The lazy ocean

So, this is the fierce North Sea? Hah! Smooth as a silk cloth, mild as springtime in the garden, these alledgedly rough waters present themselves from their best side. 

So, holiday it is - sitting outside in the sun, only disrupted by the occasional lecture or the luring smell of freshly made waffles that is wafting across the decks, encouraging the effort to get up and fetch one from the bar. And then it is already time for dinner...phew, rough day!
Around sunset we get a first impression of approaching the beating heart of the Norwegian petroleum industry, more and more oil rigs appear as ghostly silhouettes in the distance. But the port presentations, given by Karin, Corinna and Christelle, do reassure everybody: Apparently Stavanger has much more to offer than just oil and gas. So, let's glide through the night, with a moon so bright that it outshines the stars.

Check-out, check-in

It is in the nature of man to think in chapters, divide life into episodes. Obviously for everyone who leaves us today in Dover, it is a chapter to end. Glad to hear that so many of you liked it tremendously! No reason to be sad, there is always something else to come. Well, that's easy for you to say, might be your comment, you are staying on. True, but also for us, time is sliced. 

We also turn a leaf over when a trip comes to an end. New faces, new itinerary ahead of us, new weather forecast, a new program. An only a few hours inbetween. Which are usually filled to the brim with activity, so it doesn't feel that abrupt. It is only when the (loooong) day is ending that we find the images of the last episode wafting through our memory. That's how it works, everywhere. Life goes on and on, unstoppably. Isn't a ship a good symbol for this?

So, let's float on. The start could hardly be any nicer: A mild afternoon wraps Dover in a bright sunny haze, the white cliffs are gleaming as we pull out the harbour and travel along the coast for a little while. The new arrivals (some of them good ol' customers, though) obviously are enjoying themselves, after having done all the necessary check-in formalities. And again, being on a ship is so metaphoric: Casting the lines literally means severing the ties with your every-day's life. You are officially on holiday now!

Pearl and Oyster

The protagonists in "Les Amants de Pont Neuf" in Paris would certainly not think about the river Seine the way we get to see it here at the Normandy mouth of the stream as we make berth in Le Hare: It is wide and lazy and not meandering at all. And it sits in a very, very useful spot if it comes to infrastructural requirements. So it is no wonder that over the last 50 years the area has been converted into one vast industrial zone with refineries and shipyards and silos and everything that looks all but romantic. However, Le Havre is not without charme, in fact it is a UNESCO world heritage site for its fully untouched 20th century architecture.

Those who are more in for the beauty of the really old days will instead jump onto the shuttle bus and be driven to Honfleur, just on the other bank of the river. After a 20 minutes ride, industry and harbour cranes are left behind and the utterly pittoresque buildings of Honfleur are waiting to be discovered. On foot, of course, the narrow alleyways literally ask for it. It is a little hard to comprehend why this superb little gem is not yet a dedicated car-free zone. Apart from that, time seems to have stood still: old timber-framework houses are leaning towards the cobblestone streets, old masonery does the rest. It was a pirate nest, a fisherman's central, all from the medieval times on, it was a spritual hub for artists like Eugen Boudin and Monet later on, and the city still lives it: 

On every corner we find galleries, art shops, or at least allusions to the pirate era. A wonderful old-fashioned atmosphere lies on the place, the natural speed is the stroll, the natural expression is that of sheer awe and curiosity. And who can withstand all these temptations that come in form of Normandy bread, Normandy cake, spices, Calvados and Crêpes? No mistake, this is a hidden pearl, in the embrace of that concrete-and-steel world of today's industry. Good to know it is there.

And now - it is time to say good-bye: Captain's Farewell Cocktail is held in the Observation Lounge, because tomorrow morning we will dock in Dover and - sorry to say that - this trip is over. But as it seems, all had a really, really good time and leave unwillingly, but happy. Have a safe journey home!

Two Islands Dressing

A long day lays ahead of us, when the heavy anchor chain of FRAM is rattling in the morning, for the first time during this trip. We are about a solid mile away from the tiny little harbour of Sark, certainly one of the most unusual Islands in Europe. Situated in the English Channel, but not too far from the Normannic side, this remarkable rock sits like a steep and cragged, but also lush and colour-boasting obstacle in the sea. It is time now to enter our Polar Circel boats and ferry over, while sun and clouds fight for their right in the morning sky. On approach we can see many gaping dark cave mouths in the cliffs. They are excellent hideouts, which is one of the reasons why the Channel Islands used to be the realm of Pirates in the old days, a wild place indeed. 

We, however, feel all but threatened by the friendly welcome they give us. Tractor transports bring us uphill where we have the choice to be happy, independent cyclists or equally happy passengers in the horse-and-carriages, that take us across the car-free roads of this very peaceful place. Those who venture over to Little Sark, a smaller appendix of the "big" island, only connected by the narrow bridge "La Coupée", experience a world outside the world; no noise, no rush, no worries. No streetlamps, either. This is why Sark has been appointed the worlds first "Dark Sky Community", only as of February this year. The Serquois, as the inhabitants of this bilingual evironment are called, are mighty proud of this darkness, that you otherwise find only in much remoter places, like a desert camp, for example.

Way too fast the hours pass by, but finally the bikes have to be returned, the carriages have to be left alone, and then we climb back into the boats to get back to FRAM, across a choppy sea. This was a visit in another world, everybody agrees.

It takes only a good hour to hop over to Guernsey, much bigger, much more traffic and with a real "skyline". But we should not forget that this used to be "Pirate Central" in the times of Brigantines and buckaneers, and in fact, some of the islanders are proudly claiming to be the descendants of former privateers. And who knows? Today it's ferries and busses and nice shops in a narrowly winding arrangement of streets that feel as if the cobblestones have just been taken away. On arrival, most of us jump on the coaches that leave for a three-hour extensive city tour with excellent guides who inform us about all the aspects of the island's history, from piracy benefitting from the huge tidal range (that we only can see manifested in a submerged landing pier), to the role of Gurnsey during WW II. So, everybody returns to FRAM tired, but happy and full of new information. A day to remember!

Around the Normandy Coast

Is it…? Is it not…? Yes, it is, the ship is actually moving…! Quite a few of us might have had this little train of thought in the morning, eyes still closed. But there's no doubt, the soft heaving of the hull gives us - for the first time on this trip - the impression of being on a seagoing vessel. Finally! In addition to this the grey clouds of the last two days vanish slowly, and by mid-day we are cruising under open skies. Seabirds are circling round the ship, the air is mild. Again it is quite a struggle to go inside and listen to lectures. At some stage, however, everybody's attention is undivided: Karin and Corinna give the landing instruction, because tomorrow at the small islands there's no pier for us. That means disembarking with the Polar Circel boats, that means also learning about the basic necesseties, like putting on a life west and taking someone else's arm with the "sailor's grip".

Boats and wests are still sitting neatly tied up and caged on deck 2, while the sun sets spectacularly in the West. When it comes up again, there will be action!

Until then, we can witness the remarkable skills you can develop, having nothing but a sharp knife, enough imagination and the eyes of an artist: Our crew demontrates the creation of their most beautiful fruit-and-vegetable sculpting, while Brian shows us that ice is not just frozen water but actually a handy material for a master carver, while FRAM is slowly making round the corner and heading for that narrow passage where England, France and Belgium meet. Good night, Bretagne!

From Sea to City

Early in the morning we take the pilot on board who is going to bring us safely upstream. This seems a little odd, since La Gironde is a wide open water, very much unlike a river. And in fact, it is what we call an estuary, a tide-controlled bay that ends in a river. The tidal range is a considerable 4,5 m, creating strong currents all along the stream. And finally the Gironde narrows down, making the navigation much less obvious than in the beginning. Two hours later, after passing the confluence with the Dordogne we get the feeling of riding a bus on a narrow road. When the houses and cathedrals of Bordeaux appear round the next bend it feels like driving right into the heart of the city.
Actually, into the red heart of France: The most precious wines of the world are made on both sides of the river. On the souther, muddy bank we find grapes like Margaux, Médoc, Graves, and Sauternes, wheras the limestone on the northern side yields the famous St. Emilion, Pomerol, and Fronsac. This is also where the day's excursion leads to, the incredibly scenic and hilly village of St. Emilion, departure point for a faszinating tour into the limestone caves that build the foundation for the world famous grapes. It is a special moment to half crawl through the tunnels in the mountain, only to emerge into the steep-walled underground church!

Meanwhile FRAM deals with the journalists, city officials, travel agents and port guests who come to see us. Also she takes in all the necessary replacements in food that we need for the next stretch. As a very special delivery we receive the huge cask that we left here last time. Remember the story with the FRAM cognac? It is distilled now and ready to be bottled, after being brewed with waters from both polar circles and being transported twice around the world. Quite some V.S.O.P, this is!

Taking a walk in Bordeaux is a lively thing, the roads are crammed with people shopping, going out for a coffee or wine, visiting good bookshops or - just like us - marvelling at the old and weathered sandstone cathedrals and churches, with their numerous ornaments and gargoyles. It is a place where you want to spend a month and a half only to test all the different bistros and brasseries and restaurants. Unfortunately we will have to get back in time before the city-owned gangway (tides!) is lifted again. But then again, we are heading for the Channel Islands now, who is possibly going to complain…??