Day 7 - Kissing the Blarney Stone

Cheryl and I were not initially impressed by Cork. When we got here yesterday, the streets were dead. The people weren't nearly as helpful, accomodating or kind as those we've met up to this point. The nearest hostel was quite far from the bus station or even the city centre, on the "North Side" and the running bus times to the nearby sights don't run frequently enough. We also didn't have the best hostel experience...the girl staying in our room was kind of a biotch and we had a creepy man as one of our roommates, too. So weird.

In light of all this, we wanted to be sure we planned today with great care as to avoid having to be here in town much at all, let alone stay here another night as we had originally had as a tentative plan. But try as we might, we couldn't work out a plan that would allow us to stay somewhere else AND be convenient AND allow for us to leave at a reasonable time for Dublin tomorrow. So, we took a day trip to Blarney and cut out Kinsale. It was a tough choice, but I think we made a good decision.

The bus trip from Cork's city centre to Blarney is only about 20 minutes, and only costs 6 Euro. There's more to Blarney than just the castle and the Stone, like the gardens and the Wishing Steps, Blarney House, beautiful views and cute shops. But we headed straight for the castle.

The castle sits high on a small hill, looking out over rolling hills in the distance. The line up to the top of the castle (the equivalent of about 6 full flights of stairs, but actually a spiral staircase) was full! By that I mean, from ground to roof, stairs FULL of people. I expected to be there an hour or so just waiting in line, but I think we made it up in about 20-30 minutes, and I was pleasantly surprised at how quickly the line moved. There are little rooms in the castle to see along the way to help keep your interest as you wait, but everyone just wanted to get up top to see the stone!

Now, no one I know would describe me as someone who is afraid of heights. But climbing the narrow, rock spiral staircase with spaces in between to see how high up you actually are without much of a guard railing really gave me the tingles in my feet! I don't know why I get the tingles in my feet when I'm up high, but that's when I start to grab at everything around me to hold on and feel secured. The old man behind me was feeling the same feeling. I think if it wasn't weird we would have held each other's hands all the way to the Stone-kissing spot.

There is no roof to the castle, much like the other ruins of old castles, but there is a guard-walk up to which the stairs of the castle lead. When you get there, you are to prepare for kissing the Blarney Stone by removing anything that can fall off your person: glasses, money in your pockets, camera, purse, etc...beecause in order to kiss the stone, you have to sit down on the rock edge of the building, back facing out, and, bending backward, lean upside down over the edge and kiss the stone from there. There are two men there on post--one is to hold you so that you don't fall out, and the other's job is to snap your picture as you pucker up and lean out upside down to kiss the Stone. Cheryl and I first tipped the man who was to hold us in place ("Please don't drop us!"). Cheryl's turn was first and I took video, then she did the same for me...and we also purchased the professional photos taken of each of us. You should see the gift shop there...I reckon they make a killing.

After that we walked around the grounds a little, stopping briefly to take a picture of two siamese-looking trees (Sister Trees, Cheryl and I called them) -- they were connected by a large, arching root -- as well as the Fairy Glade (a shady garden), waterfall, Witch's Rock, Druid Cave, and Wishing Steps. All in all, Blarney was a cute place to visit. We hopped back on the bus, came back to a cafe in Cork and had our healthy, snack-size sandwiches we'd packed from a healthfood store earlier this morning. Now Cork was more hustle-bustle than last night and really cool looking! The shopping district/main city centre is quite nice, with boutiques and some nice retailers, restaurants both quaint and ritsy, and a busy crowd! Lots of college-aged kids and younger, some young adults but not many people older than that. I especially like the street fairs and performances (magicians, musicians, etc). I don't usually stop, but others crowd around, and I think this makes for a friendly feel to the streets! Cheryl wasn't smashed about the idea of shopping, and we instead agreed on seeing some of the city's history--I think we both wanted to give the city a second chance and let it impress us in some way. Plus, the shopping's probably better in Dublin...

The Firkin Crane (the home of Irish dance in Cork), the Butter Museum and the Shandon Craft Centre are clustered together and are right near our hostel, on the North Side of the city, all three holding pretty significant history to Cork and to Ireland. The Firkin Crane was once part of the Butter Factory, but burned to the ground in 1980. For about 10 years it remained idle, and finally reopened as a studio for dance and theatre. Types of dance taught and performed here are traditional Irish dance, ballet, Salsa, Tango, pilates, suspended aerial dancing (wow!), and many more. There are also twoperformance theatres inside. What's really cool is that if you want to just go in and rent space to teach a dance class there, you can! No employment there necessary! You just need to be able to pay for it... :)

We didn't go into the Butter Museum because, well....think about it. Does that sound fun? I don't think so, either...but, commercial butter-making is a very carefully controlled operation, and interesting. Now, Cheryl and I read the blurb on the wall, thanked the gentleman behind the desk and left almost immediately after walking in the door, but we did learn a few things. First of all, you'll be interested to know that butter was the first major export in Ireland--yes, even ahead of the potato! See the "butter" link to the Kerry Gold (Irish butter brand) website, which can tell you a bit more and show you a picture of the butter museum, less than a block from our hostel room in which I am sitting now!

Now we're back in the hostel after a long day and not much sleep last night! Cheryl's snoozing away, and I'm updating my pictures and brochures to keep things organized for when I get back home and start making a scrapbook! Can't wait! We actually got a room for just the two of us this time--no dorm room tonight and please, Mr. Front Desk Man, make it as close to the trunk room and street level as possible. Done! We call this a splurge -- 23 Euro apiece for a "private" room -- and giggle excitedly at reception as we handed over the $$$. Front Desk Guy seemed to get a kick out of our excitement for a 2-person room and the idea that we considered this a "splurge." At the end of your trip, after you've climbed 7 or 8 flights of stairs up to your room 3 or 4 times already and after days of hiking all around the cities and traveling for hours at a time, the idea of climbing up those stairs again with your bags and suitcases sounds just about as fun as....well I don't know....something worse than the Butter Museum. Our justification for this "splurge" is that the hostel in Galway cost the same for an 8-person room.

Before we leave Cork we have to do one more thing! Tonight we will go out for dinner and then a pint of Murphy's. Murphy's is a dry stout, sweeter and dryer than Guinness, having been brewed right here in County Cork according to the recipe from Murphy's Brewery since 1856.

...Well, dinner and drinks were great! After we ate at Quay Co-Op (for the 2nd time) we went over to An Spailpin Fanac (The Migrant Worker), located across the street from the Beamish Distillery and dating back to 1779. To try the difference between Murphy's and Beamish, Cheryl ordered the Beamish and I ordered the Murphy's. We shared a few sips, but I stuck with the dryer, sweeter Murphy's. Cheryl said Beamish was close to identical to the taste of Guinness, and preferred that one. We heard some great traditional Irish music which Cheryl told me they abbreviate to "trad" music, and had the bartender take our picture. He gave us the email address to which to send our picture (all pictures taken there are to be forwarded to this address) because they're revamping the website and will post them as soon as it's up and running! Yay!

(I KNOW MY BLOG POSTS SKIP RIGHT OVER DAY 6 - I JOTTED DOWN NOTES DURING THE DAY AND DIDN'T POST YET. BE SURE TO CHECK IT OUT AS SOON AS IT'S UP, THOUGH, BECAUSE DAY 6 WAS MY FAVORITE SO FAR!)

Day 4 & 5 - From Galway to Killarney

Day 4: Lazy Day...

For our last day in Galway we planned to go to the races, the biggest event of the year in Galway city. Because we were tired we decided to bag the races and chose instead to hang around in town one more day. We walked around and shopped a little, since we were finally able to find Vera Moda and I got a faux-leather jacket that's SO cute like the rest of the European girls walking around. And there's a purpose to the faux-leather, by the way--it's because it always RAINS here and real leather would get destroyed. That didn't stop me from wanting to buy a cute pair of Uggs I saw, but Cheryl was quick to intervene and not allow me to make that purchase. A smart move, considering they'd be ruined already because of the puddle-trekking we do every day. We worked our way down to NUI, so I got to see the campus where Cheryl spent her last month at school, and we walked for what seemed like miles, just talking about life and its highs and lows... We stopped at a little hippie shop with incense and funky jewelry, and had a blast in there. Cheryl got a beautiful dress that makes her look like a little Irish Tinkerbell. Then it was pouring and we ran back to our safe little Indian restaurant for one last dinner in Galway. Last order of business was to Skype mom and let her know we were alive and well, and we were interrupted by a couple of drunk young men looking for a good time at our expense. That's OK, we hung out for a while with them chatting about the USA and Ireland and Slim Shady!

Day 5 - Bus Trip to Killarney

Five hours on a bus to kick off our fifth day in Galway. We left early in the morning and took a trip down to Killarney, stopping at Limerick on the way, which a dirty, dilapidated crap hole, which is what everyone told us it would be. But, heeding not their warnings, we ventured into the crap. Even our cab driver who drove us back to the bus station remarked with distaste when we said we had come to see King John's Castle. He said, "you came to see Limerick?" No, we just have an hour to kill at this bus stop.

The castle was cool, though--especially the archeological digs still in the process. The coolest part was seeing the ruins dating back to the 1200's and the Sallyport, or "emergency exit" of sorts, which allowed the King to escape underground and down to the river if need be.

Around 2:15 PM we arrived in Killarney, and I was so relieved to see such a CUTE town!!! The little streets crowded with colorful buildings and shops of all sorts were a nice surprise when we had no idea what to expect. I didn't think anything else on our trip would measure up to Galway, but this was beautiful and attractive in a different way. Misty, green swells were the mountains in the distance and the backdrop to the proud, bustling town. Just outside of town is the entrance to the Killarney National Park, a 26,000-acre park with rolling hills and green mountains, fields, forest, garden and House, and a quaint little tea cottage that Cheryl and I visited before trekking to Ross Castle. Unfortunately we were too late to make any tour,but we were able to walk around the outside and take some GORGEOUS pictures. Note for next time: make it in time for the horseback-ride tour, or for a horse drawn carriage ride to the castle and around the paths of the park. This will ensure that you don't step in any of the shit they leave on the path, and will cut your time down significantly. I won't complain about the walk, though--we enjoyed every minute of our venture!

Back in the common room at the hotel, it was like College Week Spring Break or something--the average age of guests was about 20 years old with the behavior of 8 year olds! SOO loud and rowdy. Cheryl and I had a couple drinks but turned in early because we wanted to get an early start tomorrow. Tonight back at the room, we pleasantly surprised to see Canada Boy was our roommate, but then disturbed when we were trying to get to sleep because he was snoring like a bear! It was like a GROWWWLLLL. But, I must have fallen alseep anyway....

Day 3 - The Burren and Cliffs of Moher

...coming soon...I've written an entry for Day 3 and the remainder of Day 2 in my journal, and I will be sure to type it out and post it ASAP!

J

Day 2 - Galway

Day 2 - Galway
Yesterday when I arrived, all I wanted to do was go right to sleep! I had slept for only about 30 seconds to a minute before takeoff (I had the new DMB album plugged into my ears, the peaceful combination of violin and piano calmly lulling me to sleep) and then once again for about 10 minutes as we were descending in altitude down into Shannon. I was so emotional (tired and hungry) when I got off the plane that when I got onto the bus stop to find out that my Blackberry proof of an eTicket purchase wasn't good enough to earn me a spot on the bus, and I went back into the airport to find a printer only to find that there was no printer, I broke down in tears! I felt pretty pathetic, especially when the kind bus driver held up his bus at the stop to come in to the airport, find and fetch me, and allow me to ride the bus sans printed ticket. "I couldn't just leave you stranded here," he said as I followed him back to the bus, hiccupping my tears back and wiping them away, feeling 5 years old. After the beautiful ride through the suburban/rural tour between Shannon and Galway of neatly manicured properties and clean-cut (but not cookie-cutter) houses, twists and turns, thin little rock walls segregating one green lawn from the next, the bus driver kindly excused me from running the errand of going to an internet cafe and printing the eTicket for him. In fact, he offered the suggestion of going online and trying to get my money I paid back. Cheryl actually paid for it, and I don't think she'll do it because I was delivered safely and on-time, and so it was 12 Euro well-spent.

Our room as Kinlay House hostel wasn't going to be ready until 2:30 or 3:00 PM, and at my arrival time in Galway that wasn't for another 5 or 6 hours! We left our luggage in Andy and Kristina's room, I changed into a sweatshirt and jeans (it was a bit chilly in the morning!) and we headed out. I wanted to see so much, but my legs just wouldn't move fast enough. We stopped in an all-natural/orgranic cafe with vegan options and had tea and V Shepard's Pie! Then we wandered down and around Shop Street. It was Kristina and Andy's last day so we popped into a few souvenir shops so they could buy some last-minute gifts for family and boyfriends. I saw some stuff I knew I wanted for myself already, but told myself to wait until I'd been here at least 5 minutes before I start souvenir shopping!

There was one thing I knew I had to get at some point, though, that I had read about in my research of Ireland--a Claddagh ring: an Irish symbol of a heart being held by two hands, one on each side, with a crown above the heart, symbolizing love, loyalty and friendship (pardon if I reversed the order.) I love the meaning of this symbol. The one I bought for myself is not like the majority of the other Claddagh rings I saw in the Claddagh and jewelry shop. The Claddagh itself is in gold and its almond-shape enclosure and band is a thin bar of silver. Turned facing out on your right hand tells others that your heart is open (a nice way of saying "I have no boyfriend!") Turned facing inward on your right hand tells that your heart is spoken for. Turned facing out on the left hand means engagement; turned facing you on the left hand means you're married. After my purchase of a size 5 ring for my right hand, which I love because of its symbol, we walked around town a bit more, staying mostly on the main Shop Street, but also down by the water and on some side streets for a bit. I need to get a pair of shoes here...like, boots! Walking around, especially near the water, reminded me how SILLY I was to not pack heavier clothes for the cool evenings and mornings. Had I known it would be this cool, I would have been more prepared...Cheryl warned me of the cool weather in the mornings and evenings, but I assumed I could squeeze by with one pair of jeans, not 2 or 3 like I wish I'd brought! I wanted to believe it'd be a little warmer than Norway was at this time last year. I guess you can never be fully prepared for a trip unless you pack everything you own....and I guess that's how we all acquire our "Ocean City, NJ" and "San Francisco, CA" sweatshirts in our closet. We overpay for Hanes brand outerwear because we travel to these places thinking they'll be warmer than they actually are. Anyway...COOL! So I'll get some new clothes here.

We arrived back at the hostel (pronounced ho-STELL by Rory, the cute guy behind the desk) for a nap before our beds were ready. So, I crashed in Andy's....for 2 hours, and when I woke up I was still tired though I felt like I'd slept for a week! I had hoped everyone else was ready to eat when I awoke, and they were! So we headed back down towards the Spanish Arches area near the Claddagh ring/jewelry store and ate at a Middle-Eastern/Asian spot where Cheryl and I split Saag Aloo and Turka Daal. It was DELICIOUS! I had feared that this traditionally-meat-and-potatoes country wouldn't have much to offer its vegan visitors, but most of the menus I've read do clearly indicate in the menus when something is made with dairy; or have a vegetarian section. (I don't know about the high-end restaurants, because we're sticking to what I like to call "budget" places.) From there we went to the Craine Pub, where Andy and Cheryl drank pints of Guinness while Kristina and I drank our cider drinks (hers Apple', mine Pear.) SOOO GOOOD! The girls chose that spot because of the concert that would start at 9:30 and where they would meet their supposedly attractive male friend and his girlfriend, who the girls describe as "Swamp Creature." But, being sleep-deprived and now having both a nap and pint of cider in my body nearly had me unconcsious in my seat at the pub table, so Cheryl walked my sorry ass back to the hostel so I could sleep. I wanted to make it to the point where I could at least see this cute "Doc" and the girl who fit the description of Swamp Creature, but I just couldn't make it! On our walk back, Cheryl and I saw a street drumline group performing out on the main street in front of some shops, which had drawn a crowd so large right there in the street that you'd think it was Brangelina and their brood standing there at the storefront! We stopped to watch for a few minutes and I took some pics and video.....

10 Days in Ireland

Day 1 - Newark to Galway
It feels like it's been the LONGEST DAY, EVER!...probably because I've been awake for like 36 hours (with the exception of a few minutes of sleep on the plane and a brief nap this afternoon at the hostel.) After waking up early, doing ALL my packing, teaching Cubs, rushing through rainy day traffic and barely making it to my train in Princeton Junction, flying out, catching the bus and then spending the day walking around Galway, I feel like 3 days has gone by! No sufficient Blackberry charger here, which sucks because I spent about $100 on a charger at the airport to replace the one that a friend's careless friend lost last weekend, and it doesn't even fit into the adapter Cheryl has here! :( Must go get one...might look around for one tomorrow when we're out and about.

I debated on whether or not to bring my Blackberry. I toyed with the idea of leaving it at home and cutting off all contact because it's vacation, and I thought, shouldn't I take a vacation from all that stuff? I didn't want to be a traveler who takes the comforts of home with her because she can't cope with the reality of being "without her stuff"...but then I thought, that's not what this is about. I don't feel like I "need" to be doing something...but in this age of Facebook and Blackberry-Instant-Messager, I shouldn't have to feel the need to disconnect from all that. This is life now, and our PDA's and cell phones are just a part of us. Plus, it's a great tool for navigation and searching purposes--why buy a new map in every city and books and brochures on each and every place you go? Not to mention, it's a good tool for emergencies! ;)

Back in Oslo

Our trip has concluded--returning to Oslo was our final destination on this trip! And here we are. We've eaten our last bowl of Norwegian soup, drank our last overpriced drink, and are headed to bed for an early night so that we can be well-rested for tomorrow's trip home. We'll catch an early cab tomorrow morning to the airport, which takes about an hour, and catch an 11:30 a.m. flight which will land in Newark at around 2:00 p.m. EST.

There's no wireless internet service at this hotel (I'm using the community computer in the lobby) so I can't post any more pictures at this point. But trust me, there are hundreds. And many will be posted as soon as possible.

I've loved this trip but I am ready to go home. I'm so excited to be back home in my normal routine! I hope tomorrow's trip is easier and faster than the trip was 12 days ago to get here!

Off the Beaten Path

Bergen has been my favorite Norwegian city, with Stavanger at a close second. The people, the buildings, the cleanliness of the city itself, the nightlife, the food, the daily activities, the shopping, and most of all the scenery have been fabulous this entire vacation. Bergen was the perfect place to bring all those things together for a final four days in my new favorite city in the world.

It is 10:30 a.m. and our train has just departed from the Bergen train station. It is supposed to be one of the top 20 train rides in the world because of its scenic route across the center of the country back to Oslo. (Too bad I am slightly hung-over and will probably be sleeping or in a daze for the majority of the way.) We are headed back to Oslo and are expected to arrive in 6.5 hours, at which time we’ll check into our hotel and probably wander around the city for a while before sitting down to our last dinner in Norway. We’ve already decided that we’re going to eat at the same restaurant where we ate during our first 2 days in Oslo. It’s got the most delicious Norwegian fish soup, which is like a really exquisite version of American New England Clam Chowder. It’s so yummy and I can’t wait to have it again. This is a popular soup in Norway, and only last night did we eat the “real thing”—Bergen Fiskeballer (fish ball soup.) My dad has told us of Fiskeballer many times and we’ve been so eager to try the real thing in its place of origin, but until last night we’d been eating some other rendition of it—a similar cream-based soup with scallops, mussels, shrimp and even salmon—but the real Bergen Fish Soup contains ball-shaped pieces of Cod. Last night, in a tiny quaint restaurant in the row of old, wooden buildings on the brygge in Bergen, my dad ordered a cup of fish soup, and was pleasantly surprised to discover that it was, in fact, authentic Bergen Fiskeballer. We all ate a “ball” and it was delicious! We also ate about 8 pieces of bread each, dipping and wiping up the very last drops of it!

The shopping in Bergen was fun, too. Cheryl and I had been shopping in Stavanger, which was a bit more convenient because the shops were close to our hotel. In Bergen, the shops were quite a distance from both our hotel and the restaurant where we had to meet our family for dinner at 6:30 last night. At 6:00 we were headed over to the little shopping strip in hopes of finding something to wear to Metro, one of the young nightclubs in town. We picked up a few things, and I left a pair of pants there that I wanted, but Cheryl advised me that it was a financially irresponsible decision. I partly agree with her, and partly hate myself for not getting them when I had the chance! Most likely, they’ll have the same store in Oslo and I can track them down there. Otherwise, I’m going to order them online as soon as I get back to the States. They’re these satiny Princess Jasmine-looking pants with the cuffs at the ankles and everything. A lot of people here wear that style pant, and at first I didn’t like the look of it at all, but now I can’t help to think that maybe it would look cute! So I tried them on in the fitting room last night and they do look cute…with flip flops and a tank top, it’ll be an adorable look. I must have them!

After our dinner last night, Cheryl and I went back to the hotel room and packed our bags for our travels this morning, and then headed out to SjØboden (“Sea Place”) for a little pre-game nightclub experience. It was a little neighborhood-y place with locals dancing and live music. This building was probably 500 or 600 years old: its rafters were not very high above the heads of the musicians on the tiny wooden stage! ( Bergen is over 1000 years old, with some buildings we saw on the trip dating back to the 1100’s and earlier.) Picture a 3-man Irish band, singing and dancing and laughing and drinking beer up on stage in a tiny Irish Pub. Now swap the red hair for blonde hair, change the funny Irish accent into a funnier Norwegian accent, and switch the Guinness in the singer’s hand for a Hansa and that’s what this little band was like. Everyone in the bar was swinging their hips or tapping their feet, singing along to the 90’s American and folksy Norwegian music, and it was, to coin the term, a jolly good time. These men here seem to have no fear of rejection when it comes to dancing (or offering sex to me, for that matter—but that’s another story.) Arm outstretched, they’ll point to you and then curl their finger towards them in a gesture for you to join them where they are standing on the dance floor. As a shy American girl with two left feet in a foreign place, I originally was reluctant to join each man on the tiny dance floor for all to see, but I couldn’t very well turn someone down like that when it really did look like fun, so I got up there. Cheryl and I both had the experience of dancing with quite a wild animal of a man! He was heavy set and a jolly, chubby-faced man who could really work the dance floor! We were swung left and right, dipped down, and taken for quite a rollercoaster ride! After a few dances and beers, we decided to take these shakin’ booties elsewhere. That’s when we headed over to Metro. The music went from Norwegian folk music and old-school American singalongs to Flo Rida and Mary J. Blige. That’s when we got our grind on with the younger locals. We also met a girl, Lene, who sat and talked with us for close to an hour, probably, right there in the club on one of the little orange leather sofas, about Norway and America and the similarities and differences between the two such as the people’s attitudes, exchange rate, weather, and college life; we talked about Hilary versus Obama, boys, fashion, everything. She was adorable! We told her how much we love Norway, and she could hardly understand why. America seems glamorous to her, and Norway seems to be such a natural beauty to us. She visits California often, and we Facebook’d her after we’d gotten back to the hotel to make sure we stay in touch—“maybe our paths will cross again” is what Cheryl wrote to her.

During the day yesterday we rented bikes from a local bike shop and went on a ride around Bergen, to what seemed like the furthest stretches of the city. We rode by the university where Erika stopped to talk to some of the students and Dad went in to talk to some people about his leadership seminar in CEMS. We rode up and down hilly streets where I was about “this close” to flipping out because my crotch hurt form the bike seat and I was sweaty and very tired (also slightly hung-over again), and I kept getting separated from the group because they’re such speed racers and kept changing direction! It was actually quite fun, though. I love bike-riding and sightseeing and this combined the two and allowed us to cover more ground than just walking. We saw beautiful views of Bergen from different angles, and rode up little alleyways and through a beautiful park.

The day before, we took the funicular tram car to the top of the mountain in Bergen where there is a fabulous view of the city and surrounding towns, peninsulas, islands and fjords as far as the eye could see. That day we did more souvenir shopping and window shopping because things are SO expensive here. I found a beautiful black wool coat that I could just die for, but it was like $600 USD and that’s just ridiculous. But I felt like a movie star—no, a princess—in this coat. I bought a few small things for people at home, but not much for myself because just having been here and experiencing this beautiful country is souvenir enough—no trinket or tee shirt or coat could ever represent to me this wonderful vacation. I bought a Bergen magnet for myself, justifying my purchase because this was my favorite city and I just adored the little scenic town. My real souvenir will be the scrapbook that I make out of all the pictures, brochures, stickers and ticket stubs I’ve collected along the way.

The most fabulous part of staying in Bergen was the cruise to the fjords. The fjords are quite a distance from the city of Bergen itself, but it was from there that we departed for the cruise. I have seen the countryside, cities, coast and islands of Italy, the Grand Canyon, the East and West coasts of the United States; I’ve seen the mountains of Canada, the cities and countryside of England, France, the canals of Amsterdam, the Australian Outback, the Great Barrier Reef, and now much of the coast and largest cities in Norway, and I have yet to see something more spectacular than the Norwegian fjords. I have nothing to which to compare the fjords to describe their beauty, and I have pictures that won’t ever do them justice, but I have seen them with my own eyes and can say that I have truly seen a Wonder of the world. I want to come back some day, but next time add a visit to the Arctic Circle on June 21, my birthday and the Summer Solstice, the longest day of sunlight in the Northern Hemisphere, and sit and watch midnight come and go with the sun still up in the sky. I think that would be spectacular. Then I want to come back and see the Northern Lights in the winter.

Stavanger is the last city I need to write about in this post, because I think I wrote about Kristiansand last, and that came just before Stavanger. Kristiansand was not that great. I probably think so because of the events in the days before and after our visit there that it seems so disappointing. We wished after staying in Kristiansand that we’d stayed in Grimstad instead. Stavanger was my second favorite place we visited on this vacation. It was smaller than Bergen, but very similar. In fact, we made references to restauarants we wanted to back to or stores we wanted to revisit in Bergen that were actually back in Stavanger. We’ve been to so many places in these last 12 days that it’s hard to keep track of where we were and when! Stavanger is where the shops were near our hotel and they were awesome! The little wharf is similar to that in Bergen, but about 2/3 the size. I was sick the first day in Stavanger and missed the first day of sightseeing, which was the Geneology Museum (yawn.) I didn’t miss anything, anyway. We didn’t find anything about our relatives there. That afternoon we visited the old part of Stavanger with the tiny little houses and the narrow cobblestone streets. That’s where the picture of Cheryl and I in front of the yellow bush of flowers is from. “Are you f---ing kidding me?” was my response when I realized that basically all there was to see in that part of town were a couple of cute white houses! I was still feeling ill that day with the cold that has been passed around all 6 of us on this trip, and trekking around outside in the heat was the last thing I wanted to be doing. The watchtower was neat, though. The top was closed by the time we got there—that’s OK, we wanted to shop anyway—but we got to see some of the city. That’s when Cheryl and I went to H&M and Vera Moda for some retail therapy…