Hurtigruten norsk tur: Andre del

Our second full day of cruising. After sailing overnight from Kristiansund, we docked at Trondheim for 6 hours (6am until noon) and spent the afternoon and most of the evening getting to Rorvik. We left Rorvik just after 9 pm and were scheduled to have a few short stops at ports during the night. The route had us threading between various islands rather than being out in the open sea, a good thing for those who are not too keen on lumps and bumps. I'll write more about the logistics of the boat later on but, suffice to say for now, it is very relaxing and well organised. By the time we wake up in the morning, we should have crossed into the Arctic Circle and have entered latitudes where we would expect to see the Northern Lights. Our cabin intercom is on permanently so that we get the (optional) notification if and when they are on display.

The Finnmarken alongside the dock at Molde. Not a lot to see in Molde. We were only there for thirty minutes or so and didn't have time to explore in depth. For future reference: the High Street has a branch of Boots.

A multi-coloured ferry heading to (or from) who knows where. But we do know when. And which Hollies song have I just alluded to? Come on, pop lovers, it's not a heavy question. Ooops, what a clue.

Nidaros Cathedral in Trondheim Built over the site of the grave of Saint Olav, the king of Norway in the 11th Century, who became the Patron Saint of his country. It dates from 1070 to 1300 and is the northernmost medieval cathedral in the world. I'm not sure what I was expecting but the interior was a very pleasant surprise. It was like entering two massive halls. I was impressed.

The cathedral had a 'no photographs' policy so what you see here are all illicit images. Not that that makes them any the less enjoyable. The young lady to the left? She was a juggler and was joined by three or four other jugglers. We presumed they would feature in the service which followed. Perhaps in the sermon? Was there a Parable of the Four Jugglers? Or the Return of the Prodigal Juggler?

The mediaeval Chapter House, with two painted reliquaries in the facing wall.

A carving made by a Sami artist. It's made of polished elm and the central figure is encircled by carvings of Sami symbolism. Just after this I was told off for taking photographs, which was just after I was told off for wearing a hat and spikes on my boots. It was my turn for the naughty chair.

The cathedral graveyard looking rather sombre under a covering of snow.

Nidaros Cathedral in all its splendour. I wonder how many Europeans from 'down south' were enticed to come along and help with the building? I'm pretty certain that local skills would have had to have been supplemented with those more expert in building cathedrals.

Merchants' houses viewed from the Old Town Bridge (Gamle Bybro or Bybroa). It, the bridge, was built in 1681, at the same time as much of the old town was reconstructed after a fire. It has undergone many changes over the years and is now one of the tourist attractions of the town. Within 5 miles of us at home, we've got at least three bridges dating from around 1450. No-one considers them to be tourist attractions: they are just old bridges over which you drive to wherever - even Devon, if you must.

Sorry! Some things just bring out the schoolboy in me. Google Translate tells me that it means 'look' in English. How boring but I bet it's given hordes of British tourists much amusement.

Downtown Trondheim on a busy Sunday morning. Deserted but a very pleasant place to walk around. Despite the eye-watering prices of food and drink, there seemed to be no end of places to get both.

And it's goodbye to Trondheim on the northern leg of our trip. We do call in again on our way back down south but I doubt that we'll be getting up that early to revisit the town.

 

Seascapes everywhere. Which, thinking about it, is hardly surprising as we are on a boat surrounded by, err, sea.

One thing I like about views is that they are constantly changing..

Essentially the same view as above but with the sun highlighting a mountain and making a feature of it. Thirty seconds and it was gone, receding into the distance.

The Kjeungskjaer Lighthouse, at the mouth of the Bjugnfjorden, which leads to Trondheim. It's the only octagonal lighthouse in Norway and is known as, you guessed, the Red Lighthouse. It's been automatic  since the late 1980s and can now be rented as a holiday let. Apparently the top floor is called the 'Honeymoon Suite' and has a toilet that is flushed by sea water that you have to carry up many flights of steps. Not sure Mrs P would have considered this an acceptable alternative to our one-nights' honeymoon in Salisbury in 1988. Only joking, it was 1970.

The Red Lighthouse looking more like the Black Lighthouse. It's built on the last of a group of skerries that effectively close off most of the mouth of the fjord, making navigation rather tricky before the days of radar, GPS and sonar. And whatever other aids our jolly captain has at his disposal.

OK, I know all about the desirability of generating energy from renewable resources. And the coastline of Norway is an ideal place to locate wind turbines. But, but, but...I can't get over the fact that they are, to my eyes, ugly intrusions, generally into a pristine landscape. Unsightly but necessary. Sigh! Before anyone reminds me about electricity pylons (you know who you are), why would you expect me to break the habit of a lifetime by being logical and consistent?

Sunset - not the Northern Lights. The Western Lights, in fact.

More Western Lights.

All along the coastline, there are little villages, clustered around a landing stage and, in a lot of cases, a fish processing 'factory'. With no visible roads leading to most of them, the importance of travelling by sea is a given. To such places, the advent of satellite and internet communications must have been community-saving.

And now a bit of flim-flam. There we are to the right on the bow of the Finnmarken. Mrs P is waving to the  world via a webcam. Unfortunately the world was otherwise engaged. Maybe we'll try again: maybe we won't. World, you had a chance and you may have blown it.