Blow me far away to the Northern Lights
Before this holiday fades irredeemably into the annals of faded memories, I'd better say something about my week in Norway and how that worked out for us all. It goes without saying that it was a lovely, magical holiday in a beautiful landscape which was also very expensive (apparently Norweigans earn three times as much as us Brits, thus charge four times as much for everything. Hmmm). Of course, I felt like a bit of a fraud at times: I mean, a holiday in which I went on a cruise and ate lobster and caviar? Well, that's the kind of thing that happens to other people, isn't it?
Warning: this is really, really long. If you dare, here's all the information.
DAY ONE
We started, after the usual flight and all, in Tromso, which is a town rebuilt after the annihilations of World War II in the style which it supposedly was before. This is a fairly common theme on the Norweigan coast: the rebuilding mostly seems to have been done with triangular churches and houses all in different colours. This gives it a sort of pseudo-historical charm which is, in itself, quaintly historical. Of course, everywhere was about a foot deep in snow.
The ship itself was somewhere between a ferry and a cruise liner. It was called the MS Nordlys (Northern Lights, do you see) and trundles around the Norway coast delivering packages and supplies, as well as ferrying around tourists. It offered a sauna and a gymnasium as well as the restaurant and bar, and an observation room for those who like scenery but weren't foolhardy enough to go on the deck. There were, and are, a whopping seven floors onboard.
I shared a cabin with my sister. It was, well, how you'd expect I suppose. We lined up the booze we'd brought onboard (we knew already we'd be in £8/pint territory) and slept on beds which disappeared into discreet hiding places in the daytime. The bathroom asked us not to 'throw strange things in toilet'. The restaurant, which mostly delivered outstanding results every time, offered a wine called 'Dry Sack'. The cafe/shop offered 'Ass Smakaker'. Engrish win.
The entertainment on the ship that night was a talk about stockfish. We'd never heard of them before, or since, and didn't attend the talk. Apparently, though, they're like dried fish in a sort of Pepperami style. As part of Norway's relief aid, they sent a load of stockfish to Africa and the Africans, baffled, promptly used the stockfish to roof their houses. Worked well, apparently, until it started raining.
DAY TWO
On our first full day of boat living, we were taken to the North Cape, via Honningsvag. The North Cape is the most Northern part of Europe and lies across the sea from the Arctic. Once there, we were blasted with a wind which cruelly picked up the snow from the ground and blasted it into our faces, taking the temperature to a tropical -23c. Having posed for photographs we could take no more and retreated into the warmth of the museum, which was a rum do, to say the least. Among the inexplicable attractions were a sea wall with taxidermy birds; a shrine to the King of Siam; and a chapel (St Johannes if I remember right) which combines art nouveau with rockface, which is an unusual mix.
We were escorted as a group back from the Nordkapp to the ferry and promptly passed out.
Just before dinner, the Northern Lights made their first appearance. There wasn't an enormous amount to see- it was like a streak of mist in the sky. They hung around for about half an hour before conveniently disappearing just before it was time to go in and eat.
The food on the night was spectacular, being as it was a buffet of many billions of things. Omnivores, pescetarians, vegetarians and vegans would have all found a decent enough feed there, and how often can you say that? We watched the music onboard (they played 'Cocaine' by Clapton, bizarrely) and, braving the deck, started to watch a talk on king crab, but it was freezing and the dysfunctional PA system meant we could only hear one word in four, rendering the exercise pointless. Ah well!
After this, sailing was anything but smooth- the water was choppy for our entire time in the North-East of Norway, which led to unpleasant sleep.
DAY THREE
Day Three was my Dad's 50th birthday, which the Aurora Borealis rewarded by thoughtfully showing up on three different occasions. The second of these was not much to note, but the first (at about 6pm) and particularly the third (which was at about 1am) were spectacular in their activity, longevity and sky coverage. The Lights are an odd trompe d'oeil: it looks like they're hidden behind something, trees or buildings, because they abruptly cut off at angles as they approach the Earth's atmosphere. In fact, though, it's just the refraction of the light against the curvature of the Earth or something something something. The Lights floated around the sky for a while, increasing and diminishing their size and intensity and changing their colour and position in the sky before finally fading altogether.
The day's activity was in Kirkenes but who cares where it was, it was husky sledding day. Firstly, we met some reindeer, who allowed themselves to be stroked and fed moss. The reindeer are apparently too stupid to locate this moss when it's buried beneath snow, which makes you wonder how they'd survive in Scandinavia without humans. The deer themselves were, of course, beautiful. After this, we learnt about how the Sami, the nomadic people who cart these reindeer around, keep warm. We sat in a teepee and were more and more baffled as to how much of the reindeer they use (reindeer shinpads, for example). Outside, the huskies, eager to get runnning, were howling.
After putting on snowsuits and stamping around in the cold, we were off: my sister and I in the lead sled, my parents behind us, and some other people from the cruise (and I suppose elsewhere) trailing behind. Our dogs, not messing about, left everyone for dust. Our parents' dogs refused to go in the direction they were being led and upturned the sled, tossing our parents out. Happily, they emerged unscathed. The dogs all had their individual personalities. One was very possessive of its mate. Another two were very affectionate. Another was easily distracted by talking smack to its girlfriend and looking behind it at the other dogs. Meanwhile, the dog at the back decided to demonstrate to us how it could shit and run at the same time. Our musher explained "there are 82 dogs and they have 82 ways of taking a shit while they're running". After what appeared to be about a minute, but what had actually been a five-mile run, the run ended. The time had flown by.
We just- just!- had time to look at the Snow Hotel, which is one of those hotels made out of ice and snow. The hotel hardly looked cosy, even with the many furs of- yes- reindeer that you'd sleep between. The centre of the Hotel was a bar where, presumably, one would get pie-eyed on vodka to shut out the cold. Unfortunately our time was limited, I wish I'd had a more leisurely look around, but hey, it was cool.
After dinner, which was- yes- reindeer in a game sauce with bacon and sausages- surely the most meat-based dish ever- we looked around this place called Vardo, about which there is little to report. We tried to look at a fort, but the price of admission was ludicrous given we had barely an hour before the boat set off again. The snow was amazing, piled up in enormous heaps and knee-deep on the ground. We also looked at a creepy playground which was covered in snow and totally empty, and raided a convenience store for crisps that didn't cost £5 for a bag.
DAY FOUR
Our final day on the MS Nordlys featured Hammerfest, a town with an amusing name which the boat loitered at briefly. In the now de rigeur triangular church, the decoration which most captured our imagination were two tapestries made by children of Easter and the Last Supper. These were of a consistent standard (terrible). The organ was legitimately beautiful, though. The only other particularly notable Hammerfest spot was a blue bandstand which were embellished with grinning polar bear faces on each corner (I hasten to add these weren't actual polar bear heads).
Not much else happened. I took a load of pictures of the boat, which are, of course, on Facebook. We played some cards. We ate a meal where the starter was, bizarrely, cheese on toast and they STILL managed to get away with it. Then, as we were heading back to Tromso, the Northern Lights showed up again and, this time, took over the entire sky. There were wisps of green and white all over the place, not just on the horizon, as had been the case before, but everywhere else- they passed overhead and reached into the night sky in what was their most spectacular appearance in our time there. That's what makes them so cool, they were different every single time. Then, alas, they were gone and so too was our life at sea. We bundled into a hotel on the docks, watched some terrible police chase show and some South Park, and slept.
On Day Five, following some looking at Tromso, we headed back home and by the nighttime, I was in Coventry, although still feeling like I was on a boat, a feeling which did not go away for some days. If I wasn't moving- either on train or on bus- I felt like I'd fall over. On the plus side, I did feel like going out in a T-shirt as the temperature in the UK was a mere -1c.
More writing tomorrow if I can find time, featuring this time the details of Crispin Glover's Big Slide Show and 'It Is Fine! Everything is FINE.'.
Warning: this is really, really long. If you dare, here's all the information.
DAY ONE
We started, after the usual flight and all, in Tromso, which is a town rebuilt after the annihilations of World War II in the style which it supposedly was before. This is a fairly common theme on the Norweigan coast: the rebuilding mostly seems to have been done with triangular churches and houses all in different colours. This gives it a sort of pseudo-historical charm which is, in itself, quaintly historical. Of course, everywhere was about a foot deep in snow.
The ship itself was somewhere between a ferry and a cruise liner. It was called the MS Nordlys (Northern Lights, do you see) and trundles around the Norway coast delivering packages and supplies, as well as ferrying around tourists. It offered a sauna and a gymnasium as well as the restaurant and bar, and an observation room for those who like scenery but weren't foolhardy enough to go on the deck. There were, and are, a whopping seven floors onboard.
I shared a cabin with my sister. It was, well, how you'd expect I suppose. We lined up the booze we'd brought onboard (we knew already we'd be in £8/pint territory) and slept on beds which disappeared into discreet hiding places in the daytime. The bathroom asked us not to 'throw strange things in toilet'. The restaurant, which mostly delivered outstanding results every time, offered a wine called 'Dry Sack'. The cafe/shop offered 'Ass Smakaker'. Engrish win.
The entertainment on the ship that night was a talk about stockfish. We'd never heard of them before, or since, and didn't attend the talk. Apparently, though, they're like dried fish in a sort of Pepperami style. As part of Norway's relief aid, they sent a load of stockfish to Africa and the Africans, baffled, promptly used the stockfish to roof their houses. Worked well, apparently, until it started raining.
DAY TWO
On our first full day of boat living, we were taken to the North Cape, via Honningsvag. The North Cape is the most Northern part of Europe and lies across the sea from the Arctic. Once there, we were blasted with a wind which cruelly picked up the snow from the ground and blasted it into our faces, taking the temperature to a tropical -23c. Having posed for photographs we could take no more and retreated into the warmth of the museum, which was a rum do, to say the least. Among the inexplicable attractions were a sea wall with taxidermy birds; a shrine to the King of Siam; and a chapel (St Johannes if I remember right) which combines art nouveau with rockface, which is an unusual mix.
We were escorted as a group back from the Nordkapp to the ferry and promptly passed out.
Just before dinner, the Northern Lights made their first appearance. There wasn't an enormous amount to see- it was like a streak of mist in the sky. They hung around for about half an hour before conveniently disappearing just before it was time to go in and eat.
The food on the night was spectacular, being as it was a buffet of many billions of things. Omnivores, pescetarians, vegetarians and vegans would have all found a decent enough feed there, and how often can you say that? We watched the music onboard (they played 'Cocaine' by Clapton, bizarrely) and, braving the deck, started to watch a talk on king crab, but it was freezing and the dysfunctional PA system meant we could only hear one word in four, rendering the exercise pointless. Ah well!
After this, sailing was anything but smooth- the water was choppy for our entire time in the North-East of Norway, which led to unpleasant sleep.
DAY THREE
Day Three was my Dad's 50th birthday, which the Aurora Borealis rewarded by thoughtfully showing up on three different occasions. The second of these was not much to note, but the first (at about 6pm) and particularly the third (which was at about 1am) were spectacular in their activity, longevity and sky coverage. The Lights are an odd trompe d'oeil: it looks like they're hidden behind something, trees or buildings, because they abruptly cut off at angles as they approach the Earth's atmosphere. In fact, though, it's just the refraction of the light against the curvature of the Earth or something something something. The Lights floated around the sky for a while, increasing and diminishing their size and intensity and changing their colour and position in the sky before finally fading altogether.
The day's activity was in Kirkenes but who cares where it was, it was husky sledding day. Firstly, we met some reindeer, who allowed themselves to be stroked and fed moss. The reindeer are apparently too stupid to locate this moss when it's buried beneath snow, which makes you wonder how they'd survive in Scandinavia without humans. The deer themselves were, of course, beautiful. After this, we learnt about how the Sami, the nomadic people who cart these reindeer around, keep warm. We sat in a teepee and were more and more baffled as to how much of the reindeer they use (reindeer shinpads, for example). Outside, the huskies, eager to get runnning, were howling.
After putting on snowsuits and stamping around in the cold, we were off: my sister and I in the lead sled, my parents behind us, and some other people from the cruise (and I suppose elsewhere) trailing behind. Our dogs, not messing about, left everyone for dust. Our parents' dogs refused to go in the direction they were being led and upturned the sled, tossing our parents out. Happily, they emerged unscathed. The dogs all had their individual personalities. One was very possessive of its mate. Another two were very affectionate. Another was easily distracted by talking smack to its girlfriend and looking behind it at the other dogs. Meanwhile, the dog at the back decided to demonstrate to us how it could shit and run at the same time. Our musher explained "there are 82 dogs and they have 82 ways of taking a shit while they're running". After what appeared to be about a minute, but what had actually been a five-mile run, the run ended. The time had flown by.
We just- just!- had time to look at the Snow Hotel, which is one of those hotels made out of ice and snow. The hotel hardly looked cosy, even with the many furs of- yes- reindeer that you'd sleep between. The centre of the Hotel was a bar where, presumably, one would get pie-eyed on vodka to shut out the cold. Unfortunately our time was limited, I wish I'd had a more leisurely look around, but hey, it was cool.
After dinner, which was- yes- reindeer in a game sauce with bacon and sausages- surely the most meat-based dish ever- we looked around this place called Vardo, about which there is little to report. We tried to look at a fort, but the price of admission was ludicrous given we had barely an hour before the boat set off again. The snow was amazing, piled up in enormous heaps and knee-deep on the ground. We also looked at a creepy playground which was covered in snow and totally empty, and raided a convenience store for crisps that didn't cost £5 for a bag.
DAY FOUR
Our final day on the MS Nordlys featured Hammerfest, a town with an amusing name which the boat loitered at briefly. In the now de rigeur triangular church, the decoration which most captured our imagination were two tapestries made by children of Easter and the Last Supper. These were of a consistent standard (terrible). The organ was legitimately beautiful, though. The only other particularly notable Hammerfest spot was a blue bandstand which were embellished with grinning polar bear faces on each corner (I hasten to add these weren't actual polar bear heads).
Not much else happened. I took a load of pictures of the boat, which are, of course, on Facebook. We played some cards. We ate a meal where the starter was, bizarrely, cheese on toast and they STILL managed to get away with it. Then, as we were heading back to Tromso, the Northern Lights showed up again and, this time, took over the entire sky. There were wisps of green and white all over the place, not just on the horizon, as had been the case before, but everywhere else- they passed overhead and reached into the night sky in what was their most spectacular appearance in our time there. That's what makes them so cool, they were different every single time. Then, alas, they were gone and so too was our life at sea. We bundled into a hotel on the docks, watched some terrible police chase show and some South Park, and slept.
On Day Five, following some looking at Tromso, we headed back home and by the nighttime, I was in Coventry, although still feeling like I was on a boat, a feeling which did not go away for some days. If I wasn't moving- either on train or on bus- I felt like I'd fall over. On the plus side, I did feel like going out in a T-shirt as the temperature in the UK was a mere -1c.
More writing tomorrow if I can find time, featuring this time the details of Crispin Glover's Big Slide Show and 'It Is Fine! Everything is FINE.'.