As you will see from the photographs, the entire seven night voyage was blessed with the best possible weather, even today, the final full day before disembarkation.
I woke up after a decent sleep last night and once again, peeking through the curtains revealed yet another beautiful day. In fact, those from the U.K. dodged a bullet, as Britain was plunged into a week of much needed wet weather. Leaving Southampton a week ago, a lively thunderstorm could be seen from the aft-end of the ship, safely in the far distance.
I was about to write about our visit to Olden when news broke of the Queen’s unexpected (especially by me) passing, although I was vaguely aware that “things weren’t good.” Although only a small village, Olden is now a popular cruise destination, complete with souvenir and clothes shops, as well as places to eat.
Just like Skjolden is at the head of Lustrafjord, which branches off the Sognefjord, Olden is at the far end of Nordfjord, and offers a variety of attractive options. Two or three nights here (in decent weather) perhaps wouldn’t be enough time to explore thoroughly, and during summer, it is packed with visitors.
I was pleased with the tour I picked, Briksdal Glacier by Troll Car. You travel to an attractive café and tourist centre, The Briksdal Inn, by coach, through more fabulous dramatic scenery with lakes and waterfalls. Coffee and cake were part of the deal. We would then walk to where the “Troll Cars” were stationed, each seating perhaps nine people. Not so long ago, the journey up the steep mountain pass to the Briksdal Valley was in horse-drawn carriages. On arrival at the “terminal” a steep walk would take you to within sight of the Briksdal Glacier which flows 4,000ft down to the Briksdal Valley and lake of turquoise water below.
Again, although warned to dress up warm with waterproof jacket, the sun shone warmly, even so far north and high up.
Eventually, it was time to walk back to the Troll Cars for what would seem the short ride back to near where the coach was parked.
The little town of Olden afforded a joyous noisy send-off as 70s disco music blared out from a pub’s sound system which I couldn’t make out from my cabin. Unknown to anybody on board, I imagine that it was about that time that the news of the Queen’s death was about to become widely known. This was the last picture I took before hearing the news myself.
By now, we were on our way to our final port, Bergen, the very first place I visited abroad in August 1962. I shall write about that, maybe tomorrow.
Many thanks for reading, David, still in the middle of packing, 18.19 hrs, 10/9/22.
David's Cruise 