Today we bade farewell to Sweden and ventured into Norway. It was a bright sunny morning in Stromstad, and the coastline looked beautiful. I went off for my morning shower with optimism, but by the time I had negotiated the card entry for the shower block, the three minute timed shower, operated by said card, and the lights going out three times in the process, my frustration was growing. Perplexed why such an upmarket campsite in many respects, certainly the first to offer a high speed dishwasher in the washing up area, should reduce it’s visitors to jumping through hoops to have a shower was beyond me. Rant over, we settled down to breakfast in the sunshine. The site was much quieter this morning than last night, when it had seemed like party central.

A large group of teenagers had been swimming off the pontoon and playing exceedingly loud rap music as they swam. A Swedish youth brass band and majorette group were staying in a couple of the on-site chalets, and treated the entire campsite to an impromptu concert, followed by the arrival of two groups of local Swedes and a caravan. Unlike the newer caravans, which seem to manoeuvre onto their pitch under remote controlled motors, this was an old variety, which needed man-power to push the caravan into position. It provided us with great entertainment, as they pushed and pulled the caravan, at one point crashing into their own car, before they eventually were happy with their final position. If we had wanted an early night, we would have been sorely disappointed. The noise went on until gone midnight.

After breakfast, we quickly packed, and headed northwards. In no time at all we had entered Norway, and less than an hour later we were on the outskirts of Oslo. Having decided against the city campsite, with reviews warning of unsavoury characters lurking around the site, we opted for a cheap hotel in the suburbs, with parking for the lad. After checking in, we headed off on the metro into the city. 

First we stopped off for a bite to eat and a coffee in the very pleasant Cathedral Cafe. The sun was shining, so we sat outdoors, and picked a prime spot to people watch as we ate our lunch. Next on the agenda was the National Gallery, housing the country’s finest works of art. I was slightly amused when the man at the desk offered Howard senior citizen discount, until I discovered that he assumed that I was eligible too. Bloody cheek! I’ve got another five months to go! It must be the new hair colour, I concluded.

The National Gallery certainly lived up to it’s expectations. The main attractions is Edvard Munch’s ‘The Scream’, but in addition, houses many art works by famous painters such as Renoir, Cezanne, Monet, Manet and Picasso to name but a few. It was a feast for the eyes, and I thoroughly enjoyed our visit.

Culture done, we wandered down past the Palace, Parliament Buildings and City Hall to the waterfront. We sat in the sunshine and enjoyed an early evening drink, before deciding what to do next. Howard looked up boat trips online, but they all seemed to be fully booked, so we opted to walk to the Sculpture Park. But on our way, we passed by the dock where the boat trips were departing from. On a whim, Howard went to the kiosk to ask the lady if there was any availability. To our luck, there were two places left on the evening Jazz Cruise around the Oslo Fjords, and we scooped them up.

What a hoot! We sat with an American couple from Rhode Island, who thankfully loathed Trump, and a lovely couple from Worcester Park, Surrey, who lived in the same road as our friends used to live – such a small world!

We had a lovely evening, cruising around the fjords, drinking some rather nice Chablis (which turned out to cost £70 a bottle!!) and eating a shrimp supper (well that was just Howard – I don’t eat shrimps, so opted for the healthy option – a waffle!). We had some very lively chat with our American buddies, and the jazz band played all night long – it was great fun. So an unexpected end to our day, but a very pleasurable one. 

We have both thoroughly enjoyed our brief visit to Oslo. It is a lively city, with some great museums, and a strong maritime connection. The surrounding fjords are beautiful, and a very good introduction of what Norway has to offer. I suspect we will be in Norway for several weeks as we travel northwards, but first impressions are definitely favourable. Bring it on!

Last night was another very windy night. Fortunately we had the sense to move Oscar so that his back was to the prevailing wind, so protecting the pop-up to some degree. It still meant for a noisy night, with the topper flapping away, but at least it felt more secure than the previous night, when the van had rocked and jostled for much of there night.

By 3am the wind was starting to subside, and this morning we awoke to a sunny day, if still a little blustery.

After breakfast, we headed northwards, following the pretty coastal route to Stromsted. First stop was a picturesque little harbour at Hamburgsund, and a quick visit to the supermarket for some bread and essentials. Across the other side of the harbour was the island of Hamburgo, and we watched the tiny chain car ferry make it’s two minute journey across to the island and back. One wondered why they didn’t build a bridge, but this method of transport was certainly more exciting. It reminded us of the chain ferry that runs between Dartmouth and Kingswear on the River Dart in Devon.

Next on our route was a return visit to Fjallbacka, where had visited yesterday. We returned to the lovely cafe where we had enjoyed lunch in the rain. Today, however, we were able to sit outside in the sunshine for our coffee, and watch the world go by in the harbour. This is such a charming place, well off the main tourist route, but clearly a weekend destination for Swedes, since it was decidedly busier today. There was also a rally of classic sports cars starting to gather in the car park, everyone taking great pride in their gleaming chunks of metal.

We eventually dragged ourselves away and headed onwards. We passed back through Grebbestad again, looking decidedly better in the sunshine today, but also much busier. It must teem in the high season, since all along the harbourside were masses of restaurants. The fishing boats were back in harbour today, and the fish market already closed, the lobster and shrimp catch well on it’s way by now local eateries.

After a quick wander, we headed on to Stromsted, along the coast. All along this part of the Swedish coastline are large dome-shaped rocky outcrops with flat tops. Brightly painted houses are nestled in at the bases of these rocks, and frequent inlets and tiny harbours litter the coast. Inland, the countryside is incredibly green, with fields mainly growing grass for hay or pasture. The grass is left especially long at the road margins, presumably to maintain a habitat for wildlife, but looked especially fine today swaying in the breeze. Sweden is a very tidy country. Every property looks well kept, and gardens carefully tendered. The Swedes, themselves, are very stylish, even when dressed casually, and are wonderfully polite and helpful. To our shame, they also exclusively speak English as a second language.

On our way to our next campsite, approaching Stromsted, we passed a ghastly looking amusement park called Daftland. I did quip to Howard that maybe it was meant for him, having made some spectacularly bad navigating errors just moments before. Life is generally simpler if he drives, and I navigate, but when we reverse roles, I must say that neither of us are at our best! I am slowly getting used to driving the van on just the wing mirrors (we now have so much ‘stuff’ in the back that the rearview mirror has long since become redundant), but felt happiest driving it in northern Iceland, where the roads bore a strong resemblance to those around where we live in Scotland.

The seaside town of Stromsted is bustling with people and the harbour full of pleasure boats. I must admit to preferring little working harbours, and we didn’t linger long before heading to our campsite.

We have managed to bag a brilliant pitch, looking out over the water, perched high above the inlet. It is a huge site, but from where we are parked, we can only see two other vans, since we are looking towards the view. I imagine it will get busy this weekend with families, but just now it is very pleasant indeed. Our only complaint is that we can smell the mouth-watering smell of our neighbours barbecue, and we had just planned omelette for tea. So we may end up changing our menu plan – somehow, omelette had lost it’s appeal. Time to re-consider over a Hendricks, me thinks!

Still having problems with downloading photos from the cloud – will post as soon as they appear.

Last night proved incredibly windy. If we had known when we went to bed, we would have parked in the opposite direction, to protect the pop-up. But by 3am, it was too late to start moving the van. Howard, delighted with his new pillow, slept peacefully, whilst I lay awake, listening to every creak, groan and flap of the van. Howard’s new pillow didn’t help my sleep either. It is a long pillow, longer than the usual size, intended I guess as a bolster. The result of this, is that it sneaks into my half of the bed, meaning that half my head has two pillows, and the other half has one. As you can imagine, not the most comfortable of arrangements. I tried to counter my pillow-less half with a cushion from downstairs, to try to balance my head, so to speak. This only partially helped, and with the increasing wind, my sleep was definitely fitful.

By the morning, the wind had eased a little, and I fell into a deep sleep. The result of this was that we were very late getting up. By the time we eventually emerged, two of our neighbours had packed up and gone. After showering, we didn’t finish breakfast til close to eleven – disgraceful!

We eventually got ourselves together, and headed out for the day. Having missed the check-out time, we decided to stay put on this campsite for another night, but to visit a couple of fishing villages recommended to us by the receptionist in Gothenburg. Neither of these were flagged up in our Rough Guide – but she had assured us that they were both worth a visit on our journey northwards.

Our first port of call was a gorgeous little fishing village on the coast called Fjallbacka. It was indeed worth a visit – I suspect one of those places that the Swedes keep to themselves. We had a quick wander around the harbour, and then opted for a late lunch in one of the pleasant waterside cafes. We made a good choice – the food was delicious, and we were well satiated. By the time we came out of the cafe, the weather was taking a turn for the worse. Grey clouds were looming, and the wind was picking up again. Walking back to Oscar we spotted a shop that sold cushion covers in the design of nautical flags, one of which looked just like the Saltire. We couldn’t resist buying it for the van, although as Howard  said, this could be the straw that breaks the camels back! Space in Oscar is growing increasingly tight, especially since Howard acquired his monster pillow!

We continued on to the other place we had been told to visit – Grebbestad, which happened also to be the home town of my hairdresser. Once more, this was a lovely fishing village, famed for receiving the bulk of the Norwegian lobster catch. It had a charming working fishing harbour, and pretty waterside houses. The only problem was that by now the wind was ferocious, and it had started to rain. I’m quite sure on a good day, Grebbestad would look delightful, but after a quick skirt around, we decided to count our losses, and return to Oscar.

We drove back to our campsite in Kungshamm, as the weather got wilder and wilder. By the time we returned, it was raining stair-rods, and we both got drenched putting on the external topper to protect the roof.

There was nothing to it, but to batten down the hatches, have a drink or two, and have our tea. Having eaten well at lunchtime, we settled for cheese and biscuits, and a rather lovely Croatian wine from Peljesac.

As I type, the wind and rain are still lashing outside. My meteorological office from Newport (the photo girls!) have assured me that the weather will improve tomorrow, so will we keep our fingers crossed for tonight, and hope that we don’t blow away.

 

This morning we made our way back into Gothenburg. I can’t understand why I get myself so stressed about getting my hair cut in unfamiliar places, but I do. This time, the girl was very pleasant and thankfully spoke perfect English. She was, however, less than complimentary about the colour of my hair. ‘Who did that?, she enquired. ‘My husband, on a ferry to Iceland’, I replied. There were a few moments of silence, and then she resolved to do something about ‘the unnaturally blonde colour’ he had applied. I must admit, I had grown rather fond of it. But she was having none of it – apparently, it didn’t match my eyebrows!

So an hour later, the gunk has been applied, and she is now washing it off. She positioned the wash-bowl in such a way that it felt as if she was breaking my neck. She then proceeded to massage my scalp. If there’s one thing I can’t abide, it’s hairdresser’s taking on this off masseuse role. She clearly couldn’t work out why I was so tense. ‘You’re hurting my neck’, I eventually volunteered. She then stopped this unnecessary ritual, and finished washing my hair. Howard arrived back just in time to watch the final flourish of the cutting. ‘What do you think?’, I asked. ‘Mmmh’, he replied.

Why are men always so ambivalent? Frankly, my eyes watered at the price, but I guess we knew that anything in Sweden was going to be expensive. Next time, I might just revert back to my handy trainee hairdresser in his boxers – much more fun!

Hair done, and repaired computer collected, we headed out of Gothenburg, and along the north coast of Gotland. We are staying on a very pleasant campsite on the coast, near a little harbour and marina. There seem to be a lot of little holiday cabins along this part of the coast – apparently the Swedes are keen on summer houses.

The pitches on the site are large, on a series of large grass fields. We parked Oscar as far away from the other tents and Big Whites as we could. In the same area as us though. is a German couple in a large white motorhome. They seem very organised, with washing lines, furniture covers, bike covers, barbecues – the lot. As we sat outside in the sun having a cup of tea, the chap was cooking his barbecue. At this point, his mobile rang, and he answered it. Although being forty yards away from us, his loud voice boomed across the camping ground. It was clearly a business call. He explained that he was doing a lot of travelling for work just now. A little later he complained that he was really very busy, and wasn’t sure if he would have the time! Howard and I were in fits of giggles. He clearly didn’t want to let on that he was away on holiday in his motorhome, cooking his barbecue. Slight frustration became apparent in his voice, as his food became cooked, and he ended the call abruptly by asking the caller to email him more information. I know eavesdropping is wrong, but it was really hard not to hear the entire conversation, and it certainly amused us!

We ended the day with a lovely walk after tea down to the harbour. No plans for tomorrow yet – we’ll take the day as it comes.

Yet again the iCloud gremlin has gobbled up my photos, but the ones from yesterday in Gothenburg have finally appeared, so I’ll post those in yesterday’s blog, if anyone’s interested.

After a cloudy start, the day brightened up considerably. By 11am the sun was shining, and the temperature started to soar. We spent most of the morning doing chores. Howard’s computer screen had imploded, flashing purple lines across he screen, so we sought out a Mac support shop, who seemed to think this was fixable, and hope to repair it tomorrow. Meanwhile, I had sought out a hairdressers and booked an appointment for tomorrow morning. Tasks completed, we set off to explore Gothenburg.

Gothenburg is Sweden’s second city. It has a population of nearly a million, and remains an important hub for container and ferry transport. Built predominantly in the 1700s on essentially marshland, it retains a canal network, that was originally used for transportation. The city was built largely by Dutch architects, who had expertise in building in low lying waterlogged land, and so many of the old buildings display a Dutch influence. Latterly, the city had a thriving industry of ship-building, up until the 1970s, when the shipyards were undercut by the cheaper Asian workforce, and the yards, which had been the beating heart of Gothenburg were forced into closure.

Today, there is evidence of much regeneration in the city’s former dockyard areas, with many new businesses and luxury flats springing up. The only hint to it’s ship-building past are the huge boat cranes that litter the harbour, left as a monument to time gone-by.

We caught the tram into the city, and stopped to orientate ourselves over a coffee and rather delicious almond pastry. Gothenburg is a university town, and the area around the university is thriving, with many open air cafes and restaurants. We then hit the shops, and purchased a few ‘must have’ items, including another feather pillow. When camping in Scotland before we left for this trip, we had always used two pillows in Oscar. For some reason, whilst packing for this trip, Howard had decided that this was an unnecessary luxury. After five months on the road, he has decided that he misses his second pillow – talk about princess and the pea!

We paid a brief visit to Gothenburg Cathedral. Inside it was light and airy, and wonderfully simplistic. Somehow, the more simple the architecture, the more impressive the building. Howard, as ever, was called on for photographic duties. It is beyond me why everyone keeps asking him to take their photos. If only they knew!

We then opted to do a sightseeing boat trip around the canals and harbour area, which was lovely. Our guide was called Oscar, so we thought it even more apt that we were on his trip. We gained a good insight into the city on this tour, and also appreciated the opportunity to just sit down and look – since by now the temperature was too hot for both of us. 

Tour ended, we headed back on the tram. Unlike the trams in Edinburgh, the tram system in Gothenburg is well used, and very efficient. Since there is no underground system in the city, the trams are used by all the workers to commute in and out of the city for work. Back at the dock area where we are staying, we enjoyed a quiet drink in the evening sunshine, followed by supper.

Hopefully tomorrow’s hair appointment won’t be too traumatic, and Howard will get his computer fixed. Then we will be heading northwards into Gotland. I’ll let you know if the princess likes his new pillow!

 

Today we bade farewell to Denmark, and caught the ferry to Sweden. We first drove to Freidrikshavn on the east coast of Jutland, filled up with diesel (fuel is significantly cheaper in Denmark than Sweden we had been told), grabbed a quick coffee, and then made our way to the port. Freidrikshavn is a busy port, operating several ferry routes and a hub for container vessels. There seemed to be tons of lorries in our ferry queue, and we began to doubt there would be room for us, since we were one of the last to be loaded. They actually sent ourselves and the few other camper vans up a completely separate ramp in the end, and onto a higher level on the car deck. Compared with our recent ferry experience coming back from Iceland, the deck was palatial, with room between the vehicles to actually open your car doors. The ferry was full of foot passengers from Sweden, hauling large fold-up trolleys. It turns out that alcohol is significantly cheaper in Denmark, so the thing to do is to catch the ferry across from Sweden and stock up on booze. The queue in the Duty free shop was endless. Each customer was limited to six slabs of 24 cans of lager /beer, and everyone seemed to have purchased their limit, in addition to spirits and wine. Whole families seemed to have come across for the day trip, many with push chairs, which more often than not, had substituted babies for booze!

The ferry trip was uneventful, despite our earlier fears of a rough crossing – the winds this morning on the campsite hit 40 mph, and we had to put down the roof before we had finished packing, worried that the pop-up frame would distort. In anticipation, I took the last of my Stugeron tablets, and apparently snoozed for most of the crossing.

When it was time to disembark, one small saloon car on our deck level was having so much trouble fitting all their cases of lager and beer back onto their vehicle, we feared that there wouldn’t be room for Granny and the baby. The ferry staff shouted at them repeatedly as they struggled to squeeze everything in, and in the end, they let the floor down from the higher level on top of them (not squashing them, thankfully), but trapping them until all the cars from the higher level has driven off, and the roof raised again.

We arrived in Gothenburg early evening. It is a very busy shipping port, and it took a while to negotiate the docks. We have noticed that for the first time in weeks, it starts to get dark in the evenings – a novelty after the near endless daylight in Iceland.

Tomorrow we will explore the city – we are staying a little outside the centre, overlooking the Gota alv river. We are looking forward to seeing what the land of Abba, Ikea and meatballs has to offer! Howard is already practicing his Mamma Mia moves!!

Today started with promise. It looked to be another hot, sunny day. Howard and I decked out accordingly in shorts and sandals, and sat in the sunshine to eat our breakfast. We considered a bike ride, but thought it might get too hot, so opted to leave it until the evening, when it might be cooler.

So instead, we decided on a short trip northwards to Skagen (pronounced skain), to the most northerly tip of Denmark. Within minutes of setting out, the clouds started gathering. By the time we arrived, in retribution for moaning yesterday about being too hot, the weather started to look decidedly dodgy. First we explored the town, which was much larger than we had expected. Typical of Denmark, it was spotless and very well ordered. All the buildings in the old town are painted ochre, with red roofs. Apparently it is local custom that every Whitsuntide, everyone re-paints their homes in ochre and lime, so maintaining the pristine and uniform appearance.  

My guide book had recommended the Skagen Museum cafe as a good place to eat – so we headed there for coffee and a bowl of soup. It was indeed lovely, the cafe set in peaceful gardens, with a profusion of beautiful pink peonies growing all around. As we left the cafe, it started to drizzle. Undeterred, we had a quick look around the town. They seem to specialise in museums in Skagen. As well as the town museum, there was a Teddy Bear Museum and an Artist’s Museum. Apparently the luminous light in Skagen is favoured by artists, a little like St. Ives in Cornwall, and has given rise to the ‘Skagen School’ of artists.

We then headed up to the peninsula. By now the rain had truly started. The top at Grenan is a narrow stretch of dunes, with sandy beaches either side. The very tip is just a few metres wide where the waters of Kattegat and Skagerrak meet, and you can put a foot in either ocean. Since, by now, the rain was of stair-rod variety, we opted to make the journey out to the point in a Sandormen, which translates as ‘Sand Worm’. This actually sounds much more exciting than it really is – in reality it turns out to be a tractor-driven carriage. The benefit of this mode of travel though is that it is rain-proof.

So a hardy group of us set off on the short journey out to the point. When we arrived, it was raining so hard, that some of the passengers opted not to even get off the vehicle to have a look, but of course, we did. Stood at the water’s edge was a group of young girls who had obviously walked out to the point, but were mightily relieved to see that a means of transporting them back had just arrived. 

As I walked around to take a photo of the Sand Worm before getting back on board, who should appear but David Bailey again. As I looked up, there he was, taking photos of the young tourists. First a pair of Oriental girls, and then, seeing that this was his thing, another larger group asked him to take their photo. It really is beyond comprehension how often he manages to get asked to take people’s pictures!

Very bedraggled from our trip, we headed back to Oscar to dry out. We got chatting to an English couple who had spotted our GB plates, and wanted to know about our trip – I think all the flags on the inside were a bit of a giveaway!

Back at the campsite, we decided to pop the few yards along the road to a restaurant we had spotted. The menu was only in Danish, so Howard tried to use his special ‘Translate App’. ‘Ah’, he said, ‘Hospitalised Shrimps!’ Clearly, the App isn’t that good! We ended up eating our bodyweight in fish. Howard opted for their tray of six fish, cooked in different ways – smoked mackerel, hot smoked salmon, fish cakes, prawns, some sort of fish terrine and a grilled fish of unknown origin. If you think that sounds a lot, the size of my fish and chips was humungous. The piece of cod fell off both sides of the plate. Needless to say, Howard ended up with seven pieces of fish – his six, plus quite a lot of mine. I’m hoping all that fish oil will be good for his hair!

Tomorrow we catch the ferry to Sweden. Not many photos today because of the weather – the sunset was taken last night, from the beach by our campsite. We will leave Denmark with very fond memories – a lovely country with charming friendly people. Definitely a place to return to in future.

P.S. Have just managed to add photos for Days 147 and 148 that couldn’t previously add, in case anyone interested!

Yesterday evening turned out to be a right hooley. After our G & T in the bar, we de-camped to the restaurant, having decided to treat ourselves on the last night, and also frankly fed up with, by now, very warm cheese and biscuits.

It seemed strangely quiet in the restaurant. After we finished our meal, we decided to have coffee back in the lounge bar, before heading off to bed. As we approached, we heard the now familiar sound of the accordionists. As we walked into the lounge, we discovered where the rest of the passengers had gathered. It was completely heaving with people, all standing in circles, linking arms, like in ‘Auld Lang Syne’, singing their hearts out. It was truly a sight to behold. The singing was being lead by a rather plump gentlemen in a bright red velvet jacket. There was not a single soul in the entire room (and it is a large room) who wasn’t singing and joining in the fun. Howard and I just chuckled to ourselves. Never before had a ferry trip been so eventful.

The group singing and dancing went on until 11.30pm. I suspect it was supposed to finish earlier, since I gathered on at least two occasions that they were playing the last song. I must admit that this whole episode was quite infectious. I found myself tapping my feet, and humming along. Howard even had a little jig.

Eventually the lights went bright, and people started making their way back to their cabins, all with smiles on their faces.

This morning was tough. The tannoy came on at 7am to say that we would be arriving in Denmark in the next hour, and we were to vacate our cabins. The mood amongst the passengers was definitely subdued, as we all sat quietly waiting for the car deck to open.

As predicted, we were the last car out, bar one other. We were completely wedged behind a small truck, whose canopy was less than a centimetre from one of our wing mirrors. Howard stood protectively guarding Oscar, like a worried parent.

Eventually disembarked, we headed for town to stock up on supplies and do some chores. Howard was in desperate need of a haircut, as am I. We found a barbers, but all the female salons were closed. Despite just asking for a tidy up, the barber set forth on Howard’s hair with gusto. He came out a new man. A new grey man! The barber had somehow managed to cut all his brown bits off, much to my horror. Every time I look at him now, I’m wondering who is this in the van with me?!

We returned to the campsite where we stayed the night before catching the ferry to Iceland, nearly a month ago. We needed to return here, since a certain person (and it wasn’t me), purchased a new Camping Gaz cylinder here, but was so busy gassing to the woman, that he left it behind on the counter. We realised the error as soon as we had landed in Iceland, and called the campsite, who agreed to keep it for us until we returned. We ended up cooking in the van much less than we had anticipated whilst in Iceland, largely due to the poor weather, so as it turned out, we hadn’t needed this spare cylinder after all.

We had just set up camp in our previous pitch, and put the table and chairs out, when a sodding ‘Great White’ came and parked up right next to us (despite there being an entire field to pick from), and faced themselves so that they are looking straight into our van. What is it about these people?!! Howard looked their vehicle up on Google – it is an all-singing, all-dancing £108,000 vehicle. Who would spend all that money, and then spend their vacation parked within two feet of us? I have given Howard full permission to snore all night long!

The rest of the day was spent doing chores. We filled three huge washing machines with dirty washing (none of the campsites or guest houses had washing facilities in Iceland), and tried to plan for the next stage of our trip.

Having been chilled to the core in Iceland, we are now finding the weather way too hot for us. This afternoon, the temperature must have reached thirty degrees, and we just wilted in the heat. I know – there’s no pleasing some people.

We have an early night planned, after our abrupt start this morning. Hopefully, the ‘Big White’s’ TV won’t keep us awake. Otherwise, I might have to set Howard off singing his bass part from Oklahoma. Okla – homa! Okla -homa! That should do the trick!

I leave you with just a few photos from last night – the band, the Compere, the audience dancing, and Howard dancing (sorry rather dark)! Also check out the new grey man!|

Today, we face a whole day at sea – yawn. Just after breakfast, we passed the Shetlands. This time, disappointingly, our phones didn’t ping in with ‘Welcome to the UK’, and neither was the sun shining, as on our outward trip. Howard did take a wander up on deck, whilst I was typing the blog, and reported that the ‘Oom-Pa’ band were still playing though, in the bar on the deck. I suspect by the end of the day, therefore, that most of the passengers will be rather inebriated, as this is their only source of entertainment!

OK – a brief update on the ferry status. I have just done a couple of laps of the boat, whilst waiting for photos to download. Three hours on, the accordian players are still up on deck, in the covered bar, playing their hearts out! There are twelve people sitting in the lounge with us, five in the duty free shop, four sitting in the corridor seats, four up on deck – one doing yoga, one drinking a large bottle of beer, and an elderly couple reading. Everyone else appears to be in the covered bar on deck, drinking profusely, and singing heartily in Danish. The band have now handed out booklets with the words to their songs. It’s utterly hilarious! It’s half past one in the afternoon, and they are showing no sign of stopping this never-ending performance. I spoke to one of the band members between songs. They are a famous accordion group in the Faroes. They are travelling to Denmark, staying briefly, then returning to the Faroes. They certainly have a captive audience here, and they are going for it. I have never, in my life, seen such a happy group of ferry passengers! By the end of today, I may know the words to some of their songs! Howard may be insane!

Final update! Just returned to our room to find two sweet little old ladies in the room opposite us, dancing down the corridor back to their room, rather tottery, humming one of the accordionists songs. Back up in the ‘sky Bar’ on deck – the musicians are still playing, although only two of them now (this is 6pm, seven hours after they started)! In their music cases sit empty bottles of vodka – every picture tells a story. There is an over-riding stench of stale beer and bacon on deck, but you’ll be pleased to hear that the passengers are still singing!! You couldn’t make it up!

P.S. Still no photos – the ship’s WiFi seems to have gone the same way as most of the passengers. So, if you can’t beat them, join them – we’re off to ‘Happy Hour’.

After only a night on board, I am starting to feel like a caged animal. There is only so much that you can do on board a boat – eat, sleep and look out to sea. After breakfast in our cabin, we treated ourselves to coffee and cake in the lounge. The barman remembered us from the outward trip. ‘You’ll be needing a knife to cut the pastry in half, I guess?”. I find it hard to believe that we are the only people on this boat that share a large pastry, but maybe we are?

By late morning, the trip started to become exciting again – we were approaching the Faroes. They came in sight at about 11am, but we did not finally dock til gone three. 

The islands slowly got closer and closer.

Within a mile or so of reaching the narrow channel between some of the islands, a dolphin  leapt out of the water, as if to greet us. It circled the boat, before eventually disappearing off into the ocean. It felt as if it was welcoming us to the Faroes.

We stood on deck for two hours or so, watching the looming grey /green cliffs go past. Occasionally, we would see tiny little communities nestled on the shore of the fjords. So isolated, it is hard to understand how these people survive.

Eventually we docked at Torshavn, the capital. Like before, we had opted to book a trip out to see the island. Last time, our guide had been a charming lady who lived in Torshavn, with a gentle lilting voice and kindly disposition. This time we ended up with the Faroe’s version of Tom Jones – loud, brash, constantly laughing at his own jokes, and bursting into song. I preferred the lady!

The coach took us off across the island of Streymoy, where the capital is sited, and across the bridge onto the neighbouring island of Eysturoy. A 7km tunnel is currently being constructed between the islands, but for now, the only communication is a bridge at the narrowest point, across the range of mountains behind the capital and northwards. The scenery en route was stunning. Huge rugged mountains and deep fjords. The guide told us that the long fjord between the two islands had been a base for the British Navy in the North Atlantic in the 2nd World War. It made me wonder if perhaps my dad had ever been here, when he served on destroyers in the war as a WT Operator.

As before, we saw hundreds of sheep grazing the slopes. Unlike in Iceland, many of the Faroese sheep only seemed to have one lamb. In Iceland, every sheep had two – such that the rules of the road were that if a sheep wandered into the road, you waited for the other two to pass. With a population of 50,000 people, sheep outnumber the population by two to one. We passed many fish farms in the fjords, and then a fish processing plant. We were told that at it’s peak, the plant was processing between 1,000 and 2,000 tons of herring and mackerel per day, that was being caught off the Faroese waters. No surprise, therefore, to discover that 95% of the Faroese income comes from fishing.

We eventually came to a charming little fishing village in the far north eastern tip of Eysturoy called Gjogv. This quiet little village is set closed in by the mountains, and with the harbour set in a deep natural gorge in the rock. I read that in rough seas, the fishing boats are winched out of the harbour to prevent them from smashing into the rocky walls of the cleft. A simple white and green church stands at the foot of the village. It was here that the first consecration service was held in Faroese, marking a milestone in the acceptance of Faroese as the national language, rather than Danish. A sculpture of a mother and two children by the church commemorate all the fisherman lost at sea over the years. In 1870, half the male population of the village were lost at sea, when two eight men boats went down. At the quayside, Howard and I watched a fisherman washing and gutting his catch of the day – a good haul. Clearly the waters here are still teeming with fish, which explains why the Faroes opted not to join the EU, like it’s Danish rulers, for fear of losing their fishing rights.

On the way back to Torshavn, I realised why I loath coach trips so much. Passing one fjord, we saw a group of people hauling a rowing boat out onto the beach. At the next fjord, we saw two rowing boats out on the water. They looked virtually identical to our Scottish rowing skiffs, except they seemed to have six sets of oars, three each side, with the rowers sitting alongside each other. Howard and I were itching to stop and look, but the coach just went sailing past, the guide more interesting in telling one of his awful jokes. It also made us think of home – conscious that our brilliant Wormit rowers had bagged a haul of medals at the Broughty Regatta last weekend – a first for the club, and very well deserved.

By the time we arrived back at Torshavn, it was time to board the boat again. As we pulled into the dock, our guide burst into song again – Shirley Bassey’s ‘My Way’ – there are no words! Frustratingly, then boat then was late leaving, meaning that we could have spent another hour or so wandering around Torshavn. The delay was made more bearable by a group of Faroese who had just joined our boat. These eight men were a group of accordionists who play as a band, and they proceeded to entertain the passengers with a spontaneous concert of accordion ‘Oom-Pa’ music, both in the lounge, and then up on the deck. It just made us smile, as all the Danish speaking passengers joined in singing with the music. A lovely way to end the day.