Woke up this morning docked in Alesund. Alesund is really three islands which together create a small city. Bridges connect the islands. Even from our balcony you can see the Art Nouveau architecture Alesund is known for.

In 1904, almost the entire city of Alesund burned to the ground. At the time, Kaiser Wilhelm II of Germany was in union with Oscar II, who was king of both Sweden and Norway. Wilhelm was a great admirer of Norway and often vacationed there. When he heard of the disaster in Alesund, he immediately sent humanitarian aid. To this day the Kaiser is beloved in Alesund. When Alesund went to rebuild, they made an ordinance that all new construction must be in brick or stone. Kaiser Wilhelm himself was a great fan of Art Nouveau architecture (called Jugendstil in Germany and Norway) and several Norwegian architects who would design the new Alesund were trained in Germany. Therefore, almost the entire city is in the Art Nouveau style. It looks very different from other cities in Norway, even the much larger Bergen.

The buildings of Alesund are generally three to five stories tall and in paler shades than Bergan. We could see building after building in muted creams, yellows, greens, blues and terra-cotta. The façades have pointed towers and turrets with steep peaks, little spires, and elaborate gables. Many are ornamented with flowers, leaves, animals, and Viking-inspired figures. The whole thing has a slightly fairy-tale quality. I looked forward to visiting the city later in the morning.

I made a stop at the purser’s office to get a map of Alesund before heading to Carinthia for a light breakfast. Over my cappuccino, I mapped out the route I would take from the dock to the Alesund Museum and from there to the restaurant Emmy had recommended. The museum was set to open at 11 am, so at 10:30 I disembarked and made my way into the city.

The first building I saw was a modern building: the Alesund Rathaus, or city hall. Out front was a beautiful bronze statue of what looked to me like a Viking god. I stopped for a photo op. The map the purser had given me was a bit blurry, so it was difficult to make out the street names. At first I followed the crowd from the dock into the city, but then my map told me I had to take a right turn so I was off on my own. What I couldn’t tell from the map was that one of the streets on the way to the museum was very steep. I felt like I was back on the glacier trail!

Amazingly, my analog navigating had worked and I arrived at the museum just at 11. The building was an old wooden structure painted in the light ochre color I’ve seen so much in Norway. It must have been a survivor of the 1904 fire. It looked like it had once been an elegant home.

I stepped inside the grand entrance and arrived in a cozy entry way where I was greeted by a bearded gentlemen in a Norwegian sweater who welcomed me to the museum. “Jeg snakker ikke Norsk,” (I don’t speak Norwegian) I said in my stilted Norwegian. “Du snakker ikke Norsk,” he repeated. Then smiling, “This is OK because I speak English.” He took my entrance fee and then explained the museum to me: history of Alesund on first and third floors, including the 1904 fire and rebuilding and Norway’s occupation and resistance during WWII in the basement. “And what about the second floor?” I asked. “That,” he said smiling again, “is a surprise.”

I started on the first floor and was glad to find that descriptions were in Norwegian and English. There was much about Alesund’s history as a market town and its fishing industry. There were models and prints of 18^th and 19^th century ships, tools of the fishery trade, and artifacts from various periods. In one room was a scale model of the entire city before the 1904 fire. Photographs on the walls surrounding the model showed the devastating destruction after the fire. Remarkably, there was only one life lost, even though 85% of the town was destroyed.

         On the second floor was an exhibit called “City Glimpse” which recreated workplaces and shops from the 1920s through the 1960s. There was a dentist’s office, barber shop, photographer’s studio, shoemaker’s shop, women’s hat shop, and a general store. This was my “surprise.”

         On the third floor was the Brude-egget (“Brude Egg”), also called Uræd. The “egg” lifeboat was designed and built in Ålesund in 1904 by Ole Brude, a young Norwegian sailor who had become convinced that ordinary open lifeboats were dangerously inadequate. It was the world’s first covered steel lifeboat. It is about 18 feet long, made of galvanized steel, completely enclosed, and shaped something like an egg. It had sails but no engine. The idea was that its rounded, watertight shape would allow it to survive enormous waves without being swamped or overturned. In 1904, the Brude and three other men climbed into the little steel egg in Ålesund and set off across the North Atlantic. They intended to reach New York and display the boat at the World’s Fair in St. Louis. Instead, after an extraordinarily difficult voyage involving storms, illness and equipment problems, they eventually reached Newfoundland, and the voyage ended when the boat was driven ashore near Gloucester, Massachusetts. The Uraed I saw wasn’t just a replica or a model. It was the actual 1904 boat that crossed the Atlantic.

Downstairs I found the exhibits on the German occupation and Norwegian resistance during WWII. Unfortunately, not all of these exhibits were translated into English, though I was able to garner much from the photos and artifacts. There were images of German’s occupying Norwegian towns, sample ration cards, and old newspapers. One room depicted the operation of the Norwegian resistance to destroy a heavy water facility which the Germans had taken over. Heavy water is used in the creation of nuclear weapons. A small band of Norwegian resistors carried out the mission, which had a significant impact on German’s ability to create a nuclear weapon. A proud moment for Norway!

There was also a room full of old radio operator equipment. During the German occupation, radio was one of the Resistance’s critical links with Britain. Operators could receive information from London and transmit intelligence about German activities—especially shipping movements—back to the Allies. Altogether, the Norwegian resistance contributed much to the Allies success in the war.

Leaving the museum, I set out to find Anno, a restaurant where I could find the traditional Norwegian fish soup. I turned on my data so I could use Google maps on my phone to get me there. Even though I am usually abominable at any kind of map and directions, I managed to take the correct twists and turns and navigated my way there. The restaurant was just over a bridge connecting two of Alesund’s three islands. It looked like a wide river, and the shore was lined with pleasure boats of various sizes and types, including a replica Viking boat which I guessed was some sort of tourist attraction.

In the restaurant, I again tried to use my Norwegian. The menu listed four different zero beers: a German beer, Heineken, and two Norwegian sounding beers. I pointed to one of the Norwegian beers and asked, “Er det en Norsk ost?” meaning to say “Is that a Norwegian beer?” The server looked a bit confused, but seemed to indicate that it was not a good choice so I ordered the Heineken. I later found out that what I had actually said was, “Is that a Norwegian cheese?”

After lunch, I found my way back to ship WITH NO MAP. I had a sense where the pier was, and steered myself until I could see the Queen Mary looming in the distance. I headed that way, and as I neared the ship, I saw some other passengers in front of me and followed them back to the gangway.

         When I got back to the room, Santo was napping, so I collected my computer and headed to the Chart Room to chill and write.

Got back to the room around 4:30 pm. We had found out earlier that Elaine was not feeling well so our new friends had to cancel our rendezvous. So Santo and I enjoyed a drink in the cabin with fairy tale Alesund as a backdrop.

I had debated about whether to wear the gown again for the night’s gala. I thought of wearing one of my regular dresses with some nice jewelry, but at the last minute, decided to slip into the gown one more time. When else would I get the chance? These opportunities to dress up are one of the things we love about the QM2 after all.

We headed downstairs for dinner with our usual group. Conversation was a bit stilted, though we managed. While we liked out tablemates, we just didn’t have the kind of rapport with them that we did with Paul and Elaine. It might have been possible with Michael and Sabine, but the language barrier made it difficult.

After dinner we headed to the Chart Room to listen to some jazz before the Gala. I enjoyed seeing the parade of gowns and tuxes going by in the hallway next to our seats. It was like watching “E! Live from the Red Carpet.” There was a great range from the most elegant to borderline frumpy. I felt wonderful in Jane’s dress and Santo cut a fine figure in his suit and bowtie. Wonder what others would see when we joined the parade?

We decided to head down to the gala early to get good seats. We found a table for three empty at the front of the first tier on one edge of the dance floor. We would have a great view and be able to get to the dance floor easily. No matter how intimidated we were by the all the skilled dancers, we were determined to get in a dance or two.

Even though the band was the same as at the previous gala, we thought the song selection was just awful. It was still fun to watch the dancers, and make comments about them (!), but none of the tunes put us in the mood to dance. Finally, there was a slow song that we thought might be the best we would get, so we headed out. No matter the music, I always love dancing with Santo. It is how we first came together, and is still something we both treasure. This time I felt less intimidated, thinking instead how cool it was that I was sharing a dance floor with all these wonderful dancers. We sat down and waited, hoping for one more tune we could get up for. But we really weren’t enjoying the music so decided to head instead to one of the other venues where we could listen to some good music.

The first we came to was the Chart Room again, where there was a string trio playing. Perfect. We lucked out on two chairs with a view of both the performers and the moonlit ocean outside. As I basked in the magic of the night, I realized that we only had one more day aboard the Queen. We would savor this night and the day to come.

Luckily, we have our time with Alison and Maurice to look forward to.