Prayer for the Feast Day of Saint Cuthbert
From today’s Lectionary readings:
Merciful God, who called Cuthbert from following the flock to be a shepherd of your people: Mercifully grant that we also may go without fear to dangerous and remote places, to seek the indifferent and the lost; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
Of Little or No Interest to Most People
I began this blog in 2006, living in Kuwait. Kuwait was resource-rich for blogging; lots of bloggers, all kinds of interests; as a new resident in Kuwait, it gave me a portal into a new world, a new way of seeing things, and a way to meet wonderful people I might otherwise have never encountered. Kuwait was also rich in ex-pats, people from all over the world came to Kuwait to work, to send money home to their families, to create a better life. Many of those stories are in previous entries.
One story in particular still makes me laugh. I was at a dinner party at the British Embassy, seated next to a Nigerian woman. “So how did you come to live in Kuwait?” I asked, as I always do, because the answers are always so varied and unexpected.
She said she came to work with her husband. She leaned in and said in a low voice “I look deep inside you and tell you things you never knew about yourself.”
I’m pretty good at keeping a polite face, but I think I slipped a little then as I looked at this very respectable woman and thought “Witchcraft??” “Psychologist?” And she laughed, and said “I’m a radiologist.” We became good friends. I loved her sense of humor and her love of life.
There was a lot to write about, so many things that were new and unusual and often lovely. Before I left Kuwait, my blog had more than a million hits. Before I left Doha, I had more than two million. That was 16 years ago, and blogging has diminished, I no longer live such an exotic and interesting life and I have less time to write. The blog has struggled on.
This morning, I noticed I am about to hit 2,900,000 hits. Maybe this week. That’s fun for me. And it makes me wonder if I will live long enough, write long enough, to hit 3 million.
Rabbit Holes: Paul Samuelson, John Steinbeck and Anu Garg
It’s a rainy day in Pensacola, and Florida needs rain. The reservoirs are depleted, and a drought has been declared. As I go through my e-mail, I come to Anu Garg’s A Word a Day post. (Today’s word is “incubus”). I subscribed to his daily e-mail many years ago as I studied teaching English as an additional language.
Anu Garg is profound. He chooses wonderful words, words my foreign students adored. He also includes a quote at the end of each post. Today’s quote was from John Steinbeck.
A THOUGHT FOR TODAY:
The things we admire in men, kindness and generosity, openness, honesty, understanding and feeling are the concomitants of failure in our system. And those traits we detest, sharpness, greed, acquisitiveness, meanness, egotism and self-interest are the traits of success. And while men admire the quality of the first they love the produce of the second. -John Steinbeck, novelist, Nobel laureate (27 Feb 1902-1968)
And it just so happens that this coming month, my book club is looking at three Steinbeck novels; Tortilla Flats, Cannery Row, and The Moon is Down.
One thing leads to another. Tortilla Flats takes place on a hill above Monterey, California, where paisanos live.
Of all the places I’ve lived, I have never loved a place the way I love Monterey, California. We lived on a hill above Monterey, above the old Del Monte Hotel, now the Naval Postgraduate School. The location sounds very suspiciously a lot like Tortilla Flats. The book bring back so many wonderful memories, particularly lying in bed at night and hearing the sounds of the sea lions barking down on the rocks, the gulls screeching, and the fog horn warning – we had a lot of fog.
And I remember Paul Samuelson, the author of the Economics textbook I used for an introductory economics class I took my freshman year in college. I never intended to like economics, but I found Samuelson readable – and even riveting. I remember one quote from his text: “Man does not always starve quietly” which had to do with his theories on economic development. Within that chapter, he also explains comparative economic deprivation.
This was a long time ago, so I am paraphrasing what I remember, and I might be getting it wrong. Samuelson talked about how once the most basic needs are met in a developing country, food, housing, clothing, jobs – you’d think everybody would be happy, but once people can stop scrabbling to survive, once they are stable, they start looking around and see someone who has more – and this is relative deprivation. The see someone with something they didn’t know they needed, and now they need this, too, to be happy.
So how does this relate to Steinbeck, and La Mesa Village, and Paul Samuelson?
My husband and I and our brand new little baby were leaving one military school and headed for schools in Monterey when he got a call from military housing in Monterey. It was such a nice, positive call when it started out, telling my husband about the lovely house we were to have with three bedrooms and a fireplace in La Mesa Village, and went on to give information about measurements and furniture and we were joyfully amazed. Our military housing had never been so fine, nor had any housing office called us and treated us so respectfully.
And suddenly everything changed. “Oh wait,” she said. “You’re not Navy?”
“No,” replied my husband, “I’m in the Army.”
“You’re not a Navy Captain?” she confirmed.
(silence as we looked in horror at one another)
“No,” my husband said shortly, the way you respond when a short-lived dream-come-true has just died.
“Oh. Well you’ll be in normal student housing then. Sir,” she added, respectfully, but all the pleasantness was gone.
And that’s where my friend Paul Samuelson, the first Economist in the United States to be awarded the Nobel Prize (1970) comes in. How much do you remember from your college classes? As we accepted our student housing – not a beautiful 3 bedroom house with a fireplace, but a flat in a quad with two bedrooms and linoleom floors (no fireplace) I remembered the concept of relative deprivation. I had a roof over my head in Monterey, California, heaven on earth. I had a baby and good child care and great grocery stores; I attended the Naval Postgraduate School and the Defense Language School. On weekends, we hiked at Point Lobos, and we were happy. Happy, except for that occasional twinge of jealousy when we passed the houses higher on the hill with three bedrooms and a fireplace.
And when I felt that twinge, I smiled and thought of Paul Samuelson.
AdventureMan’s Quest
Our marriage is cross-cultural. I am of the North, my husband is Southern. I learned to make decent cornbread, thanks to his grandmother who shared the secret of the cast-iron skillet, but I never mastered biscuits.
When he retired, AdventureMan went on a quest to make the perfect Southern Biscuit. He researched recipes. He tried recipes. He found an almost perfect recipe and worked with it, tweaking an ingredient here, an amount there. One day, with great glee, he made the perfect biscuit.
Part of the secret, once again, is a cast-iron frying pan.
The biggest part of the secret is butter. Lots of butter.
He was up early this morning, making biscuits for the family. The biscuits have buttery crusted bottom, and they melt in your mouth. One batch is enough for each of us to have one, and the rest we share with our family, nearby.
He texts our son that he just made biscuits, asks if they want some. Within seconds, the response comes “YES, please!”
It’s not just biscuits! For Valentine’s Day, it was Pasta Carbonara. For Thanksgiving, it was Smoked Salmon Fettuccine. He is skilled with duck, and sauces, and with steak. He has found his Secret Superpower, and he is a happy man.
Oath of Citizenship: Joyful Celebration
It’s not often a courtroom is packed with joyful people. And only for this one significant celebration are cameras allowed – even encouraged – in the courtroom. The difference in atmosphere is palpable.
Yesterday, 33 people from a variety of nations took their oath to be responsible American citizens. There were moments when their was no sound, no noise at all, in the courtroom; the silence was a salute to the importance of the event, and respect for the moment.
Judge Collier managed to be both solemn and celebratory, lauding the diversity of the group and the importance of their choice to be US citizens. He, and other, congratulated the applicants for “earning” their citizenship by learning our history, customs and language, and appreciating it’s rewards even more than those of us who are citizens by birth and heritage.
David Stafford, our long time Supervisor of Elections, now the right-hand man to Pensacola’s Mayor Reeves, gave a moving and motivating speech about the gift of citizenship, its rewards, and the great responsibility each citizen has to sign up to vote – and to vote.
My friends, you receive my frustrated rants and my frequent musings. Today, I share with you a day full of pure joy. A packed courtroom, for all the right reasons; official speeches, short, pithy, and full of positivity and possibilities, and people who fully believe in the Rule of Law, Equality, Diversity as a strength, and the great inclusionary current of neighborly brotherhood that connects people in the United States of America.
Oh! The People You’ll Meet! (Apologies to Dr. Seuss)
Under the category of Stranger in a Strange Land, things change. My generation revolted (and were sometimes revolting) and rioted and demonstrated against the VietNam War and for Equality, Diversity and Inclusion. We marched. We made documentaries. Oh, we were so idealistic.
AdventureMan, my husband, was a warrior from the beginning, and fought in that unpopular war. When he returned home, people were harassing returning soldiers, even spitting on them.
Emotions have calmed through the years, and many surviving fighters in that war, men and women, have had a tough time dealing with their participation in the war. We often see homeless veterans here in Pensacola; the homeless find Pensacola comfortable, and temperate. You can sleep rough most of the year.
My husband keeps his eye open for fellow vets. When he sees someone with a VietNam vet bumper sticker, or wearing a VietNam Vet bill cap, he’ll go over, shake hands, and swap old war stories. It can be a very moving moment for both parties involved. War-fighting is intense. There are things you don’t forget. There are things you do forget, and years later, they come back in dreams, not good dreams.
And there are also fraudsters out there. Some are well-meaning, well enough, or just oblivious. Some are trying to fake an experience they didn’t have.
We had a homeless man here in Pensacola we helped occasionally. When he told us he had also been in the military, AdventureMan started talking with him and soon started looking very confused. “He’s never been anywhere near being in the military,” he told me, “No one in the military forgets where they did their basic training or can’t remember where they were stationed.” Nothing makes a person mad like someone straight out lying.
Other times, it isn’t so manipulative, it is just ignorant. In the local Apple Market, AdventureMan shook a man’s hand and asked where he’d been in VietNam and the man just looked foolish and said, “It isn’t really my hat, a friend gave it to me.”
More recently, out at Peg Leg Pete’s on the beach, as we were leaving, AdventureMan stopped to talk with a man wearing a 7th Cav hat. But no, he had never been in the 7th Cav; he had been in the Navy, and he was a Cowboy Re-Enactor. He also looked sheepish.
People are tribal. The like association. Kids wear Nikes because they want to play basketball like Michael Jordan. Some people wear Florida State hats because they hope Florida State wins the big game, not because they have ever set foot on the Florida State campus. Or Hawaiaan shirts, or turquoise squash blossom jewelry, or Yosemite sweatshirts (me), because of the association. It’s just the way we are, expressing ourselves with tribes, aspirational or not.
It’s a bad idea to give an impression, knowingly, which may be easily discovered to be false. I had a friend once who found an old sorority pin in a thrift store and wore it as costume jewelry. I told her it was a bad idea, that sororities inspire deep loyalties, and wearing a pin to a sorority that you don’t belong to could damage your reputation. I think she chose to wear it ironically.
Living in Doha, where designer copies were cheap and plentiful, one of my Japanese friends told me that she would NEVER buy a copy; that people who know what details to look for would know you were a pretender. Once you got that reputation, you would always be known as a person who couldn’t afford the real thing. I listened and learned!
AdventureMan says, “Be careful what you wear because of the message that it sends. If you didn’t earn it, don’t wear it.” His Dad was a SeaBee, but he would never wear his Dad’s insignia. People may not be trying to fool people, but people will see what you are wearing and make assumptions.
The majority of people wearing military memorabilia actually have a legitimate connection to that unit, and greeting them results in truly wonderful moments of sharing and camaraderie.
Also – if you believe no women were serving in VietNam, you need to read Kristin Hannah’s book, The Women. Women served as nurses, medics and doctors, as Red Cross workers, and in administrative roles. Although not in combat, they served their country and were shot at, wounded, killed, hit by explosives, died in helicopter evacuations. They suffered PTSD and were treated as poorly as the other wounded vets that came out of that war.
British Isles: Farewell to Bergen, Jupiter and Good Friends
The alarm goes off too early, the bags outside our door are gone and we quickly dress and head to the lounge for departure. It is raining! This is the only real rain we saw the entire trip, and our guide says “Welcome to the REAL Bergen!” We had the special-day sunny Bergen for our previous day, and were doubly thankful for it.
Our route back takes us to Copenhagen, then Atlanta, then Pensacola, and all flights departed and arrived as scheduled. The flight out of Bergen, however, was hilarious. There were 32 rows on the flight. The first 18 rows were Business Class. The last 14 rows were economy. They were labeled. They looked exactly the same. Business class boarded and debarked through the front. Economy boarded and debarked through the rear of the plane. I’ve never seen this before!
I would have liked more time in Copenhagen, but it was a rush through the facial recognition machines, a rush to customs and baggage searches, and a walk to our gate, where we were soon boarded.
The SAS flight into Atlanta was delightful. Good movies, a little off the beaten track, and good meals. We had cheerful, polite service with a genuine feeling of goodwill.
It’s good to be home, to have our family and sweet kitties all together. And our brains are scrambled. There are so many cities, my brain can’t always keep it straight. I keep confusing the Orkney Island experiences with the Shetland experiences, and confuse the capitals as well. I am thankful I kept the journal, but even the journal is confused from time to time. And the missing photos jarred my thinking, and my confidence.
Thank you to my life long partner, AdventureMan, in adventure and marriage, for sharing these great times, for reading and correcting my mistakes and for contributing so many great photos of Scara Brae to fill in where I had deleted my photos. And thank you, readers, for going along on this great long cruise with us and being patient with my endless photos.
British Isles: Great Fun in Edinburgh
Early rising today as we are in Group 2 and meeting up at 7:45 am in the Star theatre to tender in to port to catch our bus. Whew! We had a quick breakfast – I am back to oatmeal now that the novelty of so much variety has worn off. We pack up our quiet boxes (it looks like hearing aids, but it allows the guide to speak to us as we are walking along without broadcasting to the world), our windbreakers, our phones, cameras and make sure we have everything we need.
They call our group quickly after group one (Group one is going to play golf at Saint Andrew’s; we are going on the panoramic tour of Edinburgh which is riding around in the bus about one hour looking at important things, then walking up the King’s Mile to the Edinburgh Castle. It is August, the month of the Tattoo, and the Castle has huge grandstands set up for people to come and watch this historical ceremony.
It is also the month of several festivals, so we are glad our bus is first out and full of people who are on time and board quickly. We have the streets to ourselves, shared only with the children and their backpacks headed to school. But look at the skies – so grimy! I try not to think about particulates and to breathe shallowly.
The tour shows us all kinds of buildings – housing for rich and poor, schools, different architectural styles, different kinds of stone and decorations, statues of important men and homes of some of Edinburgh’s famous men. Edinburgh, and Saint Patrick’s Cathedral in Dublin, give of thick Game of Thrones vibes to me. We park and hike up the hill to the castle, and the King’s Mile, where we are on our own for an hour and the crowds begin arriving.
Below are the grandstands built to seat audiences for the Grand Tattoo. It gives me shivers and chills just to imagine sitting there.
You can see the same grandstands behind us.
We make a quick stop at the Castle Arms Pub, where they very kindly allow us to use their facilities, then we hike up to the castle, and down the King’s Mile. Then back up the King’s Mile, and we still have 15 minutes to spare so we head back to the Castle Arms Pub to have a coffee and an IRN-BRU (special Scottish soft drink) to thank them for allowing us to stop earlier. Our guide picks us up on the way back down the hill, and everyone going back to the boat is on time, again. We love traveling with Viking people.
When we get back to the port, we decide to explore a little before heading back to the ship, so we look for the grocery store the guide has told us about to see a little of how the real Scots live, or at least where they shop. It is an Asda grocery, but once inside, it sure has the feel of a Walmart, with signs about price rollbacks and arrows, clothing racks and foods – its a supermarket, not unlike you would find in France or Spain or Pensacola. The goods are goods like we would buy in Pensacola. We just see one thing we know is genuinely Scottish:
When we get back to port, we board the tender and are back on the ship very shortly. It’s been another great day on this trip, bright sunshine, warm but temperate weather, zero complaints.
We both chose lunch from the noodle shop, broccoli and stir fried shrimp and mushrooms for both. And dessert, of course. Blueberry sorbet, and it is wonderful.
We need a trip to the Nordic Spa, the bubbly hot wave pool down on the first deck, with a snow room, a steam room and lovely serene changing rooms with saunas. Sheer bliss.
We have unruly neighbors. This afternoon we hears thumps and screams amidst the shouting and arguing and finally AdventureMan called security and asked them to make a call to check on their well-being. It stopped for a while. It’s started up again.
We see the name Lothian on buses and small stores. AdventureMan tells me Lothian is the name of the lowland region that includes Edinburgh, lying between the southern shore of the Firth of Forth and the Lammermuir Hills and the Moorfoot Hills. So you take the high road and I’ll take the low road . . . . Firth is a cognate of fjord, a Norse word meaning a narrow inlet. Thank you, AdventureMan. Now we are leaving Edinburgh.
We would come back to Edinburgh again. There is so much history here we just skimmed over. The Romans. Hadrian’s Wall. We need to come back.
We’ve finished dinner, but we haven’t finished chatting, and there is a big block of something (?) floating off starboard side and people start rushing over to take a picture of the “iceberg.”
I have no idea what it really was, but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t an iceburg.
Sunset en route to Aberdeen
I haven’t said much about shopping. It’s because I haven’t shopped much. Our great quest on arrival in London was to find good cheese and good wine to have in our cabin. It thrills us to sit out on our balcony with good cheese and a nice glass of wine as we sail away.
Most of the trips we take are busy. These cruises are what you make of them. Some people are really laid back and mostly are on the trip for the cruise experience; they love the shows and on-board games and entertainment (there are better cruise lines for that.) One group on this trip is about golf, and another group is about visiting gardens, and they meet up at night and have great conversations, regaling one another with discoveries and anecdotes. Some love visiting wineries and distilleries at every port. My husband and I are mostly into history, early history for me, military history for my husband. We have lists of what we want to see and scurry to hit our priorities. It can be exhausting – and exhilarating. Shopping, however, gets tucked in where it can.
I found some cool Christmas gifts at the Canturbury Cathedral. I bought chocolate with Irish whiskey and a Celtic coffee mug in Dublin, more chocolate in Wales, and a tin of tea with a dragon on it! That’s about it so far. Some people came back from Edinburgh laden with shopping bags. Most of their shopping was gorgeous woolens, but I have woolens, and I live in Pensacola, Florida, where woolens are mostly irrelevant (and too itchy for me.) So we’re really not spending much. We ARE having a terrific time.
I wish we had another day at sea before Aberdeen; I need time to integrate all these new sights and ideas. No such luck! On one cruise, with several sea days, a friend of the ship’s captain told us that days-at-sea were a hardship for the ship’s crew, that the one thing that can cause big trouble is bored passengers. I can imagine! And I am a woman who needs time to ponder and to integrate!
British Isles: Kirkwall, Scara Brae – The Best Day of Our Trip?
We think this day was the best day of our trip. We think every day of this trip has been stellar, above expectations, because we expected both heat and rain, and have had neither. We have had glorious days and breathtaking experiences, and today was the best of the best.
Thank you, AdventureMan, for helping me out with photos. I wish I had more.
We wanted to see two major geographical locations coming to Kirkwall, and we got to see them, and more.
One was Scapa Flow, a huge inland harbor, one of the largest inland harbors in the world. Vikings used it as a natural harbor for centuries. The British kept a fleet there in WWI, and the Germans scuttled their ships there after WWI rather than surrender the ships to the British.
A German U-boat came in after 1939 and sunk the Royal Oak, a British battleship, and over 800 people perished. Among them were 16 year old boys working on the ships with the Navy, causing such outrage in Britain that they no longer recruited 16 year olds.
For the British, the Scapa Flow is a memorial on the level of Pearl Harbor for the Americans. It’s a protected area.
Continuing on, we were able to see the Stone Circles of Brodgar and Stromness, These huge circles of stone pre-date Stonehenge by centuries.
And then we reach our goal, Scara Brae.
Scara Brae was discovered by accident when a huge storm uncovered stone dwellings buried by sand and soil, which were beginning to erode away. The dwellings are over 5,000 years old, created to shelter from wind and cold, to store goods, and to house families. There are areas created for food preparation, food storage and cooking, areas for sleeping, and a special area for crafting items like pottery and tools to make life easier.
Many people today think we are smarter than earlier man, but when I look at the smart things these people created to make their lives livable, I believe they were every bit as smart as we are, and in some ways, smarter.
Look how closely these stones fit together to keep the earth out of their houses, fitted without mortar. Our archaeologist guide tells us there is no way to date a stone wall like this, that the inhabitants of the Orkneys build their walls the same way to this day, only now they also use mortar. Traditionally, they will put pointy flat stones on top, vertically, to discourage sheep and cattle from trying to get in (or out). In the museum there are artifacts – combs, needles, tools – which help date the findings.
It is a beautiful location, by the sea. It was a thrilling visit.
”Graham Watt, the 7th Laird of Breckness, who unearthed the world famous neolithic of Skara Brae in 1850 put in a seawall to forestall further erosion and archaeological experts have excavated several of the houses, although more exist still underground.” (I believe this quote came from a Scara Brae booklet, but I am not sure. 🤔)
On the way back, our bus drives slowly by a series of Neolithic marvels, the Stones of Stenness, the Ring of Brodgar and the tomb at Maeshowe. The bus isn’t allowed to stop because separate bus tours go to those sites (bureaucracy is international!)
(For a lot of fun, read Ann Cleeves newest book in the Shetland/Orkneys Inspector Perez series, The Killing Stones. It is better if you read all the Ann Cleeves Shetland series first, but I read this as a standalone and then started reading the Shetland series, and it worked just fine. )
“The Stones of Stenness are part of one of Europe’s richest archeological landscapes—the legacy of a Neolithic society that flourished between 3800 and 2200 B.C., after the introduction of agriculture but before the advent of metal tools. A mile to the northwest, on higher ground, is another mesmerizing assemblage of megaliths in open space: the Ring of Brodgar, a stone circle some three hundred and forty feet in diameter. To the east is the tomb at Maeshowe, where, beneath a grass-covered mound, Stenness-size slabs anchor a thirteen-foot-high chamber with a corbelled roof. Like Stonehenge and other Late Stone Age sites, Maeshowe has a solar alignment: on the midwinter solstice, the setting sun shines down the entrance passage. Together, these monuments, which are part of a UNESCO World Heritage complex called the Heart of Neolithic Orkney, seem to constitute a minimalist holy land.” (Another regrettably unsourced quote.)
Back in Kirkwall, we decided to have lunch and return to the boat later. We found an Italian restaurant and feasted on Caprese Salad; AdventureMan had a specialty Seafood pasta and I had Spaghetti Aglio Oglio. After lunch, we visited St. Magnus Cathedral, one of the oldest churches in the British Isles. There was a community flower show/competition – the sort of event I love. Groups and individuals created lavish floral displays around the church and won prizes for the best in several categories. It was magnificent and the cathedral was full of people! Then, to celebrate, we had ice cream at the famous Daily Scoop.
Kirkwall is a place to which we would happily return. There is so much more to see and learn.
If you think I am amazing because I remember all these details, you will be happy to know that I have forgotten much, but that I kept a daily journal that reminds me of the details of our daily life on board the ship and at our destinations. Honestly, now we have trouble remembering which day we were in which city.
We tendered back to the ship and enjoyed a deeply satisfying nap before meeting up with our friends for dinner.
The food on board Viking Jupiter is fantastic. It’s a great life, being a grown-up, having options. One night we can focus on salads and seafood, another night on soups or Chinese specialties, another night on roasted salmon and sides – we can choose what we want to eat, and we can choose how much. Viking makes little tiny desserts, maybe a quarter cup of chocolate mousse with a meringue star on top, or one small scoop of ice cream – or two very large scoops with toppings, whatever is your pleasure.
When we get back to our room, it is newly cleaned, every night, with fresh towels and clean sheets, all set up for a good night’s sleep.
It’s not like we live like this at home. We cook, we clean, we keep up the yard, we repair the house, we handle our grown-up responsibilities. For just this short time, it is so wonderful to be taken care of.
I have to give full credit to my husband for most of the Scara Brae photos. I also take full responsibility for the fact that there is a jumble of Scara Brae photos in the middle of this post in no order. Somehow they all got grouped and I can’t figure out how to ungroup them. I used to laugh at my elders who struggled with technology, and now karma is biting me in the butt, and once again I am humbled.
British Isles: Ullapool and What Day is This?
Our day started slowly, thank goodness. We are still sailing from Belfast to Ullapool, and we don’t expect to land until 1:00. Later we figure it out – at this time of year, there can be huge morning fogs. Most of the time it starts burning off around late morning. You can’t see much through the thick fog.
Some people are sleeping in, some are doing laundry. We have breakfast with our friends, then we hit the spa. We are ready to kick back. We are having a lot of fun, enjoying all the activity, and the truth is also – we are aging. We need to rest. I need time to process and integrate all the new sights I am seeing and cultural differences I am experiencing.
We are excited about our tour today, The Scenic Assynt. We tendered in, and boarded our bus. It got off to a surprising start. We were all aboard and the bus started. Two minutes into the trip, the air conditioning went off and the bus became stuffy very quickly. Formerly civil Viking tourists became rude, and shouted that we needed AC, but I think the driver needed the extra power to attack the hill heading out of the port. The bus rumbled and shuddered, and the guide was doing her best to soothe the savage beasts but was also on her phone to headquarters trying to get a back up bus and there wasn’t any.
It got better. The AC came back on, and we stopped at a geological reserve.
Here is where I have to make a sad confession. This reserve was wonderful. It had special stations to demonstrate how very old rock had extruded and somehow become above the much younger rock.
When I uploaded my photos, of this trip into the Assynt, and the next trip, in the Orkneys, I somehow didn’t save them to the desktop, and carefully deleted them from my camera and card.
Fortunately AdventureMan took some photos, and I had some on my phone, but sadly, the trips were both wonderful and I can’t show you how greatly wonderful they were. I am so sorry.
We also stopped by the ruins of an old castle en route to the small fishing village of Lochinver, very beautiful, very small, and I took a walk in the opposite direction of the others, and it was so QUIET.
One thing you don’t get on a cruise ship is a lot of quiet. Viking ships are quieter than most, but you get 900 people together, there’s going to be some noise. For the first time ever, we have a loudly quarreling, quarrelsome couple on one side of us. Fortunately, it is sporadic, not all the time.
With the fog rolling in to this small fishing village of Lochinver, it was so silent. It wasn’t even muffled, it was silent. My ears were ringing with the silence! I loved it!
I rely on my photos to tell the story, and without them, I can’t remember all that I saw. What I do remember is the warmth with which we were greeted at Ullapool, in the Scottish Highlands, that they truly made us feel appreciated. I remember thinking I would love to come back to Ullapool, so small, so isolated, with so few tourists. There were families, and hikers and people from many nations, but not the thousands that come in on the ships. We were the only ship in port this day.
Much of the time is foggy in Ullapool, in August, and then there are times when the fog burns off. Then the fog comes back again, and then, just as the sun is setting, it might break through.
We have reservations this night at Manfredi’s, the ship’s Italian specialty restaurant, and are shown to a quiet table by the window in the back of the restaurant. We love it. Our waiters are kind and funny, and help us make great choices for dinner.
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