Days 1 to 3: Our memories of Bergen, on this occasion, are mostly moist but, down the deserted Bryggen, there were traces of the snow that had been as the skies threatened more to come:
The dark clouds stayed with us for the days that followed as the seas became more lively overnight. Down on deck 3 you could hear and feel the high waves slap against the hull in short sharp thuds. As the ship rolled from port to starboard or pitched from bow to stern, vivid, lively dreams filled the unconscious mind; mostly to do with falling. At Torvik and Alesund the skies became heavier still while the northern horizon looked less inviting than Mordor:
There was snow at high altitudes but nothing falling at sea-level; nothing until we reached Trondheim when it arrived in a gusting blizzard. Braving the swirling snows we headed ashore as cars with studded tyres spiked the tarmac and continued at speeds that would invite prosecution in the UK – they are prepared and capable in these northern climes.
At the head of the town, away from the river, we found Trondheim Christmas Market. The highlight was a Sami tent whose smoky interior was bedecked in furs, benches, Christmas lights and wood burning fires. Hot dark coffee in a womb-like interior made this the perfect place to hibernate as thick snow fell from a grey-black sky – memories are made of this (the second image definitely sparkles):
(click on the images to enlarge)