EDITOR'S NOTE: Today, we offer Part Four of a seven-day series on boat-related vacations that leave the steering, cooking and maintenance to somebody else. For more about this series and why we did it, please see the Room 13 blog.
Kirkenes, Norway, may be the only place on Earth where the sight of wildflowers and virgin pine forests is a letdown. The town, about 850 miles above the Arctic Circle, is closer to the North Pole than to the capital in Oslo so a visitor could be forgiven for expecting something more intense than Currier and Ives scenery.
But then the Arctic culture begins to unfold: getting stuck in a reindeer traffic jam, for instance, or opening up a menu to find the daily special is pan-fried whale.
Kirkenes is the starting point of a six-day Norwegian Coastal Voyage trip down a jigsaw shoreline that resembles an unfinished puzzle. According to local legend, God created the world in six days and on the seventh, he had so many leftover stones he threw them on the ground and called it Norway. That's one way to explain this crazy coastal topography of endless islands, year-round snow-capped mountains and fjords carved out of ancient glaciers.
The Norwegian Coastal Voyage fleet of 11 vessels has been navigating these waters for more than a hundred years. Ships like the 490-passenger MS Nordkapp deliver everything from food to coffins to towns tucked away in 34 ports of call. These days, though, people are the main cargo and Mother Nature provides the entertainment. Standard rooms on the Nordkapp are compact, with a seating area, fold-down berth and usually a view. The newest vessels in the fleet are the Millennium ships, which have a gym, sauna, Internet café, multiple restaurants and beautifully suites with balconies.
Iyna Bort Caruso
There are many ways to get on the water, and not all of them involve sitting in the captain's chair. While we all love our boats, planning a vacation as a passenger this winter will allow you to travel to exotic waters while leaving the hassles to someone else. To lend some inspiration to your planning, Mad Mariner is publishing a story every day this week that highlights vacations both exotic and aquatic - vacations to places like Norway, where at least it is cold and beautiful.
15 POUND CRABS
During World War II, when Norway was under German occupation, Kirkenes' strategic location on the Russian border and the Barents Sea made it a battleground. By war's end, it was reduced to rubble and had the sad distinction of being one of the most bombed-out places in all of Europe. To this day, mountains are hollow from use as bunkers, rocks are pockmarked from torpedo holes, and undersea divers encounter war wrecks.
Yet those same divers also surface with some of the largest king crabs in the world–a 15-pounder is considered puny–and boil them up in seawater for a polar-style, haute cuisine feast. The only thing better is topping it off with a hot tub soak under a brilliant midnight sun. It's tough to leave Kirkenes, but the ship and gorgeous coastline await.
This section of Norway is called Finnmark, a region as large as Switzerland with a population of less than 75,000. Call it the land of the "northernmost." It boasts the northernmost town, the northernmost church, even the northernmost golf course. The distinctions are endless and sometimes gimmicky. But the North Cape, located on a bare rock of an island 1,000 feet above the North Atlantic, genuinely feels like the end of the world. The very upper reaches of mainland Europe, this windswept swatch of land is the last stop before the one reserved for the truly fearless: the North Pole itself.
Iyna Bort Caruso
In ancient times, North Cape was a place of sacrifice by the indigenous Sámi people. Some 70,000 Sámis still live in the northern Lapland reaches of Sweden, Finland and Russia, though Norway remains home to the majority. Bilingual road signs in Norwegian and Sámi make the point. About a third make their living as traditional reindeer herders, and the buttery reindeer skin blankets they sell are popular souvenirs.
The Gulf Stream tempers the climate, which allows for polar communities at latitudes that Greenland and Artic Canada cannot support. Still, cold is cold–at least for all but the toughest Nordlendingers, as the folks in the extreme north call themselves. They routinely dismiss questions about subzero temps. "There is no bad weather," insists a bus driver named Tor-Olaf, "only bad clothes."
THE NORTHERN LIGHTS
The big chill is no barrier for this snowmobile and chain-tire society, where bonfires and winter campouts are frozen treats. On a clear winter night, the reward for braving the arctic blasts is a front row seat to the Aurora Borealis, otherwise known as the Northern Lights. This heavenly phenomenon occurs in the Arctic Circle when charged solar particles light up the winter sky with a magnificent light show.
When spring comes, the sun rises and stays put. From about mid-May until the end of August, it never dips below the horizon. On a clear July night, pink clouds stripe the sky like peppermint sticks. It may be 1 a.m. but the Ray-Bans are on and it's just too beautiful to call it a night.
As the MS Nordkapp steers around atolls and through fjords, it appears some madcap master architect had a field day. The building blocks of islands and mountains are assembled in subtly different formations, resulting in dramatically different landscapes, mile by nautical mile. Out of nowhere, a mist takes over, covering the sea like a steamy cauldron and turning the scenery positively Jurassic. The mist, locals say, means the elves are dancing.
Heading south, the ports of call begin to look less like frontier outposts. From the fifth-floor open-air deck, passengers enjoy the views, snuggled under swathes of plaid wool blankets. "I'm suffering from fresh air pollution," a German tourist jokes.
WITCHES AND TROLLS
Harstad is a town on Norway's largest island that used to make its living exporting herring. Now it's a place that reflects the country's wealth. The discovery of North Sea oil in the late 1960s transformed Norway into one of the world's richest and most expensive countries. "We have a good life here," says tour guide Harald Isachesen.
It's about as boastful as a Norwegian ever gets.
Like Kirkenes, Harstad has a gloomy war history. It was the site of a prisoner of war camp, used by the Germans for slave labor. Conditions were so harsh the men burned the wood floors of their barracks for warmth. Some 800 Russian soldiers perished as prisoner, their deaths marked by a modest concrete memorial. It stands in the shadows of the Trondenes church, built both as sanctuary and fortress in the Viking era and later converted from Catholic to Lutheran after the Reformation. Generations have been confirmed, baptized, married and buried here.
Each passing vista from the ship is like another page of a child's picture book. The granite peaks have created enough tales to fill an elephant's ear. Over at Hornelen Mountain, witches are said to gather at the summit on Midsummer Eve and dance with old St. Nick. From the Seven Sisters Mountains, a bit further south, girls ran away from their father one night a long time ago and danced naked in the waters of the fjords. When the sun rose the next day, they were turned into stone.
In Norwegian mythology, sunlight also turns trolls to stone. These crooked-nosed, four-fingered creatures hide out in forests and on mountainsides, emerging only after dark. Clearly, more than a few trolls have been caught beyond daybreak–it's the only way to explain the uncanny troll-like features of so many rock formations.
The closest you can get to one here is a spin on the Troll Fjord. Norway is one of only four places in the world that has fjords, joining Alaska, Chile and New Zealand. A fjord is a narrow sea channel gouged out by glaciers. This one is just over a mile long and a fraction of that wide. The ship enters the fjord and into the shadows of the mountains. Their sheer sides pose a threat of rock falls. The captain maneuvers a three-point turn in the fjord so passengers can appreciate it from every angle. "The view is a blessing today," someone on the packed sundeck says.
HISTORY AND HARDSHIP
When ports of call are too short for a long excursion, there's usually time for a leg-stretching expedition into harbor towns, where stocky oystercatchers fly overhead and cry a wistful soundtrack. It's a chance to admire the terraced, wood-framed homes, some with grass roofs, like the ones in the beautiful Lofoten Islands. Many homes are painted the red of traditional fishing cabins called rorbuer, though the originals paints were created from cod liver oil and animal blood.
Today, though, petroleum is Norway's number one industry, and fishing is its legacy. This heritage is reflected in the original art collection onboard the ship by Norway's most famous living artist, Karl Erik Harr. The cruise company commissioned Harr to create a kind of floating art gallery, one that reflects the hardships of the coastal people. His seascapes show nothing serene or peaceful. The paintings are stripped of romanticism. The skies threaten. The waves bully. You can almost feel the seasickness.
That rugged way of life hasn't disappeared. Fishing, even whaling, remains big business, and the Nordkapp's dining room is as good a place as any to sample Scandinavian delicacies like herring, fried cod tongues and minke whale meat burgers. Whale hunting is extremely regulated in Norway–and still controversial. Other house specialties are super-lean reindeer filets and tart polar cloudberries that are whipped into mousses, syrups and jams.
Natives wash down their meals with chilled shots of the potato-based liqueur called Aquavit, but a uniquely Norwegian version of the spirit. Linie brand Aquavit is shipped from Norway across the equator to Australia and back in oak caskets. Sloshing around in ocean swells is said to give it a richer, mature flavor.
After nearly a week, the ship closes in on the invisible line of the Arctic Circle: latitude 66° 30 N. On northbound voyages, an Arctic Circle "baptism" takes place when the ship crosses into polar territory. Ice cubes are poured down the backs of passengers–those who volunteer, that is–to prepare them for their arctic adventure. Body-warming shots of Linie aquavit follow.
On the southbound trip out, though, the passage is uneventful. Ask a ship official, and he'll tell you it's because the Arctic Circle is crossed in the morning when most people are still waking up. The real reason? It's impossible to feel like celebrating when you're about to leave behind this incredible corner of the world.