Letter from the North Sea

21 May 2013:
We are lurching through a heavy swell somewhere between Newcastle port of Tyne and the Norwegian city of Bergen. According to the captain, the Force 7 winds buffeting the Thomson Spirit and whipping up angry seas are likely to ease off tomorrow.

That will be welcome, especially as the stabilisers – we think it’s the stabilisers - are clinking and clanking outside our porthole. It sounds as though a metal ball is ricocheting from side to side – most irritating.


Meanwhile, like most of the 1,200 passengers on board, we are finding it difficult to walk straight as the ship wallows towards Norway, throwing clouds of spray high into the air. As I have remarked to several passers-by in the passages: “It is not I who am inebriated but the ship.”


We arrived in Newcastle from Edinburgh by rail following a four-day stay in the Scottish capital. At the railway station we came across a Thomson rep who suggested that we leave our bags in a bus and busy ourselves in an adjacent pub for a while. This we did so successfully that the bus later drove off without us. Happily, a second bus was at hand and we later found our bags waiting for us at the harbour.

Checking in was quick and efficient – unlike the booking process.( Thomson’s application forms, like its agents, were simply not set up to accommodate passengers from outside Britain.) Once onboard, a steward directed us to our cabin and having suffered the compulsory life-boat drill, we sought out the four friends who are accompanying us on the voyage.


Let me now reverse gear and start at the beginning. Edinburgh was the fourth of the cities on our itinerary. Our house-sitters arrived at Valapena as planned. As usual we spent a couple of days at home to settle them in.

Then, after taking their leave, we stayed a night at a Faro hotel near the airport before flying to Berlin, there to be met and subsequently royally entertained by Cathy and Rolf. Their immaculate guest apartment has to be the place to stay in Berlin and the selection of fine malt whiskies is unbeatable.

Our hosts suggested that we see a film entitled Searching for Sugarman which had greatly impressed them – and it wowed us. It’s about a South African going in search of a vanished American musician whose songs were once popular in South Africa. However to describe the film is almost to do it an injustice. It’s brilliant.

After spending two days with them in Berlin, the four of us took the train to Prague, a leisurely 4.5 hour journey down the picturesque Elbe valley. Although our six-passenger compartment was fully reserved, the remaining two passengers didn’t show up.

PRAGUE APARTMENT
To discourage others from joining us at intermediate stations, I emitted loud snores while Rolf contributed the most revolting nasal snuffles. So disgusting did we find these that we threatened to leave the compartment ourselves unless he stopped. I’m not sure that I’d want to share a tent with Rolf.


Prague was everything we’d been led to expect. Apart from a taxi ride from the station to our apartment and back, we walked the city from end to end for three days, exploring palaces, churches and galleries.

To avoid the queue for the funicular railway, we climbed up the steep hill for a view across the city. Our spacious apartment was in the heart of the old city, close to numerous restaurants. We couldn’t have asked for more.


Back in Berlin with two days to spare, we spent one of them touring the historic and very pretty town of Potsdam, scene of the post-war conference between Truman, Churchill (Attlee) and Stalin.


At the Schloss Cecilienhof visitors stand in the very room where they met, beside the chairs and desks at which they, their advisors and translators sat. The whole place is imbued with a sense of history.

TRYING ON ROLF'S SUN HAT
On the final day I got myself two new pairs of jeans (C&A keeps exactly my size), and a pair of Ecco slip-ons. We lunched at Fassbender and Rausch’s famous chocolate shop.


The last day also brought a welcome opportunity to catch up with Bernard Simon, a fellow journalist (and good friend of Cathy’s) whom we had last seen in South Africa in the 1970s. He had since moved to Canada. Along with two South African friends, he was spending a few days in Berlin before returning home.


Rolf entertained us all to a truly splendid baked-salmon dinner.

BJ AT SCOTTISH PARLIAMENT
Thence to Edinburgh, courtesy of easyJet. Edinburgh didn’t give us a great welcome. We took the efficient airport bus service to the stop nearest to our rented apartment, only to find the road system in the area in a state of roadwork upheaval. We had to both figure out a route to the apartments and fight our way along narrow pavements through the rush-hour crowds.


Still the apartments were nearly ideal, well-equipped, comfortable and close to the city centre. The downside was the multitude of slamming spring-loaded doors and the stag-parties that resounded around the complex over the weekend. These we survived, however grudgingly, walking miles across the city each day to the galleries and museums that interested us as well as making our way along the obligatory royal mile.

CASTLE IN THE MIST
The castle, at one end, was utterly overpowered by visitors so we postponed that until our next visit.

NOT A GIRL GUIDE

BUT A GIRL GUARD
At the other, Holyrood Palace was closed to visitors for some royal do. Even so, there was a lot of history to be found inbetween these two landmarks and we didn’t mind the inconvenience.


One day we took a boat ride along the Firth (river or estuary) of Forth, under the justly famous Forth bridges and another we visited the former royal yacht, Britannia, now a museum ship anchored permanently at the city’s Leith docks.

Former crew members formed a volunteer squad that now spends four days a year smartening up the ship.

THE QUEEN'S BED
To gaze on the beds where the royals had slept, the chairs at which they sat and the tables at which they ate, was quite fascinating.

The cramped front half of the ship was reserved for the 240 strong crew, the spacious back half for the royal contingent which, on official trips, included some 40 retainers. There’s nothing like travelling light.

The largest room on the vessel was the guest dining room, a room that could and often did accommodate dozens of people, including numerous heads of government and state. Just to lay the tables, we were informed, took three hours. A ruler was used to ensure that all plates and cutlery were placed exactly as required. On such occasions the royal marine band provided suitable music.
THAT'S ENOUGH FOR NOW