Norse saga. Part V – Norwegian Blues

Friday 16 August

Pining for the fjords

The rain started just as we arrived at the railway station. It was just as well we weren’t late, as our reserved seats were very much at the distal end of the train. This would have offered photographic advantages, had the rear window not been befouled and filthy. It’s a seven hour trip from Oslo to Bergen, but the journey passes through some spectacular mountainous scenery and glacial valleys. I’m given to wonder what the occupants of the tiny houses dotted all over actually do for a living, outside the tourist season. There were several nutters in the 8°C rain on mountain bikes.

Photo opportunities were distinctly limited because the train’s windows didn’t open and raindrops obscured the view of the low clouds obscuring the mountains.

Mountains and lakes in the rain from the train.

Low clouds and rugged scenery.

However, we rolled into Bergen as the rain just about stopped. It’s better to spend a wet day on the train than in attempting a walking tour.

After a meal that in my case included a pleasantly gamey and slightly chewy whale steak (they were fresh out of panda), we ambled down to the harbour and booked tomorrow’s fjord cruise. Good weather was forecast for tomorrow: I was hoping that this would hold true.

It seemed that schools, or at least universities, were back on Monday, so the town centre was populated by students in fancy dress. Even the hotel had a sign apologizing about the noise of boisterous undergrads in the street late at night. We scored a room whose window didn’t open to the street. The Place to Be seemed to be a nightclub just up the road where there was a massive toga party, if the huge queue of students in bedsheets was anything to go by. Not a single toga in evidence; plenty of chitons and exomides sported by hardy Norwegians clearly very used to standing around half naked in chilly weather.

Saturday 17 August

The alleged good weather seemed to comprise dull and overcast with spots of rain. Bah! Nevertheless, we boarded the MS White Lady, which set off on its fjord cruise spot on schedule at 1000. The upper deck had a retractable Perspex canopy that was predictably not retracted, leaving only a small space at the stern for up to 100 passengers to crowd and take photographs. Most seemed content to sit in the warm on the lower deck and either look out of the windows or play with their smartphones. I resisted using the GPS on my own phone until we were well on our way back to Bergen.

The sun fought a losing battle with the clouds, only appearing for a couple of minutes, whereas the rain was much more successful. Still, between showers I got some pictures of some of Slartibartfast’s award-winning work. The scenery really is stunning.

One of the countless waterfalls.

Fjord view.

Vike church. This is just about as far north as I have ever been.
(Flying over the North Pole doesn't count.)

Looking north along Ostresundfjord.
The cliff continues at the same angle underwater to a depth of several hundred metres.

Looking south along Ostresundfjord

Lonely house. Bet they don't get troubled by many door-to-door salesmen.

A longer cruise may have been a realistic option had the weather been better, but it looked as if most of the sightseers were glad to get off the boat after just over four hours.

Next came shopping in the ancient wooden Bryggen area, the oldest part of Bergen (reconstructed on the twelfth-century foundations after it was burned to the ground in 1702.) The place is all wonky and wobbly, and looks more like Diagon Alley than anything else. Beloved Wife added to her Christmas ornament collection, and then we walked back through the open market and I picked up a pack of sausages: Venison, Whale, Moose, and Reindeer.

Bryggen, or possibly Diagon Alley

Then a little bit of shopping in Bergen’s department stores, where shop assistants were helpful almost to a fault, and back to the hotel with our booty.

Neo-classical atlantes and caryatids adorn many old buildings all over Scandinavia. Here's one of each, clearly caught taking showers.

As the weather had by now improved a little, we sauntered around the old part of the town and eventually found the bottom end of Bergen’s famous funicular railway. It starts with fun and goes up from there. It was windy at the top, but the views were excellent. The souvenir shop was full of the same old tat available at all souvenir shops in Scandinavia: Vikings, trolls, silly hats with antlers, anthropomorphic reindeer, and pelts and antlers from real reindeer.

The funicular railway.

Funicular time-lapse, viewed from the top.

Winter is Coming.

Down the funicular again, and another wander around Diagon Alley and some more shopping, before we discovered a café on an upper floor that had decent views of the harbour but glazing to keep out the wind, rain, and fishy aroma. I had reindeer patties; Beloved Wife chose Norwegian meatballs.

And then we fell into the arms of Morpheus. 

Sunday 18 August

Aargh, rain! Stair-rods all the way from the hotel to the railway station. Just as well, then, that we were able to do our fjord trip and funicular ride yesterday, when the sights were actually visible.

As the train climbed east, the weather tried to improve. I was repeatedly frustrated when trying to take photos of the glacial valleys because, every time I hit the shutter release on my camera, the train dived into one of the countless tunnels. This happened on repeated consecutive occasions. It certainly didn’t feel like a coincidence.

The weather at Finse was completely rain-lashed and foul. Finse, elevation 1222m, is the highest point on the Norwegian (and possibly the entire Scandinavian) rail system. The place is inaccessible by road. Scott (of the Antarctic) and his team trained here.

Nobody stops at Finse except hardy mountain bikers and hikers, military types doing Arctic training, and the cast and crew of Star Wars “Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back.” Yes, in the winter the place was and is the Ice Planet of Hoth.

Mountain bikes to rent. Only the deranged need apply.

The sixth planet in the remote Hoth system is just there, on the right. Known locally as the Hardangerjøkulen glacier

On 18th August 2013, the outside temperature was 6°C.

The weather improved as we headed east, down the mountain towards Oslo. We were treated to some glorious views of huge valleys, lakes, fjords, clouds hanging among the trees in the valleys, and on one occasion a full double rainbow.

Seven hours after setting off, we rolled into Oslo station and found our hotel. Then we grabbed a bite to eat and activated our unused 24-hour public transport cards to explore Oslo’s suburbs by tram. Beloved Wife really didn’t fancy a chilly evening ferry ride. Maybe tomorrow: I’d discovered that our train didn’t leave until 1300.

Monday 19 August

Tram to the Town Hall, which is where the ferries dock and, incidentally, where we listened to Beethoven’s Ninth a few evenings previously. Our 24-hour passes would be good until 2110, so we took the ferry over to the Folk Museum and Maritime Museum stops, but didn’t get off. I was glad I’d previously taken pictures of Oslo fortress because today there was a massive cruise liner docked right outside the fortress, obscuring all views of and from.

We got to the train ridiculously early and boarded. Ended up chatting to an American who was funding her three-month tour of Europe by transcribing the scribblings of the first four US presidents plus Benjamin Franklin into text format. We chatted and offered possibly useful hints regarding where to go and what to see.

The train went as far at Gothenburg (Göteborg in Swedish) where there was about an hour to locate the next train that would take us to Copenhagen. We ran into the same American traveller, and unfortunately a couple of unruly children whose mother seemed incapable of understanding the fundamental meaning of “quiet carriage”. At last she got out and took her noisy brats away.

It occurred to me to check where the train would stop in Denmark. The train would stop at the airport on its way to Copenhagen central, but crucially would also stop at Ørestad, a few hundred metres from our hotel. I saved about half an hour of train and metro this evening, and a further 30 minutes tomorrow morning. A celebratory beer was called for in the hotel bar. Such a pity the room was so basic, minuscule, and with uncomfortable bunk beds and a dysfunctional internet.

Tuesday 20 August

Appallingly early start in order to ensure a timely arrival at the airport. The hotel breakfast was mediocre.

I should note a hard landscaping detail: rough granite flagstones look great and offer excellent skid resistance when wet or icy, but they’re appalling to drag wheeled suitcases along between the station and the hotel, and back again the next morning.

We got airside and tried to obtain our tax refunds on goods purchased in Norway and Sweden, only to be told that the receipts would first have to be stamped by Customs on groundside. This differs from the UK where all this tax refund business has to take place airside. I sent Beloved Wife without any luggage back into the depths of the airport. She was sent from pillar to post in an obvious attempt to avoid paying any refund of VAT, but eventually succeeded and reappeared with a receipt. Huzzah!

The flights were pretty much uneventful. At Dubai airport, the taxi rank has been moved.

And when we got home, one of our rickety air conditioners refused to fire up. Chasing the landlord: something else to add to my ‘To Do’ list.

Welcome back to reality.

Post Script

If we’d booked individual train and ferry tickets on line, cost would have been around $1261. Our EuroRail passes, plus reservation fees, plus cabins on the ferry came to $1168: marginally cheaper, but with Ultimate Flexibility.  We actually used seven of our eight allocated journeys. I guess you pretty much have to max out the ticket in order to make it financially worthwhile.

]}:-{>

Norse saga. Part I - Wonderful Copenhagen

Sunday 04 August

We're both happy to be off on our hols.

The news feeds were busy suggesting that there was likely to be chaos at Dubai airport, so we left early. As if the Authorities would ever tell Joe Public that Terry Taliban was actually going to attack. The taxi arrived 15 minutes earlier than requested, so we made a mad rush from the Crumbling Villa, which was followed by long and tedious queue at DXB to check in to Swiss.

The flight was 30 minutes late departing, which is usually a capital offence in Switzerland, but they never found out at Zürich because it arrived on time: disgustingly early on Sunday morning. We had 40 minutes before our connecting flight took off, naturally from the far end of the airport. We had to do the hand-luggage inspection and passport control too, but got into our seats with minutes to spare.

Final approach to Copenhagen – København in the vernacular – and I got my first ever look at Scandinavia. I could see Sweden out of the aircraft window, just over there near Malmö.

Copenhagen central railway station.

Easy train trip into Copenhagen central station. Beloved Wife spotted our hotel from the train window, and we soon found our way there. But first, we reserved our seats on Wednesday’s train to Stockholm. They charge extra for this, which seems disingenuous. After paying for a ScanRail pass, to be told that reservations are compulsory and at additional cost, seems a little unfair. What’s wrong with You Pay What You See? Anyone remember Fascinating Aïda’s “Cheap Flights”?

And then picked up the charge

For using VISA, which was drastic,

‘cos how the feck you s’posed to pay

If not with fecking plastic?

Speaking of VISA, I also discovered that in Denmark, foreign credit cards attract a charge, in addition to my getting screwed by an unfavourable exchange rate. So much for being the international way to pay.

Anyway, we’d arrived before noon and the room wasn’t ready, so we dropped off our bags and went in search of refreshment. Luckily the sun was over the yard-arm, so a litre or so of Carlsberg and a slice of apple tart later, we unpacked in the room and crashed out for three hours.

It was warm and sunny! Pleasantly so. And Copenhagen is a very bicycle-friendly place, with bikes, cycleways, and bike racks everywhere. During the summer, I’m told the Municipality offers free bikes for a returnable deposit. These have to be taken from one official bike rack and dropped off at another.

Sunday afternoon is quiet in Copenhagen city centre, at least as far as shopping is concerned. And museums are shut on Mondays, so tomorrow it’d the shops and maybe a boat trip around the harbour. Tivoli is a park with a hairy-looking funfair.

That looks high and very scary.

We went up the spiral ramp inside the world’s oldest working observatory and, erm, observed. We observed Copenhagen’s rooftops. Later, we ate Japanese food, and I had yet another large beer. The calorie-controlled diet was going to take a pasting over the forthcoming fortnight. I resolved to try and keep track of what I ate and drank.

Observatory tower.

Round and round we go, seven times.

I can see the Øresund bridge from here. And Von Fresler's Kirke with its spiral spire.

Rosenborg Palace, with irritating factory chimneys in the background.

To my irritation, I couldn’t get the hotel’s internet to talk to my computer. A technician turned up at the hotel room, but when the problem turned out not to be a defective LAN cable he was stumped, as was I. No matter what settings I used, how I configured the firewall, whether I used LAN or WiFi, all made no difference. None of my browsers would talk to the internet. Meanwhile, Beloved Wife’s iPad connected and ran just fine.

Monday 05 August

Another sunny day, and a healthy start with a hearty continental breakfast comprising cereal, bread, yoghurt, eggs, and several types of ham. That should stave off the hunger pangs until mid afternoon.

Beloved Wife suggested that we go and see the Crown Jewels in the Rosenborg Palace. This seventeenth-century edifice in the Flemish style was full of, well I described it as ‘Baroque on Crystal Meth’ all on three floors. And the incredibly ornate Crown Jewels were in the basement.

Ridiculously overdecorated ceiling.

Charles I of England.

Christian IV's crown (1596) is an impressive piece of bling. At one point he pawned it.

Small statue of Herakles (Hercules) giving the centaur Nessus a good hiding for running off with Deianeira.

Yay, a satyr! Chasing a scary-looking nymph.

You don't get female satyrs for ages, then several come along at once. 

The park was green with a mixture of sunny spots and shade, so after Rosenborg we paused a little and then headed off to the Nyhavn canal, which is the trendy waterside bit of Copenhagen that adorns the covers of the guide books. On the way we stopped in a pub that was doing a BOGOF offer on bottles of Carlsberg. Huzzah!

Nyhavn.

An excellent alfresco lunch outside one of the buildings on the cover of the guide book later, and having been serenaded by Lord Petyr Baelish on the guitar, we took one of the long, low, wide tourist boats around the harbour and canals for an hour. I hadn’t realised before that the famous Little Mermaid statue was on the sea front; I’d always assumed that she was perched on a little island in the middle of the harbour.

Littlefinger playing the guitar.

The Little Mermaid and some of her fans.

The cake shop that Beloved Wife wanted to visit after the boat trip was disappointing, but another one that we found on our way back through the pedestrianised city area was much better, and they served beer too.

We decided, having got back almost to the hotel, that visiting the Tivoli Gardens was too much. Instead, we’ll go tomorrow. Today I spent 20 minutes on a machine in the gym before meeting Beloved Wife in the pool. Here, I attempted to burn off more Carlsberg.

Ah, the pool. The hotel is part of a sport and leisure complex, and the pools include a 100m circumference oval pool 1.8m deep for swimming distances, and a rectangular exercise pool in the infield. There are also leisure and diving pools, and a Jacuzzi. However, the management throws everybody out at 2130, so I just had time for fifteen minutes of breast stroke. At an average speed of one lap every six minutes (which is 1km/h) I’m not going to break many swimming records.

This evening, the internet had decided to connect sporadically. It wouldn’t do the LAN thing at all, but from time to time I got a slow WiFi connection. The fact that WiFi worked but LAN absolutely refused to remains a mystery.

Tuesday 06 August

Ugh, it was cloudy this morning. When we emerged from breakfast, it was obvious that we’d missed a light shower of rain. Museums all seemed to open at 1100; we hoped that the rain would go away before we hit the streets.

Not only did the rain go away, so did the clouds. Another glorious sunny day, with a cooling breeze.

The first port of call was the Glyptotek museum. Ground floor was full of statues, mostly from ancient Greece and Rome, but also Egypt. And there were Egyptian grave goods too. Cue the inevitable humming of an eighties Bangles song, and I don’t mean ‘Manic Monday.’ Also on view were Danish neoclassical sculptures and stuff by Rodin and related luminaries. Upstairs, there was a lot of nineteenth and early twentieth century art: mostly oil paintings. And then it was beer o’clock.

Walk like an Egyptian.

Gods and heroes.

Unlikely attire for playing the fiddle, but very well executed.

Must be wine o'clock.

Beloved Wife wanted to visit the Museum of Danish Design. This was up at the northern end of the city, past Nyhavn. Unfortunately the museum was undergoing refurbishment when we visited, and half of it was closed. After looking at twentieth century fabric prints and a lot of chairs, it was time to grab a beer.

I should mention the Bumblebee, a 1934 motorcycle officially called the Nimbus, that had an in-line four cylinder engine and shaft drive.

The Nimbus 1934 is both more practical and more comfortable than a Nimbus 2000.

Having walked the length of Copenhagen, it seemed daft not to go and get a look at the bronze mermaid, along with every other tourist. We wandered past St Albans Church, the ‘English Church’ in Victorian Gothic Revival style, that played ‘Dear Lord and Father of Mankind’ (on tubular bells, by computer, apparently) after the 1700 hour bell. After the obligatory photos of the mermaid statue, we headed back to Nyhavn along the quayside and past an enormous moored yacht that I could never ever hope to afford. The 64m Felicita West, the internet asserts, was up for sale two years ago for a mere $40 million.

Felicita West, currently registered in Douglas IOM.

St Albans church.

Dinner at Nyhavn, and then we headed back along our chariot ruts through the pedestrian precinct and were briefly entertained by buskers.

This guy looked and sounded amazing. His musical instrument is inexpensive, but about as portable as a church organ.

The hang is an eerie-sounding percussion instrument.

In Tivoli, an elderly couple prevented us from watching an open-air stage show by persistently moving and standing in front of us, no matter where we moved, so we gave up and went for a walk around the park.

This walk was brought to an abrupt halt by a Bottom Inspector who insisted on throwing me out because I was barefoot. It seems that it’s not necessary to wear shoes, (otherwise about 30% of the patrons would have had to be ejected), but to have some on one’s person. As I’d schlepped my shoes unused around Copenhagen for two days, and had no problems with broken glass, dogshit, or gaining admission to shops, restaurants, museums, and boats, today I left my camera bag with the shoes in it at the hotel. But “Tivoli is private property.” 

Of course I’m not going to sue Tivoli if I stand on a sharp object, but my promising to take responsibility for my actions was not good enough. Not that there’s a sign, and they were happy to take our money. It’s only explicitly obvious from the signage that Dogs, Roller Blades, and Outside Food and Drink are not allowed. At least we got our admission money back.

Screw you, guys; I’m going home. It was too late to hit the pool, so I showered and fell into bed. The following afternoon we were due on board a train to Stockholm.

]}:-{>