The Art of FRAM

After all we have seen, after all we have done, after so many impressions, places, kinds of food, of churches and people it feels rather like a break from the break, a welcome opportunity to take a deep breath and - do nothing.
It is just fine to wake up for breakfast, then sit around on deck or in the lounge, contemplating the time that lies behind us. And as it happens very often: As soon as you divert the eye from the colorful outside, from the many things that are somewhere else, you start discovering what is around you. Have you ever noticed how much love for the detail is in FRAM? Well, then let me show you a bit of the artful decoration that is everywhere on our ship. Walk up the stairs and you will find beautiful copper etchings done by Anne-Birthe Hove, a Greenlandic artist, who dedicated her œvre to the tradition of the people in the north. Even the transparent ends on the handrails are made of frosted glass in the shape of icebergs, each deck in a different color.
Nothing is left to chance, when you go dancing on deck 7, take a look to the black pattern that is laid out in the dancefloor. Not many know that this symbolizes driftwood on the coast of Greenland, coming from Canada, a natural building material that played and still plays a major part in Greenlandic life. Lift your eyes to the ceiling, what do you see? Well-designed lights? OK, what else? If you look at the whole construction you will see that it is imitating the shape of a whale-hunters harpoon, and is of course another dedication to the brave Arctic people that go out in simple kayaks to hunt for their survival. Those who are more into paintings admire the water-colors of Lars Lerin that are on display in the Bistro area and have been created especially for FRAM. Speaking of painting, no one can overlook the huge depiction of an Arctic sunset by Miki Jacobsen, on the way to the restaurant.
As you can see, FRAM is not only a ship, it is a declaration of passionate devotion to the Polar regions.

After a flaming red nightfall - a display of nature's art - there is a gathering in the Lounge to witness the fashion show, an array of little performances to introduce our shop's products. Some present themselves in true top form. Art? Well, that's up to you...

Gateway to Russia

After a smooth crossing of the Saaristomeri, the Archipelago Sea between Sweden and Finland with its ten thousands of islands, a chilly breeze greets us in Helsinki.
Although this translates into "sunset" there is not much to see in terms of springtime. In fact, people are dressed up in thick coats, wearing hats and shawls and tell us about the harshest imaginable winter that has just passed since many years. So we do the same and dress warmly before we start to explore the city at the very far end of Europe, next door to Russia and fraught with history. And it shows at first sight: The well-kept classicistic houses that build the general background are overtopped by the fabulous white dome and the red-bricked Uspenski Cathedral, witnesses of the czarist era. When you move in town, you also recognize the typical wide-spaced, pompous but somehow grim buildings of the Russian "superpower-architecture". Then again, Jugendstil left its marks, too, like in the straight-lined railway station, the National Theatre or the filigrane glass fronts of the cafés on the Esplanade. And over the whole city lies the atmosphere of a slightly unorganized effort to combine Cosmopolitan and Bohemian lifestyle, very young, friendly and a little odd. . A truly remarkable mixture, appealing and unique.

Those who join the guided tour get to hear a Sibelius concerto in the German Church in the evening's twilight, leaving a very intense memory.
And now it is time to head for the farthest, most unknown and most exotic stop on this voyage - St. Petersburg.

The Times of the Hanseatic League

Well, MV FRAM is not precisely an old schooner, but as we approach the pier in Bergen, old trade center of the Hanseatic times. In spite of all the fire hazard, the wooden old town Bryggen is still there, although you can spot fire extinguishing devices on the roofs now. The creaking of the planks creates a feeling of old times, of heavy ledgers on tiny pedestals in candlelight, blocks and tackles lifting barrels and heavy bundles of wool, fur or spices, while the clumsy hulks of galleons are heaving in the port. OK, this impression fades quickly when you step outside of Bryggen, where Norwegian daily life is taking place with all the hustle and bustle of a modern city. It is a place of theatre and music, too, Grieg and Ibsen are famous names. The day passes quickly, city tour, Grieg concerto, shopping, going to cafés or simply wandering around, tasting delicacies at the fish market. Or all of that. Certainly a very suitable place to finish our fabulous trip, because over night and the following day it will be the transfer to Oslo, city of disembarkation. To prevent everybody from getting too dreary the MV Crew Show is held tonight, and all participants are really doing their very, very best.

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!

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!

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...