Radio silence and a gal with a gun

I had commented to Nick that we were going from blue-green seas, to sludge. I think Nick’s right, we’re actually in Immingham. However, the main difference being the mountains that surround the seas we are now in.

Halfway through the trip and we’ve decided we should celebrate. So in true N & G style, we frocked up to go out to Røst. Me in a flimsy frock and Nick wearing his shirt he bought for our 25th. Special. Other than the Pearly King and Queen tribute French guys, we were the only ones who had made an effort.

Let me set the scene regarding the above. We have a couple of French guys on board who are so elaborate and flamboyant they could have given Vivienne Westwood a run for her money. Sequins, tapestry embroidered waistcoats, taffeta, caps and of course a walking cane in equally elaborate style. Wherever they go, they get a lot of notice. Good for them.

I know, this is true evidence I’m a complete Northerner and I have absolutely no problem with that. If you’re going full-on posh dining, you hardly rock up in your decorating gear. A sense of occasion is needed…IMHO.

I was a little dubious of going full-on tasting menu with matching wines as I am not a lover of white wine and the sad reality is that your average tasting menu has more white than red. Today was no different. I also observed that my portions of wine were considerably less than Nick’s. No problem there, less of a hangover for me in the morning and Nick even suggested we went to the bar after our meal so that I could catch up with him. Nope, not the best of ideas. I’ll leave it that Nick had a larger slice of the action than I did. TBH in our server’s defence, every time she came out with a white I did rather treat said wine with caution, so she got the hint I didn’t want very much.

So I can completely regale you with the wines we had last night. Can I regale the food? Pah, that was the incidental part. A Havets Bobler classic brut cuvée, exclusively made for Hurtigruten and aged deep in the Norwegian sea. And to be fair, the bottle looked like it had been. No label, fairly weather-beaten and generally looking up to nothing. Next up was an Oddero Barbera D’Alba which was stunning and I could have drunk that all night. Nick was a very happy chappie when the Chablis came out. Then it all went a little bit weird on the wine front for me with a Riesling Bechtheimer Dreissigacker, followed by a Bringebærlandet dessert wine. The latter of which reminded me of cough medicine, but sadly not my favourite, which is Benylin.

For me, other than the Oddero Barbera d’Alba, the food was way better than the wines. However, it has to be mentioned that the glasses were utterly stunning. All from the Spiegelau Arabesque range. The crockery was a combination of really heavy earthenware, which wouldn’t be my normal choice but suited the environment perfectly. Was it up itself? (as so many of these sorts of restaurants are) No, I don’t think so. However, I’m actually grateful I’m not in a suite as I really couldn’t cope with this level of fancy on a daily basis. We plan to return to Røst before we leave the ship though, just to have another experience. Next time I may stick with the red.

And so, to bed, turning all devices into airplane mode, wi-fi off and Bluetooth off. The plan was to be up early in the morning to potentially get a glimpse of a polar bear as we slid into Ny-Ålesund where all comms had to remain silenced due to the research centre.

I don’t know why I had even bothered to set my alarm. Awake at 5.30, I started the slow process of layering up. So here’s the list: underwear (Obvs. Got to keep the essentials snug), t-shirt, thermals, 2 pairs of trousers, fleece, Rab down gilet, full down jacket, 2 pairs of socks, gloves and hat. I did attempt to put my anorak on top of all of this, but it wouldn’t do up.

As we left the cabin, some bright spark suggested we put on the bathroom underfloor heating for when we returned from the freezing breezes. There are times I amaze myself with my forward organisation. Off we went with a handful of other hardy (AKA, mad) souls determined to get a sighting of a Polar Bear. Alas, no such luck. though on the bright side, if we had seen one, I feel it unlikely we would have been allowed off the ship. There were a couple of glaciers, but call me Sponge Bob Fancy Pants, we’d been spoilt with the Chilean glaciers which were sensational. However, not to look a (Foxes) glacier in the mouth, we joined the throngs taking photos.

Knowing we had a relatively short time in Ny-Ålesund, we delayed a bit and went for breakfast at some ridiculous time of the morning. Now, something which has been puzzling me is the soft-boiled egg situation on the ship. I know, you’ve been concerned about this too. However, let me elaborate. It doesn’t matter what time we go for breakfast, there is a bubbling cauldron of eggs. One bubbling cauldron stating soft-boiled eggs, the other one stating hard-boiled eggs. So my puzzlement has been how the soft-boiled eggs remain soft if they are in bubbling water. No one’s standing over them timing them, so how can they be perfect? Today was the day I felt I should challenge said eggs and sample one. Do you know? It was the most perfect, soft-boiled egg I have ever had. I’ve got a couple of siblings who will probably be rolling their eyes right now and giving me a chemistry lecture as to how this “phenomenon” is perfectly logical.

Back to our cabin to layer up again and head out into the major metropolis of Ny-Ålesund (the “Å” is pronounced “O” as in “Oliver”). This is the world’s northernmost permanent settlement. It is 78°55′30″N 11°55′20″E. We were 765 miles from the North Pole and some smart-arsed local was walking around in shorts and t-shirt. Show off. Snow poles in a variety of colours lined the “streets” which were actually dirt tracks. We had been given really strict instructions to keep to the roads. There were clearly a number of folks who hadn’t “read the memo” about the Arctic Tern protocol. Instead of backing away as we were told to, they continued taking photographs of them and batting at them. Agghhhhh. If this level of stupidity continues, tourists won’t be welcome at this settlement.

Ny-Ålesund has had a varied and interesting history. It was a mining area from 1917 to 1962 when the mines finally closed due to the volume of accidents. In the 1920s Roald Amundsen made a variety of attempts to fly to the North Pole. Now, however, the area is owned and operated by Kings Bay, which provides facilities for permanent research activities by 19 institutions from 11 countries. The population ranges from 35 in the winter to 115 in the summer.

There is a mast that is a relic of Amundsen’s zeppelin flight. However, this mast is off the dirt tracks and no one is allowed to visit it unless accompanied by an armed guide. Charlotten was our inoffensive looking, 20-something Nordic guide, casually armed with a Hurtigruten-branded .308 calibre rifle. Now, I was somewhat concerned that due to our presence, there was a chance some beast who is in its natural habitat was potentially going to die because of a bunch of tourists. I was reassured that first up, a gun would be used initially to scare the bear and that 9 times out of 10, that is sufficient for said bear to do a U-turn. The rifle would only be used as an absolute last resort if humans were genuinely in danger. Charlotten made constant sweeps of the land with her binoculars, so I felt reassured that if there was a bear, she’d give us stacks of notice to scarper and the bear would remain in one piece.

I’m not entirely sure what the protocol is as far as acknowledging and appreciating one’s guide who has just ensured you don’t get eaten by a bear. Does one tip? Does one offer one’s son in marriage (or daughter…let’s be all 21st Century please). In the end after much pondering, I just thanked her for looking after us. She gave us a casual “no problem” as if to say “I’m just doing my job”.

Once back on the dirt tracks and in downtown Ny-Ålesund, there was a bizarre smell of freshly baked cinnamon buns. Really, how mean is that? Right then I could have happily eaten one with a steaming Mocha. We could also hear the constant noise of the local bird wildlife which was making a particular din as all of the parents had chicks.

We had grown to really appreciate the diversity of Ny-Ålesund after our first impression being that it was simply bleak. No, it was much more than that. It was hostile, but beautiful too. It was with reluctance that we headed back to the ship just in time for us to set sail again and start our return to Bergen. We now have 48 hours at sea, before a brief stop at Trømso.