(no subject)
Trondheim: the city that stumbles seedily about in a distressed leather jacket and run-down black jeans while crooking its track-marked elbow around its hot Asian girlfriend. Yes, there may not yet be an evening but there is amazing Thai food up here at 63° North; we were so impressed by the existence of crisp, fresh vegetables that we've been to the Bangkok Palace twice in two nights. We've actually been off the boat, and surrounded by free wifi, for four nights, spending two in Bergen before coming up here; my apologies for not updating sooner. I must say that I've been a bit daunted in trying to sum up a two-week, eight-country cruise in a pithy and witty manner. Cruises obviate even the just barely half-potted bullshit sociopsychological observations I like to pass off as travelogue. By the time you've figured out how to jaywalk, you have to get back on the boat. You don't even get a chance to see a city by night -- well, that's not much of an issue here this time of year. I think there might have been something resembling dusk somewhere between Gdansk and Copenhagen.
I tried to avoid most of the ship-organized shore excursions -- I hate the idea of bringing my own crowd with me -- and the most special moments on the Baltic certainly came during those times we had escaped the throngs. Canoeing along the Royal Canal, alone but for the ducks and the trees of Djurgärden, in the middle of downtown Stockholm. Crossing through the Green Gate onto the sun-dappled Długi Targ before anyone before a few Polish commuters. I also tried to extend my stay in each country as often as possible through at least a meal. The chef on the boat was undistinguished anyway. I was happy to sample the local cuisine of several little nations, if the cuisine can be considered local when I demur from visiting any restaurant that isn't specifically garlic-themed.
I don't really expect to find much garlic, or Thai, or broadband internet when I arrive in Svalbard tomorrow, so after checking in before my flight out in the morning I probably won't be able to update with whatever half-baked fantasia of insight to which I might aspire.
I tried to avoid most of the ship-organized shore excursions -- I hate the idea of bringing my own crowd with me -- and the most special moments on the Baltic certainly came during those times we had escaped the throngs. Canoeing along the Royal Canal, alone but for the ducks and the trees of Djurgärden, in the middle of downtown Stockholm. Crossing through the Green Gate onto the sun-dappled Długi Targ before anyone before a few Polish commuters. I also tried to extend my stay in each country as often as possible through at least a meal. The chef on the boat was undistinguished anyway. I was happy to sample the local cuisine of several little nations, if the cuisine can be considered local when I demur from visiting any restaurant that isn't specifically garlic-themed.
I don't really expect to find much garlic, or Thai, or broadband internet when I arrive in Svalbard tomorrow, so after checking in before my flight out in the morning I probably won't be able to update with whatever half-baked fantasia of insight to which I might aspire.