Blog 837 Bergen, and the Final Sea Day.

Written after arriving home, two days later.

This is meant to be a travel blog!  What do I write about? The lousy sleep I had the night before!  I suspect this time, I wasn’t the only person with insomniacal tendencies.  And as I lay awake as if I had drunk a coffee plantation, I had more or less resolved to abandon the excursion to the Edvard Grieg resistance, Troldhaugen.  But when the morning came, I figured a piano recital of Grieg’s music in the futuristic concert hall in the composer’s grounds was too good an event to let slip by.  Judging by how full both coaches were, I doubt if anybody else cancelled their booking either.  It was another beautiful warm day, and Bergen came across as thriving and prosperous.

Little bits did seem vaguely familiar from my first holiday abroad starting off in Bergen, 60 years and 1 month ago.  Being bathed in bright sunshine, Bergen certainly looked at its best.  I think Troldhaugen, Grieg’s house, is around 5 miles away.  The lake (or fjord) looks beautiful from the house and grounds.  There were no fancy souvenir shops or museums as far as I remember in 1962.  Troldhaugen has been developed into a worthwhile tourist attraction without really spoiling the house and grounds.  The recital was world class, and of respectable duration.  We returned to Bergen after an all too brief tour of the house and gardens.  My brain could not absorb the organisation into groups; thus I missed out on some of the grounds.  But feeling overly drowsy, I told myself I could return quite easily by ferry, and explore at my own pace.  The tour guide did do well talking about the life of Grieg and explaining many artefacts in his house.  I did abandon my own plans to search out the Grand Hotel Terminus, where I stayed in my first ever foreign hotel, with Mum and Dad, sixty years ago.  Although the guide was unfamiliar with the “Grand H.T.” she  ascertained on her phone that the hotel did still exist.  We were quickly shown around much of the town before being dropped off at the ship.  A technical problem with one of QM2’s pods needed to be addressed before we could dock this morning.  Thus we set sail for Southampton half an hour after the booked departure time. 

I took no further pictures until after re-embarking QM2, except a couple of photos of the ship in Bergen.  In 1962, I had sailed in with Mum and Dad on Bergen Line’s Venus. 

Leaving Bergen at 3.30 pm, we headed out towards the North Sea, through which we would continue south towards the Straits of Dover and eventually Southampton, arriving at the ungodly hour of 06 30 hrs.  Leaving Bergen entails some scenic cruising, past many small rugged islands, all looking very attractive in the still gorgeous weather.

We would pass under the Askoybroen, (Askoy Bridge) which spans the Byfjorden which I presume we were heading along towards the open sea.

It had been announced that an Interdemoninational Service in Remembrance of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II would take place in the Royal Court Theatre at 12.15 the following day.

A very impressive number turned up in good time.  A huge screen behind the stage acted as a backdrop from which TV broadcasts were being shown “live.”  This is among the most poignant services I have attended, and my once proud booming voice failed to materialise when singing,  particularly I Vow to Thee My Country whose melody from Jupiter (The Planets Suite Gustav Holst) rather than the actual words, brings a lump to the throat.  I did manage God Save the King…just.  Others at the Service sang like nightingales.

I spent much of the day packing. I had little energy to walk, although I did hit my target of 10,000 steps just before midnight C.E.T. (11pm over here!)  After dinner, I joined two ladies who were at the table, in the Royal Court Theatre for the last of the Cunard Show Nights, after which we said our farewells and parted company.  

Determined to maintain 10k steps per day up to midnight of the last full day, I ventured alone onto the almost deserted open decks, one last time.  I figured the distant lights on the starboard horizon must be France, those on the other side, England.  I think I got that the right way round.

I have been home since around 3.30 this afternoon.  The journey from Southampton was far more efficient and pleasant than I dared to hope. Five hours from Southampton on a Sunday with services disrupted by engineering works, I thought was impressive.

That concludes the account of part 1 of “1,000,000 Steps to the Other Side of the World and Back in support of Christian Aid Week 2023,” during which I averaged 11,431 steps, or 28.4 miles, having achieved 80,021 steps over the seven days of this voyage to South West Norway.

Thanks for reading, David  22.03, at home. Last paragraph amended, Tue 13th September.