Transatlantic Journal – Entry Secundus
Transatlantic Journal – Entry SecundusThursday, 1 September 2011 – Sailing around the Faroe Islands
The first three ports were on three consecutive days, and the time seemed to go by quite quickly. Here’s the recap…
30 August – Bergen, Norway
As mentioned in the previous journal entry, our arrival into Bergen was delayed by nearly seven hours. The night of rough seas as we headed north finally gave way to calmer seas by morning. We sailed on for hours, passing many other ships and a fair number of oil platforms. Around 1:30PM we turned toward the Norwegian coast, picked up our pilot, and sailed down the inland waterways toward Bergen. There were colorful small houses that dotted the various islands as we passed. The increasing number of buildings signaled that we were nearing Norway’s second largest city. We sailed under several suspension bridges and as Bergen was coming into sight, the cloud layer dropped ominously lower.
By the time we made fast at one of the cargo docks at 5PM, it was starting to threaten rain. Allan got the bright idea to bring neither a hat nor an umbrella, and I felt that my raincoat (with hood) would be sufficient. We were both daft…
We weren’t that far back in the queue to disembark the ship, but because we were at the cargo dock, we had to be bussed to the center of town (probably not more than a half-mile as the bird flew). Alas, they provided very few buses, and the wait got longer and longer. And just as we were ready to step off the ship, it started raining. Not bad, in this Seattleite’s view, but rain nonetheless.
We were let off next to Lille-Lungegårdvann park. Even in the rain you could enjoy the beautiful lake and fountain, surrounded by trees and gardens. We walked past the Radisson Hotel with its TGI Fridays and Pepe’s Pizza on the street level toward the pedestrian-only shopping street Torgalmenning. I think the rain and the time of day made for rather desolate shopping, but we appreciated the fact that the sidewalks had nice glass coverings to keep us relatively dry.
Most of the people we saw were youngish and cute, a welcome change from the Rest Home on the Seas (sorry, dear readers, but this ship is easily 90% filled with people well into their retirement). One store that seemed to have a lot of sales going on (at least we interpreted it that way) was Jack & Jones, where I purchased a nice Henley-collar shirt and an umbrella for poor Allan. Allan purchased (wait for it) more underwear (on sale of course – you know I can’t abide paying retail J - Allan). Did I mention the very high prices in Bergen? The exchange rate wasn’t so good, and the clothing prices were fairly high. How does anyone afford to keep clothed here?
With the umbrella in hand (literally), we made our way toward Vågen, the heart of the old city. Now, this is the part you usually see in the tourist brochures: brightly colored 18th century buildings of Bryggen facing a small harbor. Only on this day, the rain came down harder and even the brightly colored 18th century buildings seemed dull in the deluge. Apologies to Angela Moore, but we never made it to the Leprosy Museum. But we did walk around the wonderful old buildings and managed to get some nice pictures, even in far less than optimum conditions.
At this point my raincoat was soaked through, as were my shirt, pants, and socks. We decided to head back, passing the lower station for the Mt. Fløyen tramway. We knew the old rule: if you couldn’t see the top from the bottom, it probably wasn’t worth going up. And at this point it was after 7PM, so it was closed.
We took a different route back, passing many attractive (but closed) stores and restaurants (with people dining al fresco under the awnings despite the cold and rain). After the (mostly) dreadful modern architecture of London, it was nice to see some contemporary designs here that managed to fit in with the surrounding buildings yet make their own design statements.
Back to the lovely park and lake, and a clump of wet people waiting to board the buses back to the ship. When we arrived back on the pier, crew members stood by with dry towels, which were much needed. But then they made us wait in the rain for the security back on to the Crown Princess. WTF??? Probably not the best of decisions, and it was certainly a major topic of conversation that night and for the next several days.
We changed out of our wet clothes and went down to the dining room for dinner. We had requested a table in Juan’s section, but this time we were back to our first waiter, Jordan. Jordan’s from Bosnia and certainly isn’t as jovial as Juan (sorry – I disagree; Jordan is quite jovial and possibly more genuine than Juan – who is always “on” – Allan). However, his assistant Cedrick (from Goa, India) is much more fun (fun he says… heh heh >:-) Cedrick is very handsome). Together they provide a good service. As far as the food, the steak has been surprisingly good on this trip so far - the potatoes…not so much.
We left soggy Bergen after 10PM, and watched the lights of houses passing as we made our way back up the channel. By the time we hit the North Sea, we were fast asleep…
31 August – Lerwick, Shetland Islands, Scotland
I was really looking forward to seeing the Shetland Islands, hoping it would be the glory of Scotland in miniature. Alas, Lerwick was like dreary Glasgow in miniature: grey buildings and not much greenery. This time we got to use the ship’s tenders, which is always a challenge. But with 3,300 people to get off in 4-5 small boats, the waits were long and people’s patience tested. Not much you can do, I guess.
[Yes, I know this entry sounds whiney. Sorry. I mean, we’re on vacation and that’s a good thing. And we’re having fun. But these are my impressions and I don’t sugarcoat my feelings, as many of you know.]
We anchored in the harbor around 10AM and took our place in the queue in the Michelangelo Dining room, awaiting our turn to be called. We waited about an hour or more before we could be taken ashore. We sat atop the tender, enjoying the cool fresh air. The surrounding countryside was hilly and fairly rocky. The town was tidy and compact, albeit with too many of those dreary gray buildings abutting one another. We meandered down Commercial Street, and thence up to Fort Charlotte. The views were nice, but aside from the cannons and what remains of the walls, it wasn’t much of a fort.
We walked up to Hillhead Street and visited the nice Town Hall, which had some beautiful stained glass windows from the Victorian era. Some of the homes along this street featured beautiful gardens in very small front lawns. This must have been the chic-er area in days gone by, and by the looks of it was still well-maintained.
The Shetlands are not only known for their diminutive horses (which alas we didn’t see), but also for their wool and knitwear. Allan bought a colorful button-up sweater vest, which the Brits call a “wooly jumper” (!!!). Not coincidentally, this term is also used for sheep. Sheep. Lamb. Get it?
We had lunch at the Havly Cafe on Charlotte Street. This was a little ways off the tourist path, and was filled mainly with locals…and lots of their kids; very family friendly. The food was good and atmosphere pleasant, all accompanied by good service. I had a mushroom risotto that was terrific, and Allan had a turkey sandwich that was on freshly baked “brown” bread.
We decided that several hours were just fine in Lerwick and headed back to the ship for a long nap. Met up with the boys again for drinks at 5:30, and then finally enjoyed the “stone chairs” in the Thermal Suite for about half an hour. Allan’s very fond of these, but I just get antsy. I mean, you just lie there on this tiled warm chaise, soaking up the heat like a lizard. That’s why Allan refers to this as the Lizard Lounge.
This time for dinner we sat with five other people: a couple from North Carolina, a woman from somewhere (I didn’t hear from where), and a couple from Homer, Alaska. The couple from North Carolina were originally from New York, and the husband was a graduate of DeWitt Clinton High in the Bronx (where Uncle Roy and Richard went, but several years later). Lots of convivial conversation, and Juan the waiter was even more “on” than the previous night. While preparing Allan’s Café Diabolo, we got an entire chorus of “O Sole Mio”. Since there were more people at the table, instead of just the two of us, dinner lasted much longer. I rather enjoyed it…
1 September – Torshavn, Faroe Islands
September 1st is usually a very “up” day for me. I don’t know if it’s because it means that autumn’s just around the corner (my favorite time of year), or the start of a new season of performances, but I always love this day.
Admittedly, my expectations of the Faroe Islands were fairly low: Just another rock in the middle of the ocean. But it turned out to be a very scenic set of islands that in places resembled the Desert Southwest’s mesas and valleys, but all covered in green. It was quite a nice surprise.
Due to strong winds we had to anchor outside the harbor of Torshavn and tender in. But this time we got an earlier start, there were no crowds and the wait was fairly short. The ride in was a little rockier, but mostly due to an incoming ferry.
The town of Torshavn was the opposite of Lerwick: bright colors and ambling streets. Even trees! The Faroe Islands are an autonomous region within the Kingdom of Denmark, so the language and currency are basically Danish (with Faroese language derived from Old Norse). It’s a trim and tidy little town, and as we made our way through it toward the Avis office, enjoyed the varying architecture, with many houses sporting grass roofs.
The Avis office was about a 20 minute uphill walk away from the harbor, and within minutes of arrival were in a tiny (and somewhat tinny) Kia Alto. Yet, it was easy to drive, and the 5-speed manual was relatively responsive.
The Faroes are actually a chain of 18 islands, 17 of them inhabited. All are volcanic in origin, yet sculpted by glaciers during several ice ages. This carved deep fjords into them, and made for some of that spectacular scenery I mentioned earlier. On the very steep hillsides could be seen many sheep. As a matter of fact, I think we saw far more sheep than people.
We decided to head north on the largest island Streymoy. The roads were in great condition, and well marked. We went through a very long tunnel on the road to Kollafjorƌur (I mean long. It was curved and raw, not tiled, and went on for at least several kilometers). The terraced green fjords were beautiful, as were the small villages that we passed through whose names we attempted to pronounce in our worst accents (sorry, Mike G.).
We crossed a short bridge over the channel of Sundini that divides Streymoy Island from Eysturoy Island, and traveled up and down switchbacks and hills, still enjoying the verdant scenery and endless sheep (who knew they came in so many different colors and patterns?). After about an hour (nearly 70 kilometers), we stopped in village of Runavik. I’m not sure you could call it a village, but it had a number of businesses along the main road.
We stopped at a grocery store and loaded up on some snacks, then walked around the town seeing the few shops and businesses. It was surprisingly quiet for a Thursday, but then again, it was almost the middle of nowhere. We stopped in at another store that had clothes and items for the home. It was a fairly large store (considering its location, and once again we were tantalized by the display of beautifully designed Danish glassware. The people working there were nice, and our lack of Danish didn’t delay any transaction (neither did our debit cards).
We continued down the road until we pretty much hit the end of it near the tip of the island (some very large wind turbines). We saw our ship across way across the water, which I found rather amusing. We went back round on the same route, this time skipping the very long tunnel and taking the main road which went up, up, up to what seemed the highest peak of Streymoy. There were many sheep, but few houses or buildings of any sort. (We saw a photo in Runavik of what the islands look like in winter, and they are seriously covered in snow).
Back down the mountain roads (again, gorgeous views) and we returned the car after putting in 8 liters of gas. 150 kilometers on 8 liters…very sippy of that little engine. All told, we had the car for about three and a half hours and it came to about $100 including gas. Not bad for a very enjoyable outing. There was much more we could have seen, but after finding the town of Torshavn so pleasant, we wanted more time to walk around and see what was what.
We ran into the boys from Zurich (Mario and Beat, pronounced “Bay-aht”) near the tourist information booth, and they were as jovial as ever. After our parting I was feeling peckish, so we stopped at a waterfront coffee house for tasty Panini sandwiches and good coffee. By this time we had seen what we wanted to see and took the tender back to the ship. Farewell, Faroes. I hope it won’t be our last visit…
Comments