24th August 2014

Lying in bed, we heard the unmistakable sound of the Oriana docking in our next port of call, Andalsnes. It was 8 am, so we dragged ourselves out of bed and had a quick breakfast. Stepping out onto the deck, we were met with some of the most jaw-dropping scenery you could ever hope to see. Eager to get closer to it, we dashed back to our cabin, threw on our walking gear, and were ready for action. We had briefly considered booking a train trip along the fjord, but I must say, I’m rather glad we didn’t.

As we disembarked, we stumbled upon a quaint little tourist information office right on the quay, and to our surprise, we bumped into both our dinner companions there. After exchanging pleasantries, we had a chinwag about what we were going to do for the day. We had decided to tackle the mountain, while they were planning to take on the town and the river walk. And so, off we went on our separate adventures!

Arriving at the foot of the mountain, we stood for a while with other intrepid climbers, squinting at the Norwegian information board, trying to decipher what it said about the mountain trail. None the wiser, we decided to make a start and head upwards. After about 15 minutes, following a well-marked path (some of which was along a metal walkway), we reached a small hut at 340m. There, we dutifully signed the book, a safety feature, and pressed on.

Another 20 minutes of increasingly challenging terrain brought us to another sign-in book, followed by yet another one further on. Along the way, we passed many Brits coming down, having given up due to slippery conditions, among other excuses. We were also overtaken by Norwegians, some of them with children who were completely unfazed by the effort and danger, merrily chatting and enjoying the climb. It struck me that, so far, we hadn’t seen a single overweight Norwegian!

After just over an hour of climbing, much of it along narrow ledges with chains bolted into the rock, we finally reached a metal walkway suspended over the abyss. How on earth did they get that up here? After snapping some photos, many of which were of the glacier on the mountain across the valley, we had a chat with another adventurous English couple. For them, this was as far as they were going, and Sue, who had done brilliantly to get this far, decided to head back with them. I, on the other hand, pressed on towards the top.

  

Around half an hour later, I finally reached the top. A Norwegian couple was sitting outside a mountain rescue hut, and a few others were scattered about the summit. I hung around for about 20 minutes, snapping photos, poking around the hut, and having a chat with a lone English woman who had done the same climb the year before.

The descent was fairly uneventful, save for a few climbers asking how much further it was to the top. I resisted the temptation to have a bit of fun with them and simply told the truth. However, as I parted ways, I couldn’t help but mention that the pub at the top had just closed because they’d run out of beer.

By the time I reached the bottom, I was thoroughly fed up with the descent, especially after an elderly gentleman, who must have been at least 90, sprinted past me! Up until then, I’d been the smug one, overtaking others with ease. But him? He must have been on something stronger than a walking stick!

It began to drizzle as I reached the dock. Back in the cabin, I found a message from Sue saying she was having lunch at Al Fresco. I tracked her down in the conservatory, and we both had lunch before heading back to the cabin. After a quick shower, I went on deck to snap a few more photos, while Sue went off to the cinema to watch ‘Chef’.

We met back on deck as the ship left harbour, and spent some time watching the scenery slide by. We were particularly mesmerised by the numerous waterfalls silently cascading down cliffs over 1000m high from sources so far out of sight that they seemed to defy logic. A brief shower brought with it a bizarre rainbow, which seemed to stretch right over the ship and then arc a full 270 degrees, touching the hull (I even have the photo to prove it!). As the ship picked up speed, it got a bit chilly, so we retreated to Al Fresco for some warming cups of coffee and vital nibbles.

From there, we parted ways: Sue heading to the ‘Sail-away Party’ at the stern, and I to the Lord’s Tavern, where I caught up with Roy, one of our fellow diners, and watched Manchester United draw with Sunderland on the TV.

Back at the cabin, I changed into something more casual for dinner, and we joined Rob and Jan in the rear theatre for a second performance of the Cliff Richard tribute act. Sue had met him earlier in Al Fresco, where she learned that he was rather concerned that the recent accusations against Cliff might impact his act. Time will tell, I suppose.

Dinner was a jolly affair, filled with jokes and light-hearted banter. Afterwards, we accompanied Rob and Jan to the forward theatre for another performance, this time by the exceptional violinist/comedian from a few nights ago.

We’ll be anchoring early in Geiranger tomorrow and tendering off the ship, so we made a rare decision to hit the sack before midnight.