Today we arrived in Bergan. Still haven’t seen any fjords. Bryggen, the historical district that is the “must see” of Bergan is not near the port where we are docked. And it’s raining. Santo was not interested in going into town, but I felt I should at last take a look while I’m in Bergan. I won’t likely be here again.

         So I booked a ticket on a jump on-jump off bus for a tour around the city. I could see the highlights of the city in one one-hour loop. It was a long walk from the pier to the city street where the bus would pick me up. It was waiting when I got there, so I jumped on. A German woman I had interacted with on the ship got on ahead of me and I sat in front of her. It was fun being able to converse with her along the journey.

         Bergan is a lovey city of colorful wooden homes, not just the historic ones in Bryggen, but throughout the city. There was also an old fort, a historic wooden church, and lots of shopping. Sadly, many of the shops were the same international brands we had seen on Grafton Street in Dublin. The rain had not let up, so I decided to stay on the bus rather that get off at Bryggen as I thought I might. I later regretted this decision. Bryggen is renowned for the colorful wooden facades of the houses. But what makes it special is that it has preserved the original medieval arrangement of long, narrow rows of buildings separated by tiny wooden passageways. These could not be seen from the bus.

         Back on the ship, I took up my home spot in Carinthia to continue writing. I was passing on lunch to enjoy the 3:30 High Tea in the Queen’s Room.

         The Queens Room looked so different during the day: light and airy with white tablecloths on the small tea tables, set perfectly with China and silver place settings for four. All the tables were occupied, though many had empty seats. I would have to ask someone if I could join them. I scoped out the room: there was a gentlemen sitting alone, but I thought that would be weird. There were several tables with two women and two extra seats. I looked for friendly faces. Then I spotted a small older woman (perhaps seventy?) seated alone. She looked shy, and a bit dour, but something drew me to join her. As soon as I asked if I could join her, her face brightened with a warm smile and she waved her hand at the empty seats. “Yes, please,” she responded enthusiastically.

         I noticed her accent immediately and asked, “Sind Sie Deutsche?” Her face lit up again when she realized she would be able to converse in her native tongue. She was an extremely pleasant and welcoming person, and spoke slowly and simply, choosing her words to help me understand. After a few minutes, a younger woman, perhaps in her forties, breezed in in a rush, shedding her scarf and sweater as she sat down. She was an attractive blond, quite friendly and quickly joined our conversation. She spoke much faster than my original companion, and was seated further from me so I began to have trouble understanding and keeping up with the conversation. At precisely 3 pm, everyone in the room started rhythmically clapping. Then in walked a long row of white coated waiters carrying silver trays of tea. They spread out throughout the room and began serving. Then came the first course of small finger sandwiches. I took two and nibbled as I continued to strain to follow the conversation. Then to my surprise, who should show up to our table but Santo! He looked a bit out of place in his jeans and plaid shirt, and certainly surprised my companions. He arrived just in time for the service of scones with jam and coddled cream (delicious!). The scones were small but oh so tasty. Santo left as quickly as he came before the desserts were served, so I tried to jump back in to the German conversation. I had one small lemon tart for my dessert, finished my tea, and my first High Tea was complete.

         Dinner was again with Michael and Sabine, and our British ladies, Karen and Linda, had returned. They seemed a bit more talkative. Santo sat next to Karen and was able to draw her out a bit. He found out that she had lived in South Africa for forty-five years and had returned to England to be with her mother and sister. There’s more to Karen than meets the eye!

         Our after-dinner evening began at Carinthia where the duo we had liked from Friday was supposed to play. However, a different group showed up, four guys playing cool jazz. Quite enjoyable. It is amazing how we can just sit around, relax and talk, when we’re here. How can we replicate this at home? We are determined to try to spend some evenings at home just being together, sharing a drink, perhaps listening to some music. I know it will require me to set aside my “work” and disconnect in order to connect to Santo, and to my own center.

         Our next stop was the Commodore Club to listen to piano and get a glimpse of where we were headed from the bow. I was excited to see an empty table but as I approached realized that is was in front of a wall, not a window. The German couple sitting one table over reminded us that the curtains would be closing in a few minutes (at sunset) anyway, so we took the table. It’s still a lovely space. After the curtains close, they light the battery candles at each table with a remote and dim the other lights, which creates a lovely atmosphere. We are certainly getting used to all this pampering!