We tend to think of Norway as a long, thin, north-south sort of a country but when you look at a map, you’ll notice it also reaches up and around to the right, passing over the heads of Sweden and Finland, pushing on and on, until it’s forced to stop by the western edge of Russia. And the town of Kirkenes, a mere twelve k’s from the border, is further east than Istanbul. This coastline I’ve long wanted to acquaint myself with and there are two shipping companies that sail the route.
Both companies pitch their ‘voyage’ as a cross between a ferry-trip and a cruise. And they are, I guess, albeit with all of the cost and little of the camaraderie of the latter and not much of the local colour of the former. The major difference, apart from the passengers, between a cruise and a ferry here, seems to be a) the food on offer (gourmet rather than functional) and b) there are some excursions off-ship.
And making the experience more of a ‘cruise’ at least keeps these ships on the water in this age of the air. It’s a memorable journey but nothing like the time I spent a week on the ferry that services the most populous south-east corner of Greenland. But hey, you can’t be the only tourist on each and every trip as I was then. And, admittedly, there are jacuzzis on the Norwegian ships.
On the first ship, one of the Hurtigruen fleet, there were some locals aboard. I think. Two of the groups I could identify looked like flying might simply have been more difficult (although usually cheaper). There was a young couple with a brand-newborn who took up residence for a day or so on a pair of comfy lounges and gazed adoringly at each other, when they could tear their attention away from their child. Their sense of achievement was palpable. And possibly, travelling home by ship put off the time when they’d have to share their off-sping with their families. Another couple took turns trying to amuse a toddler who, if he hasn’t yet been diagnosed with a hyperactive condition, is going to be some time soon. The ship had far more space than a plane does for this lad with waaayy too much energy and vocal chords that sounded like they were about to snap imminently. And there are plenty of places I could go on the ship where he couldn’t be heard. A bar, a cafe and two restaurants for instance. And pretty much the same on the other ship run by Havila, a family-company whose fortune comes from fishing. On-shore we saw more local life, such as this Classic Car Club who seemingly like to show off their cars as the ship goes by (above, right).
On both ships, most passengers’ packages include three meals a day in a large dining room. On Hurtigruten, that’s usually three multi-course buffets a day and while the food was beautifully presented, tasty and nutritious, even a banquet can become repetitive. I must shout out to whoever was making the soups and sauces: the mushroom and the celeriac soups were taste-bombs and the dark gravy, on the days it was served, paired beautifully with the creamed potato. Twice for dinner we had ‘a la carte’ service when delicate morsels featuring local ingredients were daintily arranged on big white plates. I’d never thought of barely as being a local ingredient but apparently it is here. One Aussie couple I met was taking the ship south too, back to Bergen, thus making it an eleven-night trip. (In a ‘small world’ aside: they live in the same street in Sydney as my step-sister). They were thinking they might have over-ordered, so to speak, with the eleven night up-and-back choice but were somewhat placated when the prawns and baby crayfish came out on night five. There were more prawns and baby crayfish the next couple of days too. There are worse ways to put on weight.
On the Havila ship you need to work a bit harder to put on weight. Each meal is a la carte. They serve what they call ‘tapas style’ dishes which really means small. I like that. You get to try more food with less guilt. Although my breakfast waiter did enjoy telling me about the staff’s astonishment at the small boy who recently ate eight pancakes in one sitting. Havila’s menu doesn’t change on a daily basis which means when you order the recommended three to five dishes to satisfy your appetite, you’ve sampled half the menu on the first day. But my meal package also allowed me to order from the cafe: cakes, hamburgers, sandwiches, pizzas and the like.
Of course, the real show on both ships, is the scenery. Below are the gaping cliffs that form Troll Fjord: I wouldn’t have been surprised if the rock had fallen away to reveal giant and menacing trolls coming to take me away (reference: movie Troll, on Netflix. Not recommended because, though it does a good troll, plainly the producers forgot to employ a script-writer).
Then there were the clusters of brightly-painted fishing boats against a backdrop of craggy mountains at each of the 34 ports — lovely!
They like a sphere in the Arctic. There’s one that marks the Arctic Circle on the island Grímsey, north of Iceland. So, too, they like spheres in Norway. There’s one that marks the point where we crossed into the Arctic Circle (left) — they gave me a certificate to prove I crossed it — and one that marks the northernmost point of mainland Europe. The crowd to the right of the sphere is patiently queuing to have their photo taken with it. I am not so patient.
The route is spectacular. I will never forget the towering Loften Islands, the blindingly green grass, the constant play of breeze on gun-metal water, or long, low mountains shrouded in cloud. And then, at this time of year, there is the sun. We were blessed by the weather, assuming you prefer warmth and calmness. And this is where I realise I might have made a mistake. I suspect this voyage would have been not just a good voyage but a great voyage had I done it during winter. In the summer there is the occasional glacier we could see if we really looked (below). But the drama is lessened without ice.
Yes, people in the region are worried about climate change. Several commented that they’ve had three amazingly warm summers in a row. And longer summers than usual. You might think that makes them happy but most residents, I’m told, live here for ‘the nature’ and that means they love the winter (excepting the first week of summer when they appreciate the novelty).
My next stop? Further north, of course, to Svalbard.
