To the Arctic Circle and beyond: Day 9 - why does this Viking have an Italian accent?

Brønnøysund, Sandnessjøen and Nesna were slept through during the night, and we apparently crossed the Arctic Circle just before I woke up (there was a ceremony, I was told, but it sounded a bit too slapstick for my taste so we missed it). And, whilst it was interesting to watch the activity at Ørnes after breakfast, our minds were on our walk around Bodø and the evening excursion, our first organised one.

Bodø, which is, by the way, not one of the hobbits from Lord of the Rings, is the jumping off point for the Lofoten Islands, and sadly, it appears to offer little to delay a speedy onward journey. There is little to see, little more to do, but it does have the furthest outpost on the Norwegian rail system - there is a station quite a bit further north, but it runs into Sweden. But you don't miss a chance to stretch your legs, so Ros and I dutifully did.

Bodø was grey, but the clouds lifted once again - we had been incredibly lucky with the weather - as we set sail for Stamsund. As you approach the Lofoten Islands, you get the impression of a huge, continuous wall of mountains, covered in snow even in mid-May. It all looks very forbidding but, as Stamsund approached, a rather greener landscape came into focus.

The Lofotens made their fortune, at least, what fortune they could make, out of the sea. As winter ends, the Barents cod migrate south and, for about two months, they feed off the coast here. For centuries, hardy fishermen have gone out in boats and hauled in as many cod as they can, trading them across Europe. Even now, Lofoten cod are sold to Italy and Portugal (that's where bacalhau come from). The fish are beheaded (the heads go to Nigeria), gutted (the roe stay at home to become Norwegian caviar) and then hung out to dry on racks. The resultant dried fish can be rehydrated should you wish, or eaten a bit like jerky.

At the dockside, our bus was waiting and we set off on a drive across the island of Vestvågøy to Borg, where the Lofoten Viking Museum is to be found. I was slightly puzzled by the accent of our guide, until it became clear that he was an Italian called Luigi, who had settled on the Lofotens having followed his partner. He was quite funny though, and we were a bit more educated when we pulled up at the museum for a promised Viking feast. Yes, I admit, these things can be a bit corny, and there was a fair bit of acting going on. However, the food was surprisingly good (roast lamb, lots of root vegetables) and I was quite enjoying myself, interacting with the cast.

But, we had to get to Svolvaer to catch up with the boat, so it was time to return to the bus for the incredibly scenic drive through the evening sunshine. At one point we spotted the now functional MS Finnmarken, our original boat, heading south. I didn't miss it.

Back on the boat, I found a book on my Kindle and settled down for the evening...

A musical interlude. Give a warm welcome to @ActingQuiet...

Never let it be said that we are closed to new influences here in Creeting St Peter. Nor are we unwilling to provide a platform for music that post-dates the Reformation.

After I wrote about what a lovely place Alesund was, I noted that I had been favourited by an indie band from that fine town. Now, I will admit, I may not be the best person to judge their ability or talent, but I do know people with a wide range of musical tastes, and thought that you might like their stuff.

So, here, with 'Ticking' are Acting Quiet, who comprise of Matthias, Johannes and Fredrik...

To the Arctic Circle and beyond: Day 8 - in which we examine the acme of cycling-related technology

It was a bit early in the morning when the MS Trollfjord arrived at Trondheim - 6 a.m., to be precise. But we did want to take a look around so, after a early breakfast, we were off in the sunshine, out of the quay, across the new station being constructed and into the city.

Trondheim (and that's a point of controversy in itself) is, rather unexpectedly, a place of pilgrimage. Whilst Catholics travelled to Santiago de Compostela in the west, and to Jerusalem in the east and, of course, to Rome, there was a fourth point of pilgrimage in medieval times, to the site of the burial place of King Olav II, who was thought to have brought Christianity to Norway, at Nidaros Cathedral. Olaf died at the Battle of Stiklestad in 1030, and was canonised the next year.

In fairness, modern historians suggest that he was inclined to violence and brutality, and that most of the work of introducing the Christian faith was down to his underlings, but somebody has to get the credit, and supreme monarchs tend to corner that particular market if they can.

And so, we walked through the town to the Cathedral, which is as big and imposing as one might expect. Whilst nobody really knows where Olaf is buried (it is somewhere under the cathedral, but the actual location was lost during the Lutheran iconoclasm of 1536-37), and the building suffered through a series of great fires, it is still quite an imposing piece of architecture.

We stopped for an extraordinarily expensive cup of coffee (you just have to accept this in Norway, prices are generally eye-watering) before setting off for a walk around the Bryggen neighbourhood. Crossing the Gamle Bybru, an old wooden bridge now closed to traffic, I spotted something slightly odd-looking. "It's the bike lift.", Ros explained. Puzzled, I sought an explanation.

It turned out that Ros had been here before, as part of a North Sea Commission delegation, and that the locals were very proud of this, a mean by which people could get their bikes up the quite steep hill with rather less effort, thus encouraging bicycle use. Admittedly, I wasn't tempted, and can't see the idea catching on, but it is innovative, nonetheless.

Sadly, the boat was due to leave at noon, so we headed back to the quay for the voyage retracing our steps back out of the Trondheimsfjord before heading north again towards a brief stop at Rørvik.

In the afternoon sun, it was strangely relaxing, almost hypnotic, to watch the coast slip by, the odd house dotted along it. It did look a little isolated, even from the perspective of a resident of a village of about 200. We sat in our bay window with a book, pointing out bits of scenery, or small communities, and just chilled until dinner.

Dinner is organised. You have a table assigned to you for the entire voyage, as well as a sitting. And, if you've given Hurtigruten enough money, you get a table by the window. You are reminded that it isn't a cruise by the menu, which offers a set of courses which everyone gets unless they have declared an allergy in advance (an allergy to fish is probably unhelpful). The main ingredients are sourced locally from suppliers up and down the coast, so your cod, for example, was probably landed the same day and loaded onto the ship at a morning stop.

But the food is very good, the service keen but not too intrusive, and the scenery, dominated by snow-capped mountains, gorgeous as it slips by. And, of course, at this time of year, darkness never truly comes, especially as you approach the Arctic Circle, so visibility is just as good as it is at noon until very late.

And the next day promised an invitation to meet some aging locals...

To the Arctic Circle and beyond: Day 7 - Happy Norwegian Constitution Day!

I may never get to Florø, although our boat did - at 4.30 a.m. I was, surprisingly, asleep, given my long-held aversion to large bodies of water (oh yes, I don't mind looking at them, but bobbing about on them...), but I was awake by the time we reached Måløy. Unlike a cruise, you don't get to go ashore everywhere - the stops in the smaller ports are often just fifteen minutes long. Instead, you can, if you're so inclined, watch as a few passengers get on or off, or goods are unloaded for local residents or businesses.

Me, I had breakfast. There may have been oily fish involved. And lots of Norwegian flags, for it was Norwegian Constitution Day, when Norwegians dress up in localised variations of their national costume and celebrate the signing of Norway's first constitution on 17 May 1814. Odd, perhaps, because Norway didn't gain its independence until 1905, but nonetheless taken very seriously indeed. There was to be a parade on deck, and a speech from the captain. I did find myself wondering if we would get as excited about having a constitution...

And the MS Trollfjord sailed on, past Torvik and into Ålesund. Ålesund is a rather lovely town, with its Art Nouveau architecture, something else that you might not necessarily associate with the slightly dour Norwegians. But, after a disastrous fire in 1904, which caused the loss of most of the town (mostly wooden), it was rebuilt in the Jugendstil style by a group of Norwegian architects trained in Trondheim and Berlin.

Luckily, we had three hours there, so Ros and I were off to have a stroll - it is one of the things about shipboard life that you have to take every opportunity to get a walk. And it seemed that most of the town were out, dressed in costume and generally enjoying themselves. The sun was shining, and we really rather enjoyed the place.

But, you have to be back at the boat - it really won't wait - and we set sail for Molde and Kristiansund (two more shortish stops). It was an early night for us though, as we had plans for the morning...

To the Arctic Circle and beyond: Day 6 - aah, Bjorn lad, that be a ship

Fantoft Stave Church

It was raining again in Bergen on the Saturday morning. Admittedly, that isn't unusual in Bergen, set as it is on the eastern edge of a vast expanse of ocean. And, having spent a bit of time in Bergen already, we didn't have an awful lot left to do.

However, Ros's friend, Svein, was keen to show us one of Norway's finest contributions in the sphere of church architecture, the Fantoft Stave Church. The original was first erected in 1150, before being moved to its current location in 1883, as it was no longer needed.

There is one small catch, in that, actually, it isn't the original. The original was burnt to the ground by a member of the early Norwegian black metal scene in 1992, before being rebuilt. From the outside, it isn't so obvious, but inside, the timbers are yet to season fully, and it does look almost cosy.

We then took a drive out to the country, to one of Svein's favourite spots but, all too soon, it was time to go - a boat was waiting...

When it works, the Hurtigruten works very well indeed. On arrival at the terminal, we were ushered to a desk, our luggage was labelled and taken away, and we were asked to attend a mandatory safety briefing (we passed, I'm happy to note).

Our suite... Yes, that is a bay window...

On to the ship, and up to our suite, where we found our luggage, waiting to be put away. A quick exploration uncovered a walk-in wardrobe, a surprisingly spacious bathroom (walk-in shower and a bathtub), a bedroom with, beyond it, a lounge and, beyond that, a bay window which protruded beyond the ship, providing a vista to look at from the warmth of the suite.

But there wasn't time to enjoy the comforts of our home for the next six nights, as a buffet dinner was waiting for us.

The Hurtigruten isn't a cruise in the classic sense, it's a working mode of transportation, allowing residents of small coastal towns to travel to and from big cities such as Bergen, Trondheim, Bodø and Tromsø. The tourists merely allow it to cover its costs. So, it isn't as chi-chi as a cruise ship, but it is rather good, with locally sourced seafood and fresh salads, meats and cheeses.

We had long finished dinner, but it was still fairly light when, at 10.30, the MS Trollfjord slipped its moorings and set sail, bound for Florø...

To the Arctic Circle and beyond: Day 5 - in which our voyagers retrace their steps...

The Norwegian Air Shuttle flight to Bergen leaves Gatwick at 10.50 a.m., which is all very well if you live in London, especially South London. It isn't so great if you live in Suffolk but, luckily, Ros's term-time flat in London was available to us, so an early, but bearably so, start as we headed back to Norway.

I don't use Gatwick very much, but check-in and security were rather straightforward, and the South Terminal was crowded but not overly so. We grabbed breakfast and headed to the gate for our flight.

Nice, eh? A bit strange, but very Scandinavian...

Norwegian offer free wi-fi throughout the flight (an unfamiliar but welcome facility), so the journey passed relatively easily and we arrived in Bergen on time, grabbing a taxi to our hotel. It was our first reminder as to just how expensive Norway is - you always find yourself mentally exclaiming "how much?" with a slightly panicky air of disbelief - but we arrived at the hotel, checked into our room (with a balcony, no less) and made a reservation for some traditional Norwegian fare - there may have been reindeer and fish involved.

I checked the Hurtigruten website. The MS Trollfjord was making its way south towards Bergen and was on time. Things were beginning to look up...

Dinner was... interesting. Excellent food, service of a decidedly amateurish streak. But then, Norwegians don't really tip - they assume that people get paid a proper salary - so some of the incentive is missing. Wesselstuen is a rather traditional sort of place, with an emphasis on the food, rather than the ambience. However, that suits me just fine, especially if there's reindeer on the menu.

Replete, we had a brief stroll around the town in bright sunshine before heading back to the hotel for a good night's sleep...