25th June 2022

The Ambience eased into her berth in the port of Reykjavik a little after 6 a.m. It was a glorious, sunny morning; thin, wispy clouds scudded high above grey mountains still dusted with the remnants of winter. It felt like the promise of a good day.

We had breakfast at 7 a.m. before strolling the decks, soaking in the scenery. Little had changed since our last visit just a few months ago. We were the only cruise ship in port, and the city off our starboard side appeared as bright and pristine as ever. Seaward, the grey-green landscape remained stark and unwelcoming, framed by a cold, rippled sea and an ice-blue sky. We were eager to head into the city once more and uncover more of its many charms.

A little after 8 a.m., we disembarked, dressed in fleeces, carrying rucksacks and cameras. We had opted to walk into town rather than take the shuttle bus; the route, we’d been told, was scenic and would take around half an hour. From the port, we followed the shoreline along a tarmac path shared by pedestrians, cyclists, and the latest form of human transport, the electric scooter. We scanned the bay in vain for the promised whales and dolphins.

Before long, we left the waterfront and began the climb towards the city’s iconic cathedral, its distinctive spire visible from horizon to horizon. Now and then, we dipped into the countless tourist shops, more to browse and ponder than to buy. By the time we reached our destination, the fleeces had come off, and sunglasses were firmly in place.

The plaza in front of the cathedral was alive with a mix of nationalities, all enjoying the sunshine. The large, heavy wooden doors remained shut, but as Sue read the English notice stating that they would open at 10 a.m., they did just that. We were first in the queue for the tower, and consequently, first into the lift to the top.

On my first visit to this island, accompanied by a group of rugby chums, we had visited the cathedral but had neglected to ascend the tower, something now happily remedied. The views from the top were exceptional, and we were lucky to have such a clear day; many are not. Thankfully, the large and imposing bells suspended overhead were not scheduled to ring until midday, being a Saturday. A few years ago, Jamie and I had a rather painful experience in a bell tower in Kyiv when the clock struck twelve!

Back at ground level, we were fortunate to be treated to an impromptu performance by a large American choir rehearsing for a concert that evening. Their singing was beautiful, pure and harmonious, without the slightest hint of a drawl or a ‘yahoo!’ We stayed long enough to hear three pieces from their repertoire. During the final number, I video-called Sarah back in the UK so she could share the moment.

Leaving the cathedral, we wandered into the pretty and colourful old town, photographing some of the more unusual buildings and soaking up its warmth and charm. Eventually, we reached the central lake, where we tried out the automatic toilet set within a small park, yet another bucket list experience ticked off!

Seated on a bench by the water, we watched families feeding the wildfowl with their breakfast leftovers, while we attempted to identify the various species scrabbling and squawking for scraps. Helpfully, the authorities had affixed a series of illustrated guides to the handrails for just such a diversion. We successfully managed to ‘clock’ every duck and gull on display;  the ‘twitchers’ back on board would have been proud.

After circumnavigating the lake, we took in the large model of the island housed within City Hall, before plunging once more into the surrounding maze of streets, finding benches in parks to rest on and interesting shops to browse through. We made our way back to the ship via the harbourfront’s striking ‘glassy’ library, a building once blamed for nearly bankrupting the city.

By now, my right knee had begun to complain, and the return walk to the ship involved a certain amount of discomfort, though this miraculously vanished the moment we sat down for a very late lunch. I can only assume I’d run out of calories in my right leg!

We spent the remainder of the afternoon relaxing in the warmth of the sun at the stern of the ship until our northern latitude gradually stole the radiated heat away. Eventually, we retreated indoors for coffee and air conditioning.

As we left port later that evening, a strong headwind presented the captain with some difficulty in making headway. During dinner, it almost felt as though we were at anchor. Even during showtime, when we were entertained by a virtual Anton Du Beke and the ship’s dance team, the waves seen through the portholes barely crept past. On the plus side, the lack of motion made for a wonderfully smooth crossing and a particularly deep sleep.

So deep that during one vivid dream, I sat bolt upright and banged my head on the folded bunk above, an abrupt awakening that had me stumbling to the bathroom in search of tissue to dab away the resulting blood. Ouch!

26th June 2022: Sea Day

Although we were late for breakfast, the restaurant was almost empty; perhaps yesterday’s activities and tours had worn most people out, and they had chosen to skip the meal. The ship is only about half full, with around 850 passengers, and so far, the only queue we’ve encountered was for the obligatory photograph while shaking hands with the captain.

COVID-19 may still be affecting the number of people willing to cruise, but on board, the atmosphere feels relatively relaxed. All crew and staff continue to wear masks, but very few passengers do. Mask-wearing is recommended in the theatre, though this advice is largely ignored. It was much the same in Reykjavík; sightings of masks on the streets were rare, yet in shops and museums, the staff almost invariably wore them.

Today was another round of lectures, quizzes, and healthy walks around the decks. The sea has remained relatively calm, and although we took the binoculars with us on each circumnavigation, there was no sign of sea life spouting or leaping from the waves, just the usual terns skimming across the surface, ever on the lookout to snatch an unwary fish.

There is always a steady gaggle of would-be naturalists clustered near the bow of the ship, resplendent with military-grade binoculars and howitzer-sized cameras. They are happy to engage in conversation, provided the topic remains firmly fixed on orcas, something Sue regularly exploits to her advantage. White-topped, rolling waves can often look uncannily like a Minke whale… especially if you want them to.

Tonight’s entertainment was Andy Abraham, a fine soul singer from the X Factor stable, who represented the UK at Eurovision in 2008. He has certainly come a long way from his days as a dustman and bus driver.