It *was* a bumpy ride

Negotiating crates to stay out of the water

“You are just the chicest couple every time I see you.” Ah yes. Another of our growing legion of fans greeted us on our way to the bar last night. Ok, yes, we had made a bit of an effort and we were in fact looking sharp. However, this cruise is definitely not about the promenading that you get on non expedition cruises. We keep up standards while remaining in the smart casual bracket. As you would expect.

Sitting in the bar after readying ourselves for dinner, we are treated to flying zodiacs and champagne - not necessarily in that order. The latter is easily explained but the former is the sight of the rubber boats being hoisted on board to sit in a pile at the back of the ship. The ease which they seem to fly up is alarming when one considers how they are gunned across the waters with a precious load of passengers.

We manage to get a table for two on a table for six with a certain amount of bullying from my lady. We really are antisocial. Suddenly, Gabrielle declares that she might agree to share a table one night in 14. Colour me astounded.

Over breakfast we had a little guessing game amongst ourselves: what’s the average age of the guest? I plumped for 68 and Gabrielle chose 71. And then we asked someone who knew. The answer is 67. This surprised us both since there seemed to be a disproportionate number of more elderly people (apparently I have to count myself among their number but that makes me above average, so nerrrr). There’s a total of 254 guests on board with the majority being Americans and then Brits plus a smattering of Spanish who seem to make more noise than their numbers allow.

The QuietVox Conundrum: not the name of a Robert Ludlum thriller but rather the puzzle that has been posed to our expedition team. Each passenger is provided with a portable device that relays a guide’s narration direct to your ear through a unit round your neck and an earpiece. On opening the sanitised package of the earpiece we discovered that they were both marked L for left. Unfortunately I am totally deaf in that ear. Do they have any marked R? Apparently the answer is no. Our butler, Santosh, (still sounds too grand) went on an earpiece hunt but to no avail. However, he came up with the solution: don’t plug in the device at all because there is a tiny speaker in it which will mean that it’s no longer Quiet!

We wait to disembark as the team are tackling safety issues for the beach landing. Essentially the Zodiacs need to get near enough to allow passengers to alight on a makeshift pontoon without getting totally soaked and without grounding the boats. This is proving tricky and, alarmingly, we appear to be the advance party. Then we are alerted to the fact that we are to undertake a surf landing, meaning that we get as near to the beach as possible and then hop out in the hope we won’t get wet feet or, worse, go full length in the water. This is Nick Evans? Check. He has history? Check. Prepare the stretchers!

And so we queue for the Zodiac, just behind the landing stage of the ship. Two groups go and then there’s a long pause. Have they drowned? Have they been held hostage by Icelanders, still bitter from the Cod Wars? The time passes and still we wait. We are already an hour late for our departure and there is literally a horse and pony show waiting for us. We have no idea what awaits us when we land, but we suspect it may be an interesting disembarkation.

They inform us that the team are switching to the smaller Zodiacs to allow them to perform a surf landing. Looks of bemused concern from everyone in the queue. We board a zodiac and it is very bouncy, even next to the ship. We pull away and water sloshes over the side on a regular basis as we bound through the waves. After about five minutes of travel we approach the beach. There are four people in the water waiting to grab the boat and a series of crates and boxes make a line of stepping stones to near the water’s edge. One at a time we shuffle along, sit on the bow and swing our legs over onto a straightforward crate that is already well submerged. Timing it carefully we stagger off the zodiac, held tight on each side by the helpers in the water, who guide us to the shore. Amazingly, the only thing that’s wet are my gloves which suffered a wave breaking over the edge.

Meanwhile, the good people of Tumavík are waiting to serve us with hot lamb soup, cake (very like parkin) and coffee. It’s a very warm welcome that has been five years in the planning.

The purpose built toilet block

We are the first expedition cruise to land here and it’s a very big deal for the locals who have built a toilet block, provided a large marquee, staffed it with lovely Icelandic girls in traditional costume and taken the opportunity to sell stuff from a temporary shop on the beach. Now we are to head off on a beach walk.

A warm Icelandic welcome

The guide tells us that our 5km hike is actually 15km. Oh how we laughed. It was a gentle amble along the black sand beach and then up on to the rough dunes above.

Our amusing guides

The flora are like alpines, close to the ground and tiny hardy flowers - very beautiful and of course unspoiled.

Eider ducks fly past or float on the waves and the Icelandic horses brought by the locals are trotting around.

Wherever you tread there are horse tracks and these are made by the sturdy Icelandic breed. They are incredibly strong, able to carry a large man for distances with ease and withstand the extreme conditions here. We are told that Icelandic horses are bred to dance which in some ways, makes them Trick ponies. And I thought I was the only one trick pony in town.

Icelandic horses

These horses can only breed with other Icelandics and, if they are exported to another country for example for a competition, they are not allowed to return and they must be sold. The country has very strict regulations on the import of animals and plants, in order to protect the natural environment.

The guide narrates through the QuietVox and as I am not able to use it and chose not to disturb the quiet, I have the strange experience of walking with a group in silence, punctuated by occasional bursts of laughter, occasioned apparently by nothing!

He tells stories of the Cod Wars and how the Icelanders fought for their fishing rights against the marauding British. Well, that’s their side anyway. It all seems pointless now at this long distance and with so many other conflicts taking place. The British should be hated by these people but they are welcoming although they seem to draw the line at billionaires who come to their country and make themselves unpopular. One such is the owner of a large football club, who has imported his own architects, builders, workmen, staff and support services, cutting Iceland out of the loop. And he doesn’t pay tax here either.

We are shown a Fox box. It’s a place where a hunter hides in order to shoot the Arctic Foxes which kill sheep and eider ducks. There is also a mink problem which also attacks the cultivated livestock. Eider is a key product, selling for around €2,800 a kilo, so unsurprisingly it is protected vigorously.

We head back to the marquee and eat our soup and listen to a guitarist singing popular songs. We are all bracing ourselves for the journey back and it doesn’t disappoint! We queue for the zodiacs which come in a steady wave, so to speak. We are handed on through the waves on crates to board the boat. Water gets into our shoes and socks and we squelch on to the dinghy. The last thing these waves are is steady though and once on board, we hang on tight as the little craft bounces up the waves and dives down into the trough, with great sloshes of water soaking those in the front, including Gabrielle. It’s bouncy in the extreme and progress is painfully slow but eventually we make a safe landing on the ship and go to the mud room to shower off the sand and mud.

And …. inhale!

Gabrielle, not eating meat, has not benefited from the delicious lamb soup so, once we have climbed out of our wet gear, she orders a vegetarian wrap. When it arrives she inhales it! However, this is not it for the day. We are under way once more and the evening holds another landing by zodiac to go and see the Arctic Henge. Frankly, I’d prefer to wrap myself in blankets and sip a steaming Ovaltine, but I doubt that will be allowed!