Blinded by the Light (Alta, Norway)

Yes dear reader today's title takes us all the way back to 1976 and Year 11 at school. Anyway, Blinded by the Light by Manfred Mann's Earth Band was a big hit in its day and signals yet again, that we saw the Aurora Borealis. It was the best display yet and I doubt it will be surpassed. It was so strong that its colours could be seen without the aid of a camera lens.

We had continued heading north to Alta, the proclaimed "city of northern lights". There is a not-insignificant rivalry around propriety of the Aurora, between Alta and Tromsø, the "gateway to the Arctic". Although a city, Alta is smaller and less beautiful than Tromsø. In a world where everything must be labelled, Alta also bills itself as the northernmost city in the world.

It is a city that boasts a university and an all-weather sports arena but not a hospital - emergency patients have to be transported by helicopter and those deemed less serious are driven to a halfway point to be exchanged into another vehicle to go the rest of the distance to the hospital in Hammerfest. The situation of the hospital, clearly a sore point with Alta locals, was apparently determined by the need to have a medical facility in the Hammerfest community because it has a gas works which could be the potential site of an industrial disaster.

We are told that Alta women who are about to give birth, are made to go to hospital prior to their due date but if babies come early (unusual I know), it is not uncommon for the them to arrive mid helicopter flight to Hammerfest. Many Alta kids say their place of birth is up in the air. Does that make them Norse gods?

They look cold.

We were here for two days and had a reasonably busy schedule on day one and a more relaxed day two. When we woke up in Alta, we were greeted by a Norwegian naval vessel when I opened the curtains. It was as grey as the day. There were NATO war games happening in and around Alta, coinciding with our visit, so military outfits were de rigueur.

War games with NATO. What Putin would do?

The dock we were allocated was very close to the airstrip. Although we had it for only one day and night. The following day there would be four ships in the harbour and two would need to be at anchor because there are only two berths at the Alta pier. This meant tender transfers on our second day.

Incoming.

After breakfast, the first day commenced with our usual tour of the city. The highlight of this was, wait for it, the Cathedral of Northern Lights. I've often speculated while wandering through Cathedrals built in centuries past, what tourists would be flocking to see in the future. It appears the answer is still Cathedrals. This one was completed in 2013, quite recent compared with most Cathedrals I've visited in Europe.

Shaped like a boreal swirl of light.

The Cathedral of Northern Lights

The whole project was quite controversial at the time, not only in terms of its design but also the cost that had to be borne. The Cathedral is right in the heart of town and is now a focal point of pride in the community. Its design was the result of a competition and its external spiralling façade, clad in titanium interlocked panels, is symbolic of the Aurora. The Cathedral construction required the community to take out a substantial loan which had to be underwritten by the Norwegian government. 

Looking down the main street from the Cathedral door.

The Norwegian politicians, ever fiscally responsible (unlike the NSW former Liberal government), agreed to support the loan but only on the proviso that the facility would have uses other than worship and that all visitors would pay a compulsory donation. As a result, the Cathedral sports an underground multimedia presentation area, complete with an interactive display on the Aurora. This is where our tour group went initially to view yet another Northern Lights photographic video, made tolerable only by the fact that we had actually seen the lights by this time on the trip. I don't think that I would have been quite so thrilled to be constantly reminded of what I hadn't seen, if nature had not smiled up on us by now...

A photo of a photo from the presentation. Impressive.

After the video, we had less than 5 minutes to interact with the displays - only just enough time to read about the Nordic folklore that the lights are, in fact, spinster virgins waving their mittens about in the hope of attracting a husband. Like that would work. Can you hear the calls of the boys/men, "Show us your mittens." Doesn't quite have the same ring to it.

Reluctantly, up the stairs we went to do the Cathedral part of the tour which, happily and unexpectedly, proved to be a vastly more interesting experience that the previous church visits of Narvik and Tromsø.

The Cathedral was intentionally built to provide increased capacity compared to the original Cathedral. The seating is flexible in configuration with individual chairs that can be locked together. As a revenue raiser, the public were invited to purchase a seat and, to remove any discussion about the legitimacy of the Cathedral, the Bishop himself also purchased a seat to satisfy the definition of a cathedral as the church that houses the Bishop's seat. Although in truth, he purchased his chair when he was a priest. Still satisfies the pedants and rule lovers.

I love the fact that the Cathedral was intentionally designed to provoke debate and it has absolutely achieved its brief. Inside there are so many visual points of focus that demand not only your attention but also your reflection:  

- The massive bronze crucifix standing in a viking boat, behind the altar, with Christ looking up rather than traditionally downwards, one hand clenched in fist, the other wrapped in a bandage. 

- The mosaic panels arguably representing the 12 Apostles. 

- Jacob's ladder, in gold, suspended above the entry vestibule, not quite within reach but tantalisingly close, climbing up into the spire (heaven).  

- The font with its gold basin designed to give the impression that the newly baptised child is being bathed in golden water. 

- The circular concrete walls, with sound-mitigating light panels that create ethereal reflections on the walls, reminiscent of the dancing Aurora.

The fittings are straight, the light makes it look otherwise.

As with other churches, there was a sizeable organ as well as a Steinway grand piano off to the side which we looked forward to hearing played later that evening when we would return for a musical recital. Allowing the place of religious worship to be transformed into a concert hall and a different form of worship. 

Part of the organ - just out of shot are 6 sleigh bells.

The Alta Museum

Back on the bus, we continued across town to the museum, waving to our guide's grandmother on the way and passing by 2 of the 3 original churches that were all that remained of Alta after WWII. The rest of the town was razed to the ground by the retreating Nazis who apparently were God-fearing people and didn't want to risk damnation by torching God's houses.

The museum entrance. Cool wall.

The museum celebrates the Sámi people and culture with a particular focus on the etchings in the stone that litter the shoreline of the fjord. There is an indoor/outdoor exhibition although the snow rendered the outdoor superfluous on our visit. The rocks are etched with pictures of animals and people. Those outside were covered with snow which acts as a protective layer in the winter. Although not protective enough because at some point the caretakers of the etched rocks decided to colour the outlines of the etchings red to make them easier to see. No further comment on that.

I'm sure the rock is really cool - under 2 metres of snow.

The rock art is heritage listed and the locals are very proud of the Sámi history. Hmmm, meanwhile in Australia we allow mining companies to destroy Aboriginal rock art sites that are 60,000 years old. The art at this Sámi site, by way of comparison is, is a maximum of 6,200 years old.

An indoor example. Unpainted.

Australia is a land of tokenism. We laud our indigenous achievers, until they speak out. We pretend to protect Aboriginal cultural sites, until we need to mine them. We mine the tourist trade for indigenous experiences. We provide dual naming of cities, towns and regions. Do we care that we have the world's oldest living civilisation in our country? Do we care that the indigenous population lived in harmony with the land for almost 60,000 years before Europeans arrived? 

A familiar story.

Alright, alright, I'll move on.

The museum displays artefacts depicting various aspects of Sámi lifestyle and culture - clothes, fishing paraphernalia, canoes, weapons and interestingly, crockery made out rock that contains asbestos. Clearly, its ok to ingest but not to inhale it? Anyway, out through the gift shop, onto the coach and back to the ship for a hasty dinner before it was time to depart again and return to the Cathedral for the private recital.

The Recital

The Cathedral at night.

We were keen to hear the performance, especially since the Steinway would feature and earlier we had heard so much about the acoustic design of the walls and ceiling. Upon arrival, we were seated and introduced to a local man who plays the organ for the congregation. Not quite what we were expecting... 

He dressed for the occasion.

He then proceeded to play a set of 5 organ pieces, some of which he sang as well. Then he played two pieces on the Steinway, followed by another set of 5 organ pieces. To be honest, it was a little underwhelming compared to other private recitals we have enjoyed on different cruises. Who plays an organ when they have a Steinway sitting there unused? It's like playing chords on a cheap acoustic guitar or making your fingers bleed on the steel strings of an original Fender.

The Steinway.

We headed back to the ship, taking note of shuttle bus pick up points for tomorrow as we were going to head into town by ourselves in the middle of the day to witness the noon start of the Finnmark Race. Never heard of it? It is Europe's longest dog sled race (1200kms) which features 160 teams and over 1500 dogs! This is a big event in Alta, it starts and finishes here. It is certainly not a spectacle we are likely to see in downtown Redfern.

The next day

The ship was to move from dock to anchor before lunch. It was then we realised that this change would alter how we headed ashore and came back on board. To go into town meant that, after the race start, we would be stuck in chilly, icy Alta standing round for about 2 hours waiting for the shuttle service to resume. Not very appealing. 

The tender.

So the dog sled race was abandoned and instead, we spent the next morning doing washing and blogging while we waited for evening. Our last night in Alta would see us venturing out to Paeskatun, high in the surrounding mountains, for our final shore excursion before heading south once again and out of the Arctic Circle.

The pre-excursion excitement was a flurry of snow around 4pm.

Paeskatun

Paeskatun or Mt Paeskas was a 30 minute drive up to a slate quarry and workshop business that also provides a viewing location for the Aurora. While there, we were subjected to another presentation on the northern lights. This one was much more interesting and personal as the presenter talked of the myths and legends and the impact they had had on her life.

The area consisted of a few slate houses, a workshop and lavvu. Nothing out of the ordinary. Oh, and what would have been a drop dead gorgeous view over the neighbouring valley. The light display was the best yet, swirling lights in a myriad of colours visible to the naked eye. It was cloudy and the temperature was probably around 0° but the excitement overroad any level of discomfort.

As they do, the lights appeared from nowhere, sparked amazed interest and then disappeared. The only frustration was avoiding the idiots with their iPads and smartphones who were using a flash. I'm sure they're sitting around wondering why their photos didn't turn out. Then there were the usual inconsiderate, entitled morons who can only focus on themselves, stepping into camera shot. Otherwise it was a perfect night.

I shall conclude this post with pictures of the lights. We have been so, so fortunate. Enjoy. We did.

Until next time.

Tonight's the Night (Amsterdam to Narvik, Norway)

And so, dear reader, we sat at port in Amsterdam. We could have spent the entire time at the Rijksmuseum had we known. The benefit was we had the ship to ourselves, almost, while everyone was off touristing. The afternoon was a lazy one, lunch, drinks and time in the cabin reading.

The coast outside the sheltered harbour where we waited for spare parts is lined with wind turbines. The kind that Dutton said will kill the whales if we install them off the coast of Australia. There are turbines a plenty but not one dead whale that I can see. Another piece of scaremongering from the naysayer. As I tap away at the keys, we are now on the move, as is the weather. Heavy rain is coming in from the North Sea.

Turbines are everywhere off the coast of The Netherlands and Norway.

The Restaurant

There are four restaurants on board, three of which have a dress code. The Restaurant is one of those, so not wishing to break the rules like I did on a previous cruise when I wore shorts to the dining room, I changed my joggers and jeans for chinos and shoes. While there were people dressed far more formally than I (wankers), there was a lot of denim as well as sneakers from the aged American crowd.

First sunset at sea (first visible sunset since leaving home).

We eat early. By way of explanation, Jayne is from the country. We arrived at the restaurant around 6:15pm and it was already quite well populated. The window tables were all gone. Not that there was much to see anyway. Rain and the North Sea swell. The tables were situated much closer together than they were in the The World Café.

The food was very good and the menu changes daily. The level of noise made it difficult for me to hear Jayne across the table, although I could have easily joined in the conversation four tables away. It was that sort of loud. Perhaps given the age of the clientele, it was a case of hard of hearing, speak louder. Or not. Some nationalities are just loud, as was explained to me in China. They added thoughtfully, it might be accepted but it is still unnecessary.

The pool deck. The roof retracts - in good weather.

There was a table of four women next to us. Loud, denim clad, sneaker wearing women. Next to them, as Jayne later told me, was a table of four men. So quiet I didn't even know they were there. The women's partners. The men at one table, the women at another. "It's like an Aussie BBQ," quipped Jayne. As the cruise continues, perhaps they'll opt for separate restaurants.

Following dinner, we adjourned to the Explorers' Lounge for a nightcap before being rocked to sleep by the rolling swell.

Saturday

The time lost in Amsterdam, waiting for the parts to arrive, has been made up over night and we are back on schedule. The rain is coming in bursts and the swell is around 2 metres but it is choppy. There is quite a bit of lateral movement which can facilitate unexpected meetings with fixed objects like walls.

The clouds has cleared long enough to allow a post-breakfast wander around the deck. The infinity pool at the back of the ship is heated, of course, but it is no less inviting. The indoor pool has continuous wave motion, courtesy of the sea swell.

The Wintergarden.

We attended a lecture in the afternoon on seabirds. As a bird nerd, I was excited. As someone who desperately longs to see a Puffin, I was beyond excitement. There is a real possibility that we will see an Atlantic Puffin. That would be another box ticked.

We dined at The Restaurant again. Same story, the food was very good but the tables being so close is not an enjoyable experience if you have a loud group nearby. I smashed the dress code, jeans, joggers and long sleeved T without a collar. And I was not alone.

The swell was unchanged through most of the day and sea sick bags suddenly appeared, placed discreetly all over the ship. We weren't even remotely uncomfortable. The wind had begun to abate late in the day which reduced the chop and the movement of the ship a little. Another night of being rocked to sleep.

The first sight of Norway.

Sunday

Sometimes in the early hours of the morning the rocking motion of the ship disappeared. I'm sure this made many people happy. We had reached Norway's inside passage. The water was calm and the cloud had gone. It was the best weather we'd had since leaving home. I went out onto the balcony to take a couple of shots of Norway. It was about 4° but it didn't feel that cold.

It looks like a toy boat.

The Inside Passage is created by a vast archipelago stretching along the coast of the mainland. Some of the islands are large enough to support habitation, many are not and are barren. Although this is where the sea birds breed. Some of the more distant islands are populated by wind turbines. The Australian LNP would be apoplectic about all this coal free power being generated.

The coastal villages are all so colourful

Several of the islands are breeding grounds for the Atlantic Puffin. Sadly, they are too remote for us to get to once the cruise is over. But, if I see one, you'll certainly read about it. This morning before breakfast, I spotted Kittiwake and Fulmar, pelagic birds of this area, flying alongside the ship.

The Inside Passage is dotted with islands.

Port Talk

We ditched the afternoon lecture and watched a movie in our cabin, sorry stateroom. Barbie. Yep. Jayne has been hoping to see it and to date, it hasn't been available on any planes we've been on. Sadly. I could have lived without it. (Patriarchal perspective clearly on display here... editor's note).

The steeple caught my eye.

Following Barbie was Ken. Actually, it was a Spanish rosé as we whiled away the time before the port talk. If ever, dear reader, you wanted a defining difference between generations, the port talk captured it. There are 900 people on board the ship and most of them will be disembarking at Narvik for a shore excursion. Or at least to walk on solid ground after 3 days at sea. 

A lighthouse.

The talk would be crowded. It was to commence at 4:30pm. We walked into the theatre at 4:15pm and it was already packed. There were very few seats - and that is a generational difference. I could make jokes about lack of mobility and people needing to get seated early, or suggest hearing issues were the cause of over-punctuality, wanting a seat near the speaker. Or, as you age, just that mentality that develops to be early to ensure the best seat or being first. Whatever.

Environmentally farmed fish. Hey Tasmania check it out.

The Cruise Director and his assistant provided almost 90 minutes of information on the excursions scheduled in Narvik tomorrow as well as a brief history of the area. It was quite a significant port early on in WWII and was home to a sea battle between German and Allied ships, a number of which ended up on the bottom of the harbour.

We were told the possibility of seeing the lights commences tonight as we cross the line into the Arctic Circle. This will occur around 2:30am when we are, hopefully, sleeping soundly. Clothes and cameras need to be at the ready when we go to bed this evening. There will not be an announcement if the lights are sighted, but those fools, like me, who want to see them, no matter what the time, have a cabin call arranged.

The ship John West rejected. We opted for Viking.

Which brings us inexorably to today's title, a Rod Stewart hit from 1977, remember? No. Well, have a listen. Unlike the lyrics direct, I won't stay away from the window because I want to see the lights and tonight is the night we cross into the Arctic Circle.

Until next time.