No Light, no light (Tromsø, Norway)

Well hello, dear reader and yes, today's title is a bit of a giveaway. As Florence sang, there were no lights, no lights. We are not complaining; what we have seen so far has been amazing, not as visible to the naked eye as we expected, but stunning nonetheless. It also afforded me the opportunity of revisiting Florence and the Machine. An excellent song from the 2011 Ceremonials album. Enjoy.

Good morning from Tromsø onboard the Venus.

There was one scheduled excursion for today which incorporated a drive around Tromsø to provide some orientation. Combined with this was a visit to the planetarium at the university and an obligatory church visit. It is referred to as a Cathedral, but it's not really. More on that later.

Tromsø, like most of the communities we have seen so far, is etched onto the side of a mountain that slopes down to a fjord. All very picture perfect and spectacular. The population of 78,000ish is spread across the mainland and an island with the university contributing significantly to the general population as well as the number of guides utilised by the tourist trade. 

A ski jump on the uni campus.

The planetarium was one where the seat lays back so you watch the action unfold on the ceiling. The action, in our case, was a display of the northern lights taken by a Norwegian photographer. It was impressive and, as you know already, provided us with false hope for the night to come.

There was an exhibit inside the planetarium that displayed a timeline of important events around the Aurora Borealis. The timeline, in typical Viking fashion, was tight and we didn't really get to explore much beyond watching the presentation.

Sydney Opera House? If I squint while looking into the sun.

Back on the bus, it was Cathedral time. The church is said to resemble the Sydney Opera House. In the most remote of ways, I would suggest. Although there were similar architect issues. When the church was completed, the window behind the altar was clear glass. Apparently this provided multiple religious moments for the congregation when the sun rose above the mountains and blinded them. Or in summer, fried them. I'm sure if they squinted in the right way they would see a saint. With a message. "Don't forget your sunglasses,'" or "Should have gone to specsavers."

An impressive organ.

Anyway, the solution was to replace the clear glass with a stained glass mosaic window. Impressive as it is, the architect was, as only architects can be, professionally miffed and he vowed never to set foot inside the church again. I did that years ago and I'm not even an architect.

Planned or not, it is spectacular.

However, the best moment in this visit? We walked outside to the back of the church to see what the windows looked like from the other side. As expected, unimpressive. As we were heading back to the front of the church with its view over the fjord, I noticed a bird feeder hanging from one of the trees. Closer inspection revealed a Great Tit. Excitement plus! Yes, dear reader, you know I'm a bird nerd. Sadly I only had the 55mm lens with me so the photo of the fast moving little fellow is not my best work. Still.

Look hard, he's there.

Wandering back to the front of the church, being careful not to slip on the ice, I snapped a shot of the Venus at anchor across the fjord. Then it was back on the bus and back to the ship.

I have a childhood memory of a ditty about the good ship Venus ...

The city centre

Following the morning excursion was lunch of course. Way too much food for my liking, but hey, it has to be done. We either eat a very light lunch or none at all. I would still like to be able to fit into my jeans at the end of the cruise. Time at sea and weather conditions don't always encourage physical activity.

We were docked close to town and the gangway was down - no need for tender transfer, so we opted to go exploring. That's almost the truth. Jayne mentioned 'pandora', the jewellery, not the mythical Greek box. A Google question later and I was armed with the information required - where can I purchase Pandora in Tromsø?

As it turned out it was within sight of the ship. The footpaths in the city centre are heated to ensure an expeditious melting of ice. However not all paths were actually ice free. It was therefore, a slow and steady progression toward the shopping mall.

Norwegian Easter eggs aren't chocolate but are filled with lollies.

The journey to the pandora prize took us past a couple of interesting sculptures. The one further down the page I just don't get. Proving his manhood in the cold? Whatever. The statue of Amundsen the great Norwegian explorer is understandable. Even if he is not. Here is a man who clearly liked the company of men (not that there's anything wrong with that) or he disliked his family. A lot. Preparing for an expedition to be the first person to the North Pole, he discovered, days before setting out, that someone beat him to it. Does he go home? No chance. He is packed and ready to go, so he turns his attention to the South Pole, pops down there and beats poor old Doug Mawson to the finish line. Fun times.

Brave explorer or family hater? You decide.

We walked past a Clarion Hotel into the shopping centre to a store named 'Glitter'. It did not look like it would sell Pandora. And for good reason. It didn't. Excellent work Google and your paid links. Remember when Google was good? You could search for something and not be bombarded with 'sponsored sites' or others that had paid to be top of the search list. I was searching for something completely unrelated this morning and the top 15 hits had nothing to do with my specific search. But I digress.

Clearly it was cold.

Out of the shopping plaza and back toward the city centre. All pavements were defrosted and the walking was easy. The tourist shops all appeared to to stock the same items, at the same price. Collusion? After inspecting a few stores, we decided just to wander around. The main shopping street is a work in progress. There are barricades everywhere as it is being dug up and replaced. We saw a man we assumed had had a fall, on the ground being tended to by people who were with him as the ambulance arrived.

The real Cathedral in Tromsø centre.

Norway appears to be the home of trolls. No, dear reader not the internet ones, the trolls of myth and/or legend. There is even a Troll Museum. No we didn't go in. How long would that hold your interest?

Cute.

Thwarted in our attempts to support the Norwegian economy we returned the ship. Intact. No ice falls.

The Sámi Parliament

Like other indigenous peoples across the globe, the Sámi have withstood attempts to evangelise them, to wipe out their spiritual connection with nature, to obliterate their history by denying them their language and to ignore their sovereignty as the original of the two peoples across the Sámpi Lands. This oppression continued until after WWII when government policy shifted, at least in theory. But real change did not occur until a pivotal moment when a hydro-electric dam proposal threatened to flood a Sámi community. Consequent protests, known as the Alta Conflict, galvanised the movement for real change, culminating in the establishment of the Parliament in 1989. How would that have gone in Australia?

The Cathedral zone at night.

The evening before, our Sámi host at Camp Tamok spoke briefly about the challenges of maintaining the traditional lifestyle and culture in face of both historic and modern threats. In passing he mentioned that now, if he has an issue of concern, he can seek representation in the Sámi Parliament to be heard. What is this radical agenda? A body that can allow the First Nations people to have a say in matters that affect them? What an outrageous idea! Imagine if we'd thought of that in Australia?

In this instance, our host used the example of the ubiquitous wind turbines that occupy so much of the sea and landscape across Scandinavia. He says these generators are having a negative impact on his capacity to graze his reindeer herds unhindered. He has raised this concern with the Sámi Parliament for consideration  and debate by the democratically elected Sámi representatives who meet 4 times a year in  a small village called Karasjok in their official building, a large scale lavvu, established in 2000. Imagine a parliament that acted for the people and not big business? How would that work in Australia?

All this lies within a Norwegian cultural context of everybody has the right to access nature freely - no fees, no prohibited areas. For example, if you have a caravan, you can basically find a nice spot, park yourself there for as long as you like, enjoy the surrounds and then depart whenever you are ready. In the same vein, the school system is predicated around students being outdoors as much as possible, in the course of their studies. Kindergarten kids go on regular mountain hikes as part of their curriculum. Goodness! A curriculum that is not a plaything for politicians. Another lesson we could take back to Australia.

Yes, in a recurring theme for me dear reader I am regularly confounded by Australia's ability to ignore the original inhabitants. You know I'm coming back to this later.

Meanwhile dinner. I'll leave you with two photos.

Lobster tail and tarragon butter.

It wasn't called a pavlova - no cream.

Until next time.

Northern Lights (Narvik to Tromsø, Norway)

A pedestrian title perhaps dear reader but a legitimate one nonetheless. Northern Lights is a 2018 song by Death Cab for Cutie. The musical intro goes some way to capturing the swirling, spiralling light. Have a listen. 2018, I know, I'm almost relevant musically. Don't despair, it probably won't happen again.

How's the serenity?

The return to the ship on dusk was quite spectacular. As we approached the darkening port carpark, the ship with its vast array of lights was silhouetted against the arctic backdrop and there was a beautiful mirror reflection on the still waters of the fjord. 

From the bus, we could see a fire blazing on the dock. A welcome back on board BBQ? A beacon to guide us back to the ship? A Sámi traditional ceremony? No, it was a small fire pit around which the ship/port security staff were huddling to keep warm in between screening guests on and off the ship.

Jayne thought it was a light to guide our way.

Tromsø

We sailed through the night once again, dear reader, to arrive, by lunch time the next day, in Tromsø, AKA the gateway to the Arctic. This is Norway's largest city within the Arctic Circle and the second most Northerly port on our itinerary. Our passage into this city revealed a fjord coastline almost totally occupied by waterfront houses, leading into the main settlement area.

A colourful hillside coming into Tromsø.

Tromsø is much larger than Narvik and the city straddles an island and the mainland, connected by a streamlined bridge that arcs over the waterway, just adjacent to the dock. The bridge is vital to the operations of daily life in Tromsø and in fact, if it closes due to extreme weather, the city grinds to a halt. Keep in mind, what we call extreme and what the locals call extreme are two radically different things and the bridge is very rarely out of business. As we have been told several times, up here, there is no bad weather - there is only bad clothing! 

Tromsø from the Cathedral

It is said that visitors from the South, surprised at the sophistication of the community and its cultural pursuits, have termed Tromsø the Paris of the North. Hmmmm ... not so much. Tromsø is, however, certainly more picturesque than Narvik and its desirability as a place to live is reflected in its real estate prices; in Norway, it's ranked second only to Oslo.

Citizen Science

The first excursion of the day was a solo one. Four hours wandering the frozen woods outside Tromsø with a biologist from the Arctic University doing bird things. Who would have thought Jayne would not be interested? Today we were installing nesting boxes for the local populations of tits, specifically the Great Tit and also removing some other boxes that don't make the grade.

Arty shot. Oh, come on, flowers are not a thing.

Optimistic as always, I brought the 300mm lens, hoping to photograph some of the local wildlife. Arriving at the bus, I immediately experienced lens envy. One of the other passengers had a 500mm lens. 

Picnic anyone?

Seven hardy souls and our guide set out for the forest which is on the main island and is surrounded by human habitation. There is a recreation area before you reach the wooded area that contains an ice hockey field, a basketball court and a picnic area. Currently, the depth of snow has rendered some of the facilities useless.

I could slam dunk on that court.

The paths in the area are well worn. Skiers have their own paths and right of way. We strapped on our snowshoes and our guide led us into the snow, explaining the concept of the project as we walked. Or, more accurately, crunched. The noise our shoes made would scare off any wildlife braving the conditions.

Note the ski path. Lock in and go.

The forest is, at present, still naked and barely showing signs of spring. The snow is still deep on the ground and snow shoes are a necessity once you deviate from the established paths. We stopped to examine droppings and tracks in the snow. Fascinating. We saw evidence of the Norwegian White Grouse (ptarmigan), hare and otters. Aside from a magpie and some jackdaws (crows), birds were not visible.

That is the handle of the spade 1.5m into the snow.

It was all very scientific and we used an app to locate, roughly, where the boxes were, although a keen eye helped. Before a new box could be placed on a tree, it was necessary to check the depth of the snow. We were placing boxes at about the 1m mark. In the summer, a ladder will be required to see if the box is inhabited.

A bird nesting box in place.

This project is being run by Wild Lab Projects. They are involving citizens in a number of different projects, all worthwhile, all focused on nature and ensuring the damage humanity does is minimised. Check out their website here.

The work we did today was insignificant really. However, if more and more people get behind projects such as this, the impact will be far greater. The money I spent participating was well worth it and I will be looking for similar projects back home.

Northern Lights at a Sámi Camp

The second excursion of the day commenced after dark and involved a bus ride, for both of us, out of town to Camp Tamok. This is home to a Sámi family, traditional owners of the Sápmi lands that form part of Norway, Finland, Sweden and Russia. During this excursion, they share with cruise guests an experience of the Sámi lifestyle, culture and the chance to see the Aurora on land away from the city lights.

We were greeted by the father of the family who invited us into their communal lavvu to sit by a warm fire, drink some tea and be introduced to the rest of the family. Especially his daughter Carolina, who unlike many Sámi children, has decided to remain in the traditional lifestyle. She works with her father to maintain the reindeer herds as well as supporting the tourism aspect of their existence.

Our host in traditional dress.

Together, they led us out firstly to meet the camp dogs who were extremely friendly and receptive to all the attention from our tour group. We were cautioned not to feed them anything, not that we had anything to offer, but physical interaction was encouraged. Each dog has its own kennel with its name on it, set out in rows just along from the lavvu. While they were quiet when we were with them, later, after we were inside again, a chorus of howls would periodically commence and increase in volume - a little bit unnerving for the uninitiated. The Sámi paid this no heed so apparently this was not an alarm about some impending threat.

I'm not from around here and I'm cold.

Next we drove a short distance from the main camp to meet some of the reindeer herd. These creatures, like the dogs, were very excited and receptive to group interactions. We could pat them but were warned to look out for their horns which might unintentionally get in the way of a close up greeting.

Reindeer and the northern lights.

The Sámi had already flagged that the Aurora was active tonight and on the walk over to the reindeer enclosure, the opportunity to again capture their shimmering images presented itself. This was achieved despite having to constantly dodge other wandering group members as well as the far reaching spray of snow that a road plough crew delivered all over us as they cleared the road. We could just imagine the workers laughing at the out-of-towners trying to run through the snow to escape a torrent of road slush, cannoning across the dark, snowy landscape.

A lavvu and the fading lights.

We then headed back to the lavvu to eat a traditional Sámi stew, bidos, consisting of a variety of locally grown vegetables and the lovely creatures we had just been patting a short time before. Well, not those exact reindeer, but certainly a relative. Not only are reindeer nice but they also taste good too. Bidos is always served as part of the Sámi wedding feast - a celebration that often gathers literally hundreds or even thousands of family members from across the Sámpi lands.

While we ate, Carolina told us about many cultural Sámi aspects including how intrinsic the reindeer are to their existence. In Norway, the Sámi alone are allowed to keep reindeer and while they obviously know their herds well, the reindeer are only semi-domesticated. Carolina then informed us that we had met only a small part of the herd - the majority were inland some way off because it is too warm near the coast for them (it was a mere -7° outside). The warmer temperatures result in the snow melting and setting, thus losing its powdery quality, which makes it too hard for the reindeer to dig down to find pasture to eat.

Lavvu in the foreground.

The reindeer provide food and clothing as well - Carolina was wearing boots she had made herself from reindeer hide which are waterproof and lined. She was also wearing a Sámi belt from which a knife hung. This was given to her by her father and is a vital everyday tool both in her work with the herds but also domestically. Even though Carolina is only in her early 20s, she has been in possession of her knife since she was a small child - "If you're old enough to walk, you are old enough to own a knife." How would that translate in the US? Just asking.

The office at Camp Tamok.

The father spoke with pride about his daughter working with him but he explained that his herd is quite separate to her herd - neither can know exactly how many reindeer each owns as this brings bad luck. The child receives a reindeer from the parent each year as a birthday present.

A last flash of colour before it's gone.

Carolina explained the symbolism of her traditional dress decorations which denote your Sámi tribe. The dress is usually made out of wool but again, Carolina's dress was a different fabric because the weather was too hot for wool. Aside from the knife, her Sámi belt sported round silver buttons to denote that she is unmarried - square buttons are for married people. In addition to the buttons, Carolina showed us a silver necklace that she always wears as the Sámi believe that silver protects its wearer. Parents never let their children venture out without some item of silver.

Exit through the gift shop.

They also spoke about their voice in the Sámi Parliament and their foundational connection to the Aurora and nature. More on this in the next post. Too soon, it was time to board the bus to drive back to the city and the ship, but the opportunity to hear indigenous people talk about their life and culture was really worthwhile and a highlight of the journey thus far.

Until next time.