Hurtugruten, part duex

Trees, trees, and more trees: Many people on board have commented on the lack of vegetation, and there has been a general “greenish” tinge to many of the lower elevations, but nothing even resembling bushes. Now, however, trees and vegetation fill every nook and cranny of land, with only the rock outcroppings being devoid of life. Gardens and cultivated areas of land dot the land.

People continue to be very interesting. Had another really good conversation with the Swedish zoologist about genetics, DNA, and all the places he has found earthworms. I found out he is really one of the world’s authorities on the subject. And although it may seem otherwise, it’s really fascinating. We talked for over an hour. I didn’t know I had it in me. You can read about him at:

http://www.bioone.org/doi/abs/10.2988/0006-324X(2005)118%5B264:ANMSOT%5D2.0.CO%3B2

I finally went up to a couple we kept seeing because we always wound up sitting near each other and said: Hi, we keep running into each other.” They laughed because they were feeling the same. Turns out they’re a Dutch couple and have become our cruise mates. Johann and Maruska got together 18 years ago when she came to Rotterdam from Bratislava, Czechoslovakia (before it became Slovakia) for some employment retraining. She was put into a house for boarding, and to her surprise she lived with a single male. Well, they fell in love and have been married for the last 17 years. He became a father to her 12 year old daughter, while he she taught him how not to be shy and be afraid of heights. For the latter, he had to take a course for a year-and-a-half before he could fly to Bratislava for the wedding. She also taught him to like climbing in the mountains. But it was not an easy sell.

A couple of Brits have entertained us too. They’re about our age, and this morning Carol and I were at breakfast and the man sat down and said that he wasn’t feeling up to snuff yet. About 10 minutes later his wife came into the dining area and asked if he was feeling okay. He said: “Yes, why?” “Well, because you have on my glasses, that’s why.”

That cracked me up, because it’s the kind of comment I might get at home notwithstanding the fact that our glasses are really different. He said: “Oh, yeah, how about that. You know, these aren’t bad. But I did tell these people that I wasn’t quite myself.”





The old man and the sea

With the improved weather, we have a full panorama of snow covered mountains on both sides as we snake our way in and out of the island passages. The ship just passed a lonely fishing dory. It appeared to be about 12-14 foot long, with a lone fisherman in it, miles out to sea, surrounded by the glory of the coast. The water is calm today, but still….that’s a small boat so far away from land. There’s still a lot of snow on the mountains, even though they are not really that high. Just a general indication of how far north we really are.

We weave our way in and out of narrow passages and then into open water for several hours. When we’re close to land, people stop their cars or come out of their houses to wave at the ship as it passes. On one occasion today, we were greeted by a household spilling out of the house, all carrying and waving Norwegian flags.

We haven’t hit the fjord area yet, but there are still some in any area of the Norwegian coast. The trolls have their own fjord, which we will go through this afternoon. It’s called, naturally, Trollfjord. It’s only 100 yards wide and everybody is looking forward to it. Learned that all the rocks are merely trolls who got caught outside when the sun came up and were turned to stone. Either there were billions of trolls, or they weren’t very bright, ‘cause there are certainly a lot of rocks.

We pass all kinds of water craft. Even the most conservative estimate states that there are 650,000 boats, one for every seven Norwegians. Dorys, skiffs, sailboats, power boats, you pick it, it’s here, and the Norwegians are out on the water in force. I have a client in Stockton from Norway and he and his buddies from Norway head to Greece a couple of times a year to sail in the Mediterranean waters. I never totally understood it before, but now: “I get it, Trygve”

The worms are safe

One of our port stops was a particularly short one of 15 minutes. Carol opted not to go, so I went on down to the gangway and there was Christer with his bag containing his vials and trowel. I asked him if he wanted company and he said: “Sure.” So we hustled off the ship and I followed as he picked his spot to dig. Sure enough, there were worms. He picked them up and handed them to me and I kept the squiggly suckers from escaping back into the ground. We then hustled back to the ship just as they were getting ready to close the gangway.

The next morning I was up at 6 a.m. checking email and writing. We had a port stop at 7:00 and I thought it would be cool to go out and catch worms since I knew Christer had late dinner sitting and probably wouldn’t make it. However, my need for coffee won out and since they don’t open up the restaurant and the free coffee until 7:00, he lost out. I joked with him later telling him he lost out to my need for coffee. He laughed, and said that actually, he couldn’t take any more worms because he was out of vials and preserving alcohol.

I told him that I had lots of questions after our last conversation, and that I wanted to know about earthworms and continental drift. Well, his eyes lit up and said: “Yes, that is actually quite an interesting subject.” His wife, Ulla, just rolled here eyes, and had that: “Oh, dear, here we go again.” Look on her face.

We saw them later in the day on a different stop, and she had a great smile on her face. She had found a Peruvian stall at the market selling alpaca sweaters. She got one she particularly liked and was a happy camper.

So the worms of Central Norway are safe, Christer is no longer on the hunt.

Speaking of happy campers Carol found a reindeer hide which had been tanned and she fell in love with it, so we now have more to put into the extra bag that I suggested we bring on the trip. I’ve learned this from previous trips where we’ve had to buy bags to cart home the Irish linen and Scottish tweeds, amongst other things. We have all these extra bags at home. We could have a garage sale on soft-backed luggage.

Life as we know it

While we’ve been steadily increasing the size and complexity of the cities at which we’re stopping, it wasn’t until we reached Svolvaer that we really felt we were in a “Tourist” area. There, with the good weather being prevalent and the town being a jumping off area for travel into the popular Lofoten islands, things really started to jump. People were sitting outside in cafes, stalls lined the squares selling, yes, reindeer hides and Peruvian alpaca sweaters and goodies along with the requisite troll and Viking souvenirs, and there was the sense of joie de vivre in the air.

Lots of students on backpacking holidays, bicyclists of all ages with saddle bags loaded with supplies and clothing, boatloads of people all set to go somewhere. Groups of young guys carrying coolers heavily laden with who knows what going somewhere on the water for the day. It was absolutely exhilarating for me to see this. I remember so well the sense of excitement in the uncertainty of what may lay ahead. Uncertain of what, but secure in the knowledge that it was going to be wonderful and novel. It’s not all that different for us in our “Old age,” but we’re not backpacking or cycling. We’re the ones with the extra bucks and time to bail our way out of a situation as opposed to being forced to just deal with it. There’s something in me that wishes I could do it all over again.

Back to the gloom

The weather has turned nasty again. We stopped in Trondheim and had three hours to explore, after breakfast we went out and walked around town, the largest we’ve found so far. We trudged around town in the drizzle and found the Nidaros cathedral. Looked cool, but they wanted $10 to go inside. Reminded me of the Dr. Hook song where he just wants to go in to talk with God, hopes he’s not bothering anybody. We decided against it, and instead, like always, found a really cool alternative the Bo church with its old wooden beams and friendly people inside who welcomed us warmly in the true Norwegian style. Statures of Thomas Angell dot the plaza, and his house looked tres cool, but couldn’t google or wikipedia him, since those kind of searches here go through Norwegian computer servers and answers come back in Norwegian. Lots of things to learn about, even after our return home.

Heading back south the weather again turned glorious and our vision was unfettered by the obstructive fog and clouds. I never got tired of just sitting and watching the coastline, for as soon as you would turn away, the ship would pass a little inlet where there was a picturesque vision which would just as quickly disappear.

The rocky coast line would have patches of greenery where a cluster of houses, sometimes 10, sometimes 20 or more houses would appear with a road winding out the back of the cluster and into the unknown. Certainly to join another road which came from other clusters which formed a bigger road, etc. Invariably, these pods of houses had patches of farmland and fields where people had carved out a life for themselves away from the hustle and bustle of city life. And if that wasn’t isolated enough for them, there was always a single house built maybe a half a mile from the “community.” Obviously, someone who couldn’t stand the hustle and bustle of urban sprawl, Norwegian style. Talk about the suburbs, Norwegians give it a new meaning.

The closer we got to Bergen, the more these little villages appeared. They became not only more prevalent but with greater size. But there always seemed to be someone who built his house away from the main group of houses and who would be off to the side with no one near him. I can hear George, my neighbor in Clements, laughing and saying: “That would be you, Owens.”

After six days we docked in Bergen. We said our goodbyes to Christer, his mom and Ulla his wife.

Maruska and Johann found us to give us great, warm hugs and hoped that we’d meet again. Johann later came up to find me, I was watching Tour de France on the TV, and gave me the ultimate compliment. He Said: “When I first saw you I thought you were just another typical American, but I found out you weren’t.” I couldn’t ask for anything nicer to be said about me when I’m traveling.

So now we’re in Bergen, and as the kids would say when they’re texting each other, “OMG”. What a change, but that’s another story, to come later.

Carol and Jim