Boston, Chicago, and Irene

For days we had been watching the progress of Hurricane Irene. Initially our Florida friends feared they would return to a hurricane-wracked Florida, but as we know, the storm shifted course and reached landfall in North Carolina. As far north as St. John’s, Newfoundland, they were preparing for a hit as it moved up the Atlantic coast of North America. Halifax was preparing as was Bar Harbor, Maine. It looked like the storm would hit North Carolina on Saturday morning, shortly before we were to board our flight back to Chicago. It would reach New York City on Sunday and Massachusetts after that. We began to become optimistic that we would get out of Dodge (or I should say, Boston) before it got that far north. We woke up to pink skies in Boston (“Pink sky at night; sailors’ delight. Pink sky in the morning; sailors’ take warning.)

We were scheduled to disembark between 8:15 and 8:30, but the ship hadn’t been cleared to disembark the ship by 8 AM! People with early flights were getting quite anxious to get going. We had to clear customs, which can take awhile as many international travelers know. But this time, we just had our customs cards collected without even being checked. We went out to the chaos of hundreds of pieces of luggage, every single one seeing to look like ours of course. (Can you say, “Needle in the haystack?”) After finding ours, we hauled it to the bus taking us to the American Airlines Terminal. We sat there for over a half hour waiting for the luggage bin to fill and people began to get nervous again. Finally it was full and we were on our way the short distance to Logan Airport. We followed the route to the Arrivals Terminal. Arrivals Terminal? Was he lost? Why was he taking us to Arrivals? When he stopped at the door for Arrivals, he announced that in their wisdom, the architects who designed the terminal had made the ceiling too low to accommodate large buses and all buses had to drop off passengers at Arrivals and they had to go up to Departures!

We paid our mandatory fees for checking our luggage (wonderful! right!) and headed for security. Barb, with all the metal in her body from two knee surgeries, wrist and shoulder surgeries, nearly always sets off alarms for more checks to determine that she’s not a terrorist. I got in another line, took off my shoes, belt, watch, put everything through and by that time, Barb was done and waiting. My carry on triggered their concern which mandated a personal inspection. They pulled things out and opened them to see what illicit items I might have. I knew what it might be and directed their attention to it. They looked at it and decided I wasn’t a risk and let me go. The airport was calm and peaceful. Yes, flights to all NYC areas airports were cancelled as to DC, Charlotte and a few other cities, but everything was a go for Atlanta and south and anything west.

We boarded our full plane and had still another surprise! A young man was seated by the window. I was assigned the middle seat and Barb was on the aisle. As I tried to flop into the middle seat, avoiding banging my head on the overhead bin above, the man told me to watch the floor in front of my seat. It looked like the carpet was pushed up, so I tried to avoid it, but then realized a large black dog was lying there! He apologized but didn’t explain why this large dog was occupying the floor in front of his and my seats! We had seen a man walking a dog through the airport but assumed he might be part of airport security. I was not expecting to go to my seat to find a large dog there. Barb, being an animal lover, was full of questions. Yes, it was a security dog. He specialized in bombs. (Was I still a suspect??) The owner was a military man who had been to Martha’s Vineyard as part of security detail for a certain president on his vacation and the dog and owner were returning to their base in Oklahoma. I must say that only a couple times did the dog even brush my foot as it adjusted its tight quarters under our feet. That was quite a feat for a German shepherd. The dog was silent and hardly moved. Barb and I decided that nearby passengers probably had no clue that a dog was so close. The owner was friendly and answered our questions but volunteered nothing. Barb gave him a DAR card expressing thanks for his role as a serviceman and asked the dog’s name. The owner said “Buli” had a business card of his own that he would give Barb when he could get his carry on in the compartment above. In addition to his duties today, Buli is also a “veteran” of Iraq. When we arrived at O’Hare, we got out and Buli popped up. Passengers nearby gushed and wanted to pet Buli and he willingly obliged. It was an interesting and different experience.


We collected our luggage, tossed them into our friend, Pat’s car, and headed home. Pat’s a great friend and we appreciate her willingness to give up a good portion of a summer Saturday to make the run to O’Hare to pick us up.

Now it’s back to the routine, but first the annoying job that follows every trip -- unpacking, and worse yet, checking through all the mail!

It was a great trip and we thank Marcia, our travel agent, for helping us get the dining steward we wanted, Deris, who had been our dining steward on the 2007 cruise with our cousins, Lyman and Beryl and Joan and Orlan. The memories of the bad weather in some places, the prospect of maybe being left behind in Acadia National Park, and the concerns over Hurricane Irene will fade as we think of the wonderful ports and the experience of Atlantic Canada, Greenland and Iceland (especially meeting Gretar for the first time since the 1960s, and his wife Kristin), the UK, Amsterdam, Ireland, and France.

We know that several people were stranded in Boston, including an Australian couple who intended to go to New York City until Monday. Those plans were cancelled as NYC had shut down on Saturday. They have waited out the storm and hope to get a flight to LA on Monday to take their scheduled flight back to Sydney. I am sure there are other stories. I checked the same flight we took yesterday and found it is cancelled on Sunday. What a difference a day makes!

The Voyage of the Vikings 2011 is over, but the memory continues as we look forward to the biggest cruise ever, starting in January! Till then……………..

Chuck

Bar Harbor, Maine

Things were much too hectic to post about our last port, and the first port in the US since leaving Boston on July 23. It was good to be back in the USA, but that meant our wonderful cruise was drawing to its conclusion. Friday was a busy last day for sure.

On days we don’t have excursions in the morning, we usually try to go to the dining room for a more leisurely breakfast and away from what I call “the Battle of the Lido” where it’s every person for him or herself, getting what we want and finding a table. Since we each have two hands, we are usually able to get everything we need in about three trips – unless I forget a spoon or some other item. Breakfasts are more relaxed in the dining room. On our last full day, we went to the dining room and usually request a table for four. It gives us a chance to meet someone new. In Bar Harbor we were meeting two ladies, traveling separately, and found one who lives in Florida now but was born in Brazil. The other lady is from Battle Creek, MI. Barb told her that she had graduated from Albion College since it’s not far from Battle Creek. As it turned out, the lady was an Albion graduate too, but ten years older than Barb . They had a good time with their Albion talk.

As we arrived in Bar Harbor, we were required to go through immigration with US officials doing a passport check onboard prior to being permitted to leave the ship. That quick process completed, we decided to take the tender to Bar Harbor in the morning as we had a rare afternoon shore excursion from 1:30 until 5:30. It was a glorious welcome home with blue sky and sunshine to greet us and temps into the 80s! That felt so good after not having experienced anything over 70 until we reached the Canadian Maritimes a few days ago. We had the chance to wander the town and do a bit of shopping in Bar Harbor.

For those who don’t know Bar Harbor, Maine, it’s on Mt. Desert Island in southern Maine and the center for lobster fishing as well as tourism and is the gateway to Acadia National Park, the first national park east of the Mississippi. It’s one of those places that is busy and bustling during the summer months and nearly abandoned in the winter. It caters to cruise ships and it’s easy to see why!

After spending a couple hours in town, we decided to take the tender back to the ship for some lunch before taking the afternoon shore excursion. However as we showed our required ship cards to go back, security told us we were being held on shore as four inconsiderate guest hadn’t bothered to do the immigration inspection. Their inaction impacted the plans of those who wanted to return. We don’t know how it was resolved, but after 15-20 minutes, we were allowed to return. That gave us a chance to continue our packing and to get some lunch.

Back on the tender to the shore, we boarded our shore excursion called “Best of both Worlds” a play on the importance of the lobster industry as well as the beauty of Acadia National Park. We saw some old vacation homes for the rich of yesteryear and made a quick stop at a small Bar Harbor college, College of the Atlantic, which enrolls about 250 students and emphasizes human ecology.

From there, we drove to the Oceanarium which shows how the lobster industry works. Unfortunately a few months ago, a fire had devastated the primary building and makeshift facilities were having to be used. The crusty but wry sense of humor of the seasoned lobster fisherman was interesting. He showed how one tells the difference between the male and female, how the lobster traps work, and reassured those concerned about how lobsters are put into a boiling pot. Lobsters have tiny brains to the point of some saying they have no brains (which I find reassuring as sometimes I feel like I’m the one with no brain). Traps are designed so that the lobster is lured by the scent of the bait into a trap through a cone netting that allows it in the trap but not out. Since the memory span of a lobster is miniscule, they don’t remember how they got in. The compartment into which they crawl is referred to as the kitchen. There is a similar cone netting that permits them to crawl in, but not out of the storing compartment, called the living room. Fishermen come and harvest the lobsters caught in the traps. By the way, the lobster has to measure a tail shell of at least 3 3/16th inches – that had been reduced from 3 ¼ inches. Since lobsters don’t feel pain due to their tiny brains, placing them in a pot doesn’t cause a painful death. Lobsters needn’t fear me however, as I don’t see the big deal about having lobster for dinner. Give me some beef on weck instead, or even a peanut butter and jelly sandwich rather than lobster!

Our next destination was Acadia National Park where we enjoyed the scenery from the bus. As we rose higher and higher it gave us a wonderful panorama of Bar Harbor and the coast. We could even see the Maasdam in the harbor. We stopped several times for the required photo opportunities. There was one particularly memorable stop. It was so we could see Thunder Hole where the waves rush in and with no place to go, the water swirls up and makes the sound like thunder. I am sure many have seen similar places (Hawaii visitors certainly have). We had 15 minutes to view Thunder Hole, make a pit stop if required, and check out the Visitor Center. I went in and found Barb there, chatting briefly with a young man who seemed quite interested in finding out our impressions of Greenland and Iceland. He commented on how he really wants to visit Nuuk, Greenland (national capital) and Reykjavik, Iceland. We finally had to apologize, saying we needed to get back to our tour bus. We went down the slight hill as Barb commented, “I hope we aren’t the last ones back,” and in the next breath, I yelled, “It’s moving!” The bus was starting to pull away without us. I started running behind the bus, waving my arms frantically and hoping the driver would spot the frantic tourist running behind him. Some people were crossing the road in front of the bus and I yelled for them to stop the bus. Luckily the bus stopped and we sheepishly got on. Barb asked if we were late, commenting that her watch read 4:09 when our return time was 4:10. (Sounds like a teenage excuse doesn’t it? But the tour guide admitted they were pulling away a bit early and apologized profusely.) It seems she had done her required count, found 31 people, so she thought she had everyone and they could leave. What she forgot was that she started with 31 but after her initial count at the start of the tour, two more people had boarded, making the actual count 33. The guide had 31 stuck in her mind, so off they went – without us! We found that several who were seated near us called out that we were missing so probably they would have stopped anyway, but when we saw the bus start up, we didn’t know that! Needless to say, at the last few stops, we were quite early in our return. While we liked Bar Harbor, and it wouldn’t have been as serious be left there as, say Djupivogur, Iceland, it was still somewhat unsettling to think about missing the last tender on the last full day of the cruise. But the worst never happened, and we boarded the ship with the rest just before we pulled anchor and headed for Boston, getting ready for our departure on Saturday morning.

Chuck

Halifax, Nova Scotia

Our last day at sea was busy with several one-time events. First, we had our disemarkation talk, followed by the crew farewell. No matter how many times I’ve seen it, it brings tears to my eyes when the cast sings their farewell song, “Love in Any Language”. I managed to buck up, though, knowing that we’d be on another cruise in the not-too-distant future. Lunch brought one of their famous specialty buffets. Most of the buffets on this trip haven’t appealed to me because I’m not a lover of seafood (at least the kind they served – mussels, scallops, clams, various kinds of fish, etc.), but this one was delicious! In addition to the above seafood, they also had shrimp cocktail, and they also had flank steak, pork, and chicken. And I found a new dessert that was yummy – a meringue “sandwich” with peanut butter filling! Mm-mm-good!

I worked off the bigger lunch than usual by participating in On Deck for the Cure. Several years ago Holland America teamed with Susan G Komen to raise funds for breast cancer research. I participated a few times (pre-knee replacements), but haven’t done it for quite awhile. After my surgery last October, I decided that I was going to make the effort to try to finish the 5K walk this time. They always give us a pep talk before-hand, and ask survivors to step forward to start the walk off. There were five of us, and one was my friend Jean that I’d met on the 2009 Grand Voyage (we sat next to each other in the HAL Chorale). She’d just had her surgery three months ago, and other than her, my surgery was the most recent. We set off to do the lucky 13 laps around the deck. I’d been doing some walking at the beginning of the cruise but backed off when I developed a sinus infection at the beginning of August. I started walking again after Scotland (the 15th of August), but hadn’t done that many laps at any stretch. Neither Jean nor I wanted to walk fast, so after we started the walk, we fell to the back of the pack, walking at our own pace. Cruise Director Bruce (who had been the director of the HAL Chorale) walked a lap or two with us before walking with some other participants. Walking at the slow pace made it possible for me to keep going. Jean dropped out after 10 laps, but I managed to make it the whole 13 laps. Despite finishing second- or third-to-last, I felt a great sense of accomplishment at having completed the entire walk, and I welcomed the complimentary neck massage they were offering to the participants. Now I have to keep it up so I can participate again on my next cruise!


After a lovely day at sea, we arrived early on Thursday morning in Halifax, Nova Scotia. We were scheduled to meet on shore for an excursion that would take us to Peggy’s Cove and the Fairview Lawn Cemetery, where many of the victims of the Titanic were buried. The day was warm and sunny – the warmest we’ve had since setting sail from Boston on July 23rd. Our kilted tour guide, Alex, was a wealth of information on the history of the area. Nova Scotia is Latin for New Scotland, and large percentage of the inhabitants are of Scottish descent. Alex explained about his attire, saying that all the guides wore kilts, but he wasn’t being traditional. Traditional dress requires that men do not wear underwear, and he said that the Scottish guards had to march across a mirrored area to prove that they were dressed appropriately. He commented that with the winters they have in Nova Scotia, he was not interested in being traditional. The Scottish guard did not used to wear brooches on their kilts until the time of Queen Victoria. Apparently on a windy day, the queen got more of a view than she had bargained for, so she offered her brooch to the kilt-clad soldier. Since then it has been tradition to wear a brooch or pin to hold the kilt closed.

We were very fortunate to visit Peggy’s Cove on a picture-perfect day as well as at a time when there weren’t yet many tourists in the town. It is a very picturesque fishing village with the most photographed lighthouse in Canada. He gave us a brief lobster demonstration, explaining how to tell whether a lobster was a male or a female, but since it had to do with measuring tentacles on the underside, I would need to have one of each to tell which one had the shorter tentacles (which I think was the female). Male lobsters are smaller than females, and you can tell their age by knowing their weight. He told us that they’d found an 87-pounder recently which would be way too tough to eat so they tossed it back.

We had time to walk over to the beautiful lighthouse overlooking the harbor and take many pictures, as well as walking through the small village (supposedly only 35 people live there, but it sure looked like there were at least 35 buildings)! Since it isn’t currently lobster season, the lobster traps and the fishing boats were in the harbor, affording us many excellent photo opportunities.

Our other stop on this tour was the Fairview Lawn Cemetery. The guide explained how Halifax came to be the final resting place for the victims of the Titanic. Even though St. Anthony, Newfoundland was much closer, it wasn’t equipped for something like that, so they didn’t attempt to go out to try and recover the bodies. So Halifax stepped up and sent recovery ships out to the site to recover as many bodies as they could. They had a very methodical way of doing this. They numbered each victim, as well as any belongings (clothes) that they might have had, numbered the body bags, and then made sure they matched all numbers. Families of victims who were identified were notified, and they were given the option of getting the belongings back. The White Star Line asked families if they would like to have the bodies shipped home, if they said yes, then the White Star Line told them how much it would cost. Since most of the recovered victims were traveling 3rd class, the families could not afford the expense of transporting the bodies home, so they were buried in Halifax. Graves were numbered with the same number as appeared on the victim. Some of the interesting graves were that of the Italian chef who had brought 21 of his family members on board to help him run the 1st class dining room, all of whom perished, the Swedish woman who went down with four children (who was portrayed in James Cameron’s movie Titanic with two small children as the ship was sinking), one of the members of the stringed quartet, and J Dawson, a coal shoveler on board who became the inspiration for Jack Dawson in the movie. The guide said that he’d had people come and cry over the grave thinking that Leonardo di Caprio was buried there. (Sometimes you have to wonder about people!!!)

After a quick lunch on the ship, we went back out and took the Hop On, Hop Off tour that included stops at the Citadel and the lovely Public Gardens. The Citadel is a fortress that overlooks the city. We timed it perfectly (for a change) and were able to see the changing of the guard. We were quite surprised to find that the guard coming on duty was a woman! We enjoyed walking through the Public Garden, and were particularly interested in watching photos taken of a new bride and groom, as well as someone who looked like death personified (face painted white). We would have loved to find out if it was some kind of tradition or just something they were doing for fun. Guess we’ll never know.

It hardly seems possible that our 35-day trip is almost over. Just the port of Bar Harbor remains before we fly home to Chicago on Saturday. Because of the timing of the tour and the need to pack, it isn’t likely that we’ll post the final blog entry until after we get home.

Barb

P.S. Soon after we got home I saw a segment on TV about people having "zombie weddings". When I checked it online, I realized that this was something that some couples are opting to do nowadays. Not my choice of wedding guests, but to each his own. (Sigh - whatever!)

St. John's, Newfoundland

We found that Newfoundland (pronounced NewfoundLAND, with least accent on “found” and most on “land”). It was our third stop in Newfoundland and Labrador including the small village we visited at the very start of the cruise. All three days were reasonably warm – in fact they were warmer than any of the European ports. In St. John’s, the British claimed the “new found land” for the queen in 1583. Today we learned that until 1949, Newfoundland and Labrador was not a province, but rather it had been associated with Canada without full provincial rights. After several invitations were rejected, in 1949, Newfoundland and Labrador voted to become a province by a margin of about two percent. Newfoundland of course is the island and Labrador the mainland, but the overwhelming percentage of the provincial population is found on Newfoundland.

For the second morning in a row, there was dense fog, but unlike yesterday when the skies brightened quickly and the warmest day of the year was experienced in St. Anthony, the fog in St. John’s was much more dense. St. Anthony is found near the very top of Newfoundland and St. John’s, the provincial capital and largest city, is in the far southern portion. We had hopes that the fog would quickly lift like it did yesterday.

As we got off the ship to board tour busses, we were greeted by the provincial mascots, the Newfoundland dog and the Labrador retriever. Of course, Barb had to take time to snap a picture of the dogs. I had planned to do so later, but that didn’t work out as the ship’s tourists had perhaps worn out the dogs with the constant photos and on our return, they were gone. In addition¸ we were greeted by some costumed musicians along the pier.

On this cruise, we have taken very few city tours but opted to do this in combination with a visit to Cape Spear National Park. As we left, our guide told us that we would visit Signal Hill (more on that later) last in hopes that the fog would lift and we would have great views of the harbor. So our first stop was a small village very near St. John’s, called Quidi Vidi. No one is sure of the origins of the name, but it could come from Latin. Quidi Vidi was a small fishing community with a secluded harbor where fishing is the primary source of income. Our guide pointed out an old wooden home, regarded as one of the oldest wooden structures which had not been materially changed, in North America. Many of the places along the harbor were being rebuilt as they had been virtually destroyed by a rogue wave about three years ago. From there we went to visit the attractive Government House and where the provincial Lieutenant Governor lives, all in a park like setting. An old wooden church was nearby.

Then we visited the Roman Catholic Cathedral, designed in the shape of a Latin cross and a church with beautiful stained glass windows and a very ornate ceiling. We followed a route above the city to Cape Spear National Historic Park where we visited the location of the eastern most point in North America. There are two lighthouses, but only one was visible but we heard the foghorns blaring loudly as the fog was still quite dense. Our view of the water was severely hampered by the fog unfortunately. At the site, there are also some World War II gun emplacements. It seems that in the last two years, we have seen so many World War II sites that I had been unaware of before – from Bora Bora on our South Pacific cruise, to our wonderful World War II trip over D-Day 2010 to some of the European World War II locations, to the island of Guernsey on our UK and Norway cruise last year, to the role St. John’s played in that war.

A brief stop to another attractive harbor, Petty Harbour, was followed by the visit to Signal Hill above the St. John’s Harbor (and visible from the ship). The fog seemed to be lifting so the decision to delay the stop at Signal Hill seemed at first to have been a good idea. Signal Hill was where Marconi received the first transatlantic wireless signal. It was also where the first telegraphic ship distress signals were faintly received. In fact it was the success of saving that ship, that made the Titanic overly confident that they could be rescued. Our guide commented that maybe we could have a good view of the harbor but as we climbed in altitude, the fog was present and we were disappointed that what we had hope to see was largely obscured by the fog.

As we returned to the ship, Barb noticed that there was a Tim Horton’s close by. We had been hoping to find a Tim Horton’s while on the Canadian portion of our journey, so we headed straight for it after the tour ended. For those not fortunate enough to have visited a Tim Horton’s before, it’s a chain of Canadian donut restaurants, named for a popular NHL hockey player, Tim Horton, who was tragically killed in an auto accident. Being close to Canada, the Buffalo area has lots of Tim Horton’s and having moved to the Chicago area which has nothing but Dunkin Donuts, a Tim Horton donut is a real treat. Maybe it’s good, because I am not nearly so tempted by donuts since Tim Horton’s is not an option. But I felt I deserved at least one Tim Horton’s on this trip and today looked to be a good bet! So we hoofed it over to Tim Horton’s with our mouths watering for the donut. (Western New Yorkers take it for granted, but as a transplanted Chicagoan, we can’t get a Tim Horton’s donut easily – much like our yummy beef on weck sandwiches which are totally unknown outside Western New York. On second thought, maybe it’s good we don’t have Tim Horton’s.) We went in commenting to each other that we would have a peanut donut and if they were out of those, a jelly donut would be a second choice. Unfortunately we saw none of either in the trays but we inquired about them. We were told that they no longer carry peanut donuts because of peanut allergies. Apparently the Canadians are also into uber-regulation of peoples’ lives too!! So we settled for a few TimBits and received our Tim Horton’s fix that way.

Now it’s one more day at sea and final ports in Halifax and Bar Harbor, Maine before we disembark our Voyage of the Vikings in Boston on Saturday.

Chuck

St. Anthony, Newfoundland

As we boarded the ship today, leaving St. Anthony, Newfoundland, the captain announced a couple very interesting statistics: First, he said that the locals were wearing big grins today because it was the warmest day of the year so far. He added that had we tried to come to St. Anthony last week we would not have been able to make this port because of the massive iceberg that had been blocking the harbor. Originally a part of the iceberg that had broken off Greenland in August of 2010 (about the size of Manhattan Island), it began to break apart, so we were very fortunate, not only to be able to get to St. Anthony, but also because we had such enormous and beautiful icebergs dotting the waters.

St. Anthony (and Newfoundland) is one of those funky areas of the world that’s a “half hour” time zone. It’s 2.5 hours ahead of Chicago time. So last night we got a half hour extra sleep, which was fortunate because our first of two shore excursions was scheduled to leave at 7:00 AM. All night we heard the fog horn blowing, and when we peeked out of the curtains, we saw nothing but very dense fog.

We were a little late in leaving because it took awhile for the ship to clear with Canadian authorities. We boarded the tender for a long tender ride into town. As we rode, we could see little other than fog, but we did receive a very warm welcome as a pod of dolphins accompanied us ashore.

Our first shore excursion took us about 45 minutes north of St. Anthony to L’Anse aux Meadows, a UNESCO World Heritage site. Just a few minutes out of town we saw a small moose, who seemed as interested in our bus as we were in it. Our guide said she’d seen eight moose on the way in, but we only saw that one – must have been too far past dawn for them to be easily visible.

L’Anse aux Meadows is the only authenticated Viking settlement in North America. Icelandic sagas had told about Eric the Red and his son Leif Ericsson moving westward. They first went to Greenland and settled there. Then Leif Ericsson went farther west in search of a land he’d heard about that had many, many grapes. A Norwegian explorer Helge Instad researched the area extensively, in search of evidence that would prove the arrival of the Vikings. After years of searching, he came to the area just north of St. Anthony to explore. When he asked locals if there were any ruins, they told him yes and showed him the mounds of ruins. Along with his archaeologist wife, he worked with the locals to excavate the mounds. After much research they realized that they had in fact found the remains of a Viking settlement that dated back nearly 1000 years. Their most prized find was a pin that was a typical Norse pin used to fasten cloaks, a sure indication that the people here had been Vikings.

Instead of excavating the area to death, they chose to leave it as it was (as one of our guides said, in hopes that at some time in the future technology would have advanced far enough to preserve things even better). We walked through the ruins with a local guide, who (like so many of the guides and re-enactors we spoke with today) had lived in L’Anse aux Meadows all his life and had worked with Helge Instad to help excavate the ruins. Each of these people spoke with pride about the part they took in this historical find.

Beyond the mounds of original buildings was another village. This was a replica which they had set up to look like the original. The sod-bricked buildings were so interesting: it was amazing to see the way these buildings were constructed. The sod bricks were covered with grass, and the insides felt pretty cozy. However, I can say that on a day that was about 70°. I don’t want to test it in winter. The re-enactors inside explained what life would have been like for the Vikings who lived here.

We took a very brief school bus ride to Norstad, another interesting site. It was another replica of a Viking settlement, containing several buildings and more re-enactors. The first thing we came to was a pig wallow (and the inhabitant was definitely not a re-enactor)! After watching the pig get its mud all lined up so it would have a comfortable area to sleep, we continued on to a huge building, which turned out to be the boathouse. Inside the boathouse were two Viking re-enactors who told us about how the boats were built. It was interesting to peer into the enormous boat and try to picture the people who might have used it. A little further on we came to the smithy. A teen-age boy was in there plying the trade. He explained that each village had only one smithy, and the smithy worked hard to keep his trade a secret. So he would have kept the doors closed so others couldn’t see what he was doing. With the fire he had to create inside, he would soon have gotten sick, and most smithies died young.

After a quick visit to the little church, we ended up in the chieftain’s house. This was divided into three sections. In the first were women who were making thread by hand from the wool (rather than using a spinning wheel). They had a 1000-year-old loom (replica) and showed how they would have spun the cloth from the wool. Back then, even the sails on the ships were made of wool! The next section was where the people ate. The cooking pots were in the center, and women were making flat bread. We got to sample some, and I even got to sit in the Chieftainess’s chair and pretend I was drinking mead from her horn. The third section contained an area where they kept the wood.

Having taught about Leif Ericsson arriving in Vinland, I was particularly interested in seeing these sites, and I was not disappointed!

When we returned to St. Anthony, we had just enough time to browse a couple of gift shops before boarding a boat for our second excursion of the day, Northland Discovery by Boat. We were among 13 people fortunate enough to climb to the upper deck to catch the views from the top. We enjoyed watching humpback whales feeding and diving and generally playing in the water. One even came within six feet of the boat, but naturally I was on the wrong side. (One lady teasingly suggested that I go to the other side so she could see the whales because no matter which side I was on, the whales were on the other side!) No matter, I did get to see them – just didn’t get pictures.

In addition to the whales, the guides took us very close to the amazing icebergs. They were by far the largest we had seen on our entire trip! It was incredible to see them so close with their white tops and blue undersides. They managed to get some ice for us and broke it apart so we could taste the icebergs. I got an enormous chunk and sucked away on the largest “ice cube” I’ve ever had! It was very pure water!

As we headed back to the dock, we caught glimpses of pods of dolphins ahead in the water. They were very quick, and as the guide said, by that time of day they aren’t as active. They’d probably spent hours entertaining the tourists and were tired of performing. But at least we did get to see them.

The day included two very different excursions – one historical and the other natural. Both were amazing experiences! We were very happy that the dense fog that had accompanied us almost from the time we left Greenland to the time we arrived in Newfoundland had decided to leave and give us sunny skies and the warmest weather we’d had since we’d left Boston on July 23rd.

Barb

Nanortalik, Greenland

We were very pleased to be able to make the port of Nanortalik, Greenland, after having heard that there was so much ice in the harbor a few days ago that they feared the ship would be unable to navigate through the ice field. Apparently the ice cleared enough. Maybe they heard the threats that travel guide made that all the guests would appear on the bow with their blow dryers in order to sufficiently melt it for us to get to this port of call. We had been looking forward to this port since hearing that Chuck’s high school friend Merlin had spent time in Nanortalik doing research back in the 1970s. So we were very happy that the ice chose to drift elsewhere, at least for the day we were in port!

Nanortalik, which means “place of the polar bear”, is the southernmost settlement in Greenland. We didn’t have any concerns about greeting polar bears, though, because we were told that sightings are very few and far between. Although these animals are beautiful and majestic, they are also swift-moving killing machines, so we’ll be content with knowing that they do come here on rare occasions. The original settlers were Inuits, and the first Europeans arrived in about the year 1000 when Eric the Red was banished from Iceland and sailed westward. Today about 2500 people live in Nanortalik, and most are of Inuit descent. Local economy is based upon fishing and hunting, but as in our case, it can come to a standstill if ice blocks the harbor!

A chilly 41°, it certainly didn’t feel like summer as we bundled up to head ashore! But we’re so grateful that we’re able to visit this picturesque little village that we just layered up for February weather and headed ashore. Rugged mountains surround the village, and icebergs dot the harbor, creating a beautiful panorama. In our lecture on Greenland the other day, we learned that there are so few settlements in Greenland that the only ways to get from one to the other (other than by foot or dogsled or something) are sailing or flying. After walking the roads of Nanortalik, we are convinced that there’s no other way to get other places. With such a small population, I would think that everyone must know everyone else! At home we are so used to hopping in the car and going somewhere else that it’s difficult to imagine being in this little town with no place to go.

As soon as we arrived in the village, we purchased tickets for a couple of local performances. With no shore excursions available, we were glad that the townspeople provided entertainment for us. Our first stop was the cultural center, where we were served coffee or tea and cake and enjoyed a half hour of folk dancing. There were about 20 children who appeared to be of Inuit descent ranging in age from about 10 to late teens, and their energy and enthusiasm were infectious! They seemed to enjoy performing for us, and they did an excellent job! We really got a kick out of watching their movements. Having been in a dance group, the boys’ steps reminded me very much of clogging. The girls did sort of a shuffle while the boys did a kind of clogging step. The oldest girl was wearing the traditional dress of Greenland, and I couldn’t help but wonder if part of it wasn’t sealskin!

From the cultural center, we walked to the church where a choir performed for us. As we waited, we suddenly realized that there was quite a commotion a few rows ahead of us. Suddenly the person running the event called something out in Danish (I assume, since Greenland was under Danish rule until the late 1970s), and then said, “Is there a medical person here?” A couple of people got up, got the man laid out in a pew and then asked if anyone had any sugar. We assume from that request that the person must have been a diabetic. A few minutes later, he was helped out (looking absolutely white), and we were told he was taken to the hospital. I’m sure they have good facilities, there, but I certainly wouldn’t want to experience the Nanortalik Hospital first-hand! (We assume from the captain’s comment when we left port that he did get back on board, thank goodness!)

The vocal concert was very nice. I really enjoyed it, but all the music was very, very slow! I prefer peppy songs interspersed. That said, they did an excellent job, and it was fun to hear them sing in what must have been an Inuit language. They ended with Amazing Grace and asked if we’d like to sing along. Those who chose to participate hummed rather than sing so we weren’t in competition with their words.

After the concert we walked along the main road until we could go no further and then opted to go up a trail across some rocks. The huge boulders looked like a giant had taken them and strewn them across the landscape. Despite all the rocks and boulders, wild flowers flourished, particularly buttercups and what looked like bluebells. We picked up the same road we’d been on and continued farther, walking past small houses and enjoying the magnificent scenery as well as the simple but colorful architecture of the buildings. We chuckled at the sight of a trampoline sitting in the side yard of one of the tiny houses, and farther down, someone’s wash was hanging out. It seemed like an awfully cold climate for either of those, but they are used to it because we saw several people in light-weight jackets. Eventually we turned around and retraced our steps since we were unsure as to whether the road would circle back into town or just end somewhere. It appeared that the entire town only had one or two roads.

After browsing through the one small shop in town, I opted to go back to the ship while Chuck headed in the opposite direction. He came upon a picturesque little cemetery that overlooked the harbor. Row upon row of small white crosses were there and most graves were decorated with colorful flowers. At the water, there was one large white cross that dominated the rest and was closest to the unspoiled beauty of the harbor. We heard one lady say that when she dies she’d like to be brought to Nanortalik and be buried there, looking out toward the sea. As he walked he saw lots of children out, some walking on the street, others jumping on their trampoline and having a great time. Trampolines seem to be quite popular in Nanortalik! Several adults were out too, carrying out their daily routines. What surprised him was that in addition to the small, colorfully painted houses, there were also several wooden apartment buildings, something one wouldn’t have expected in such a remote place.

While we agreed that we wouldn’t want to live there, we thoroughly enjoyed our second port in Greenland. It’s a very rugged country with a small population for its size, but the people are friendly and charming, and we’re glad to add it to our growing list of countries visited.

Barb

At Sea between Iceland and Greenland

After our departure from Iceland, we were to have two days at sea, the second of which was to be scenic cruising of Cape Farewell. Having been unable to cruise Prince Christian Sound on our way east because of the ice jams, we were looking forward to the scenic cruising of Cape Farewell with its icebergs.

The first day at sea was just a sea day with nothing but ocean and a few birds near the ship. On sea days, I try to walk the deck right away before other activities consume the day. The seas were calm so I made 16 laps around the deck—the equivalent of four miles. After breakfast, it was a morning of interesting lectures in the Showroom at Sea (the ship auditorium), first with Port Lecturer Barbara Haenni describing what we would find in our two ports in Newfoundland, St. Anthony and St. John. She was followed by a biologist, photographer, and world traveler who discussed the whales and polar bears of the North Atlantic. After lunch, the Icelandic professor, Dr. Thorsteinn Hannesson, described Greenland with emphasis on the more barren north and central part of the world’s largest island (he distinguishes Greenland from Australia in that Australia is a continent). Once again for our Formal Night at dinner, Barbara Haenni was at our table and we love that because she is such a wealth of information about travel and it has also been interesting to get to know her a bit better personally as well.

Earlier in the day on Thursday, our captain made an announcement that the likelihood of going into Cape Farewell would most likely have to be scrapped as the ice buildup is unusually great this year, so like with Prince Christian Sound, we wouldn’t be able to make our preferred passage with its wonderful scenery tomorrow. That’s a disappointment, but it’s not worth making our cruise as memorable as the Titanic’s! He also said, we would have to wait for aerial checks by plane spotters which periodically make these determinations to determine whether we could visit the Greenland port of Nanortalik. Apparently the ice is jamming the entrance to the passage to that small Greenland port and we may have to skip that too. We would have to wait until tomorrow and maybe even Saturday for that decision.

So Friday, the day we were to do scenic cruising of Cape Farewell, became a regular sea day. However, all four of the day’s lectures were too good to miss and all were very different from each other. First Barbara Haenni gave a rather different talk today. Instead of talking about what to see in a port, she told about the 1917 Halifax Explosion since we will visit Halifax very shortly before we disembark at the end of the cruise. I had never known about the Halifax Explosion but Halifax Harbor was a major port for sending military equipment and explosives for use in fighting World War I. Very briefly, two ships bumped each other in the very crowded harbor, setting a fire followed by a huge explosion that virtually destroyed Halifax and cost many lives. Even now, it is the largest unintentional man-caused explosion. She was followed by the speaker who described the origins of the North Atlantic Vikings and their push into the North Atlantic.

In the afternoon, the naturalist gave an interesting talk about the birds of the North Atlantic. He did it in such a way that even “non-birders” like me found it fascinating. Then, of particular interest to Barb and me, the Shore Excursions Director, Joe L’Episcopo gave a talk about the Chicago Columbian Exposition in 1893. Since our great grandfather (our paternal grandmother’s father) had been an ornamental plasterer in Toronto, he had been commissioned to do some of the ornamental plastering for the Columbian Exposition so he moved his family to Chicago where they settled. We wish we had asked our grandmother, who was 11 in 1893, what her impressions of the World’s Fair had been, but it’s too late now! The lecture described the process by which Chicago won the bid to host the exposition and the various buildings that housed the innovations of the late 19th century. It’s difficult to not have anything to do!

In the evening, we attended the Murder-Mystery Dinner since we had enjoyed that so much when we were on the grand voyage to the South Pacific. We asked our tablemates if they were interested in attending, but only our new friend, Marge, decided to attend. We were so glad we did it because we howled our way through dinner with laughter. The premise was that we were attending a class reunion for “Maasdale (as in Maasdam) High School”. The organizer of the reunion, “Nate Nurdley”, welcomed us to the reunion dinner and then stepped into the kitchen to make sure all arrangements were ready, there was a commotion, and then a report that he had been “murdered.” However we were assured that all was under control and that we were to go ahead with our dinner. Members of the staff played various roles including the librarian “Agnes Crabapple”, photographer “Tonya Flashoff”, French Canadian foreign exchange student and big time jock, “Jacques Strappé”, and several more. Throughout the dinner, the “suspects” went from table to table professing their innocence while casting doubts on the motives of everyone else. Every few minutes, “Mario Testosteroni”, the lady’s man and now detective, interviewed the “suspects.” Each table voted as to whom they thought the murderer was. The comments were hilarious and it was truly a fun evening.

There is always so much to do¸ even on our sea days!

Chuck

Akureyri, Iceland

Today started out with bangs and clangs as I awoke with a start at 2:20 AM. I seem to be the only one who heard a loud bang followed by bumps and scrapes along the side of the ship. I guess I have had too much exposure to Titanic because when I looked at the clock, my immediate reaction was, “That’s the time the Titanic sank.” No icebergs to be found so I knew that wasn’t the problem. I have no idea what we hit (or what hit us), but it certainly wasn’t my imagination!

We were really looking forward to visiting beautiful Akureyri in the northern part of Iceland. Located near the end of Eyjafjordur (Eyja Fjord), we had been told several times how beautiful the area was, and an added bonus was being able to see it through the eyes of people who actually live there!

When we said good-bye to Grétar in Reykjavik, we had agreed that we would get off the ship and meet him at our first opportunity upon arriving in Akureyri. So we went ashore at 9:00 AM and looked to see if he was there. After 45 minutes, I returned to the ship to retrieve my cell phone and his phone number. Having never made an International call before, I went to our travel guide Barbara Haenni and asked her how to go about making the call. She replied that if I gave the number to the ladies at the Tourist Information Center, they would make the call for me. Sure enough, the call was made, and we found that Grétar had called and left a message for us, but on Chuck’s cell phone. He would be at the port to pick us up at 10:30. That gave us an opportunity to browse two small tourist shops near the ship before he arrived.

Grétar arrived just at 10:30, and we were immediately whisked away on our tour of the Akureyri environs. Our first stop was downtown. We strolled through the streets enjoying the sights and peeking in windows. We ran into our Lancaster acquaintance from the ship, Betty Falconer Bascom, and introduced her to Grétar.

As others struggled with the climb up the many steps to Akureyrarkirkja (Akureyri Church), we drove up in style and parked out front. From there we had a beautiful view of the city and the ship in port. (The ship absolutely dominated the small waterfront!) Inside we found a very modern church with picturesque stained glass windows. Three of the five lovely stained glass windows at the altar have quite a story. Back in 1939 when World War II began, the people of Coventry, England decided to dismantle and store the stained glass windows of their church for preservation, just in case. The cathedral was destroyed in 1940. Somehow, three windows had gotten separated from the others and landed in an antique shop in London. An antique shop owner from Iceland saw the windows, liked their design, purchased them, and took them to his shop in Reykjavik. The church in Akureyri was built in 1943, and at that time a member of the church was visiting Reykjavik, happened to spot the Coventry windows, and wondered if they’d work for the altar of the new church at Akureyri. He purchased them, donated them to the church, and they are now the focal point of the altar.

We headed across the fjord for a spectacular view of the snow-capped mountains with Akureyri nestled on the shore and the imposing Maasdam in the forefront. As we drove along the fjord, we could see birds nesting in the flat lands and more horses than we could have imagined. The Icelandic horse is a breed of small horses (they do not like the term ponies) that was brought over hundreds of years ago. In order to keep it purebred, no other horses are allowed into the country. Grétar told us that riding is one of the favorite sports in the area, and it was very evident when we saw a group of children finishing up what we assumed to be a riding lesson. We stopped and watched the children dismount, remove the saddles and bridles, and begin to groom their horses.

Crossing back to the other side of the fjord, we continued our journey back toward Akureyri. We stopped at a greenhouse to see the plants. It was pretty amazing to see all the pansies and petunias in full bloom in 50-degree weather. Our next stop was a delightful little Christmas shop where we browsed for Christmas decorations made in Iceland. (We had to be careful – Grétar even found something made in Cheektowaga, NY, which will mean something to our Western New York friends!) Outside, I climbed the stairs to the world’s largest advent calendar. It was a small room with paintings next to each advent “box”. The paintings and boxes related to various children’s stories – The Three Bears, The Princess and the Pea, The Match Girl, etc. Whoever designed the room had quite an imagination.

Continuing our drive, we saw a very small village where Grétar’s wife Kristín grew up. The main employment in the town had been a sanatorium, but fortunately over the years there was no longer a need for it so the sanatorium closed. We had lunch with Grétar and Kristín in their lovely “summer home”. It was first owned by Kristín’s parents. When they purchased it, they had a lot of renovation to do because the people who owned it before them had kept chickens upstairs! They must have had a real mess on their hands! The building had originally been a two-room school with a dormitory upstairs. The upstairs is now a lovely large family room. It must be a delight to settle in there during the winter and look out over the snowy landscape! Heating isn’t an issue for Icelanders as they use geothermal heating. The ever-present hot water pipe runs throughout the countryside to supply homes with hot water and heating, which is very inexpensive. (One of our onboard lecturers showed us a picture of a Jacuzzi and said that it would take about 50 cents American to fill the Jacuzzi with hot water!)

Looking out over the landscape, we could see an endless sea of trees. Grétar said that his parents-in-law had planted a million trees in hopes that some would come up. There is now a virtual forest in the area, and the fruits of their labor have paid off.

Kristín joined us on our journey back to Akureyri. We spent a while walking around town and popping in and out of shops. We also visited the newly-built (2010) cultural center, which is located near the pier. It is right on the waterfront, and it has two large concert halls. There is also a tourist center where people can book private excursions. Stepping onto the outside patio afforded us a lovely view of the harbor.

After a final drive through Akureyri, we returned to the ship. It had been a wonderful day, and we could understand why it is one of port lecturer Barbara’s favorite ports. One of our tablemates commented that she’s been all over the world, but she’s never seen such spectacular scenery as she saw in Akureyri! We are in complete agreement, and were so pleased that the weather cooperated to afford us beautiful sunshine so we could further enjoy the day!

We are now sailing once again toward Greenland and have two days at sea. Supposedly one will be scenic cruising in Cape Farewell, and we are keeping our fingers crossed that we will be able to enjoy it. We were unable to get into Prince Christian Sound on our way east because of the large amount of ice, and apparently the same is true now. The captain has been keeping us apprised of the ice situation in Greenland, and we may also have to miss the port of Nanortalik. Ice is in greater abundance this year, and the port is getting blocked. Two ice maps have been posted, one dated August 15th and one August 17th. The one dated August 17th shows much more ice than the one on August 15th. We’ll just have to hope that there’s a miracle between now and August 20th, when we’re scheduled to arrive in Nanortalik.

Barb

Portree, Isle of Skye, Scotland

Some people know the Isle of Skye from the romanticized song, “Over the Seas to Skye”, but for those who aren’t familiar with its geography, it’s an island of Scotland and part of the Inner Hebrides close to the mainland. It’s an island of about 12,500 people with craggy mountains overlooking the lochs and seas. For the most part the mountains are barren but sheep and cows can be seen grazing on the hills and close to the road.

I have been to Skye four times now and to our port at Portree three times; Barb has been there four times too but each of us was here once separately from each other. Today was the best weather Barb has encountered in rainy Skye, but I encountered good weather when I was there without Barb; however that time I just ferried from the mainland on foot for better views of my favorite castle in Britain in terms of setting and view, Eilean Donan Castle at the Kyle of Lochalsh on the mainland. Since we visited Eilean Donan last year when our cruise anchored in Portree, we opted to do something different this time. We chose to take an easy bus trip called “Northern Skye Scenic Drive” which made a loop along the coast of the Trotternisch Range of Mountains. We chose to sit on the left side of the bus as we figured (correctly) that we would have the sea on our side of the bus. Since neither of us had visited this part of Skye, it was a new experience for us and we were pleased we had chosen this excursion.

Over and over we could see famous Scottish purple “heather on the hill” along with beautiful wildflowers (aka weeds) of white and yellow mixed with the heather. The twisted roads rose and fell as they revealed different beautiful seascapes. Thank goodness for digital cameras because I was snapping pictures constantly and can choose what to keep and what to delete! The weather today was much like yesterday – beautiful sunshine, followed by dark clouds and bursts of rain. The rain came two or three times today like yesterday but came mostly as we were riding rather than we would be out. There was plenty of blue sky and sunshine to enhance picture quality which made Barb say it was her best Skye weather ever. Several times we got off the bus to take in the beauty of Skye and to take advantage of photo opportunities.

We stopped at the Skye Museum of Island Life, a mixture of a few authentic and mostly recreated crofters’ thatched-roof cottages. We had seen numerous ruins of abandoned stone crofters’ cottages along the road but had a chance to go inside several buildings to see the way of life 19th century Scottish people lived on Skye. The thatch was fastened with wire because we were told that in this area, winds have been clocked up to 196 mph! Without the added protection, the thatched roofs would never survive.

As we approached the northern part of the island the imposing landscape of The Storr, the highest peak of the Trotternisch Range came into view. The summit rises to almost 2400 feet (low by “real” mountain standards) but high for Scotland. We viewed Kilt Rock which is formed in almost tartan-like pattern. We got off the bus to look way over the fence and behind us to watch a 200 foot waterfall fall to the shoreline below. From there we returned to Portree and had a few minutes to wander the town before boarding our tender to return to the ship for our early departure.

Having visited Skye just last year at almost the same time of year, we were pleased with the better weather this time. Seas were much calmer this year. Skies didn’t open with torrents of rain like it did at times last year. Last year, on our excursion, it became so rainy, that people didn’t take the opportunity to get out to see some of the scenic areas. This time, it wasn’t an issue. Last year, some afternoon shore excursions didn’t make their runs because seas were so rough there was concern that that guests wouldn’t be able to get back to the ship. Some of our friends last year just got to Portree on the tender and were told tender service was closing and only returns to the ship were being attempted. We were over an hour late leaving Portree last year as there was major difficulty in raising the tenders. We remember sitting at dinner last year watching the crew making many vain attempts to raise the tenders because the winds and seas were buffeting the small boats.

When we returned to the ship, our favorite Port Lecturer Barbara Haenni described our next port, Akureyri, Iceland. It’s our only Icelandic port on our return voyage and she describes Akureyri by saying that if she could visit only one port in Iceland, it would be Akureyri. That’s a powerful endorsement from as refined a world traveler as she is! We look forward to seeing our Icelandic friends, Grétar and his wife Kristin. We saw them when we visited Reykjavik, and since they have a summer home in Akureyri, we are pleased to have the opportunity to connect once again while we are there.

Following the Titanic theme of this cruise, the Shore Excursions Manager, Joe, led a Q & A session on truth and fiction related to the sinking of the Titanic in April 1912. He has written three books on the subject and is a real expert on that legendary ship. For an hour, he took question after question answering anything people asked about the ill-fated Titanic as well including how our own ship(!) compares with the Titanic. One thing we learned was that the Maasdam is a larger ship in terms of total tonnage and is wider but not as long as the Titanic. We also have enough lifeboats to accommodate everyone on board. (What a relief that is!!) But that has been the case since soon after the sinking of the Titanic.

And now tomorrow … our first sea day since a week ago Sunday PLUS an extra hour of sleep tonight as we regain an hour of the time we lost on our eastbound journey.

Chuck

Belfast, Northern Ireland

This was our second visit to Belfast in two years, so having opted to take the tour to the UNESCO World Heritage site at the Giant’s Causeway last year, we decided to do a shorter excursion this afternoon. That gave us the morning free for possible independent exploration in the city center of Belfast with some possible shopping, but unfortunately it was Sunday and stores didn’t open until noon. However we did decide to hop on the short free shuttle to the city center for a brief walk around there. On the pier were Barbara, the Port Lecturer and Joe L’Episcopo, the Shore Excursions Director. Ordinarily that would not be of note, but today, Joe had donned an official reproduction of the uniforms worn by the officers on the Titanic.

We took the first shuttle and checked out the information center with its souvenir shop across the street. From there we walked a few steps to the large, imposing Belfast City Hall. We walked around the perimeter taking pictures from many angles and checking the statues. Before we left the area, we thought we had remembered that there had been a Titanic memorial and wondered if we had missed it. Sure enough we had, so we walked back to the memorial and took a brief look at it and snapped a few pictures. Next year, by the way, will be a big year for both Cobh, Ireland and Belfast, Northern Ireland since the Titanic was built in Belfast and its last port before hitting the fatal iceberg on April 14, 1912 was Cobh. We had been told in Cobh that there were going to be special cruises going to Cobh, and also Belfast I would imagine, following the Titanic route. (Note how frequently the Titanic comes up in our references on this cruise. We certainly trust we are making only historic references to the Titanic!!) In “honor” of the occasion, each of us purchased Titanic tee shirts!

After an early lunch, we went to the pier to board our excursion called Grey Abbey and Ards Peninsula Scenic Drive. After a brief photo stop to view Stormont Estate, the seat of the Northern Ireland Assembly, we were on our way to Grey Abbey, a 12th century Cistercian monastery. The caretaker greeted us and showed us various herbs that had been grown there and what medical issues they were used to treat. As he was explaining these, almost literally out of the clear blue, it started to rain hard and those who remembered that they were in the UK, raised their umbrellas, but Barb and I along with most others scampered to the shelter of the visitors’ center. It was a crazy day weatherwise: we started our tour with blue skies and sun in our eyes (no complaints there!), followed by the rain, sun, and again another hard downpour later.

After the rain let up, our guide explained the areas of the abbey ruins until a “monk” in his vestments appeared and described the life of a Cistercian monk. For anyone interested, they could expect to arise at 3 AM (that rules me out immediately), pray and meditate in silence much of the day, and have the opportunity to talk with others only in one room and at very limited times. A person would give up their possessions as well as their families and established friendships to live the life of a monk. However a person had a full year to determine if this life was for them and if not, they could give up this lifestyle within the year. If they remained, the decision from that point was irrevocable and they were committed to being a monk for the rest of their life.

From there, we moved on to the seaside resort of Donaghadee where we were taken to the oldest pub in Ireland, Grace Neill’s Bar, established in 1611. We were invited to have an Irish coffee a strong coffee mixed with some Irish Whiskey (the Irish spell it with an “e” while the Scottish spell it without the “e”—the Irish maintain the “e” stands for “excellence”). Unfortunately it was so crowded that the only eating was outside, so we found a place under an awning. I opted for some “regular” tea but because soft drinks weren’t offered, Barb said she would try the Irish coffee. That surprised me because I didn’t know she was into whiskey(!), I quickly found she wasn’t as she nearly gagged on her new beverage. I had figured she would prefer a pot of tea to the Irish coffee. As we sat there, the winds picked up and sheets of rain came down, driving us into the pub, but almost immediately the rain stopped and once again the sun came out.

Back on the bus, we were given a quick tour of the nice waterfront on the Irish sea with distant views of Scotland and even Cumbria in England. As we made our way back to Belfast, we went through several attractive towns but had one experience that was rather unique. All of a sudden in one village, the bus slowed down to a stop for seemingly no reason. Looking far ahead, we could see what seemed to be a parade. The guide said we would need to check to see if this would delay us or if it would be brief. Fortunately it was brief as the marchers turned off. Then he explained it was a march by the Orange Men, a Protestant organization, which were commemorating the lives lost by Protestants in the Protestant/Catholic strife that lasted several decades during the 20th century. They were going to offer some prayers and sing some hymns at a memorial to the dead. Quickly they were out of our way and we resumed our journey back to the ship.

Very briefly, most will know that six Protestant counties in Northern Ireland preferred to remain attached to the UK rather than become independent with the rest of Catholic Ireland in 1921. Northern Ireland is about 60% Protestant, mostly Presbyterian¸ and about 40% Catholic. The Catholics have wanted to unite all of Ireland under the Irish government in Dublin and a lot of civil unrest and violence flared throughout Northern Ireland for years. British forces had been dispatched to Northern Ireland which made the government in London extremely unpopular. But in recent years, there has been an uneasy peace and on the surface, to tourists, everything looks fine and there is no visible evidence of unrest. It’s such a beautiful part of the British Isles that we hope the peace will hold in Northern Ireland. I can’t imagine the violence that these areas have witnessed, especially in Belfast, as recently as the 1990s.

Back on the ship just as the gangplank was due to be raised, we resumed our journey toward our last port in the UK, Portree on the Isle of Skye in Scotland.

Chuck

Cobh & Kinsale, County Cork, Ireland

Our one port in Ireland was Cobh, located on the southwest coast in County Cork. Cobh, pronounced cove, changed its name to Queenstown in 1849 in honor of a visit to the town by Queen Victoria. It retained that name until Ireland got its independence, at which point the townspeople felt it was inappropriate to keep the name in honor of an English monarch when they now had their independence and opted to change the name back to Cobh. Probably what most people will remember about the town is that it was the port of call for the Titanic before setting sail to America in April of 1912. It is also near the site of the sinking of the Lusitania. After it was sunk by the Germans, victims and bodies were brought to Queenstown. Queenstown is also the home of Annie Moore, who was the very first immigrant to be processed through Ellis Island; a statue near the port recognizes her.

Our shore excursion today took us to the village of Kinsale. We opted not to go to Blarney and kiss the stone. Somehow the idea of kissing a stone that millions of others had also kissed did not appeal to me, and I wasn’t fond of the idea of climbing the stairs in the castle only to manage to get down on the ground, turn myself upside down and kiss a stone. People who know me know that I already have the gift of gab, so I don’t need to be filled with Blarney! However, I got a kick out of our guide’s story about the Blarney Stone being associated with the McCarthy family! One of my students would really love to hear that story, I’m sure, considering the fact that she is a McCarthy!

The countryside we drove through was lush and green, and even though the skies were predominately gray, we enjoyed the scenery. Our guide explained that the area is known for its farming – both crops and dairy. This explained the huge number of cows we saw dotting landscape. Barley is a major crop, and apparently, so is grass. She told of a tour she had taken with French farmers who were absolutely fascinated by all the crops of grass they saw. And of course it lends itself to the name of Emerald Isle. The green carpets we saw were amazingly vivid!

We made a photo stop at Fort Charles, named for Charles II. This overlooked the town of Kinsale so we had a wonderful view of the town. Once we arrived in Kinsale, we were given nearly two hours of free time to roam around and do what we pleased. We opted to stick with the guide for the first 15 minutes or so, and she pointed things out that we may otherwise have missed. There were very interesting little shops and restaurants – one named the Milk Market Cafe, another named Mother Hubbard’s (complete with a painting of Mother Hubbard and her pooch, waiting expectantly for a bone), and a third named the White House. Our guide explained that the White House was named for the White Lady, which was a locally popular ghost story. (More on that later.) We also found a little purple cottage dubbed The Giant’s House. Apparently the man who lived there in the 18th Century was over 7 feet tall and ended up as a side show attraction in a circus.

Chuck and I split up and wandered around on our own. I was interested in seeing the colorful shop fronts, and I got a few pictures of dogs whose masters had left them standing or sitting at the doors to the shops – a common sight in the towns of Europe. Somehow I can’t imagine Molly waiting patiently at the door for me!

Another point of interest was a row of houses up the side of a hill. They were side-by-side up a narrow staircase, each a different color, and each just a few feet higher than the one next to it. It almost looked like if the top one went over, it would end up looking like the proverbial house of cards – all would tumble down the side of the hill.

I took the opportunity to stop at a local hotel and have a scone. It wasn’t Tu Hwnt I’r Bont in Llanrwst, Wales, but it was good. I joined a lady from the ship whom I’d met on the shore excursion to Mont St. Michel the other day, and we had a pleasant talk. She’s originally from the Midlands, England, but she now lives in Guelph, Ontario. She had gone to University in North Wales, so we enjoyed talking about places we knew in that area. Regarding the scone, I do have to say that it appears that the Irish give you a choice of cream or jam. The English and Welsh give you both cream and jam. I like that better – the scone I had today seemed to be missing something, but the service was fast so I can’t complain.

As we headed back toward Cobh, our guide continued sharing interesting information. She told us the story of the White Lady. This young woman, the daughter of a colonel who had been stationed at Fort Charles, married an officer stationed at the fort. On their wedding night, they took a walk and she noticed some beautiful flowers. She asked her new husband if he’d pick some for her, and of course he agreed. She went home to get ready for bed, and he found a sentry and asked him to pick the flowers. He sat down at the sentry’s watch and promptly fell asleep. The colonel (father of the bride) was making rounds to make sure the fort was secure and discovered the so-called sentry asleep and shot him for dereliction of duty. That was when he discovered that he’d shot his new son-in-law, as the sentry returned with the flowers and explained what had happened. The colonel went to his daughter and told her the story. Utterly distraught, the daughter flung herself off the cliff to her death, and she continues to haunt the slopes beneath Fort Charles and the village of Kinsale, either in search of the flowers or her new husband.

Our guide took a long time to discuss the difference between the Republic of Ireland and Northern Ireland, which of course is part of the UK. The flag of the Republic of Ireland was modeled after the French flag. The green stands for the Catholic heritage (St. Patrick, shamrock). The orange stands for the Protestant heritage (William of Orange), and the white stands for peace and unity. Northern Ireland continues to have problems between the two religions, but her comment was that she never dreamed that they would have the peace they do today. She said it’s much better than it was when she was growing up. There’s still a lot of dissent, but people are at least civil now.

Another interesting thing she said was one we’d never heard before. She explained the theory of why they drive on the left here. It comes from the Middle Ages when knights would want to stay on the left of approaching horsemen in case there was trouble. They would be able to draw their swords and protect themselves much better if their right hands were in the middle of the road. We both thought that was a very interesting theory, and does make sense. But we’re confused: why wouldn’t the rest of Europe react the same way?

We were glad that our tour had started out early because it got us back early, allowing us time to get a few things done before enjoying an Irish dance performance by a local group who had been brought onto the ship to entertain us. It brought back a lot of memories – particularly of St. Patrick’s Day at school. My last few years of teaching, one of the young teachers who taught right across the hall from me was also an Irish dancer and gave lessons in Irish dance. Every St. Patrick’s Day, we would begin the day with a short assembly. She would dance for us, and some of her students would also. She put out a “call” to other students who had done Irish dancing, and quite a number of students very willingly performed for the school. It made the day special, and they did a beautiful job. I know this is a digression, but I marveled at what a great job Megan had done in teaching the students – they could have easily kept up with these local Irish girls! The show was a great way to end our short stay in Ireland.

Right after the local show, we listened to Travel Guide Barbara tell about things to do in Portree (on the Isle of Skye in Scotland that we will visit in a few days). We have been there three times now, but we’re always interested in someone else’s take on places. And we’ve gotten to know Barbara better because she’s dined with us a few times. We always enjoy her talks, and we look forward to having her join us on occasion for dinner.

Barb

Falmouth, England

From the time we determined to take the Voyage of the Vikings and saw the itinerary, I had eagerly anticipated our return to Cornwall. Cornwall is in far southwestern England and most travelers to the British Isles have to be going to Cornwall as it is not a place one passes through to get somewhere else. In that respect, it’s much like Wales. We have not found as many visitors to Cornwall, but after our driving trip to the UK in 2005 where we made a point to spend some times in Cornwall, I was happy this cruise was going to spend time here. Our only real disappointment was that we were to be here only one day in such a wonderful part of Britain.

We debated as to which shore excursion we wanted to do since it was a choice of revisiting some of our favorite 2005 places which included the beautiful fishing village of St. Ives where we spent several nights, Lands End (the farthest point west in Britain) and a few other places we had visited. It was tempting to revisit those places since we had enjoyed them so much. Another excursion captivated our interest too as it was billed as “Classic Old Cornwall” and visited places in Cornwall we had never seen and this unique tour would be what was billed as in a “vintage English coach.” By the time we decided we would try some places we had never visited in Cornwall, we found that this tour had already booked, so we put ourselves on a waiting list and chose the other excursion. We weren’t disappointed but were sorry that we had missed out on doing something different. But a couple months ago, we received an email from Holland America telling us that two spaces on the Classic Old Cornwall were now available, so we booked immediately. And are we ever glad we did! This was a great tour, but then how could any excursion in Cornwall not be great.

I might say that Cornwall has the warmest climate in the UK, receiving the warmth of the Gulf Stream. First time visitors are surprised to see palm trees in Britain, but they are there in Cornwall – not the tall palms of Florida, California, or South Pacific islands, but palms nevertheless. Cornwall has its own heritage and they are trying to bring back the Cornish language similar to what the Welsh are doing, but only 2-3% of the Cornish people are able to speak it today. Cornwall is noted for its pretty fishing villages and in yesteryear was famous for its smuggling dens and pirates. (Remember Gilbert and Sullivan’s “Pirates of Penzance”? Penzance is a village on the coast of Cornwall.)

We arrived in Cornwall this morning to gray, overcast skies with cool, windy temperatures, more reminiscent of what we might expect in Scotland and Wales. I had expected warm, sunny skies and the best weather of the cruise here. It was misting when we went out to board our old coach. Barb and I didn’t know quite what to expect, both of us imagining an old English coach of the 18th and 19th century and maybe drawn by horses. We knew we weren’t going too far from our port in Falmouth so it made sense to us. Instead we were greeted by an old 1956 Bedford bus with soft, but smaller seats than we would find on modern busses. There was no air conditioning and windows would open from the top. Not only that, but the bus had no power steering and of course was a stick shift. We sat in the second seat so could watch the driver struggle with the sharp turns and the hills on the narrow roads. I might make a brief comment about the guide and driver. Both Peter, the guide, and Jonathan, the driver, were dressed like gentlemen, both with white shirts and ties. Both had lots to tell us about Cornwall and both had keen senses of humor that kept us laughing. Peter told us that we would be making a crossing on a ferry to St. Mawes with normal people, implying of course that we, well…. The day was filled with a lot of fun and humor.

We boarded the ferry for the crossing to St. Mawes across the River Fal estuary. We had about 40 minutes there while the driver had to make the hour long drive across a bridge to meet us at St. Mawes. From there we made the short drive to the best preserved of Henry VIII’s coastal artillery castles for a brief tour using the hand held guide devices. Across the estuary on the Falmouth side, is another fortress but it’s not as well preserved. We were told there needed to be one on each side to protect the estuary since, at the time, given the width of the estuary, cannonballs didn’t have enough reach to protect both sides of the river.

Our next stop was, for me, the most picturesque of the entire excursion. We were taken to St. Just in Roseland to see the lovely church there. We had to walk down an incline to the church where the church bell was tolling noon, past an old cemetery (except there were also some new graves as recent as 2010) with beautiful gardens and shrubs including some semi-tropical trees. It was along the water and the guide told us to imagine that the tide was in as we happened to be there when the tide was out.

A short distance away, we had lunch at Smuggler’s Cottage, near the small, but historically important village of Tolverne which played a role in the history of World War II. From Tolverne, American troops were dispatched across the English Channel to participate in the D-Day Invasion on Omaha Beach. General Eisenhower visited Tolverne to address the troops and we even saw a chair at the restaurant which he had sat in when he visited there at the time. We were treated to a traditional Cornish lunch of a Cornish pasty. For those unfamiliar with a pasty, it was used by tin miners and other workers as part of their lunch each day. It was a pastry filled with beef, sliced potato, turnip, and onion. The crust would be folded to form a sort of handle which workers with dirty hands could use to eat their lunch and then throw away the crust handle. But we ate ours on plates with knives and forks unlike the workers of the 19th century.



Our final unique event was to take a very short ferry on what was called the King Harry “Floating Bridge”. It was a short ferry ride that would save an hour’s drive time, but is one of only five chain ferries in England. Once on the other side of the Fal River, it was only a short drive back to the ship. We decided that this was one of our best and most unique shore excursions. But before reboarding the ship, Barb decided she wanted to stop at a nearby Spar (small grocery store). After we returned through security, one of the security guards asked if we would like to see a nice view of the ship. He took us around to the other side which gave us a great view of both the ship as well as boats in Falmouth Harbor. Then he asked if we wanted to see something else. We didn’t know what he had for us to see; it turned out to be a mother duck and some baby ducklings nesting behind a building. Then we boarded the ship and noticed a lot of activity on a nearby military ship. We were told it was a movie shoot for a Brad Pitt/Angelina Jolie film in progress. Unfortunately, Barb’s binoculars didn’t reveal our famous neighbors!

As we sailed from Falmouth, the rains that had fortunately stayed away during the day came with a fury, complete with dense fog that obscured what otherwise might have been a beautiful sailaway from Falmouth.

Chuck

St. Malo & Mont St. Michel, France

We were promised a rough ride with rolling and pitching on our way to St. Malo, France as we crossed the English Channel in rough weather. We needed to make good time in order to arrive at St. Malo before the tides made it impossible to stop. Fortunately, despite the warnings of rough seas, we didn’t feel it, and we arrived in St. Malo in plenty of time. Rather than anchoring, we were moored between what looked like two huge tires. Not sure of the reasoning, but it worked.

Our shore excursion which would take us from St. Malo in Britanny to Mont St. Michel in Normandy, wasn’t scheduled to leave until 2:00. We decided to go into St. Malo and wander around for awhile because all excursions were scheduled to leave from the pier rather than from the ship. Our friend Ange came with us because his wife Sally had opted for the panoramic tour and he was taking the same walking tour we were doing.

The three of us enjoyed the walled city of St. Malo. We explored several of the streets. I would have enjoyed stopping at a crèperie for a crèpe, but we didn’t have time. We decided that if we were ever in St. Malo again, we’d spend more time exploring because there was a lot to see and it seemed like a charming village. We’d have walked the walls of the city, but we were saving our climbing for Mont St. Michel.

When we returned to the pier, they were already handing out stickers for the excursions. We hung back a little because we could see that the bus they were sending out was already full. Our strategy worked because we were the first three to get stickers for the next bus so were the first three on the bus. The drive to Mont St. Michel took about an hour, and we had to stop briefly so our bus driver could give directions to drivers behind us as we were taking a more scenic route. I was really surprised to find canals and polders much like what we’d seen in the Netherlands. A lot of Brittany is farmland.

Our excellent tour guide explained how they were planning to move the parking areas away from Mont St. Michel so that people would have to park farther away and take shuttles to get there. We oculdn’t imagine the inconvenience and were glad that this is planned for the future. Our bus drove us right to the entrance. Masses of humanity seemed to be coming from all directions and swarming in both directions (up and down) as we entered the village at the foot of the Abbey. Our guide promised to move slowly so that people could keep up, and we were very pleased that she did just that. We made several stops on the way up the steep hill. While I have to say it wasn’t as bad as the Acropolis or the Fiji Rainforest Walk, it was definitely quite a climb to the top. We enjoyed seeing the Abbey and listening to the guide’s descriptions, but the throngs of people made it difficult to hear and see. We kept remembering our trip to Ephesus, where we had to keep a constant eye on our guide to try and find him. Our French guide was very petite and easily got lost in the crowd. She did put forth a lot of effort to keep her eyes on all of her charges though!

The abbey is perched atop an island that’s often affected by the tides. They’ve managed to build dams that help to regulate the tides so that there’s always land access to the abbey. Our guide pointed out a “sister island” in the bay that was so small it was hard to imagine that Mont St Michel was built on an island of the same size! The views from the top of the abbey were really something – there was sand and water everywhere, and people were walking out onto the sand bars. Apparently there’s some quicksand there, but it’s not bad enough to be threatening. Our guide said that you can feel it and get out if you happen to step into it.

The tour of the abbey took us through the nave and choir as well as the cloisters and other areas. It had been used for awhile as a prison, and in one case prisoners were used to turn a huge wheel that worked with a pulley to operate an elevator. This elevator brought supplies, including stones, up to the abbey. Pretty impressive operation!

Our trek down from the abbey would have been great fun had we had time to enjoy poking into some the shops that lined the route. However, we were scheduled to be back on the bus at 5:15, and it was a challenge to get there on time. Between watching footing, keeping track of where we were going, and dodging people who were heading up, others who were heading down, and still others who were popping in and out of the shops, we barely made it back to the bus. At one point I saw something bouncing down the stairs and realized it was my ship ID card. Someone else had noticed it and picked it up, saying, “Does this belong to someone from the ship?” I checked my lanyard, and sure enough, the plastic sleeve had broken off and it was mine. At least I didn’t have to deal with that when I got back!

We shouldn’t have worried. We had to sit and wait for two people. Our guide had counted and two were missing. We waited and waited, hoping a fall on the cobblestones hadn’t befallen those poor people! It didn’t help that two people just decided to change their seats, causing a fruit-basket upset on the bus so nobody could identify if their neighbors on the trip out were present or not! Finally after another check, the numbers appeared to be correct and we were able to head back to St. Malo. But by that time there was a terrible traffic jam. That one lane road leading away from Mont St. Michel reminded me of afternoon rush hour on the Dan Ryan! We were stuck and could do nothing but sit there and watch the minutes tick by. Finally we got out of the mess, and we arrived back in St. Malo about an hour late. Then we had to jump in line for the tender ride back to the ship. Not only had all shore excursions gone out at the same time, but they were all getting back at the same time, so we were relieved that we’d been able to get to the front of the line quickly. I was also very happy that I wasn’t trying to explain that I’d lost my ship ID! I would not have been happy!

I’m very glad that I was able to make the climb to Mont St. Michel! In all my travels to France, I’d never been in this area, and as our tour guide said, this is the third most visited site in France behind the Eiffel Tower and the Palace of Versailles.

Barb

Dover & Canterbury, England

As we prepared to set sail for the second part of the Voyage of the Vikings from Amsterdam, we went through our mandatory lifeboat drill on the walkaround deck. It was a very windy afternoon so everyone wanted to get the drill completed quickly. The early arrivals and taller people stood to the back and as more came, the newcomers shielded those of us in the back a little from the wind. A little bit late, but just before the drill began, an older lady arrived, announcing, “Oh, it’s very windy. I want to be in back.” Those of us who had been standing there thought she had a bit of nerve and without thinking, I said in my schoolteacher voice, “No! You were late. You can stand in the front!” I hadn’t intended to make it quite such a loud announcement, but those nearby chuckled.

The captain then made a general announcement that the sail from Amsterdam would be scenic but the seas would be very rocky and that the winds were high and we needed to be very careful and even have things secured in our staterooms. He also said we would depart Dover a little early tomorrow and that we needed to be back on board by 3:30 at the latest since the tides at St. Malo, France, our next destination, would make it impossible to drop anchor there if we arrived at the originally determined time. And if that happened, very simply, we wouldn’t be able to visit our only French port.

As we sailed out, I claimed a spot at the outside stern of Deck 5 and had the entire area to myself except for a few crew that wandered through. No one said I shouldn’t be there, so I stayed, watching the ropes be released and the ship beginning its sail toward Dover. By dinner time, with our table at the very back windows, we could see the industry receding and more farmland as well as additional locks and greenery appear. There also seemed to be a boat so close to us that we couldn’t see its bow. After dinner, I went out on deck to see this new boat and found it tied to the Maasdam and we were pulling it. Soon, I realized a lock was ahead and I watched us enter, the gate close and the water rise. Barb had gone down to secure good seats for the evening performance (good seats are at a premium in this theater unlike the Amsterdam and Westerdam which are the two ships we have sailed most recently). I went up and told her to go out to watch us clear the lock and I would save the seat. The rest of the evening was, as the captain promised, very windy and we could feel the boat rock back and forth.

This morning we arrived in Dover to be greeted on both sides of the ship by the famous White Cliffs of Dover, the chalky white rock that greets ferries coming across the English Channel to England. We love London and never tire of that great city, but decided two hours bus ride, four hours in the city, and two hours back was a bit more than we wanted, particularly since we have been in London more than any other city in the world of more than 500,000 people except for Chicago. We hated to be so close and miss it but were just as glad as we have seen reports of the uncharacteristic violence and looting in recent days in London. Much of the ship was on its way at 7 AM however so they could be back before the required 3:30 all aboard.

Instead we opted to go to Canterbury, less than a half hour ride from Dover. In all the times we have been in England, we had never been to Canterbury. We made a quick photo stop at the Dover Castle overlooking the English Channel. We were able to get some pictures with both the Castle and the Maasdam in it. From there, we headed up to Canterbury. The guide explained that if a town had the suffix “-ing” or “-ham” represented a town where land was originally owned by a particular family¸ while places ending in “-den” connoted that a pig farm had originally been there! We were heading toward Canterbury, originally a walled city. Without all the detail, after the murder of Thomas a Beckett, Canterbury became a place where pilgrimages took place (i. e., Chaucer’s “Canterbury Tales”). The guide told us that as pilgrims arrived on horseback¸ they wanted to arrive before the gates closed for the night. Thus, the horses were urged into a “Canterbury trot” (or canter) to arrive in time. (A canter is between a trot and a gallop.)

In Canterbury, our bus dropped us off for our short walk through the old city. We saw the sights there and stopped to look at Butter Market where the old market was centered. We arrived at the Cathedral, the seat of the Anglican Church, and the home of the Archbishop of Canterbury, the head of the Anglican Church. We went through the Cathedral on our own, being permitted to take pictures everywhere except for the crypt where Thomas a Beckett who had been murdered there, was buried. Our guide described the story of the murder of Thomas a Beckett on the bus during our return but there is a choice of great detail or none, so I will opt for none! The Cathedral and grounds were beautiful as might be expected. However, naturally major parts of the Cathedral were covered by scaffolding. We seem to find that a lot but must remember if none ever had scaffolding, the old building wouldn’t be preserved.
 
After visiting the Cathedral, we had time to wander the interesting streets of Canterbury and see the weekly Wednesday street market before our return to the ship. Now we await the return of the London travelers and hope they will make it back before the early 3:30 deadline. Tomorrow it’s ahead an hour and back from pounds to Euros in France before back to England and pounds the next day.

Chuck