For this Monday we had booked ourselves onto a 3-hour fjord tour up Osterfjorden, a big channel that runs north from Bergen. It was an out-and-back run to a tiny village called Mostraumen. Our first look at fjord-land.
To get out of the harbor the boat had to thread between the big fisherboats and even bigger cruise ships.
That's only the left half of the cruise ship.
We got a look back at the Bryggen, and other old warehouses.
Then we were out on the open channel and the boat speeded up.
This map shows our route, except that Google Maps doesn't do boats. So the blue line shows the fjord as a car would drive along it.
A fjord is just a long channel. The geology of the region favors rivers or glaciers carving narrow canyons. There are a lot of them, the whole west coast of Norway is like the edge of an old chopping block with criss-cross grooves.
On calm days they make nice reflections.
The captain of our boat liked to run close along the edge of the cliff.
The land is steep everywhere and you wonder how anybody made a farm work with the ground so rocky and steep. This was one of the biggest fields we saw. It can't be fun to work with a tractor on that slope.
The guide pointed out these pens as a salmon farm. We liked seeing all the frustrated seagulls.
Top of the cruise is the quaint village of Mostraumen.
The little white building on the left was the schoolhouse before a road was built. Most of the students came to school by boat.
Back in town after the cruise we walked around the central park and gardens.
This gardener was wearing an OSU sweatshirt.
We said, "Go Ducks!" and he had no clue what we meant. Turned out he once visited relatives in Oregon.
After supper we attended a concert of baroque music in another church.
The concert featured two master musicians from Italy, Andrea Coen on harpsichord and Stefano Bagliano on recorder. Both of us had attempted to tootle the recorder early in life so it was a bit of a revelation to see and hear one played professionally.
We had a near-disaster here. At the end of the concert we got up and walked back to the hotel... leaving the camera behind on a chair.
Ulp.
Run back to the church. Of course, it's dark and locked. Throw selves on mercy of hotel desk person. He looks up the sponsoring outfit, leaves messages. Later that evening calls us to say, one of the organizers has returned his message, has the camera, and will drop it off tonight!
Whew!
We felt very grateful. As a piece of Bergen street art says,
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