The ancient heart of Norwegian tourism

Sorry for the break, guys, but our satellite for transmission hovers around the equator. That means, every time we enter a deep fjord the high walls block it out and we have to wait for the next broadcast opportunity. Like now...Carrying on:
...Ok, ok, we were lucky so far, really lucky, so no one complains about the overcast day as we pull into Ålesund. This widespread city is scrambled around the entrance of the Geiranger-Fjord and  has a most extraordinary old town which is due to the fact that after a devastating fire in 1904 the whole place was restored in one go, the new buildings being built in Art Nouveau style. So they are shiny and cosy and playful, which makes the guided walk an architectural little highlight.
In spite of the fading daylight we steam deeper and deeper into the fjord, and just before nightfall we arrive in the probably most popular place in the whole of coastal Norway - Geiranger. The steep walls of the Geirangerfjord looming over the ship, waterfalls gurgling and rushing down the mountain flancs whereever you look. As we land the first Polar Cirkel Boat the situation is a bit unreal: Not a living soul in sight, no car, no light, nothing. The place is asleep, and for a good reason: We are the very first cruise ship of the season that brings people to Geiranger. This will change dramatically in the next months: Believe it or not, this 450 soul-village welcomes about 600.000 tourists per season, in a few months, that is. Imagination creates pictures of overcroweded streets, of fights over souvenirs in the shops, and the never-ending sound of cars and noisy crowds. Un-be-lievable! Very happy to be here right now, we enjoy a slow and quiet walk uphill to the Geiranger Fjordcenter (that opens just for us!), where they have a very well-done exhibition about life in the Fjord and the times when tourism discovered Geiranger in the beginning of the 20th century. Under the stars and to the sound of the waterfall only, we stroll back to the jetty where FRAM is fully lit in the night - a very unusual sight, since she usually goes to places that never get dark. Good night Geiranger, good luck with the tourist invasion - we are outta here!

When terminology fails

How many words does a language have to describe nature's highlights?

Gorgeous, baffling, marvelous, breathtaking, mind-boggling- stop it right here! Otherwise there will be no description of the day. But what else springs to mind when you enter a place like Sognefjorden in the brightest of all days in springtime? The weather is suitable for a coronation, the valleys and villages are gleaming in the morning sun. Splendid, great, overwhelming, fantastic! A little later, FRAM stops in the railway station. That's right - we are in Flåm, departure point of one of the most spectacular train rides in the world, starting right at the pier. Only 21km, but 20 tunnels, bringing us high up to nearly 900 m, crossing rivers and valleys and glaciers. Unbelievable, unreal, thrilling, magic! Some take the train back right away, some continue to Voss and the open air museum of Møstetunet. But the real fresh air fanatics join the mountain bike tour from Berekvam back to Flåm. Some time later a dozen of us glide down the fjord-flanking little roads, warm wind and sun in the face, the glittering of numerous waterfalls around the path, passing frozen waterfalls and lush meadows, stopping here and there for a picture.

Tremendous, enchanting, awe-inspiring, stunning!  Finally, after too short a time, we roll back into the port, where FRAM is already waiting to carry on, deeper again into the Fjords until the world seems to end. Gudvangen, dead end for ships but the starting point for a very unusual excursion - the white caves of the Sognedal. Pragmatically speaking, it is a marble reservoir that has been dug out of the mountains for about fourty years. But look what they did to the place! They transformed it into a beautifully lit grotto with little snippets of classical music here and there, you walk on your own, treading softly on a carpet to avoid noises that distract you from this silent moments of introspection. At the end of this peaceful path is a big hall with wooden benches and reindeer skins and tea and candles and cookies. A little quieter than before, we get back on the bus, down to the pier, into the boats and - finally, after a very long day, home to FRAM.

Isn't the world - simply beautiful?

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!