First Rainbows, then Reindeer

                   Written August 3, 2018

Although the May and June  weather in Alicante had been excellent, as it often is, it held a special surprise for us as we left: rain! And a rainbow. 

We were returning to our apartment after a visit to Punta Palo, just south of Alicante, hosted by Teresa, the apartment manager who has become our friend. It had been raining, unusual for this time of year. As we walked along the mirador near our street the sun, on its way down, peeked out from below the storm clouds. The light shone clear and bright on the buildings up the coast: then a stub of rainbow appeared out to sea. It morphed into a double, and up the coast, the far end appeared. (I noted which building; next time in Alicante we'll check for the pot o' gold.)

Double rainbow over the beach in Alicante, Spain

Early, so early the next morning we were on the street, our taxi waiting to take us to the mostly deserted airport. By 6:30 AM we were winging our way north. While I am certainly no fan of early morning plane flights, arriving before noon has advantages. We got settled into our Airbnb in Bergen, Norway with the whole afternoon before us.

             Bergen  (June 7)

As we flew in we were struck by how much the region resembled the Pacific Northwest. Bergen could almost be a stand-in for Seattle (if it were 20 times as big!). In fact, Bergen and Seattle have some kind of official connection, sister cites (or maybe just friends); in a park along the bay that surrounds Bergen we found a totem pole given by the city of Seattle! It was a bit bizarre, traveling so far to stand before this tall totem surrounded by lush greenery.

Greeting sign outside the Bergen airport. I'm still unsure about that "?" ?

A Pacific Northwest totem pole, gift from Seattle, WA!

One bit of good fortune we had was that it was not raining, Paula likes to check ahead for what the weather is doing in places where we will be going. For four months straight, it rained every day in Bergen. In fact, rain is one of Bergen’s claims to fame. Our days there, though, were sunny and bright. In fact, although we didn’t know it at the time, this was the start of a sunny streak that would follow us all the way through Scandinavia, Scotland, and Northern England to London!

I liked Bergen, in spite of the lack of rain J! It has a long history, and was a key element of the trading network build up by the Hanseatic League* in the High Middle Ages. The Norwegians (or whatever the residents were called then; modern Norway was only established early in the 19^th Century) traded cod, an oily fish that could be dried and kept for long periods, an important “feature” in an era with no refrigeration! The original Hanseatic buildings are still preserved on Bergen’s seafront, although we chose not to visit them.

* An early trade and defensive organization that spread throughout Northern and Central Europe in the 13^th, 14^th, and 15^th Centuries. We were to learn more about it in Hamburg.

Bergen's water front; this once was Norway's major port

Of more interest to us was the massive fish market that’s been going strong for several centuries; the funicular climbing the steep hill across the harbor; the amusing local art, and the Teslas!  I saw enough of these electric cars that I began to check license plates to verify I wasn’t seeing the same car over and over, because Bergen really is a small town. I found there are a great many electric cars of various makes. Our Airbnb host explained that the Norwegian government, to encourage the use of renewables, offered free passage to electric vehicles on toll roads. Ah! Then the incentive was removed (and everyone was left wondering, now I’m stuck with this crappy car…).

The fish market. Great meals here at a good (for Norway!) price.

Dried cod is still availabe in the market,but pricey: about $30USD per pound!

We toured the fish market, today given over to tourist restaurants. We skipped the old buildings, and on the day we chose to take the funicular (ride up, walk down, or so we told ourselves!), it wasn’t running. So we hiked up the steep streets for an excellent view across the town and the docks to the fiords beyond. And we found that the hill, forested and natural-looking from the town, is full of tiny roads and interesting homes clinging to the hillside. All in all, we got a really good feeling from cute Bergen! (Although it was sunny, and I kept wondering if I would be as keen on it with the “horizontal rain” our host described, cold and snow, and six hours of daylight instead of the 18 we experienced!).

Bergen really is a cute town. (Many of those cars in the foreground are electric.)

Is this the Argyll Forest? No, just quirky public art...

A couple of things struck me about the locals we saw: many of them had on backpacks – and not little day packs, like ours, but serious outdoor stuff. I expect they were doing errands, and carrying their groceries home, but I like to think on weekends those bags saw heavy use out on the trail. Also, there seemed to be a fair number of people on crutches; mostly young guys who seemed only temporarily affected. I don’t know, but again, I like to think these are the result of “outdoor” accidents: a skiing fall, a slip on the glacier. (Or maybe tripping on the roof of the Oslo opera house?)

Soon we were on the “Nutshell” train, the train that follows the “Norway in a Nutshell” route between Bergen and Oslo, giving a cross-section of the Norwegian countryside. It was a very pleasant seven-hour ride. We splurged for first class, only about $60USD with our senior discount. Free coffee and hot chocolate, large, comfortable seats with plenty of leg room, and quiet, pleasant fellow passengers (not that I would expect any public conveyance in Norway to be a hell-hole!) The mountains we passed through were fantastic, heavily forested with wonderful views (what we could see; half the time was spent in tunnels!).  Once above the tree line things were stark, with sharp peaks still snow-covered in early June, and small settlements alongside very cold-looking waterways. Paula found it strongly reminiscent of the Alaskan tundra; not surprising, since we were at about the same latitude. Once in the flats the countryside was pleasant but less interesting: gently rolling hills and green pastures.

Oh, one thing that struck us as a huge negative in Bergen and Norway in general: the high cost of food and especially alcohol. We paid 49 Krone for a can of beer in a store, about $6USD. A few days earlier we had been paying less than a third of that for una cerveza, seated in a restaurant!

Heavily forested hills on the "Nutshell" route to Oslo

A bit further up in the mountains. Snow and ice in early June, around a pristine lake.

             Oslo  (June 9)

We both liked Oslo, a clean simple city, full of lively people and impressive public art works. We were given to understand that Norway was a very poor country for much of its existence, being passed around between Sweden and Denmark for a few centuries. In the mid-1800’s as much as one-third of the population emigrated elsewhere looking for a better life, much like Ireland. And, of course, many of those dirt farmers ended up in North American, providing one American story teller with endless tales of Norwegian Bachelor Farmers.

The discovery of oil in the North Sea changed all that, and Norway is now a very rich country (in addition to the Teslas, there are plenty of Porsches and Mercedes on the roads). But its past poverty means its traditional ceremonial buildings (the palace, the cathedral, stuff like that) are quite simple and understated – overall, architecture in Oslo is rather bland, compared to other, older, European capitals. Meanwhile, there is now a huge construction boom on, with cranes dominating the sky along the waterfront – to some controversy, of course.

The Stenersnmuseet, Oslo's Museum of Fine Arts. Public sculptures in the foreground.

The Oslo opera house is fantastic. Made of white Carrera marble, from afar it’s distinctly reminiscent of a glacier. We only briefly saw the magnificent interior on our way to the roof, which is open to the public. People swarm over the steeply-slanted stone, as did we, looking over the harbor (and forest of construction cranes) with an ever-changing perspective. And I got to thinking: a place like this in the US would shut down in a few weeks, burdened with “slip and fall” lawsuits. But Norwegians are a hardy lot, used to taking risks while engaging in the many activities available in their rugged countryside. (And they know, if you fall off a glacier, it’s your own damn fault!)

Opera house roof and hikers. Note the construction going on behind!

A cute back street in Oslo that almost got ripped out for highway construction.

The Akershaus Fortress, overlooking the harbor (behind us)

View of the harbor from the Opera House roof.

Although we are not big museum goers (“moments, not monuments!”), we did take the effort to get to the Viking Ship Museum, where three of the best-preserved Viking longships are on display, along with numerous other Viking artifacts. The displays are fantastic, and the short video of Viking exploration and conquest was very well done. We were thrilled to see these ancient ships used for some pretty amazing voyages – those Norsemen really got around, from North America to the Baltic and inland to the Black Sea, and south to the Mediterranean. (Norse settlements in the north of France – Normandy – ultimately were to have a huge impact on English history and language.)

The Viking ship museum. Fantastic!

Intricate carvings on the ships prow. (Those Vikings were poetic and sensitive...)

But our time in Oslo was short; in only a couple of days we moved south to Sweden’s capital, Stockholm.

Paula watches the beginnings of a beautiful sunset in Oslo... at 10PM!

Public sculpture by Norway's premier sculptor, Gustav Vigeland. Imaginatively titled "Mann og Kvinne" (Man and Woman)

Vigeland Park, a huge park full of sculptures by Gustav Vigeland. Quite, quite remarkable!

At Last in London

1 August 2018     Wednesday

We’re in London! Yeah! And why am I so happy to be in London? Well, it is a major world capitol, with lots of cool stuff. And that’s a good reason to be glad to be in London.

Here's a couple of photos of our new digs. We're in the Notting Hill district of west London (we watched that movie last night. I got all I needed out of the first five minutes). It's a very cute area, reminiscent of certain Victorian neighborhoods in San Francisco (built in the time of Queen Victoria... gee, who copied whom?) 

Home for the next month. That's our garrett window on the top right.

View out our garrett window as night falls over London...

But that’s not the immediate reason I’m content to be here. I am pleased to be in London because it marks the end of our eight-week odyssey that started the first week of June, in Bergen, Norway. We traveled by train and bus to the Seven Cities, then flew from Amsterdam to Glasgow and drove for two weeks through Scotland, including several days on the incomparable Isle of Skye, ending with a week in Edinburgh. Then a week in England’s Lake District, a couple days each in Newcastle on Tyne and York (dripping with history), and finally to here, the capital of capitals. Now we have a whole month to explore, and -- finally -- to digest all that has happened since leaving Spain.

Lots of catching up to do, certainly. Since we left Alicante on June 7^th we’ve been on the road for 55 days, and have visited seven countries with 18 stops of two nights or more. Two thousand miles by plane, 1100 by train, almost 1200 by car (all on the wrong side of the road, note!), 390 by bus, and 22 by ferry (to and from Iona in Scotland). Oh, plus an average of over 10,000 walking steps per day for each of us (around 4‑1/2 miles average; some days much more!) So, yeah. Glad to be in one spot for a while.

In the coming weeks we’ll be writing blogs on Scandinavia and the incredible Nordic light (not the northern lights; that’s even further north, and a wintertime phenomenon), Hamburg, Amsterdam, and Edinburgh, for starters. Plus I imagine we’ll be talking about London some, too.

In the meantime, some representative photos of what we're calling the Seven Cities...

Bergen, Norway, our first stop

The stunning Oslo opera house. Or maybe a glacier? 

Stockholm

Gothenburg, Sweden, very much a sea-going city!

Copenhagen

Hamburg was a real surprise. This part of the Miniatur Wunderland, an astonishing model of much of the world, accurately recreates Hamburg's warehouse district (the Wunderland itself is in the second building from the right).

And finally, Amsterdam. What else needs to be said?

We Walk the Wall

27 June 2018

Running clear across Britain from east to west is an old Roman wall, known as Hadrian’s Wall. Built in the 2^nd Century AD (finished around 127), it marked the northern boundary of the Roman Empire in Britain. It apparently served to tame those unruly Scots and Picts, and may also have been used to control traffic and commerce to and from the Roman areas (making sure taxes were paid and duties collected). Now a UNESCO World Heritage site, it is the largest Roman artifact in Britain (and maybe in the world).

I first heard of Hadrian’s Wall in connection with (I have to admit it!) George RR Martin’s “A Song of Fire and Ice,” better known as Game of Thrones. It is likely the inspiration for The Wall, a massive ice fortification to keep the People of the North out of Westeros. (The more I travel and learn about history and geography, the more I admire Martin’s ability to crib from things that actually happened to create his stories!)

Hadrian’s Wall, the real one, runs some 75 miles through beautiful countryside. It is now accompanied by a hiking trail, the Hadrian’s Wall Path. When we were in the Lake District two years ago we visited several parts of the wall by car. This time around, I really wanted to get back and hike a bit more along it. So yesterday was our Hadrian’s Wall day.

View from the car park

Wall climbs up the hill. Those Romans!

We drove about an hour and a half north and east to a conveniently-located car park that gives easy access to the Path. We paid the fee (£2 per hour; it’s hard to find a place to park anywhere in England that’s free) and got started. It was satisfying to hike on the same trail we’d been on in 2016; even more satisfying to get past where we’d had to stop before. We made it to the place called Sycamore Gap, a low spot between two hills, where a magnificent tree (presumably a sycamore) is growing. This tree was awarded the English Tree of the Year award in 2016 (where but England would we find a Tree of the Year award?). It’s claimed to be the “most photographed tree in England.”

A romantic view of the tree (from Getty Images, I'm told)
https://metro.co.uk/2016/12/18/tree-of-the-year-winners-are-pretty-spectacular-6331190/

My own view of the tree in Sycamore Gap

Much as I would have liked to keep going along the trail, it wasn't long before we had to turn back. The day before (our first in the Lake District) we’d done some ambitious climbing just outside our door in Braithwaite, and my legs were feeling every one of the 1200 feet we’d climbed up (and down!). Plus, it was threatening rain. So, we headed back.

Along the way we continued to admire the wall itself. Almost 1900 years old, and much diminished (stones were taken for other projects over the centuries; and why not, since they were just sitting there for the taking and so much easier than cutting and hauling more stone?). Now barely head high, it was a good 10 feet in height and 8 to 10 feet wide when built; most likely there was a walkway along the top for sentries. Every mile or so along the wall were “mile castles,” towers for observation and signaling, and every five miles a garrison. (And how far was a “mile”? One thousand Roman Legion steps; mille in Latin, from which we get, yeah, mile.)

The wall: taller than Paula!

Mile Fort 39 -- or what's left of it

It’s difficult for me, from my soft 21^st Century perspective, to even conceive of how such a massive thing could have been built, and in just a couple of years. It was made from local limestone, and the stones were cut so uniformly and placed so well. Quite a piece of work! (I’m not sure I could even lift one of those stones!)

Lots of very even, carefully placed stones

We got back to the car just as the rain started (it seems it always happens like that), so we left feeling both gratified and a bit disappointed – there is, after all, so much more to see! We took refuge at a pub nearby, the Twice Brewed Inn, had some coffee and biscuits and thought about getting back up here sometime. There are groups that walk the whole length of the wall, from coast to coast, over a period of five or seven days. Paula spoke to the desk clerk at the Inn as a man brought in packs and bags from hikers who would be arriving later, to spend the night after a long day on the trail. And yes, there is a network of inns and hotels all along the wall, and companies that will move baggage between them, so hikers can focus on hiking. Our wheels started spinning… there’s so many possibilities!

 

A much-deserved rest at Twice Brewed

So, I guess this kind of overcast is pretty standard, then?

 “Once its construction was finished, it is thought to have been covered in plaster and then whitewashed: its shining surface reflected the sunlight and was visible for miles around.”

                        --- https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hadrian%27s_Wall

         "...reflected the sunlight and was visible for miles around." Gosh, that sounds like another wall I heard of!


up next: End of the week we leave for Newcastle for two days; then York for two days; then to London for the month of August. Awesome!

Over the Bridge to Skye

If that title seems a bit familiar, it’s a modified version of the last line of the Outlander theme: “…over the sea to Skye.” The words were penned by Robert Louis Stevenson, a solid Scot from Edinburgh, which he set to a traditional Scotch tune.

15 July 2018

We’ve just arrived in Edinburgh, Scotland’s capital and second largest city. Back to hard-paved streets and noisy traffic in narrow canyons between tall stone buildings. Ah, but Edinburgh does indeed seem like a fine city. There’s a lot going on, with the streets full of shops and busy engaged (and engaging!) people. And we have yet to make it to the Old Town, where the good stuff is. We will do more exploring tomorrow; we’re staying here for a week, let's not rush things!

The last couple of weeks have been lovely, though, being away from the noise and traffic. Since arriving in Bergen, Norway on June 7 we’ve been in a series of major cities (the Seven Cities, we’re calling them). Now, for the last two weeks we’ve been in the Highlands and Islands of Scotland, delightfully rural and picturesque. We started in Glasgow, flying in from Amsterdam, to start our 90-day out-of-the-EU period. We picked up a car at the airport, and have been auto touring since. From Glasgow in the south we drove past Loch Lomond to spend a few days in Oban, a small but popular town on the west coast. From there we caught a ferry to the Isle of Mull and a quick drive across it to catch another ferry to Iona – but I think we’ve already talked about Iona.

Once back in Oban, where the ferry left us, we headed north, past Fort William and west again to the Skye Bridge. Intrigued as I am by the idea of a bridge leading to the sky, this bridge took us across the water to more land; specifically, the Isle of Skye. We’d planned a couple of days in the south of the island, and a couple more in the north. Now having been there I realize we could have stayed much longer! There are endless rolling vistas, twisting roads, blue water, green hills, brown beaches. And sheep. Everywhere, sheep. It’s what they do, in the highlands and islands. And the summer lambs are big enough to wander on their own, but still close to mama. (Or is that maaaaaammmma!)

We didn’t know what to expect, on the Isle of Skye. My research had turned up a number of hot photo spots to visit, but as usual, the reality never matched the photos. It was much, much better!

The first spot we went to, called Sligachan, was very crowded. Huge weekend crowd, we thought. Rare sunny day, everyone getting out. Cars parked along the road all the way to there. Ah, but we soon found this was not just any day; this was the day of the annual foot race, up a 2000 foot mountain. It was a charity event, and a very popular one: we were told there were something like 250 entrants, plus all the support folks – family and friends – to see them go. Once the runners were off – and we watched, astonished, as the runners shot up the face of this distant cinder cone – we started exploring the trails that started at race headquarters, a well-established hotel.

See that tiny stream of white in the lower third? That's the runners, headed for the top. And back!

It didn’t take long until we were out of sight of the hotel, and the cars, and all the people. We headed over the low rolling hills towards the south, and the endless, open green country broken by rolling hills. Since we weren’t prepared for an extended hike we didn’t go far, but a check with the map showed this trail ran for some 14 miles, to the south tip of Skye. Fabulous! Maybe someday we’ll be back…

 

Fourteen miles to the south end of the island.

Awaiting the runners return on the bridge at Sligachan

Our next outing was to the lighthouse, the Neist Point Lighthouse, built to guide ships passing between Skye and the Ulst islands to the west. This is one of the featured points on Skye, shown in all the tourist brochures, so we didn’t what to miss it. Getting there involved some very narrow roads, up and over those rolling hills through endless grazing land. And sheep. Always sheep. While we’d gotten pretty good at the Scottish single-track roads, with the periodic passing places that require levels of cooperation between oncoming drivers that is rarely seen in the US, these roads had a new wrinkle: blind summits. Bit of a white knuckle experience: driving on a one lane road, coming over a hill not knowing what may be on the road coming towards us! We had some interesting encounters, but nothing traumatic.

We soon made it to the coast, encountering the long trail of cars parked along the road well before we got to the cliffs overlooking the ocean. We hiked along the paved road to the trailhead, and then down down into the valley and up the other side until we could see the lighthouse, far below.

View from the car park; the lighthouse is hidden by the cliff

Paula contemplating the long descent to the lighthouse

The lighthouse is a complex of buildings, well below the cliff where we were standing. We invoked our oft-repeated manta, “what goes down must come up,” and decided not to actually visit the lighthouse itself. After all, we were on the hill overlooking the jagged, rugged coast of Skye. The seas were calm today, lapping at the base of enormous cliffs, the sky above blue and white. Why ruin that with pointless physical effort? Paula headed back, I stayed, but instead of heading down to the lighthouse, I started climbing further up the hill we were on. I was quickly passed by a couple of boys, 10 and 12 or so. I asked if they were going to the top. They barely paused to say, yes. How could I stay behind?

Me, at the top of the cliff 

Classic view of the Neist Point Lighthouse

View back toward the car park.Cars are visible at the far right, top

The boys were soon joined by their mother, and I made a long slow climb of it to allow them to enjoy their time at the top. I arrived just as they were leaving, and the mother offered to take my photo. So, I’ve got that moment! After a brief rest, and time for a 360 degree photo, I headed back down. And then back up out of the valley to the car park above. Then we started the long slow drive back, stopping now and again to check out the sheep.

 

Sheep guarding the road to the lighthouse

We wait in a passing place for traffic to clear. Sheep are doing what they do: eat.

The Old Man of Storr is a famous rock formation rising above a valley and is on the must-photograph list for the Isle of Skye. The road to this venue was better, and the string of cars parked along it even longer.

We made it to the base of the formation, from which the shape of the rocks can be examined. (Yes, we made it, along with a passel of families with 6 and 7 year old kids. OK, so I guess it wasn’t quite that tough…). After taking the requisite photos Paula was ready to head back, but the trail – and many of the visitors – climbed further upward. So did I…

At the base of the Old Man of Storr

View to the north, back down the trail

Eventually we got to the top and to the endless views across the top of Skye to the sea and further islands beyond. Stunning! I found these landscapes, blending into seascapes, more satisfying than the iconic photos of the Old Man I had seen. It was worth the extra effort!

Looking out from the peak to the distant ocean

Looking back down at the Old Man

That afternoon we headed for the Quiraing – the name derives from Old Norse brought by the Vikings, as do many place names in this part of the world – along a desolate single-track road between the tiny communities of Brogaig and Uig. Right from our arrival at the car park it was clear this place was special, even after all the extraordinary landscapes we’d seen. As we hiked along I mulled over what the signboard at the trailhead said: 8^th & 9^th century Highlanders hid their cattle in the folds of these mountains to keep them from Viking raiders. It gave a further poignancy to my hike, as I negotiated the narrow trail cut into the steep cliff, black rock rising above me to the left; and to the right, a steep drop opening to the coastal plains and the flat ocean beyond.

View from the trailhead out over the Quiraing

We didn't have to go far for this perspective

View of the trail. I made it to the "notch"

I went up and over, the trail went down and around...

But again, we had not planned to devote a full day to these explorations. Eventually I came to a narrow pass between cliffs (was this were the cattle were hid? I kept wondering) and decided it was time to return. I added a stone to the cairn slowly built up by previous decades of hikers and turned back, the trail a thread reaching into the distance.

Sheep 

So now we're in Edinburgh, in the Lowlands. In a few days we'll get another car and head further south to the Lake District in Northeast England, and eventually to London for the month of August. Maybe then we'll have a chance to catch up to the month of June...