NORWAY
A new adventure
Part Three
WEDNESDAY 1 SEPTEMBER
Today saw us at Olden, at the end of the Nordfjord. Olden is somewhat bigger than Flåm, but even so the buildings looked so miniscule in comparison to the giant of a ship that is the Ventura. Looking out from our balcony we could still see a lot of cloud, but it looked like they were lifting, so we looked forward to a good day.
We were up reasonably early and had breakfast in the Waterside Restaurant, me indulging myself in a full English. Our private tour had been agreed for 10.30, so shortly before then we disembarked and met one of the Ventura representatives. There was a vehicle there but unfortunately it was not at all suitable for Maggie, so the driver had to go to Stryn and exchange it for an adapted vehicle. As a result it was closer to 11.30 before we actually got under way.
The tour was to last two and a half hours and it was worth every penny of the £275 we had to stump up for it. The driver was very pleasant man who had worked out a good scenic route in order for us to take plenty of photographs and to gaze awestruck at the views across and along the Nordfjord.
First he took us to a lay-by high up above the fjord, from where we could look back towards the Ventura, which from this distance seemed to dwarf everything around it even more. We were also able to see a lake in the far distance. Closer to hand was the village of Loen and beyond that Lake Loen (or Lovatnet).
He then drove further along the Nordfjord, stopping at a point where the views across the fjord were simply incredible. Again there was a sense of sheer awe, of realising how small and, really, insignificant we are in the 
presence of such natural majesty. Our driver then took us to Stryn, his home town. We parked in an area next to a river, with views of the glorious Norwegian mountains, many of them covered from head to toe with pine trees. Many of the buildings in Stryn are very pretty – one of them at over 200 years old looking no different to the one next to it, which was barely 20 years of age.
From Stryn we went back down the fjord, past Loen, and on to Lake Loen. The waters of the lake were a fabulous turquoise-green colour that reminded me of some of the lakes I‘d seen in the Dolomites; such a beautiful colour, and yet so clear and still was the water, reflecting the mountains so perfectly. We stopped at a small campsite on the edge of the lake where the owner treated us to a tea and coffee, possibly as a favour to our driver, who no doubt brings a lot of custom to the place. Then it was back to Olden, parting from our driver after thanking him so much for an unforgettable experience.
After lunch and a bit of a rest, I went back ashore and walked into Olden, searching for more photo opportunities. And I was not disappointed. There is a bridge that spans the water where the Nordfjord ends and the River Oldedalen takes over. The river in turns leads to a lake a little further inland. This was a perfect place to take some pictures, of the fjord and of the Oldedalen valley, which was now a lot clearer than it had been in the 
morning. There was also a small church that, like so many buildings we saw on the holiday, was made 
of clapboard painted white. Apparently this church dates from the 1700s, but you would not think so as it looks so pristine and was obviously lovingly looked after. I noticed how incredibly neat the little cemetery outside the church was and how some very old headstones were still perfectly readable. I also found a few places from where I could take some photos of the Ventura, which, because of its sheer size I guess, seemed to act like a magnet.
We set sail again about 5.30 that evening and I went to the front of the Promenade Deck (Deck 7) and took more photos of Nordfjord. I stayed up there for an hour and a half, simply unable to tear myself away from the sheer beauty of what we were sailing through. At first it was pretty darn cold, but as time went by I did not feel the cold. In truth, looking out at the mountains, the little communities that cling to the fjord, in places where you wonder how they connect with the rest of the world, I again felt immensely insignificant.
THURSDAY 2 SEPTEMBER
We arrive at Stavanger, our final port of call before returning to Southampton. We were up well before Ventura reached the town and so were able to look out over the coastline towards the now distant mountains. It was a glorious day, just right for some serious exploring of the town.
We went ashore a little after 10.30. The first place we came to was a sloping pedestrianised piazza, where there were a number of market stalls geared to selling the sort of things that tourists like to buy – and I am not talking about tacky, cheap stuff, although there was some of that. There was a T-shirt on sale that I really liked, which cost only 80 krone. OK, cheap by Norwegian standards maybe, but it looked good quality and had a fantastic image of a Viking warrior on it. Unfortunately, none of them were my size, a problem I often encounter back home, being as I am size XL.
Whilst perusing the stalls, a couple of charming Norwegian students asked if they could ask us some questions as part of a college project they were undertaking. We spent a good quarter of an hour talking with them and then made our way to the Information Office to obtain a guide and a map of the town.
Across from the Information Office is Stavanger Cathedral (St Svithun’s), which was actually modelled on Winchester Cathedral in Hampshire. I would not know, as I have never visited England’s ancient capital city.
St Svithun’s is of more modest dimensions, but for all that was still a beautiful building. Just past the cathedral was a lake (Breiavatnet), which seems to be home to more gulls than ducks. We walked along the side of the lake, taking a few photos needless to say, and admiring a statue of a small boy feeding a family of ducks. We then turned away to find our way to Old Stavanger.
What an absolute diamond of a place Old Stavanger is. It is within the Straen district of the town, and backs on to the harbour. Almost all the buildings are, again, white clapboard, with one or two exceptions. The current buildings are not exceptionally old, because older houses 
had been the victims of numerous fires. However, there is still atmosphere of antiquity about the place. All the buildings are immaculate and betray the loving care that the residents have for such a special area. The majority of the houses had the most attractive floral displays outside them. Some of the plants were clematis, growing out of the smallest openings in the pavement, as were many roses. One house in particular, opposite a small open space, was a total joy to behold, with countless different plants growing in a variety of baskets and pots.
The little street (Øvre Strandgate) was cobbled and made for a pretty bumpy ride, which did not make it easy for Maggie. We were grateful that we had hired an electric wheelchair for the holiday, otherwise we simply could not have had this wonderful experience, or been able to enjoy Bergen anywhere near so much, if at all. Despite the discomfort, however, we both agreed that this little tour of Old Stavanger was simply magical.
Leaving Old Stavanger, we passed through a small area where people could sit and relax. There were, as in other parts of the town, some statues or sculptures here. One was of a man with two very small horses and a cart. Another was of what appeared to be a schoolboy, but it was a third that intrigued us the most. It comprised a top hat on its side, behind which was a blacksmith’s anvil that had propped up against it a saxophone. To complete the picture a monkey sat on the anvil and a parrot was perched on the hat. We had not a clue what it all was supposed to represent, but it was very well done and, as I said, very intriguing.
We made our way back to the centre of the town and wandered round the shopping area, where there were more statues, including one of a boy sitting on a pony, his 
body twisted round so that he was looking back towards something. Then we returned to the market stalls and found some small souvenirs made from Norwegian wood (cue the Beatles!).
We returned to the Ventura just in time to grab lunch in the Waterside Restaurant, taking our time over it and still marvelling at what we had seen in the morning. Then it was back to the cabin.
Evening dinner was the second formal occasion, so it was the whistle and tie again. The food was good, as it had generally been and the company were nice people, as had been the case each evening.
