Fjordland

Today we're getting even more familiar, in the morning we enter the Eidfjord until we reach Ulvik, a small village with surprisingly big hotels, which is due to the fact that some companies simply love to hold their conferences in these remote places. Who wouldn't…
The Hotel Manager is also the ship's agent, and so we are welcomed by two offices in one person on the jetty which they just put in the water yesterday, only for us…

So, walking and marvelling and taking pictures is the best you can do to spend a relaxing morning, and also practising getting in and out of the Polar Cirkel boats. Well, the Fjord was calm like a mirror - ideal training conditions!



Later on we proceed deeper and deeper into the serrated coastline, the surrounding walls get higher and higher, until we make fast in Eidfjord, a peaceful village at the foot of the Hardangervidda. Hikers paradise greets us with traditional music, presented by several generations of singers and musicians-to-be. Well, there is certainly not enough time for an extended mountain adventure, but the brisker walkers manage to do the little roundtrip to the lake, just to get a taste of it and maybe to come back another time.

 

A ship comes home...

In the morning we can detect some commotion within the Norwegian crew. The reason is obvious: After months and months abroad, after a whole last summer in Greenland and Canada, after travelling down south in October, after a long and exiting season in the rough waters of Antarctica, a peaceful crossing back to the north from Buenos Aires, and finally after Lisbon, La Coruña, Bordeaux, Honfleur and Dover, MS FRAM at last reaches the shores of Norway. It is as if we are preparing a wonderful party, all the officers are scheduling meetings with their families, friends, the coastline is a well-known sight, for many since their childhood, suddenly we hear stories, anecdotes and episodes from villages that are just around the corner. Home! The good mood is contageous, everybody walks around with a big smile.
But this day is not only a remarkable day for the Norwegians, the entrance into the Stavanger Fjord is one of beauty and stark contrasts. Huge drilling rigs indicate that we are approaching the hotspot of Norwegian (and international) oil production, sitting right next to pittoresque tiny white cabins in forest clearings that look almost a little forlorn in the shadow of their gargantuan neighbours.

Wonderful smooth rocks emerge from the water, reminding every skipper and captain: This is Norway, you'll better know what you're doing. Our captain surely does, and a while later we reach Stavanger, fourth largest city in Norway. We go to pier smack in the city center, the smallish houses looking really small compared to our actually not-so-big ship. It's all a matter of scale.

Those who are not going on the after-lunch sunshine trip into the narrow and scenic Lysefjord with it's high cascading waterfalls also take advantage of the splendid weather for a gentle stroll through peaceful Stavanger, visit the old cathedral or the high-tech Petroleum museum, or the tin can museum in the old town that reminds of the times near the end of the 19th century, when the conservation of sardines in cans led to unexpected and enormous riches in the area.
Later on it's time for fare-well to friends and family and we steer into a magic sunset. Now we will stay a while on the coast of Norway FRAM - the feeling of being home will last.

'Scuse me, got the time?

Travelling in Europe has its peculiarities, especially when it comes to the seam of British and French territories; not only that you encounter two languages on the same island plus a couple of nearly extinct dialects, not only that even the Queen of England is not allowed to land by helicopter when she wants to pay a visit (she has to take the boat, like everyone else) - no, also time itself seems a little bit confused: We have to change our watches and clocks four times in four days…

Bordeaux to Sark: one hour back; Guernsey to Honfleur: one hour forward; Dover: back again, after Dover: "back" to forward. Well, it's not too much trouble for the body, but have you got any idea how many clocks are ticking on a medium-sized vessel like FRAM? Computers, networks, navigation systems, wake-up calls, daily programs, mealtimes and of course the Master Clock - all of this has to be adjusted or at least observed.

Be it as it may, in the morning at 9:30 (or 10:30?) we start with the first lectures on Photography, followed at 11:00 (or 12?) by History and Geology. The sea is flat calm, this adds to the slow yet very happy mood on board. Not much more on your mind but lunch (somewhat around 12 or 1pm), afternoon lectures, reading, relaxing out on deck, watching the oil rigs drift by. In the evening a very special event. When the crew sings, we normally expect Edgar, the bartender, or Jonivert, the galley man. But tonight it's the Captain himself, singing a duet with our nurse Yanitza. At the end of a lazy day Bjørn, the piano man, entertains everybody with his enormous repertoire until midnight. Eleven o'clock, that is...

Over and Dover again

A long time ago, the sea level was nearly 200 meters higher than today. That's right, a really long time, about 75 million years before now. Maybe this is not the first thought that comes to the mind if you think about Dover, but when you stand on the front deck in the first morning light, teacup in one hand, camera in the other, the chalk coast gleaming like white paint - well then you have time to ponder these things.

The famous cliffs grow bigger and bigger, as a tiny boat goes alongside to bring the harbour pilot on board. The cruise terminal awaits us, while on FRAM everybody is extra busy; passports have to be ready for immigration, transfers have to be arranged, luggage has to be stored away - it's the end of the trip! This week really went past in a jiffy, so many places, so many countries. So it's time to say good-bye and to say hello at the same time, because our first new guests are already in town, waiting to be allowed to board. That's how it goes: An end is a beginning, every good-bye is a welcome in disguise.

Some of us are well away from the changeover activities, instead they take a ride to Canterbury, arena for Chaucer's classic Canterbury tales and of course the site of the most famous Cathedral, domicile of the leader of the Church of England. After an extensive church visit and a stroll through the busy town, they return to Dovers passenger terminal and join the new group just in time to take part in the welcome and the mandatory drill. So, we are good to go north, after having visited so many locations that have experienced a Viking influence we are heading for a completely different part of Europe - the actual land of the Vikings: Norway.

Monet and Calvados

Honfleur! Nearly as flowery as the name (which rather refers to rivers than to flowers, but OK, let's not be picky…) is the idea of being in the estuary of the Seine river. That means, a little further down the road (or up the stream) is Paris! But opposed to the splendor of France's capital, the harbour area of this little village  in the Calvados district is sporting the smallest houses imaginable. People seem to have walked in and out sideways! Certainly this was before the sweet shops had opened that are numerous in the sweet, cosy little port. The times of the old Normandy drift through the narrow alleys, the fortifications witness the hundred year's war, the old wooden church tells seafarer tales. If they only banned the cars from this magnificent place, it would be a world class walk-through history lesson! But already in April it is pretty crowded, which is of course also due to the magnificent weather.

In the meantime, a bus with eager art lovers is making its way towards Giverny, a little community on the  banks of the Seine river which never would be known by many if it weren't for the unforgettable works of Claude Monet, the grandseigneur of impressionism. And here it is, the probably most famous little garden bridge in the world, leading across the waterlily pond, portrayed oh so often by Monet. Hard to tell what touches you more, seeing this places through the painters eyes or step inside the Cathedral of Rouen, a immensely impressive, building that reaches as far back as the 12th century. It has always been a holy place, already featuring a church in the 4th century in the same location. And it feels.

Senses wide open, everybody returns to Honfleur, only to enjoy the old spirit of this place even more.

After sunset we cast the lines and leave beautiful France. Au revoir!

Island hopping

Is it the size that defines an island? This question springs to mind when you look at some of the inhabited rocks in the British Channel. They are tiny, really tiny, but today they present themselves like emerald green jewels on  blue velvet. In the morning we approach Sark, the car-free, tax-free, carefree oasis, one of the places with rather complicated legislation and very, very friendly people. And today we have the rare privilege to use our Polar Cirkel Boats. 

Now, that’s more like it! After a short while everybody has entered the small, fortress-like harbour and marvels at the steep cliffs. The very old geological history of the Channel Islands has left the rocks and slopes in quite a chaos, but still pretty to look at.

With a tractor we get shuttled up the hill and since cars are strictly forbidden here you can hop on one of the picturesque horse carriages or walk the unpaved roads on foot. Nobody can get lost easily, every path inevitably ends on a street you recognize. After a couple of hours spent in the sun, maybe a coffee in the beautiful garden of the Seigneurie, or a walk along the steep, ocean-swept coast, we make our way back to our vessel. But only for lunch, as we drop anchor again only half an hour later. This time it is undoubtedly an island, there are buses, cars, hotels, supermarkets: Guernsey, the „capital“ of the region, invites us. And again, we „have“ to ride the Polar Cirkel boats, for FRAM cannot go to pier here.

Heading for country N° 4

The good memories of Bordeaux linger on, so nobody is actually keen on more action this morning. Lectures are well attended, as the weather decided not to compete too much today. However, in the afternoon everyone gets the chance to learn how FRAM is actually controlled. Many sign up for the bridge tour, guided by the Master and Commander himself, Captain Arnvid Hansen.

Nobody had expected an old wooden steering wheel and the navigation officer jumping around with a sextant, trying to get a good shot of the sun. But the top-of-the-line equipment on our vessel baffles even the experienced.

FRAM has got three independent radar systems and a permanently updated electronic navigational chart computer, the layers of which can be directly added to the radar image. By doing so, the bridge has maximum control over the current position of FRAM and the whereabouts of all possible obstacles, other ships included.

Once entered in the navigation computer, the intended itinerary will be followed automatically, while the main information screen provides the navigator with all necessary data, like windspeed and -direction, distance to the next waypoint, speed over ground, active engines, course, drift, estimated time of arrival. So it is nearly impossible to get off course. Of course not...

All safety systems are also routed via the bridge controls: All splash doors, watertight doors, fire and smoke sensors – everything can be monitored and controlled from up there. This is truly the center of power.

And if you happen to look for the steering – well, you will come across the most impressive, sophisticated and awe-inspiring instrument you can imagine – a little joystick, pinkie-sized and solitarily sticking out of the huge instrument panels. So the times of helmsmen with forearms like Popeye are apparently over.

But of course, every system has ist backup and a backup’s backup. And if nothing helps anymore, the cunning navigator can still resort to the most reliable means of navigation: Paper chart and compass, logbook, sextant, and steering wheel. They are there, they are still in use and everybody on the bridge is capable to apply them. That’s seafarers for you – never loose the precious tradition!

Another tradition is held high in the evening: The MV FRAM crewshow, performed since the vessel was put into service, a constant source of fun. Hard to tell who enjoys it more, guests or crew, probably the latter. And that’s a good thing.

As it gets dark, more and more lights of other vessels are to be seen, unmistakable sign that we are approaching „La Manche“, the British Channel. So, England it is!

Taking FRAM downtown...

Looking out of FRAM’s windows reveals a very unusual sight: We are actually in the heart of a city... Nice old buildings are lined up, people with kids and dogs and bicycles are strolling, jogging, playing, right under our noses! Now that is some change to icebergs and rough seas... Of course everyone ashore is wondering what that big red and white thing is doing at the pier, but our attraction increases considerably when we open the hull to get a very unique object out in the open: The barrel, containing our famous FRAM cognac. Now this is something else, the content of this cask had been brewed with waters from both poles and then shipped on board across the Arctic and Antarctic circle, plus – inevitably – the equator, before it deserved to be called the one and only Adventure XO Cognac there is. Apparently the press cought wind of this maneuver and our presence, we had a TV team from „France III“, a radio journalist from „Radio France“ and a local newspaper fellow on board right upon arrival, full of questions about the cognac (hardly any about the vessel - that's France for you...). So, unloading the barrel was kind of a marketing stunt, followed by many.

The weather was trying to make us believe it’s already mid-June - mild breezes, blossoming trees, green grass, the old houses being sharply silhouetted against a clear blue sky,  just right to start with the excursions. The City Tour takes us to all the „musts“ of the more than 2000 years old Bordeaux, a breathtakingly beautiful city indeed.

After lunch we take the opportunity to take a ride into the source of  the most famous wine in the world. Imagine an endless landscape of vineyards, dotted here and there with the most luxurious and pretty old castles possible. There are numerous appellations, most of them ranking very high in the esteem of wine conoisseurs, every bit of soil being different, every grape attended to with utmost care knowledge. It is a world of ist own, and we get to see it from within, since after a while we stop at Chateau Giscours where the most excellent Margaux is produced and stored in hand-crafted oak barrels, a red wine that is world famous. After an extensive guided tour to the production line, everybody can sample the good stuff in a very nice ambience. And of course buy it, too...

Finally it is time to go back, and after nightfall FRAM blows its magnificent horn. People on the pier are waving us good-bye, as we disappear into the starlit night.

Biscaya Biscuits

The upcoming sea day dreaded by many due to the rough experiences of the previous days, we headed towards the Bay of Biscay during the night. This stretch of ocean has a reputation for being nasty sometimes, so everybody was surprised and relieved when we woke up to a milky yet blueish sky and comparably mild seas. And the weather kept getting better and better, finally it left people with two options: Being awake while attending the numerous lectures downstairs, or falling asleep in the deckchairs that were spread out at lofty 18 meters above the sea. Some mixed it up and fell asleep in the lectures...well, everything goes if you’re on holiday, right?

Since it is considerably more difficult to keep people busy and happy on a sea day than on a port day, Karin and Else-Kristine come up with a simple, but effective plan: Catch them with delicacies. And so in the afternoon everybody, regardless on which deck, lifts their head, sniffing. Ouuuh, this is a nice smell! Edgar the Wafflemaker, is performing his art in the observation lounge, luring people in droves to the source of that olfactory number one treat. Everybody is relishing and quiet, so the splendid music of Bjørn, the ships pianist, remains undisturbed. What a nice afternoon!

After nightfall, the officials on board are to be seen from a completely different angle – during the fashion show: Officers, crew and staff alike promenade the catwalk in the board shop’s garments, be it nice Norwegian sweaters or, well, unique swimsuits. The subsequent „Easter bonnet competition“ was supposed to have three categories: prettiest hat, most creative hat, most embarassing one. Since these were two categories more than participants, the bronze, silver and gold medal ended up in the hands of one single passenger.

So, now we are cruising through the night to wake up in Bordeaux!

The House of God and a Hell of a Ride...

It seems as if the sea around the proud seafarer nation of Portugal, wants to remain in the memory of the two others, Norway and England, that travel with us in great numbers. A remarkable swell shakes us over night on our way to Spain. So everybody is a little tired in the morning when we enter the small port of Vila Garcia in the country’s north to drop off the excursion group that will be heading towards the famous destination of religious pilgrimage, Santiago de Compostela.

Again, buses are there right on time to pick everyone up and start the two-hour ride across the Castilian countryside to arrive finally at Santiago de Compostela to a reasonable amount of traffic, which is definitely a tribute to the modern times:

 

For more than a thousand years Christianity holds up the belief that the grave found in 814 contains the bones of St. James, one of Jesus’ twelve apostles. So the place evolved over the centuries, from location to chapel to village to town to holy city and is now one of the three major religious pilgrimage centres in the world.

Of course, to go there around Easter is quite a challenge and only for those who do not mind crowds...

Fortunately, the service hadn’t begun yet, so everybody could take a good look at this strange cathedral, sporting a baroque outside and a romanic interior.

In the meantime, MS FRAM casts the lines and makes north to go around the northwesternmost tip of the Iberian Isle, However, leaving Portugal did not necessarily mean quitting on the high seas, FRAM steamed towards Spain under a blue sky, but through waves of 5-8 meters that shook everybody and everything nicely. This established a rather quiet atmosphere on board, although everybody couldn’t help but admire the huge waves that hit the bow and covered the whole vessel in curtains of spray. After an exhausting ride we arrived in La Coruña, only one hour late, to find an exited crowd already waiting on the pier – our fellow travellers.

After a long day, a long walk, a bit of rain and chill and some fascinating insights into one of the hot spots of catholic belief, everybody is glad to rejoin MV FRAM in the tiny port of La Coruña. Feels like home...

Along the Lusitanian coast - Porto

Hmmm, after a first good nights sleep people wake up to a funny phenomenon: The ship is moving...

In fact, we have pretty strong westerly winds that drive the clouds across the morning sky and enshroud us with a magical indistinct light. In some, also the stomache seems to be moving due to the seas - the morning is rather quiet in the breakfast halls and lecture theatres.

But as we make our way north, the spirit is rising considerably, and as we make port in Leixoes, the gateway to "Oporto", which simply means "The Harbour".

On the pier, the excursion buses are waiting to take us there and then either on a cruise on the Douro river, or alternatively way back in time, to Guimarães: This little city maybe not the oldest settlement on the Iberian Isle - which has seen anything from early Iberic people to Celts, Romans, Phenicians and Carthaginians - but is actually the birthplace of Portugal with a history dating as far back as 960, when the first castle was buildt. The Cathedral of Guimarães seems light and lofty and is a stark contrast to the dark and heavy palace of Bragança.

Both excursion end with a delicious tasting of white and dark Port wine, which is in fact nothing else but grape juice blended with Brandy to keep it from turning sour, although this is admittedly a rather forensic description of a very tasty national drink.

For those who rather take their own pace, a shuttle bus is going from pier to downtown Porto.For hundreds of years this colorful city with its ubiquitous "Azulejos"(blue tiles), red roofs and green riverbanks has been the centre of Port wine expertise. So it is not surprising to see many of the "Rabelo" boats on the Douro river, some even with Port wine barrels. Good Friday should make you expect this very catholic place being in a religous turmoil, but except some celebrating student groups there didn't seem to be less hustle than anywhere else.

In the evening everybody is back, happy from the sights and - maybe - also a little from the Port wine. So, now it's time to get a good night's rest, because tomorrow we'll be heading for our probably longest excursion day in Santiago de Compostela.

A brandnew start in Lisbon

Sorry for the little break, fellows, but after a crossing around the world there is so much to do, so much to clean up that there is hardly any chance to take pictures or write stories. Apologies!

But now, hold your breath - we are starting all over.