August 22 - At sea, Heimaey and Reykjavik

From the Faroes we sailed westward on our transatlantic course.  After a sea day we anchored off the coast of Heimaey, Westman Island.  I was there in June while on the Ovation for my spring cruise and I also had been there last August.  The island is very small (only 5.2 sq. mi.) and the airport and 9-hole golf course and club cover most of the flat land.  It is the largest of the Westman islands and the only populated one with a population of about 4500. It may be short on people, but it more than makes up for that in puffins. In the summer months there are approximately 8 million puffins who come here every year to breed and feed.

It’s a volcanic island and when I came last August I toured and wrote about the nearly catastrophic eruption which occurred in January 1973.  Just to recap and refresh my memory,  in that month the volcano blew and the lava flow destroyed half the town.  The island’s inhabitants mainly rely on fishing and as luck would have it there was a gale at sea which had prevented the fishing fleet from going out.  Most of the islanders were evacuated on the boats and 300 brave men volunteered to stay behind to try to stop the lava from closing the mouth of the harbor. Had that happened Heimaey would have become uninhabitable because the sole source of making a living (fishing) would be gone. With the help of massive pumps provided by the US Navy, those 300 men used cold sea water, something that apparently had not been tried before, to cool and solidify the leading edge of the fiery flow.  Their efforts paid off and the harbor was saved.

Since I’d seen the sights on previous visits I stayed on board and had a nice sea day. We were anchored by some very dramatic cliffs. Actually most of the perimeter of the island is a series of cliffs so I'm uploading some photos from this and my other visits here.  Because I think they're so cute I'm adding a couple of photos from last year of pufflings and puffins. 

Look at all that black lava in the foreground

Hawaii's black sand beaches have stiff competition here except it's too cold to swim

The coast is pretty dramatic!

Baby puffins, pufflings, routinely wind up stranded on land here before they have fledged and can fly. The islanders pick them up, tag them and place them back in the sea which is where they float around until they can fly. That's evidently the normal cycle of a young puffin.

They are pretty cute!

Today we docked in Reykjavik, the capital of Iceland.  This was the end of the cruise for the majority of my fellow passengers. Only 155 of us stayed on for the next leg which ends in New York.  It was a truly miserable day weather wise, cold, windy and raining. Adding to that today was Iceland’s biggest festival day with a marathon, half marathon, 5K run etc. and thus roads were blocked off.  I didn’t have a tour booked because I’ve done most of what was offered and after looking outside my friends and I decided to park ourselves in Seabourn Square and have a relaxing day enjoying each other’s company.  Around noon the new passengers started boarding for the next segment and we watched them getting acquainted with the ship.  One of our group who had not been here before took the all-day tour and came back drenched.  She is an eternally optimistic and cheerful person so she made the best of it and was glad she went.

Tonight we celebrated that lovely lady’s birthday.  We had a special dinner and cake and did a lot of laughing so it was a good night.  I confess that it was a little bittersweet for me because on this date, which was also a Saturday, 56 years ago I married my husband. I’ve been wishing all day that he was here with me.

When we set sail this evening the captain announced that we would be experiencing some rough weather tonight and he was right on the money.  We’re doing a considerable amount of rocking and rolling which makes walking lots of fun.  We all look like we’ve had way too much to drink.  I think the forecast for tomorrow is for more of what we’ve had today so I may have yet another sea day in port.  We’ll be in Ísafjöður at the northwest corner of Iceland and I was there in June too and have seen the sights to be seen.  I’ll see what the morning brings.

August 19 - Tórshavn, Faroe Islands

 After a lovely and relaxing day at sea we docked this morning in Tórshavn, the capital of the Faroe Islands.  The Faroes are an archipelago consisting of 17 islands, 15 of which are populated, most very sparsely.  The total population is only about 55,000. Tórshavn lies at 62° N 7°W, so not quite in the Arctic Circle but close enough that in the summer it’s never totally dark and winter nights are very long.  The Faroes are an autonomous territory of the Kingdom of Denmark. While Frederik X of Denmark is their titular head of state, the Faroese are essentially self-governing.  Over the years there have been efforts to secede from Denmark which are so far unsuccessful.  I found it interesting that even though Denmark is part of the EU, Faroes aren’t.  Therefore they are not subject to the same rules regarding things like fishing that the Irish are.  Following Russia’s takeover of Crimea in 2014 when the EU placed embargos on trade with that country, the Faroes negotiated deals with Putin, and Russia was one of the Faroes biggest importers of fish from the islands.  That arrangement evidently ended when Russia invaded Ukraine and has put a real dent in their trade.

Evidence has been found of settlement on the islands dating back to as early as the mid 4th century. I didn’t know this, but apparently Scandinavians didn’t begin using sails on their boats until around the mid-8th century.  Archaeologists believe the earlier settlers to have been people from Ireland and Scotland which are closer.  I learned a bunch of random facts from our very interesting guide Jakob, a retired chemical engineer, and which I want to remember if they ever come up in a trivia game so here goes.  The Faroes’ weather is affected by the Gulf Stream (that old Gulf Stream affects a large part of the Earth).  Because of it the average year-round temperature is 48° F.  The lowest ever recorded is -11° F.  Tórshavn gets rain about 250 days per year.  The climate is classified as sub-polar.  This was one of the most interesting facts he told us.  The Faroes have one of the highest birth rates in the world.  It’s about 2.6 children per couple whereas ours in the US is down to less than 2.

Enough data, what did I do in the Faroes?  I took what was described as a panoramic drive through the city and countryside.  It was absolutely stunning!  Tórshavn, the capital, has a population of about 22,000 in the city and its immediate surroundings.  In the downtown area near the waterfront the architecture looks very much like that I’ve seen in other Scandinavian cities. There are row houses with steep pitched roofs and many painted with bright colors.  As we drove out of the city we began to see houses with thatched roofs.  Jakob explained that while those roofs are quite a bit more expensive than tile ones, they provide better insulation than tiles and they are much quieter than tiles.

Downtown To2rshavn

Outside the city housing was more this pre-fab modular stuff 

A view of Tórshavn

They have a big football stadium

Tórshavn is on the island of Streymoy and as we drove out into the countryside the volcanic origins of the island group became evident.  Apparently a series of three eruptive events created the island.  The landscape consists of steep mountains interspersed with deep fjords (or sunds as they are called in Danish).  As I looked at the mountains I drove by I could see three distinct layers or terraces of very black basalt rocks covered to some extent by grasses and moss.  In places not covered by grass I could see vertical columns where erosion has caused some of the lava and basalt to crumble and begin to wash away.  Here and there were clefts caused by the frequent rain which formed waterfalls.  These looked really dramatic to me because the rock walls of the falls are very black basalt.  The countryside was dotted with sheep, many of them also black, grazing on the steep hillsides.  We stopped at a couple of overlooks where we could take some photos.  Down at the shoreline there were a few little villages at the edge of a fjord.  Near one such village there was a small sandy beach which Jakob called the Faroes “Copacabana.”

"Copacabana" Faroes version

At another viewpoint we stopped just above a very large group of thatched roof buildings.  These turned out to be the islands' prison.  The Faroes have a very low crime rate and what few criminals they have are sent to this place which didn’t even have a fence topped with barbed wire around it.  Jakob said there’s no place for the prisoners to go anyway.

That's the prison from afar

The prison up close

Baa, baa, black sheep

Surprisingly, to me anyway, salmon were not native to the Faroes originally, but some entrepreneurs brought in salmon eggs, built salmon ladders for the fish to swim upstream and spawn at the appropriate time and now there is a thriving salmon fishing industry.

Along our drive we passed a very large basalt rock quarry and atop one of the mountains we saw some big radar domes which are apparently a big US/NATO station, part of an early warning system monitoring traffic in the ocean between Scandinavia and Iceland.  For all of us fans of Hunt for Red October I think that must be the zone where the Soviet subs made their way from polar ports into the Atlantic.  In the book it was called"Red Route One."

After a nice ride we made it back to the port just before it was time to sail.  I really liked this place!  I had expected to see a flat island covered with tundra permafrost.  Instead, it was a place with dramatic landscape, green with the marvelous contrast of dark black rocks.  I forgot to mention that except for a few in the city there are absolutely no trees. Because of the lack of wood, fish and meat are aged by hanging and drying or by smoking over, wait for this, dried manure or peat.  I did taste some locally bought smoked salmon and it was really very good.

In summary, I found the Faroes fascinating.  I think it’s a hard place to get to except by ship, but I would come here again.  Next we have a day at sea and then we’ll be in Iceland.  So bye for now.

August 17 - Ullapool, Scotland

Yesterday, the 16th of August, we tendered ashore in Oban, Scotland.  I was just there a couple of months ago and had been there before that. Therefore I decided to stay on the ship.  It was also drizzling in the morning and that helped to convince me.  I did consider going into town for lunch because I ate at a great seafood restaurant last time, but my brain told me I didn’t really need to eat that much.

Today we anchored off Ullapool in Loch Broom in the Scottish counties of Ross and Cromarty.  We were unable to sail in here earlier this year, so I did go ashore with one of my friends.  Ullapool is a village with around 1600 residents. Loch Broom on whose shore the village lies is a deep-sea loch and so it is a significant ferry port for traffic to some of the Outer Hebrides islands and their towns like Stornoway. A few years ago Ullapool was named one of the 20 most beautiful villages in the British Isles by Condé Nast Traveler magazine.  I can see why.

As we got off the tender at the top of the ramp we met a delightful lady named Allison who is a local volunteer greeter to the village. She was a font of information. My friend Claudia wanted to find a yarn shop and I was looking for a bookstore.  (I love to browse in old-fashioned bookstores in these little places.  They are so much more interesting than our big stores like Barnes and Noble.) Both of us were interested in a good place for fish and chips.  We could see a couple of fancy looking places from the dock, nut Allison clued us in to one around the corner and a few doors away from those.  That’s where we went and wow, was it good!

That's Allison from Ullapool in the middle. Ignore the person on the left.

The place was called Deli-Ca-Sea Fish & Chips Café. There were perhaps six tables covered with blue and white vinyl tablecloths. They had Cullen Skink soup on the menu. That’s the soup I discovered back in the spring and absolutely loved.  It’s a creamy fish chowder made with smoked haddock and it’s divine despite its strange name.  Claudia ordered fish and chips and I ordered the soup and we shared because the servings were enormous.  The food was so good!  After lunch we walked up the little hill and found a yarn shop and a shop selling local arts and crafts.  Another friend of ours is celebrating her birthday in a few days and I found a nice little hand-made bag for her. Claudia said the wool was coarser than what she likes to knit usually so she didn’t get anything.  Next we found the bookshop which had that wonderful smell of paper and print that old bookstores have.  There was a large section of books about Scotland, both fiction and non-fiction, and I found a book that sounded interesting.  One section had only books written in Gaelic and I wished I could read that because they looked interesting.

After wandering around a little more down on Shore Street next to the Loch we headed back to the tender dock.  Allison was still there so we thanked her for the lunch recommendation.

We made it back in time for trivia.  We didn’t win, but we also didn’t come in last. I met three friends, all of us widows, for cocktails before dinner and then we ate in the alternative restaurant.  I think we were the next to the last table to leave; we were having so much fun and laughing so much.  One of the ladies, a new Aussie friend and I adjourned to the Club where we danced a little and enjoyed the bands.  How lucky I am to be able to meet so many people from all over the world and enjoy seeing all these lovely places! Life is good!

August 15 - Sliabh Liag

We docked at a small port called Killybegs off the bay of Donegal today and my tour took me to another set of cliffs, Sliabh Liag.  I had absolutely no idea how to pronounce that so I asked Michael the driver before I boarded the bus.  Sliabh Liag is “Sleeve League.”  How “bh” came to be pronounced “V” is a mystery to me.

It’s worth writing just a little about Killybegs, the town where we docked.  It is mainly a deep-sea fishing port and in the harbor next to us were many multimillion-dollar commercial fishing trawlers, all sitting idle.  Robin, our guide, told us that the fleet may only fish for 4 to 6 weeks under EU rules (Ireland is still part of the European Union unlike the UK).  I suspect the restriction and limitation is because the EU doesn’t want over-fishing to occur.  It was unclear to me what our guide thought about that because he did mention several times and emphasized that they were very expensive vessels that also cost a great deal of money to maintain even when sitting at the docks.  Hopefully they make enough money worth their catches during the short fishing season.  On our way out of town we passed processing plants where the fish are sent after being off-loaded to be cleaned and flash frozen for shipment round the world.

The fishing fleet sitting idle at Killybegs

The countryside here which is further north than yesterday is considerably rockier than down in Galway.  There were essentially no farms because of the rocky terrain so most of the land is devoted to sheep or cows.  Also because of the terrain there is a different breed of sheep here.  These are better able to graze where there is less lush grass.  A consequence of that is that the ewes of the breed raised here generally have only one lamb per year whereas the breed further south may have two or three per year.  I know nothing about raising livestock but I found that interesting.

I liked this wreck of a boat along an inlet we passed. It won't be going to sea any time soon.

After a short bus ride we arrived at the visitor center and jumping off place for viewing today’s cliffs.  (One of my friends onboard who heard I was going to see more cliffs today said “Oh, you must be a cliffhanger!”  Ha! Ha!)

We got into some very small vans and drove up a winding, steep road to the summit of Sliabh Liag.  As we wound around we passed a bunch of people who are crazy in my opinion hiking or bike-riding up and down.  It looked very daunting to me and my fellow passengers.  

The cliffs of Sliabh Liag are the highest in Ireland with the highest point being 690 meters above sea level or about 1970 feet.  Unlike the cliffs of Moher which are nearly vertical these are more at an angle and do have a little vegetation in patches of the rocks.  Once again from the viewing platform we could see the waves crashing at the foot of the cliffs and there were even a few tiny sandy beaches where the rocks had been ground into what looked like fine white sand. While on the platform an Irishman whose family is from these parts played his guitar and serenaded us with a traditional Irish folk song he’d written. If I can figure out how to upload the little video I recorded I’ll put it here, but I always have trouble with that.

One of three man-made cairns on the road to the top og the cliffs

These are different views of Sliabh Liag

I can't upload the video but here's our Irish troubador.

After our stay at the top of the cliffs we rode down to the visitor center where we had what must be the standard afternoon fare, a scone and tea. Yesterday’s in Lisdoonvarna was better, but since I’d missed breakfast and lunch and was feeling a little peckish, it still hit the spot.  

We sailed not long after I got back to the ship and our course took us out past Sliabh Liag.  I went up to the Observation Bar which has a great view through floor to ceiling windows to see the cliffs from the sea.  Everybody else had the same idea and the place was packed but a friend and I found a place to sit with a lovely couple from Chicago.  I can see that if one came to Ireland the guide was absolutely right that the best thing to do would be to take a boat trip off the coast to better grasp the majesty of the cliffs.

These are the cliffs from offshore. I'm sure they are much more dramatic from a small boat up close.

This was our last stop in Ireland and now we’re off to Scotland.  The Executive Chef, who happens to be Scottish, in anticipation of the next few days offered a main course of Haggis, neeps and tatties.  You can look up what haggis is; neeps and tatties are mashed turnips and potatoes.  The dish is cooked with and served with a delicious sauce generously flavored with whiskey.  I’d never tried haggis, which gets an undeserved reputation in my opinion, until a few cruises ago and now I can say I am always pleased when it’s on the menu.  If you haven’t tried it and you have the chance, you really should.

Before I close this entry I should say that the food has been wonderful on this cruise as it was when I was here earlier in the year. Everything that I’ve had has been very good and there have been lots of choices. Seabourn is making a real effort to introduce lots of local things so in most ports the chef is buying local fresh fish, cheeses, meats and cold cuts and sausages.  We’re in no danger of going hungry! 

So for now , slán and oíche mhaith!

August 14 - In the Land of the King with the Donkey Ears

We anchored today off the city of Galway in County Clare, Ireland.  It’s midway up the Atlantic Coast of the Republic of Ireland.  I’ve never been to this side.  This is the stepping off point to see the Cliffs of Moher, stunning sea cliffs that I’ve seen in many National Geographic and PBS documentaries, so I had booked a tour to see them.

We were scheduled to assemble in the Grand Salon at 8:45 AM to tender ashore as a group.  As everyone knows I’m a late riser so this was a real chore for me, but I was there. Unfortunately, there must have been some snags in the tendering process because we didn’t get going until nearly an hour late.  I would have loved to stay in bed an hour longer. Oh, well!

After the long delay we went ashore, boarded our bus and took off. (As an aside which I think I’ve mentioned before, I can’t sleep on a plane but put me on a bus and I doze off within five minutes.) All that I saw of the city of Galway were the brief glimpses leaving the waterfront and returning later in the day and nothing looked particularly memorable.

The Town Crier of Galway greeted us as we got off the tender with a proclamation welcoming us and declaring us Irishmen for the day.

We drove through the countryside into the neighboring County Clare to arrive at the Cliffs of Moher.  It was about an hour and a half drive.  Our guide Peter talked the whole time giving us information about the area and its history.  Of course, like all of Ireland the places we passed through were under British rule for hundreds of years, many of which were contentious.  I’ve only heard the Irish version of the stories, but I believe that the English were not good rulers and masters and the Irish were treated very poorly. At times the latter were forced en masse to move from their ancestral homes so that their British absentee landlords could appropriate and farm their land.  But that’s not what I was here to see and learn about today.

As we rode along through the countryside I did notice that despite Ireland being known as “the Emerald Isle” it didn’t look especially green today.  Apparently like much of Europe, Ireland has been going through an extended warm summer with less rain than usual.  Hence, the fields and grasses looked brown and at best pale green.   Excessive heat can be relative depending on what’s usual and our guide told us that in County Clare and Galway when the temperature is higher than 72° F a heat alert is declared.  Today we were at 72.4°.  I also noticed that the terrain is quite rocky so that interspersed in fields there are large rocks and boulders. Our guide told us that it’s difficult land to farm for that reason, and it’s even difficult to build houses because when attempting to dig to build a foundation the rock layer is close to the surface.  Another thing I found interesting is that as we drove along we would occasionally pass a tumbled-down and abandoned house made of stones.  These are called “famine houses” and were ramshackle structures made of mud and stone in which whole families lived along with any farm animals they might have during the famine years of the great potato famine in the 19th century.  Many were abandoned when the great Irish migration to North America began.  Now it’s against the law to tear them down and they serve as a reminder of an unhappy chapter in Irish history.

These next are several photos of the countryside we rode through on our way to the cliffs.  While the fields were still green, they looked no where near as lush as they did when I was here earlier this year.

An old castle along the way

This village we passed is typical of what villages along the water look like with colorful row houses along the waterfront.

Some happy cows enjoying a little siesta

More Irish countryside

Eventually we arrived at the Cliffs of Moher which are part of a Geopark. There is a visitor center built into a hillside and paths winding their way up to the top of the cliffs.  The cliffs lie at the edge of the Atlantic coast and stretch for about 9 miles.  At their highest point near O’Brien’s Tower they reach their maximum height of just over 700 feet.  They consist of layers of shale and sandstone sediment which have accrued over millennia as the ice receded following the Ice Age and erosion carried sediment down rivers and streams.  The cliffs quite literally are nearly vertical to the ocean below.  From the heights you can see the waves crashing below and as a result of the wave and wind action there are portions which are unstable and will go crashing down into the sea below.  The rock walls are great nesting places for a variety of birds.  We didn’t have the opportunity but apparently one of the best ways to see the cliffs is by boat. From the sea our guide told us one can get the best sense of their full majesty and also be able to see the variety of puffins, razorbills and other birds nesting in the rocks.  Along the base of the cliffs there is also a large population of marine life, including seals, porpoises, dolphins and whales.

These are the Cliffs of Moher.  The pictures don't really do justice to quite how dramatic they are.

O'Brien's Tower at the top of promontory where there is an excellent viewing platform.

It’s a pretty steep walk going up to the top of the cliffs, but fortunately for those of us not as fit as we once were, there are golf cart shuttles to take you up!  I hitched a ride up and down.  At the top by O’Brien’s Tower I walked around and could see the majesty of the coast.  It was a cloudy day  (thankfully not raining!) and at the top very windy and quite chilly.  The view was as impressive as I thought it would be.  These cliffs are among the highest in Europe. I took my pictures and then shuttled down because I was getting pretty cold.

My friend Stephanie got this photo of me riding up in the golf cart so I couldn't even pretend I hiked up.

We had an opportunity to look in the visitor center and browse in the gift shop and then we headed out (after one terribly rude woman came back to the bus nearly 15 minutes late) to drive to the nearby village of Lisdoonvarna where we were to have tea and scones and a musical interlude in a café.  

If you’ve watched any Hallmark Channel movies you may know of this place.  In September Lisdoonvarna holds the annual Matchmaker’s Festival with activities centered at the Matchmaker’s Bar.  Approximately 60,000 visitors come each year to participate in activities ranging from matchmaking (of course) to dancing and live music concerts.  I can’t remember the name of the movie but when I saw the place I remembered seeing the show.

This bus in the parking lot at the Cliffs just tickled me.

One of many pubs we passed.  This one was celebrating 20 years of the "Galway Hooker" and I have to wonder what or who that is.

I love all the flower boxes and baskets festooning these places.

The Matchmaker's Bar which is the headquarters of the annual festival

We had a lovely scone and some great tea  in the café.  While we enjoyed our snack a young Italian woman played us some classical pieces.  I was expecting some Irish music, but I guess for that we would have had to go to a pub and had a pint of Guiness.  I think I preferred the tea and scone.

These two lovely copper statues graced the tiny little square in Lisdoonvarna where we waited for our coach.

Ireland has many folktales and legends.  Years ago when Katie and I visited we heard the one about Finn McCool when we went to the Giant’s Causeway.  On our ride back to Galway  Peter, who clearly has kissed the Blarney Stone because he liked to talk,  told us about Lonegan, the king of County Clare who had donkey ears.  A long time ago Lonegan the king had donkey ears which he kept secret from the whole world by wearing a crown and keeping his hair cut so it covered and hid the ears.  When he got a haircut he would execute the barber so his secret wouldn’t be divulged.  Being a barber became known to be a dangerous profession despite people not knowing why.  A young lad named Donnel wanted to be a barber and trained and became quite accomplished.  Lonegan ordered Donnel to come and cut his hair.  Donnel’s mother who didn’t want to lose her beloved son went to the palace and began basically pitching a fit, wailing, moaning and carrying on so that everyone there had to plug their ears to drown out the noise.  The king asked what the horrible racket was and was told that Donnel’s mum didn’t want her son to cut the king’s hair for fear of never seeing him again.  The king promised he wouldn’t have the son killed if he swore to keep his secret from any human being.  So Donnel cut Lonegan’s hair and became privy to the secret of the donkey ears.  The king kept his word and sent Donnel on his way.  Unfortunately Donnel was terribly bothered having this terrible knowledge and began to waste away.  His mother tried to get him to divulge the secret, but her son kept his promise even though it was making him ill.  His mum told him to go down to the river and tell the secret to a tree since that wasn’t a human.  Donnel did that and shared his secret with a willow tree along the banks of the river and felt greatly relieved.  Soon after a passing Irish harpist came along, saw the fine willow tree, and cut a few branches to make a new harp.  The harpist came to the King’s palace and was invited to play for King Lonegan.  As he started to strum his harp it began to play on its own accord and sang “Oh, the king has donkey ears, the king has donkey ears!”  Lonegan’s secret was revealed to the world by the loose “lips” of the harp and he had to uncover his strange ears for everyone to see.  I think the tale had a happy ending because the king no longer had to go to great lengths to hide his ears and no more barbers had to die.  Now aren’t you glad you know this Irish tale?  

In conclusion, after rambling on so much, it was a very nice and entertaining day, even though I had to get up at the crack of dawn (by my standards at least).  TTFN!