A Day in Bergen, Norway

Since visiting Sweden, Finland, and Denmark 4 years ago we've been hoping to complete our tour of Scandinavian/Nordic countries by traveling to Norway and Iceland. Timing it during the two weeks when we could miss the conventions of both political parties was pure happenstance but made us feel like travel geniuses anyway.

During this trip there was much less rushing around large cities and more taking in magnificent vistas and mystical landscapes. This trip was all about the views. Our first stop was Bergen, Norway and our first priority was obtaining tickets to ride the Funicular to the top of Mount Floyen.

If you are headed to Bergen and want to do this (it's a must, really) you buy your tickets at the visitor center. And do it first thing in the morning. Race there, in fact. We arrived very early and didn't have to wait at all. When we came back down the line was out the door and down the street quite a long way. Given that proposition it is also walkable and would definitely be worth the effort. You don't want to spend your day in this charming town waiting in line.

When you get to the top the views are breathtaking. There are some shops, bathrooms, and a restaurant. There is even a playground  with a troll.

There are trolls everywhere in Norway.

We got some beautiful photos before a fog rolled in and completely caused this beautiful sight to disappear in a haunting mist.

After you take in the spectacular scenery meander around a bit. We happened upon a magical wood.

If you are an adult and your faith in fairies and elves is flagging, Norway is the cure for that.

Just when you are sure magical forests only exist in storybooks...

and trolls aren't real...

stepping into a mystical forest will make you rethink your cynicism.

Surely there is a hobbit or two here somewhere.

The trees towered overhead in a thick mist and a carpet of moss absorbed our voices. We spoke in hushed tones though no other travelers had followed us here.

So often, just steps away from a busy tourist attraction, there is an unexplored gem that most people miss. Take time to wander away from the crowds. Walk around the corner. Follow a hidden path just to see where it goes. You may just find magic

10 Reasons for Visiting Scandinavia in Summer

It's summer which is all about palm trees, bikinis, and tropical drinks with umbrellas. Unless you aren't a real fan. Since I'm a gardener and beekeeper the season certainly has advantages but secretly I find myself longing for chilly nights by the fire with an Irish coffee. So while lots of folks head to the beach for their summer vacation my husband and I headed to Copenhagen and from there to Norway and Iceland with a couple of friends.

Here's a list of reasons why it's a fantastic travel option in summer:

1. Charming scenery and quaint vignettes. In case you don't want one more travel photo of palm trees and sand.

2. Gardens and flowers that thrive in a cool rainy climate. I'll be doing a whole post about gardens later but while things at home are wilting in triple digit heat it was refreshing to stumble upon sweet  flowers and delicate plants.

3. The quality of the fruit.  These rasberries and blackberries were massive. In Europe you can be pretty sure your food hasn't been tampered with in that all American GMO Frankenberry way that our FDA approves of.

4. Mystical forests. In the Southeastern US a summer walk in the woods is fraught with real dangers and minor annoyances. From poisonous snakes to ticks and mosquitoes there are a lot of things to ruin a lovely walk including sweltering heat. We found this forest at the top of a mountain in Norway and I don't think any natural place has ever enchanted me more. Okay except for the inside of a bee hive.

5. The seafood. It's everywhere and in all forms from fresh lobsters to crab paste in a can to caviar in a tube.

6. The friendliness of the people.  The backstory to this photo is that as we were walking around this fish market in Bergen, Norway the song from the speakers providing the soundtrack was Song of the South by Alabama. That's right--as in

                                                             Song, Song of the south
                                                 Sweet potato pie, and I shut my mouth
                                                             Gone, gone with the wind
                                                 There aint no body looking back again

When we asked this guy about it he said that everyone in Norway loves country music. My favorite thing about travel is always a broken stereotype. 

7. You can wear your sunglasses at night. Literally. As our cruise ship left Copenhagen we had our last dark night for the next 10 days. It was cloudy during this entire trip so while it never got dark we also never saw any actual sunshine. It's a bit disorienting but you get used to it.  This picture was taken at midnight after crossing the Arctic Circle off the northern coast of Iceland.

 8. You can give your winter clothes a vacation. Your sweaters and scarves will be so happy to get out of storage for a few days! And when you get home you don't have to rush to do the laundry. You won't be wearing these cloths again until fall.

9. Everyone--and I mean everyone-- speaks English. You won't find signs or printed materials in English for the most part in Norway and Iceland, but you won't have any trouble communicating. No one is really dressing like this but the people of Renavik, Faroe Islands put on a street show with music and traditional folk music and dancing. See No. 6.

 10. You can take a break from sunscreen.  You won't be needing it. You can leave the insect repellent home too. You'll need that room in your suitcase for an extra hat and a pair of gloves for chilly July days.

Remember the Bizarro episode of Seinfield? This is the vacation version. And it was fantastic!

Happy travels! 

Beautiful Details

Some of my favorite things are books and some of the places I just wanted a few more minutes (okay, hours) were libraries and book stores. In Scotland one of the things that most surprised me was that I saw several men wearing kilts. Not as any kind of costume but with coats and ties, briefcases in hand.

The French know how to do lunch. These were the drinks included with our meal in Normandy along with coffee at the end which came with a little square of dark chocolate to melt into it. 

 One thing I always like is a silly photo op. In Invergordon, Scotland I couldn't resist this one since I was wearing yellow and all...

My love of post boxes is legendary. I'm sure people often wonder what in the world I'm doing.

Sometimes "things" just catch my eye.

 I got an entire blog post out of this beautiful picture of rocks on the coast of South Queensferry, Scotland. I even got a blog post out of this picture: Lessons from a Rocky Shoreline.

I discovered something amazingly delicious. A strawberry-lime cider brewed in Sweden. It's the kind of thing the offer you in pubs when you aren't fond of beer.

 I love this quote by C.S. Lewis in a bookstore on the Royal Mile in Edinburgh. You could see the castle from where we sipped our coffee.

Am I the only one who thinks this is actually the really practical thing for men to be wearing...(ahem) comfort wise?

I happened into this library in Belfast with famous authors in stained glass above all the windows. Charming. 

Another picture from Trinity College Library. (sigh)

Several areas had up these cheerful banners and they just made me happy, which I'm sure is the point.

Another post box. (swoon)

The Beatles, Braveheart, and the Greatest Generation

Leaving Dublin, we sailed across to Liverpool,  the the next stop on our magical mystery tour. I'd booked a Beatles tour and we were met at the ship's terminal by our taxi driver, Rob. A knowledgeable and affable fellow.  Our 3 hour tour included stops at the childhood homes, Penny Lane, Strawberry Field (actually a girls' orphanage where John use to climb a tree to watch them undress), the church with Eleanor Rigby's grave out back, the church where John and Paul first met, and endless trivia and stories shared by our cabbie. Naturally between locations he played the song that best connected to our next stop.

 I was fascinated by the fact that Paul claims he made up the name Eleanor Rigby, that he'd never seen the gravestone or heard the name at all. That her name on that marker is a coincidence. Yet, given what we know about how much information the brain takes in that we are unaware of it seems very likely he saw it at some point and registered it in some unconscious way.

Then it was on to Glasgow, Belfast,  Edinburgh, and Invergordon:

  

There is one stop left on the places list, Normandy. As if to match your post about your visit to Arlington National Cemetary, I have the transatlantic companion. There aren't really any words to describe the feeling of the place. But my experience was profound in ways I didn't expect.  Beaches famous for fierce fighting and massive loss of life are now strewn with running children spending the day by the sea with sunbathing parents. Photos of beautiful landscapes marred by barbed wire. A carousel at the site of more heroic deeds and loss of life. 

 Arromanches-les-Bains (Gold Beach on D-Day) 

At Normandy American Cemetery

 Omaha Beach. The tour buses are lined up and tourists, mostly of a certain age visit the site and read the memorials. Pictures are taken, with no one exactly sure whether or not it is appropriate to smile in them. It seems like a sacred place.

Then just beyond where you see that stone monument there are steps going down to the beach. It took me by surprise to see these happy French families enjoying a holiday, children running and playing, parents laughing, sunning. I stood on the steps and looked up at older tourists, mostly American, pointing and discussing the historical significance of the place. I looked down and saw what could easily have been any beach in the world. I wondered what those men who died here would think of that. I could imagine that they might tell us that was exactly what they'd fought here for. After all what better memorial could there be than those free French children. I couldn't help but think that if they are aware of it, it would surely make them smile.

 The following pictures are taken in and around the machine gun nest at Pointe du Hoc:

Oh, the Places You'll Go!

This week we move on from people to places. A story best told with the use of pictures:

Our first stop was the Isle of Guernsey, where we visted The Little Chapel and the German Underground Hospital. Both were made famous in the book, The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society. Then it was on to Cork and Blarney castle. I didn't kiss the stone (who would really want me to have more of the gift of gab?) but was intrigued by the Poison Garden. They were growing marijuana and opium in it along with things like hemlock and wolfsbane. After a train ride back to Cobh (pronounced Cove) we happened upon a regatta and festival complete with an Irish rock band and crusty old fishermen bringing in their catches of the day. Ours was the last big ship of the season and so lots of townspeople and festival goers came down to the dock to wave as we sailed away. There were even ladies in turn of the century dresses and a band that played Anchors Away. Here's what I saw as we headed out to sea:

We awoke the next day to the industrial side of Dublin. I had 3 things on my list for this day. The Trinity College Library, St. Patrick's Cathedral, and the Old Jameson Distillery. But my main mission: that Library. After waiting an hour and a half we paid and the first part of the building is dedicated to the Book of Kells.  It was interesting but the library was tugging hard at my heart. When I finally got inside I was completely overjoyed. The space reminded me of a cathedral of wisdom. A church of the written word. I was reminded of the verse from Proverbs 4, Sell everything and buy wisdom! Part of me wanted to sit down in a corner someplace and cry for all the things I will never know.

What are you going to do after such an experience? Well, it's Ireland so head to a pub of course. And then to a church because...well, again, it's Ireland. :)

St. Patrick's was another overwhelming experience. Jonathon Swift and his wife are buried in the floor. One of the most interesting things to me was the Door of Reconciliation.   Next it was on to the Jameson Distillery, then a bit more walking before catching a cab back to the ship. 

Up next: Liverpool, Glasgow, Belfast, Edinburgh, and Invergordon.