Final day at sea; packing, checking and saying goodbyes, then home

The adventure finished as it started...the photographer had been chasing me around the ship for photos all the time. He spent ages attempting to catch me off guard and I had remained vigilant....until Cobh. He caught me.

I had walked off the ship behind another lady who had obscured him and his camera. At the very last minute I spotted him, too late, he laughed, I laughed and this was the result. I was amazed it came out so well, so promptly bought it. Lets face it how could I resist, it's another memory and all memories are fun to recall.

 As we finally came into Southampton, I went to deck 6 and had my last ginger ale. I sat in one of rounds and watch the coast slip by and get closer to the centre of Southampton. My cases were long gone and I had left my cabin for the last time. I wouldn't be returning to 5009, that would be occupied by the next passenger off on a weeks trip to Norway.


I went along and thanked the bar staff who had been such fun and then headed back into the Market Place for my last round of goodbyes to the chef, the waiters and to the others I had had such excellent banter with throughout the trip.

The last and possibly most important person was my cabin steward, a lovely, quiet man who worked quickly and smiled always. He gave me towel folded elephants and hippopotamus and blue towelling hearts with red petals inside. He gave me extra teabags and milk and was always keen to offer me whatever he could to make my time even better. He was wonderful and I thank him for that.

It came over the tannoy, group one was ready to depart. It would be me very shortly as I was group four. I would be picking up a taxi and getting to the station for 09:00. With luck and good connections I would be home for around midday.

I'm not thinking about that just yet, I'm still floating around Iceland, Cobh, Bruges and Amsterdam and if you don't mind I'm staying there for a few days.

Tenerife next and that's about 7 weeks away........happy days.

Cobh; part two, the second foray before departing

Refreshed and replenished, this time I turned right instead of left. I walked along the sea edge, past the car park for the station (I presume)d and all the camper-vans happily parked there?
 Maybe not a station car park then, it is a Monday after all and the sort of vehicles there were not what one would call commuter traffic. Even the bays looked designed for campers, but without the electric pick up points.
The new houses sat in a neat row along the quayside and small boats bobbed happily on the sloping bank of a natural section of harbour . 
I wondered how it would fair in the winter, but, looking around, there were so many islets and the surrounding coastal headlands, the strongest of the winds would have probably blown by.
I wandered back. 
Although we had until 18:00 before we had to be back on board, the light levels were already dropping and with it the temperature. It may not be windy but it certainly seemed to hold the chill.
 I wanted to get back to the station, just by the gangway, because one of the sheds there has been turned into a museum, gift shop, cafe and I wanted to at least get a look inside before it was time for me to get back on board.
I had another aspect to consider too, I was getting hungry, very hungry indeed.

 
 The shed is decorated using the White Star Line memorabilia and in their colours. Staff where in appropriate clothes of the time and statues stood around waiting for their chance to board. lifesize and very life-like, they really did give an idea what it must have been like when she sailed.

The clock keeps perfect time in the main entrance way, and the handcarts are laden with waiting luggage

 There is a large gift shop which I wandered around. It's filled with the usual trinkets one would associate with Ireland and the whiskey trade, glassware and jewellery. I moved on. It's quite expensive and I did wonder if it would have been cheaper in town.
The exhibition itself houses records of people, the story in detail and copies of old photographs from that era.
I didn't go in because I was running out of time, and it was 15 euros to enter. I wouldn't have been able to appreciate that 15 euros if I'd gone in with one eye on the clock, I didn't want to miss sailing, we were almost home after all.
The large cafe in the middle was very busy. They did everything from pots of tea with fresh cream scones to Irish stews and soups, breads and cheeses. It smelt wonderful and as my mouth had begun to water, I knew it was time to leave and get some food I knew I could eat. 


I sat on deck 12 with a cup of tea and watch as we departed, slipping away silently, to begin our last day at sea and then home. The departure was filled with sadness as well as smiles; we'd done the tour and now it was packing up and getting ready to catch the trains home.
My mind, momentarily flitted to National Rail and potential delays....hope not.
With a blink of my eyes, I returned to watching Cobh slip behind us as the sun continued to set and a three piece acoustic jazz set was being played on the deck below.
 

 

Cobh, a heritage town; part 1, the first foray

16th September 

 
Now this is the place to hop off, explore and enjoy. Where the ship berths, it is literally at the quayside of the town and within fifty feet of the gangway for the train to Cork itself; 24 minutes and you're there, it claims.

taken at about 07:15, hence light levels

Built on the hillside with two forts protecting the bay, it's one of those places I would want to come back to and explore them. Boat trips go out during the season, so it was something to keep in mind for a future adventure.
The church is huge for the size of the town so money must have been here. I suspect it's now a commuter town for Cork itself, although tourism seems to be big business, with souvenir shops, cafes, bars and hotels. 

 

We came towards the mouth of the deep water approach to Cobh very early in the morning. Being a natural deep water channel there was no problem with depth but we had to negotiate around a gas tanker getting ready to depart and two naval support ships checking incoming and outgoing vessels. 

It does look a bit as if we started the journey toward the quayside on the coast itself, but they are the markers showing where I wandered whilst there.To start with we seemed to follow the dotted line shown as the Roscoff,FR-Cork,IE line until we came closer to Cobh itself, then we came in quite close as you can see from the top photos and docked alongside.

What a pretty town and in many ways reminiscent of Iceland. I fell in love with it and vowed to return here for a more in depth exploration of the area and Cork itself. I had heard it was very a very pretty city and I wanted to get there by train, so I could look out the window and watch the countryside flow past.

As we had been to Dublin, customs was straight forward and we were able to disembark within about 20 minutes of docking. The longest part of the whole proceeding was to get the gangways properly hung, as the ship had not been here before so it was new for the dock staff as well as the crew on board (we had come across a few places like this on this cruise and I had a feeling it was a new route they were trying out).

First stop for me was to see the memorial gardens for the sailing of the Titanic. It's not a garden per say, more a grassy area with information boards about the people and the sailing. This, it seems was the final landfall the ship made before it went down.

The white arch is the way the passengers would have filed down toward the ship and as they got to the bottom of the steps they would have seen the way out to open sea in front of them. Turning left, they would have come to the dock for the ship and no doubt the ill fated gangways up into the ship itself.

It was a long walk from the centre of the town to the gardens and for those who are poor walkers it would be better to get a taxi. When I was there, a few people came on buggies. Immensely sensible; nice vehicle to go and get the shopping on 😊.....wonder if they get parking tickets? Probably, knowing my luck.

So, I had already eyed the cathedral, St Colman's cathedral to be precise, and it was a long way up. I had seen one route which reminded me of 'coronary hill' in Tenerife, so I was out to find something just a little more gentle. 

My right knee was telling me to be careful and any forward pressure, such as steep steps or hills, caused incredible shooting pains not only through it, but up the thigh as well. Less of that pain, and more pleasure, me thinks.

I started the climb and I was spot on when I said it was a long way up. 
In Wales, round the valleys we'd say 'it went up a bloody depth' and it did that all right.  
I stopped to take this photo (left). I recalled a similar one I'd taken in Tenerife (different part, but its all mountain goat land where I go) and thought I had scaled the peek. I turned round and a Victor Meldrew moment came on.
I grinned, yes this was another Victor Meldrew and I suspected it went higher as we turned that blasted corner I could see ahead. 
The cathedral, however did seem to be lower, so I was in with a chance of not looking like a turkey cock when I finally got there.



 I was relieved to get to the top and rested . I heard the sound of gasping and rasping as two middle aged people struggled the final few yards. Sitting down, she turned to me and commented that was her exercise for the day. I laughed, we had to get down yet.




The cathedral is very large as I suspected, and on the other side of the road you can see in the picture, is a large convent, still in full use. It is built in the full Gothic style and took 45 years to build it seems. Imagine building something like this now? 
One thing I didn't quite get, why did they need 49 bells? 
When I stayed with my great aunt in Wales, the church only needed one to not only get us up (it invariably started donging at 8am), but dressed and out and into the church.....because it was quieter!! It went on until midday, this bell, and only came to a stop because the main service had begun.
And this has 49! Oh boy.
Anyway, less of that, the church itself. Well, as you get to the main doors, there are people there who offer free tours around the building so as to explain anything your heart desires about the cathedral, the town or the Queenstown story. Not bad for a donation is it?
The two on duty were both busy when I got there so I wandered in under my own steam.
It is a very trusting place and has souvenirs for sale on the right hand side as you enter. They are all priced and the box is there, like an honesty box, for you to put your cash in. I imagined that in South East London; the box and the bits would have long gone to be flogged down the local market somewhere, money box smashed and all proceeds kept. Mm, different world, obviously.

Being a catholic cathedral, it carried the aspects one would expect. What caught my eye were these smaller chapels of quiet contemplation.
The statues were beautiful in themselves but the mosaic work behind them shone out like burnished gold. It was magnificent and the photographs do not do their brilliance justice.

This one to the left, Prayer to Our Lady Of Good Council caught my eye, and I truly thought her backdrop was embroidery until I drew closer.
I have no idea who the artist was, but I certainly doff my cap to their skill.

I found the steep way down. Just as I was making my way along this side street, a woman came out and, after doing a quick check no-one was there, emptied her floor cleaning bucket down the hill. It flowed quickly rendering one half on the road slippery. I did wonder what it would be like in the winter with some ice on it.
I shuddered. No, think coffee. Ahh, that's better. There was one near the bottom of this .....mm, my knee hurts this way too.....and I just prayed it wasn't too full.

Everywhere was full! I looked at my phone (my watch had died the moment I got on the ship in Southampton), it was 11:30am. I stood no chance. Like cockroaches at night, we'd gone from no-one about to the place full of tourists being bussed in from around. Oxford Street comes to Cobh.
I went back to the ship. At least I could have a coffee, a seat and some comfort with space and choice. Sorry Cobh, you lost out there.

It also gave me time to go back to my cabin and find my kinesiology tape and apply some to my knee before it got worse.

 

Dublin and soft weather

15th September 

I'll say one thing about the entrance into this port, its tight. Little wriggle room and even less error room. You'd need the pilot on board to negotiate this entrance and why we needed the tide to be right.
The day is drizzle, overcast and has a typical January feel about it, although warmer.

We can only get off the ship and wander if we have a trip or take the £5 shuttle bus into town. Seems it's some distance away.
Mm, if I cruise this way again I'll stay onboard. A city is a city is a ......no, if I want "city" I'll stick to London.

 

I did go on a short trip and we were able to see the city from the coach as we drove through. This picture sums it up in my mind. I was glad to be back on the ship. I think we can call me, ' seriously underwhelmed'.

Akureyri: somewhere where the word 'home' has meaning

12th September

Imagine a place where children roam freely and are kept safe by everyone. Imagine a place where all ages, young and old, are embraced as members of the community and enjoy the warmth and friendship in that community. Imagine a place, so close to the Arctic Circle it has excellent skiing/snowboarding but also had an outside swimming pool which maintains its temperature at 32℃ all year round, with classes, hot tubs, gymnasium and free time every day. Imagine a place where littering is frowned upon and the locals just don't do it. Imagine all of this and add to it that level of closeness to Nature and you have it; Akureyri.
 Nestled close to the Arctic Circle but protected on three sides by tall 'mountains' (officially not mountain, some 8 cms too short) created in the last Ice-age, Akureyri  is surprisingly mild. 

Few roads cross the area and many are connected by long tunnels burrowed through the mountains, connecting places like Husavik, Myvatn reserve and other major sites. Towns are small by comparison with here, this being the capital of the north. Its based around an old fishing community, and the old town is still visible around the central areas. Old houses have been either utilised as museums or hotels but the charm of  the old town is still strong.

  By the museum called, Sigurhaedir, there were wooden steps going down to the street which took you back to the fjord.
It was really pretty but the steps were steep and getting to them from the church was a bit tricky as the edge of the rough stone access footpath had begun to collapse down the slope. I took it steadily and arrived at the steps.
I could well imagine after rain they would be treacherous, but it was dry and so I was able to enjoy a stroll down to the lower levels, via some very beautiful shrubbery.


As I travelled further down this slope I came across a bench and there, a waterfall coming from a natural outpouring had been forded so as to create a small pool. The water reached its man made edge and cascaded over, its music adding to that of the bubble bees and the smell of autumns flowers.

 

 

 It was lovely to just sit and enjoy the view. It was well before lunchtime and the area was still very quiet. I expected it to become a bit more active later because I had noticed a group of Americans in the church earlier and they were loudly regaling the fact they had lost the rest of the 'party'.
 

 I walked to the bottom of the steps; if I had walked past on that lower road I wouldn't have noticed that garden, but I couldn't miss the waterfall. Here, the man made edge was made from aluminium and caused the water to behave like a curtain.
I would have been transfixed by this alone and would have failed to notice a narrow flight of stairs to its right.
If you go to Akureryi, find it, it is very beautiful. And if you are in the area, I hope you find the museum of life open. Sadly, I was too late in the season to be able to get in, being closed for winter.





 By the time I reached the gardens, I had been out walking for quite a few hours. I decided I wasn't going to do a trip but walk parts of the town I hadn't seen the last time I was her. Basically, I just got off the ship as soon as we cleared customs and went through the port and turned left.
I love following my nose but there are a few things which will cause me to deviate from the road I will be on; classic cars, American classics like Lincolns and Pontiac, 4 x 4 modified vehicles and public gardens. It all fascinates me.
I love housing estates because I get to see the authentic place as it is being lived rather than the sanitised centres all set up for tourists.
I'm nosey and its through this I get to see/find many things other travellers fail to spot.

 My first deviation was caused by a Lincoln sitting by a house along one of the side streets. It was in superb condition and by the crisp packet wrappers inside the car, was still in use.
I wandered to the end of that road and when I had to choose which way, I went left. 
This is when I came across my first communal gardens; the first to be created in the town during the Second World War. There were foreign troops stationed here it seems and they had the idea of building on this field, as it was there. The locals protested so violently, it was decided to make the field into a permanent recreation area and they built their barracks further along toward the other part of the main port.

Its quite large. Built on a cross of paths with a flag pole in the middle, there are tennis courts, children's play area, open areas to run around on, and other amusements to keep family and children active.
I caught the tail end of the planting, but there were still marigolds and cornflowers in bloom and the bumble bees were in abundance getting ready for the approaching snows which were already laying in the flats of the upper slopes.

 
Crossing the park I came across a dual carriageway, so crossing that I noted the football pitch and stadium, walked round the edge of that and saw a steep road which took me into another area of houses. 
Intrigued, I went to cross over but saw something else and explored that first.  Pass. No idea what the statue is about but it was interesting to note he was pointing up toward the closed end of the fjord, not the mouth (that was behind him) and it was also pointing toward the town.
Behind him was a high point, almost like a look out , which it could have been. You can make it out in the background, a small set of steps with a bit sticking up in the middle.
I wandered over to take a look and there was  a brass plaque at the bottom, which said, Lydveldid island, 1944 to 1994, and the top of that plinth was a dial of places and their distances.

I met a cat who was happily stalking the birds round there but it was far too fat to get elevated enough to catch them!
The birds were redstarts and were there in large flocks gorging on the numerous rowan trees there. I haven't seen that many redstarts in many years. Once upon a time we used to get these landing on the stubble fields in Bedfordshire, these days I think the chemicals have taken its toll on such behaviours now.
Having satisfied my curiosity I turned and  went up that steep side street.

 I popped out way above the church and close to the swimming pool. I wandered along. There was a viewing window where I could get a glimpse inside. It was full. There was aqua-aerobics, Jacuzzi sessions, school sessions, private swimming, race training....the list goes on. Steam rose from the water and people were walking there in large numbers.
 I suspect I saw the start of a new session with some school children, as there were significant numbers approaching the main entrance.
I was really pleased to enjoy their arrival. Unlike in UK these children exhibited a level of self control and maturity our children seem to have lost sight of in the jungle/gang mentality which seems to pervade the air.
These students all spoke politely and at a sensible volume. One apologised to me in English (must have presumed I was) and then continued talking with his friend in Icelandic. 
Most impressed I was, most impressed.
I wandered down to the church. It's built in a replica style to the large one in Reykjavik, but without the buttresses. I suspect the similarity is more to do with the fact it was designed by the same person, but I don't know so don't quote me on that.
Inside was sweet. For a Lutheran church, there seemed to be a lot of Catholicism. I've just checked, it is Lutheran but not as plain as I would expect. 
I wandered down the hill and into the town square. Everywhere was open but tourists outnumbered those who lived there. The souvenir shops were attracting people and some were buying. I decided it was time for a fridge magnet and ventured in myself. I played tourist for a few hours and then wound my way back to the ship.

I had walked for some 4 hours and my feet had had enough. It had been a matter of a few degrees above freezing when I set out, it was now nearer 12℃ and I was too hot to cope.
Food called as did getting this blasted coat off! And the boots!




It never ceases to amaze me what people use as number plates. This one I couldn't resist. I chatted to the owner and he was a die hard fan but expressed extreme jealousy when he realised I had seen them more than once. With a sharp intake of breath he just looked at me, "You're so lucky,"he said.
 

Addendum

Just realised, I have missed out a day!!
How could I possibly leave out Akureyri?! One of the most beautiful places there is?
Apologies, I will type this one up and get it published later today, so you will have to wait for Thursday 12th September, but here is a sneak preview;

Second day at sea (number 4); weather worsening

14th September
 
I slept well but for the incessant rattle of one wardrobe door. That was going to be investigated! I was not going to put up with another night of such disturbance (who am I kidding, the whole room creaked and groaned as did the ship!). 
Waves had slapped against the hull and it sounded like a very deep gong was being activated at irregular intervals; tough to sleep through I can tell you, but I did my best.
The counter surface below the mirror had attempted to eject itself all over the floor but I had been near it at the time and managed to catch the kettle and a water container before they made their way onto the carpet. 
Behind the mirror is not only more storage, but the safe too. So as to get easy access to the safe, the mirror is held closed by two magnetic clips, both of which had passed their sell by date. The mirror rattled and clanked until the weakened magnets couldn't hold it any more and the mirror swung open. I was up, out of bed, catching things before I'd realised I'd opened my eyes! Cup of tea. Might as well. What time is it? 03:15? Bit early for breakfast.
Wedging two pillows against the now closed mirror, in a valiant hope it would stay closed, I went back to bed, turned over and managed to fall into some sort of sleep. Gave up at 05:12 and had another cup of tea.
The earliest I could breakfast, and yes, I was ravenous again, was 06:00 so I had a shower (bouncing from one side of the shower cubicle to the other like a weeble-wobble ball) a second cuppa (no water left, bugger) and then went up to see what the damage was.
How thoroughly thrilling! A small part of me wondered whether I had a death wish or something, or that, deep down there was a bit of an adrenalin junkie in me, because the worse the storm became, the brighter and happier I was. And it was very bad this morning. Even some of the waiters had failed to come topside!
FOOD!
A full English later, I kinda walked up to the semi closed deck 11. 
Now, I can but presume they didn't think many clients (or idiots in my case) would, one, be up, or two, want to get outside......I did. Far too excited to stay inside. My eyes shone and the smile was from one side of my face to the other.
Sadly, I haven't any pictures of this but imagine the ship rolling side to side so violently, the water in the swimming pool is bouncing over the edge in 2 foot waves. Thrilling. 
I took my shoes off (better purchase that way) and wandered carefully out onto deck. 
No-one noticed. Too early me thinks. 
Phone out, I started videoing the escaping waters and the excitement in me mounted. I walked on a bit further and was now central to the deck. I wasn't totally crazy, I still had a pillar close by to hold if I needed, but the great thing about horse riding is, it makes you learn how to balance, so I adopted the riding pose (feet straight ahead, knees slightly bent and allowing the movement to occur from the hips up, whilst keeping legs and feet firmly down onto the ground) and was fine.
I'm not sure when I was spotted but a man dressed in the officer's black and white came to the doors and started watching me like a hawk. Before I realised I had an audience safely tucked away inside. He had his walkie-talkie out and didn't look too happy.
Oops.
I looked towards him and with a stern expression on his face, beckoned me toward him and the safety of the inside. Before I realised my bottom lip came out and I looked at him just like a child not wanting too. Oops again, I really should grow up (really? Now? unlikely).
He beckoned again but with greater vigour, so with due care and attention I walked over toward him, watching the pools and enjoying my final paddle before I left.
He didn't exactly tell me off but he wanted too. I could sense the phrase, irresponsible idiot floating around in his head. The doors were locked and he looked at me. "Dangerous!" was all he managed to say without telling me what he really thought. I couldn't stop smiling. I'd been caught and I was in trouble and I had had a great time.
I went to deck 6 and had a coffee. Oops, once more.
The captain had warned of worsening weather and I can safely say, when the waves are as tall as deck 6 and bedecked with copious white foam, it has.

This picture was taken from
Smoker's Corner on deck 12, (that's the equivalent of 12 storeys up). The waves were huge and as we crashed up and down, they broke higher and higher up the sides of the ship flooding the outside decks on levels 6 and 7. The captain came over the tannoy and told us the storm was liable to increase to beyond hurricane force (a reading of force 11) and possibly beyond so we were changing course and were heading towards the Hebrides to take shelter from the worst of the weather and give us a greater chance at making progress. We were about four hours behind schedule and would miss the tide into Dublin so we would have to wait for the next one. We had to make progress so it would be another day of full throttle in the hope we would attain better speeds in more sheltered waters.

Visibility is very poor; driving rain, high winds, rough sea; we have begun our journey along the eastern side of the Shetlands. It's still very early and all outside decks are closed. It's at times like this I am quite happy to have booked an inside cabin. Not much to see really except tall waves, whistling winds, draughts and rain hitting the window.

Today, there is talk about looking for radiation particles beneath the ice, called Fiery Ghosts beneath the ice. That's at 10:00, so back to deck 6 and listen to some podcasts until then. Prof. Glenn Patrick has given 3 excellent lectures so far. Today I think maybe the final one, although we do have one more day at sea to get back from Ireland to Southampton.
Crikey, am talking about that already!!


Isle of Lewis 687 nautical miles at speed of 16 knots, berth at 10.30am. Storm force now, 65 knots equals hurricane force, now 45 knots. We are making progress.

Day at sea number 3

13th September

Hurricane Dorian, which devastated so much of the Bahamas has made its way across the Atlantic and making for an interesting crossing.
We have to get from the northern side of Iceland, just miles away from the Arctic Circle, round the right hand side of Iceland itself and then make a dash for it across open waters to Ireland. The ship is at maximum throttle but is fighting the approaching waves and our journey times are being extended quite considerably.
 The captain has already warned us of very bad weather on the way; last night we experienced the first of the storm force winds and reduced visibility, but we have been warned there will be increasing winds to hurricane force (force 10) and very big seas.
So glad I don't have sea sickness, but by the number of "Do not disturb" signs already up on cabin doors, its going to be a quiet day up top.

I had breakfast, a somewhat lone affair, and then ventured up to deck 7 to see if I could get out and have a look.
Blocked off!
Tried deck 6, but the same thing there. Blowers were working on soaked carpets around the main doors out onto the deck and it was clear the night had been more rocky than I had noticed.
I finally found a way outside, the one area they could not close or they would have had a riot; Smokers Corner! Holding my nose I forced the door open. It took two of us to shift it and as we went through, the door snapped shut with such volition we wondered if we would manage to get it open again. I checked the men sitting there, yes there were a couple who looked strong enough.
OK, so this is only storm force; the waves crashed against us and we bobbed along like a cork. All I can say is, thank heavens for stabilisers!!
The wind howled and nothing, not even the ash in the closed ashtrays, stayed were they should be. Chairs wandered and tables were stacked tight against the edge, lashed down so as not to lose them overboard. People hunkered down in coats and gloves and scarves, puffing away with speed and necessity; meanwhile, I felt like a cat with the wind up my tail and wanted to play and frolic. Ooh, so exciting and it was only just getting started, tee hee.
I spent the morning wandering around, having coffee and listening to the podcasts I had downloaded ready for this two day Internet blackout and entertained myself, whilst watching the crew busily securing doors, issuing sick bags (no thank you, I don't need them) and generally keeping the ship in its pristine condition. 
The trouble with rough seas is, it makes me hungry....ravenous in fact.
By 12:30 I was up on deck 11 (most of this deck had already been blocked off) to get freshly cooked chips and a burger without the bun. I stood behind a glass panel and watched the wind and rain lash the semi-closed deck and a crew member valiantly attempting to stretch the safety netting over the two swimming pools whilst its contents spewed over his wellies.
I grinned to myself, no-one will be in the Jacuzzi today.
Oh, those chips were good, and the burger, well, let me put it this way, they are obviously made on the ship because it was all beef mince with a little egg and onion powder, simply beautiful.
I had to laugh as I was leaning against the glass screen. Some people walked out to see what the weather was like (er, couldn't they see?) and caught sight of the plate of chips....one man almost vomited on the spot. So glad he didn't, it would have been both messy and smelly and I was quite comfortable where I was. 
I thanked the chef at the Snack Shack and, as I couldn't cut across the deck, went back in and headed towards Smokers Corner, for a cup of tea and a seat in the ( dubious) fresh air.
I picked up the Cruise News....what entertainment is there to catch my fancy I wonder?
We'd already enjoyed an hour from Glenn Patrick on Cosmic particles and the Icelandic ice show, so I perused;

• film; Aloha
• Great British Cake off
• Multimedia quiz
• coffee and crafts
• meet the cast
• another film, Beside Bowie:The Mick Ronson Story

I underlined that one and headed for the Broadway Show Lounge.
All of a sudden, the pitching and yawing calmed down and although the doors to the decks didn't open, it became a better experience during the evening. The captain came back on to tell us we were now sheltering along the east coast of Iceland but later tonight (oh great, another roll-a-coaster night's sleep) we would have to make the dash across the open Atlantic waters towards the Irish coast.
Some people ventured out of their cabins and drank themselves to a state of semi unconsciousness. I did laugh, the stomach would void that lot quite quickly and their heads would be as bad as their bellies.
I took advantage of an early, stable night and was asleep by about 9pm, rough seas do that to me too.

 

Isafjord; a visit to Vigur Island

11th September
 
Its an early start this morning (08:30) and with a tender as well, we have to meet 30 minutes before we're due at the coaches. Slowly we make our way to the Broadway lounge where we will be collected together ready to disembark when we're called.
I'm on a 3 hour trip, so all in all that's a nice length. It gives me time to have a leisurely stroll after lunch, having had time to get up to the buffet and have a quiet meal near the end of the serving. 
There aren't that many of us going on this trip and we fit into two small power boat ferries, each carrying about 24 people.We don't get on a coach, we walk round the harbour and get on one of the ferries waiting for us. This is what I call a lovely start to a day. Just wish it would stop raining.
Its such a beautiful place being marred by wet, cold weather which keeps most guests on the ship and suggests warmth, dryness and a seat in one of the many bars is preferrable to the soaking you will get, when out and about.
Last time I was here it was 28℃, and I was paddling in the waters; this time its 4℃ with a wind chill factor making it feel more like 1℃.
Hey, ho, I'm dry and warm and sitting in the back of the ferry enjoying the journey to Vigur island. 
The trip took us out of the Isafjordur and further along the coast to the next fjord where the island of Vigur sat. 
Sadly for us, the weather had closed in, and our views were confined somewhat. On the map below, the heart shows Vigur island and the yellow star, Isafjord.

The journey there was about 30 minutes and by the look of the wake we made, we were travelling at full throttle. I spoke to the captain when we came back on board and he told me this was his only journey today but he was hoping the weather would be better tomorrow as he had 5 trips to take and bring back.
The stern of our ferry was very low in the water, whilst the bow was high so it may have been called a ferry, but acted more like a speed boat. I suspected he just wanted to get home and I don't blame him.

As you can see, the cloud base was low, but as the day developed we had just a little more visibility and could make out where it was, that the sheep would be sent to over-winter. The picture shows our ferry. Later, a second one arrived and the other group came onto the island. That swelled the entire population to 44, including the two ferrymen.

Privately owned, the family (there are now only the 2 of them) make their money from tourism and eider down they collect each year from their breeding birds. I'd seen a programme on this, I think it was from the Hebrides or the Orkneys, where they would go to each nest and take a small amount of the eider down and then work it ready for sale. My mind drifted to these images as she told us the ducks are always the same ones on the same nests, and just sat there allowing the people to take what they will and then leave her to rear her chicks. Once the chicks left the nest, the remaining down was collected and added to the pile. We felt a bundle of the down after it had been through the process of cleaning etc, and it felt like I always imagined clouds to feel as a child....and it was so warm, too.
Gathered, washed, carded clean, it is exported to places such as China and Sweden. There it tends to be mixed with other feather and down because the price of the eider is so high.
A good living for the islander family I imagine and with successful breeding this year they are hoping for more breeding pairs next year.
She was lovely, and, I might add, a wonderful cook!!!! But more on that later.

The island has two buildings and you can see them in the distance, here. One is their home and the other the hall where tourists are given hospitality. I looked around, I could live here. Even in this weather, with the rain coming down and the temperature

only just above freezing, I could live here. As we walked along a trackway cut into the grassland, I spotted seals playing in the waters, divers bobbing up and down and eider ducks washing and preening. The puffins and the Arctic tern had gone to other grounds to feed and get ready to return next year, but even this was enough. A bleak, stark beauty and well worth the visit if you are ever in the area.

So, to the hospitality hall.... cakes and coffee, a traditional Icelandic welcome, and I could get used to it. 

The lady of the house had put on a sizeable spread of some of the nicest coffee I think I have tasted and cakes which somehow conjoured memories of South Wales and my childhood. 

Dark chocolate filled with blueberries and salt melted in my mouth as did the almond and lingonberry tart....divine. Then there was the marriage cake... heaven had been reached and I retired outside so as to take my eyes, mouth, taste buds and stomach away from such a delicious collection of scrumptiousness.

 As a final part of our tour we went into the small processing shed were they treated the eider down. I never realised it was such a long process and that coupled with the amount you got from each nest each year, its not surprising its so expensive. 

 

Back to the ship then and a leisurely lunch. Those who had gone on some of the full day trips hadn't returned, so the ship itself was quite quiet and the lunch room almost empty when I went up for something. It was so nice to be warm, dry and out of the wind, but I was determined to go for a walk into the 'town' (more like a hamlet built around the harbour) and take a second look at parts I hadnt found last time.

 




View from my table as I ate lunch. Those colours have come out true to life; the red is one type of plant giving these long gashes of colour amid the autumnal green of the grasses as they die back for winter.






We were due to leave at 18:30pm but with the shorter days it was becoming dark quite early. I knew I had a couple of hours to stretch my legs so, taking my pass and not much else, I went into the town and went for a stroll around. I must admit it was getting colder and the thermometer must have been dipping below freezing with the wind chill, so after about an hour I decide it was time to come back on board and retire somewhere warm.
I found a sheltered area on deck 11 and watched as we prepared to leave. I will be back again, and this time it will be warmer. I really do want to see puffins so it will be back to Vigur Island, but, shhh, don't tell anyone.  

Reykjavik part two: horses, tears and a well earned sniff

10th September

 I have no idea how long the drive from the hot springs to the horse place took, but it did feel as if we were hugging the coastline forever. The 427 was a good road and recently tarmaced, but that's a regular occurance it appears; undulations in the ground, movements and sinking all contribute to a high turnover of road surfaces. I could imagine how vulnerable you'd be if, in the winter, when its virtually twilight all the time, with the road covered in snow, you broke down. The thought made me shudder.
Our guide regailed a story he knew to be true. On the land either side of the road were deep fissures between razor sharp rocks. The mosses grow thick and even, over the surface and what appeared to be solid ground was more likely to be one of these trenches which acted like quick sand. 
One hunting season a couple of years ago, a group of 5 men, all locals, went out in search of their Christmas dinner (ptarmigan). Each had their guns and a radio to keep in touch. Four men returned and although they looked for the fifth for several days, it was declared he had stood on one of these patches and had been swallowed up by the moss.
As a addendum, skeletons of large animals and people have been recovered from these areas in the past, and more are turning up as they attempt to build new interconnecting roads through the area.
Mm, makes breaking down just a little more ........💥
So onto the horses, we arrived and I felt the tears rise as a group of four fjords stood outside ready for our show. The other bus had already reach the destination and were patiently waiting for us to get inside and sit down.
We quickly filed into an indoor school and sat down in the viewing area. In front of us occupying the central region of the school were four sheets of plywood, layed end to end making a track for the horses to trot, walk and tupp across. I thought of mine.....cross plywood? for that long? with that level of noise? I'd have ended up riding a rodeo horse, bucking and squealing! I laugh now.
They came in to a fanfair of music and with their rapid trot, took themselves and their riders around the arena. 
I gave up, the tears rolled and all I could do was sniff and hope I could hold back the desire to howl with the pain of not being able to ride anymore. 
The riders showed the skills of the horses and the commentary told us of their uses and how they had been the driving force behind the colonisation of much of the island and the only method of transport from anywhere to somewhere.
Oh, the pain, I was ready to give in when the lead horse trotted along the boards. Oh dear, I tried so hard, then the next one, then the next, then the black and white.
No pictures got taken, I was too busy controlling my emotions but it was wonderful and when the show finished and the horses went to have their tea, I began to relax.
Strong coffee awaited us with a piece of Icelandic cake! I needed it.
Our journey back to the ship was easier. We had now picked up a main arterial route back to the capital and I sat back, I'd had enough. I wanted nothing more than the ship, deck 11 and a decent cuppa. It would be dinner time shortly and I wanted to get back to my cabin and have a shower. I felt as though the smell of the sulphur was clinging to me and with the distance we'd all been sitting down, a wander along deck 7 would be in order.
Tonight, the movie on the pool deck was "Men in Black: International" (2019) and I fancied that. It was either that, or into the Lounge for some relaxing jazz with Crystie James. Decisions, decisions.