A Sea Day & Bergen

“Life is all memory except for the one present moment
that goes by so quickly you hardly catch it going.”  ~ Tennessee Williams

August 5, 2019

I’ve been trying to grasp that eternal moment each day. As a result, I haven’t been as faithful to the blog as I’d hoped, but today is my chance to catch up. (This is actually being written on 8/10. We’ve left Norway astern and are steaming toward Southampton.)

My international man of mystery!

On Monday the 5^th, we sailed out of Southampton, through the English Channel and into the North Sea. The waters continue to be calm, which is a wonder after having seen video of the terrible bucking of that Viking ship earlier this year. We’ve been fortunate to catch the North Sea in a friendly mood. Of course, it may also be due to the construction of the Queen Mary 2 herself. As an oceanliner, not a cruise ship, she’s built to handle rough seas.

We intended to go to the art class this morning but no instructor appeared. We think perhaps no one told him/her that unlike all the previous time changes, Cunard decided to take away another hour during the night instead of at noon. Personally, I’d rather lose or gain an hour while I’m sleeping. Jumping the clock ahead at noon makes the day feel artificially smooshed.

After lunch on the Lido deck, we frittered the day away in our cabin, reading and relaxing. We really don’t have to be entertained. 

Just being together is enough.

August 6^th , Bergen

What a thrill to sail into Bergen in the soft light of pre-dawn. The craggy islands in the outer harbor welcomed us with our first look at the DH’s ancestral homeland. Norway is ruggedly beautiful. Our scheduled excursion didn’t start until afternoon, so once the ship was cleared by Norwegian customs agents, we set off on foot to explore the city.

Norway is very vertical and Bergen reminds me of Seattle. All the streets go up fairly steeply from the water, so it’s a good thing we weren’t part of an organized walking tour.  I can do steep, but it has to be at my pace. 

This fellow in front of one of the public buildings reminded me a bit of my brother-in-law, Griff. In fact, we see a lot of faces on the street that wouldn't be out of place at the DH's family reunions!

One of the things our watercolor classes have taught us is to “look small.” In this land of larger-than-life landscapes, it can be a challenge to focus on the wonders closer at hand, but I set out consciously to do it. When we get home, I’ll upload the pictures I snapped of flowers, statues, small architectural elements in the charming houses and—believe it or not!—manhole covers.

Yes, manhole covers. They are all different and quite ornate. (Just as a side note. There has been some silliness recently about using non-gendered language. I have no trouble calling these maintenance hatches a manhole. What woman in her right mind would want to go into one?)

After lunch, we went by coach to Troldhaugen, the summer home of Edvard Grieg, Norway’s most famous composer. Grieg had an accident as a young man which resulted in the collapse of one lung. As a result, he suffered from ill health most of his life and made it a point to winter in Italy to escape Norway’s cold. He married his cousin, Nina, who was an accomplished musician and soprano in her own right. Edvard always said he preferred the way she sang his songs over any other artist. Sadly, no professional recordings of her voice remain. They had a daughter, Alexandra, but she died before the age of two. 

As often happens when a couple loses a child, they grew apart. There was some talk of Edvard going off to live with an Italian lady painter, but he and Nina must have reconciled because they stayed together, and summered at Troldhaugen until his death at 64. His wife didn't stay in Norway after his death. Nina lived on to the rip old age of 90 in Denmark.  

This life-sized statue of Grieg shows just how small a man he was. Despite his frail health, he loved to walk and hike mountain trails. With frequent stops for a beer and an extra breath! 

The sod in the foreground is actually the roof of the concert hall!

Since I’ve played Grieg’s piano music, and one of the first art songs I ever studied was his Solveig’s Song, this is an excursion I really anticipated! I was not disappointed. Not only did we tour the main level of their small house and see his piano, we were treated to an excellent piano recital in the new concert hall built on the site.

I was transported. Grieg may have been a very small man (both he and Nina were under 5 feet tall) but his ideas were monumental. His music has a stark, muscular quality, perfectly attuned to the bigness of this land. Listening to exquisitely performed music in an idyllic setting, fully aware of just how blessed I am to be there doing these amazing things…it was a moment of perfect joy. Times like this are why I travel.

More soon…