20th August 2014

A peaceful night’s sleep, gently rocked by the motion of the ship, left us bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at 7:30 a.m. We had breakfast with Barry and Jan (though I’m not sure they were thrilled by the company) before heading down the gangplank to a sunny and surprisingly warm Trondheim quay.

Most passengers disembarking queued for the transit bus, which we were told would take 5–10 minutes to reach the city centre. Instead, we strolled over the road, crossed a pedestrian bridge, and were there in very little time. I suspect it took longer for those boarding the bus than it did for us to walk it. Then again, we’re not over 70 with painful arthritis like many of our crewmates!

Our first stop was a large Catholic church, though it didn’t leave much of an impression beyond seeming to offer hot drinks to down-and-out Vikings. We continued to St. Olav’s statue, beneath which an open-air market was just setting up for the day (Norwegians must enjoy their late mornings; perhaps they’re well-suited to six months of winter darkness!). Next on our list was Trondheim Cathedral, followed by the adjacent monastery-palace complex. From there, we strolled down the river to the old bridge, paused for a few photos, and crossed over to see the famous bike lift.

We stood for a while, intrigued by a man orchestrating races to the top of the hill for pairs of students. Curious, I struck up a conversation with him. In fluent English (naturally), he explained he was a teacher, and this was part of their PE class. Sue asked him how the bike lift worked, and, as he had a bike with him, he demonstrated and then offered his bike for her to try. Of course, she volunteered me instead! I suddenly regretted not paying closer attention to his demo, being more focused on taking photos.

With the controls set to ‘beginner,’ I mounted the bike, positioned my foot on the ground plate, and waited. After a moment, the plate began to move, propelling my foot (and me) forward. It was no small feat to keep my leg straight on the plate and the wheels close to the kerb (the consequences of drifting too far didn’t bear thinking about). To my relief, and the friendly teacher’s mild surprise, I managed to get myself and the bike up to the top without incident. Then, with brakes firmly engaged to avoid any runaway drama, I freewheeled back down to the applause of some onlooking Brits.

To the King of Norway: your bikes were thoroughly tested!

We continued along the river, admiring the charming, brightly coloured houses, until we reached a more modern bridge. From there, we retraced our steps along the opposite bank. Climbing the hill once more, I fully appreciated why the clever Norwegians, if a bit inclined to shortcuts, installed a bike lift. Both Sue and I were exhausted by the time we reached the top.

We found Trondheim Fort and spent a pleasant hour exploring and photographing every inch of it. On our way back to the ship, we passed the Royal Palace and made a quick stop at the Fish Market. I was tempted to book a trip to an island off the coast that had once served as a monastery, then a prison, and now a tourist spot. However, Sue, feeling peckish, was more eager to head back to the ship for lunch.

We dined in the Conservatory Restaurant, chatting with fellow passengers. It’s surprising how many people choose to stay on board rather than explore the ports, with their reasons being as varied and unexpected as the passengers themselves, though curiously, age doesn’t seem to be the deciding factor.

Later, Sue found a quiet spot to read and then headed to the cinema to watch the film, ‘Breathe In’. Meanwhile, I rested a bit after my Olympic-level cycling exertions, then grabbed a coffee and a hot dog at Al Fresco before heading on deck to watch the ship leave the harbour. It was fascinating to see how, with a mix of side propellers and well-coordinated release of mooring cables, the ship eased away from the quay and then engaged its rear ‘big guns’ to head out into the channel.

As we steamed into open water, a small flotilla of yachts was engaged in a race. Luckily for them, we manoeuvred around rather than ploughed through the middle, which I thought would have been far more entertaining and a real test of their yachting skills. Opportunity missed!

We met back in the cabin, changed for the evening meal, and then made our way to the rear theatre to enjoy a performance by the ship’s band, featuring a selection of Glenn Miller songs accompanied by a narrative of his life. I hadn’t realised Sue was such a fan of this music; she lit up with each tune she recognised.

At dinner, the elusive couple from Yorkshire joined our table, which, with their addition, became a delightful bastion of good taste and common sense! They were friendly and quickly joined in with the cheerful banter.

On our way to the “Reel 2 Reel” dance and song extravaganza in the theatre, I heard someone call my name. Looking back, I spotted a couple who clearly recognised me, though I could only muster the faintest inkling of familiarity. We exchanged a few words about the cruise as we walked, but despite my attempts at subtle probing, I couldn’t quite place them. We parted at the theatre doors, where Sue had already saved me a seat. The couple waved at us from across the theatre, but Sue was equally puzzled.

After a superb show, we decided to wait at the entrance to solve the mystery. Sue, ever tactful, cleared things up by asking directly who they were and how we knew each other. It turned out she had been a secretary at Meadows Primary School in Wigston, where I’d taught some 25 years earlier. We chatted for a while, reminiscing about the staff I could recall, and left with plans to continue catching up whenever we crossed paths again.

We returned to our cabin, ready for another peaceful night’s sleep.