the blink; this was also an issue yesterday but it seems to give up its hissy fit after a while. We are thankful that we opted for a cabin with a balcony; we’ve never had so much as a window on previous cruises, mainly because we were busy on sea days and spent very little time in our cabin. This time, the balcony has definitely been worth the additional money. It is even sunny and warm enough for Chris to sit out there for a short while. I confess to having a siesta in the afternoon, followed by beef bourginon for an evening meal, as well as more wrestling with the coffee machine. This time, Chris has bream. 

Just as a warning to those who are following along, there were seventeen days to this holiday and you may need to hold on to your seats,

Day 4 Ålesund

We wake up in time to see us drifting into the first port, which is Ålesund. Today, we are part of group three and our designated trip takes us through Ålesund, via a series of tunnels and bridges, to the islands of Giske and Godǿy. To be honest, I am not the world’s greatest fan of tunnels and some of these are quite long but I manage. We learn that blasting tunnels proved to be cheaper than building bridges. The tunnels are seventy-four metres below the level of the fjord. When they were first built in the 1990s, tolls were payable on both bridges and tunnels but once the construction costs were paid for, they became free. Taxes are at twenty-three percent, half of which goes to central government and half is local taxes, the equivalent of council tax. Good use was made of the excess granite from creating the tunnels, including as the basis for reclaimed land.

Our guide is Rudolph, of German and South African extraction and he asks us not to mention reindeer.  Ålesund is renowned for its Art Nouveau architecture, as much of the town was rebuilt after a serious fire in 1904, which fortunately resulted in only one casualty. One house, known as ‘the miracle house’ did not burn. Kaiser Wilhelm frequently holidayed here, so sent aid after the fire. It was stipulated that rebuilding must not be of wood but there was a lack of knowledge about building with alternatives. Expertise came from other European nations, notably France, hence the adoption of the Baroque, Art Nouveau style. Carvings of fish and dragons are a testament to old Norse heritage.

Rudolph imparts various nuggets of information about Norway. The population is about 5·8 million, 43,000 of whom live on the seven islands that make up Ålesund. It is Norway’s largest fishing harbour, with fifty percent of Norwegian salt cod exports leaving from here. Salmon is also exported, mostly to Japan. You are only able to buy up to 4·5 proof beer and cider in Norwegian supermarkets; anything stronger has to come from the equivalent of an off licence and these are government owned. There is also no ‘to the door’ postal delivery; letters are collected from boxes at the end of the street and parcels from the post office. Displaying flags is common in Norway but they have to be taken down by 9pm. There is no charge for water, only for waste water, when tanks are emptied. With the benefit of hydro-electric power, much of Norway’s power and transport is electric. The country was relatively poor until the discovery of North Sea oil and gas in the 1970s. Brown cheese is popular; it is made from goat and cow milk and is caramelised, hence the colour. Here, silage is wrapped in white plastic, giving the bales the nickname Trolls’ marshmallows, or alternatively, tractor eggs.

Giske, pronounced Yishker, is known as the ‘Saga Island’ and is famous for being the birthplace of the Viking Chieftain, Rollo, who was given Normandy by Charles the Simple of France in the hope that he would protect France from incursions by other Northmen. Rollo is potentially an originator of the Braund family. Giske is very flat, with just one hill at twenty-five metres above sea level. We arrive at Giske Church, which was built about 1130. It is Norway’s only marble church. Some of the marble is local, some came from Italy. It was probably ballast when ships returned from selling fish. The marble is covered in plaster to protect it from the salt air.

Enid is waiting to tell us about the impressive wooden carvings inside the church. By the eighteenth century, the church had fallen into disrepair and restoration began in 1756. A twenty-two-year-old man carved the altarpiece depicting scenes from the crucifixion to the ascension. The same carver, Jacob, produced the pulpit in the 1790s and both these were painted in 1801, using paint mixed by ‘Altarpieces Jacob’, who also carved altars elsewhere. They were later over painted in white, as the colours were thought to be a distraction but in the 1930s, the colours were redone, using Jacob’s recipes. There is also an altar cloth that dates from 1688 but this is too fragile to display. Outside, there is one of only six of the country’s protected gravestones, thought to belong to the church’s builder. Giske was a place of pilgrimage and crosses on the outside wall are believed to have been carved by fourteenth century pilgrims. The church has been Lutheran since the Reformation in 1536. Graveyards can’t be reused in Norway but fortunately there is space to spread. Rudolph is of the opinion that the idea of Viking boat funerals is a myth.

We see a few of the historic, turf-roofed houses. Next, a brief sighting of some reindeer as we drive to the island of Godøy and the small fishing village of Alnes, site of the twenty-two-metre-high lighthouse, built in 1937. Then it was home via the island of Heissa. We go back to the ship for lunch and then walk round the town by ourselves, managing to acquire some sew on badges for my collection. There are several carved, plaster or wooden trolls on street corners.

Having sampled afternoon tea yesterday, it seemed rude not to do so again. My companion has what is billed as a cream tea, although the clotted cream isn’t quite what he is used to. Definitely more by luck than as a result of any informed choice, we have picked what for us seems to be an ideal cabin up the blunt end of deck 10, two floor down from the casual dining and three floors up from the main lecture hall. Despite no longer having stairs at home, three floors worth of stairs seems doable and helps to counteract the effects of the amount we seem to be eating. It is four floors down to the craft room, that’s when I decide that I prefer to take the lift.

Day 2 Thursday At Sea

For some reason, I didn’t sleep particularly well but it is lovely to watch the sunrise over the North Sea, at what was either 5.30am or 6.30am, depending whether or not one had already adjusted their watches. We are sailing with the Netherlands on our right, although the coast is too far away to be seen but we spot the occasional oil rig. There is just the slight sensation of movement, so perhaps the predicted ‘lively’ weather is still to come. The phone isn’t working but maybe I need to be on land, so we shall see.

I sample an odd looking combination of crushed biscuits, very sweet yoghurt and fruit for breakfast; I probably won’t be sampling it again. Here the butter is officially rock hard. We go to a presentation about the procedure for excursions. Apparently, you are not allowed to be early if your assembly point is on shore; I am going to struggle with that. Next, a video about our first port, Alesund; I will impart what I learned when I get to that day. Two women behind us are finding plenty to moan about.

Then a lecture from Martin Lunn aka the rambling astronomer, formerly of Yorkshire Museum, entitled The Sun and the Northern Lights. As with all my imparting of ‘facts’ that I learn along  the way, I take no responsibility for any errors in the information that I pass on. The phenomenon known as the Northern Lights was named by Galileo; Aurora being the goddess of the dawn and Borealis the wind of the north. The Chinese were recording the Northern Lights in 997-957 BCE. The Vikings thought they were the sun reflecting on the shields of the Valkyries. The different colours relate to different heights and different gases. It is caused by flares from sunspots. The amount of activity goes in cycles, peaking every eleven years; we are now experiencing a peak. In 1607, Kepler was drawing pictures of sunspots. When there are few sunspots, the temperature drops, for example during the period known as the little ice age in the second half of the seventeenth century. Solar wind also increases the likelihood of the Northern Lights, as does the equinox, which occurs whilst we are away. It does of course have to not be cloudy.

By the afternoon, it is a force 8 gale, with wind howling past our balcony door and a fair amount of rolling, hopefully, better weather is on its way. Another video tells us what to expect at Åndalsnes, on day five.

After lunch, during which I bemoan the lack of cookies, we listen to retired Detective Chief Inspector Rod Repton recounting anecdotes of his career. Next, we arrive early for a talk about whales and dolphins, not early enough it seems, as almost all the seats are taken. Some people are sitting on the floor, including those whose mobility suggests that it may be difficult for them to ever get up again. The talk is given by Alexandra Brown, an ocean conservationist from the charity Orca. There are over ninety species of cetaceans (whales, dolphins and porpoise), the largest being the blue whale, which can be thirty-three metres long. These can be divided into two types, those with teeth and those without. The ‘blows’ that are visible are not water but an expellation of air.

The possibilities of the cabin television are limited. We enjoy watching the ship’s progress and the view from the bridge. One channel is non-stop BBC news, which, especially at the moment, I would like to avoid, although my travelling companion would happily watch continually. I have to keep dissuading him from opting for that channel. There is a channel that shows the videos we’ve already seen and something called BBC Earth which is watchable but one can have too much of unremitting David Attenborough.

Our evening meal choices are roast lamb and salmon, not together I hasten to add. My travelling companion is setting out to consume his body weight in custard during the trip. The swell increases with the evening, sending glasses sliding off tables.

Day 3 Friday At Sea

The day dawns with cloud and rain, although it is considerably calmer.  There is a slight struggle with the shower, which today seems to vary between incredibly hot and boiling. I do like my showers hot but I’d like to have some skin left. I join Pam in the craft room to make an AB necklace, which is apparently an Aurora Borealis necklace and Pam is annoyed that it hasn’t been billed as such. Pam is aided by her ’glamorous’ assistant, Paul.  There are about a dozen participants. One lady on my table is from Devon and has an identical notebook to mine, another is the sister of someone I’ve come across in the family history network. We are supplied with lengths of ‘tiger tail’ (wire) and crystal roundels (oval beads) to make a choker-style necklace and Pam compliments me on my crafting prowess. We pay a nominal sum for the materials. This is my fourth cruise and this is the first time I’ve ever charged anything to a cruise card. The day brightens considerably and we are now off the south Norwegian coast, although still too far away to see it.

I’ve missed the video about Trondheim in order to join Pam but I’ve learned that, if you are patient, these appear on channel 6 on the cabin TV, so have resolved to catch up there. I do listen to the one on Tromsǿ. By staying put after this, I am able to reserve seats for the showing of the film Hamnet, which is understandably popular. A man near the front is trying to attract the attention of his other half, to direct her to the seat he is saving for her. He does this by standing up and clapping loudly; the poor woman must be mortified. To be honest, despite its many awards and nominations, I am a bit underwhelmed with Hamnet. I was aware of the story and had read the book, so I knew that it wasn’t going to be sweetness and light but there was a great deal of angst-ridden screaming. There was also quite a bit of arty, mood lighting, or rather lack of lighting, authentic for the period but a bit overdone I felt. What really jarred were anachronisms such as the use of dialogue like ‘okay’ and a shot of a very modern looking graveyard, complete with gravestones that would be unusual until the eighteenth century at the earliest. Although the cast looked realistically grubby, I wasn’t convinced by some of the costumes; I am sure I spied a zip fly for example. The heroine did seem to wear the same dress for fifteen years, probably not likely for someone of their social standing. I did warm to it a bit more with the sections from Hamlet but overall, I’d say overrated.

Then up to Borough Market for what is billed as ‘tea’ but for me was lunch, as I’d been seat-keeping over lunch. A very acceptable egg mayonnaise roll and some pound cake. Back in the cabin, we managed to catch the Trondheim video we’d missed early. Evening meal today is spaghetti for me and plaice and mash for my travelling companion. Inevitably, we are eating far too much.

It transpires that one of us now has a suitcase with only one of two working wheels. I’d like to put it on record that that isn’t me. We are debating the logistics of how we might get a one wheeled suitcase home.