Our last journey together - three weeks in Scandinavia

Prologue

Back in early 2020 we were just about to start planning and booking our trip around Scandinavia when it became abundantly clear we wouldn't be going anywhere for a while. Three years later and we're finally setting forth on this Scandi saga, three weeks travelling and visiting the three capital cities on the way. 

Addendum: Sadly, we were not to know that this would be our last long trip together. Sarah recently died after a short and very uneven fight against cancer. The trip was wonderful and we both enjoyed it immensely, I'm only sorry I was unable to finish writing this post in time for Sarah to see it, please enjoy it on her behalf.

Addendum Two!

I have since found Sarah's diary notes from the trip and have added them after each day. The notes got more extensive further into the trip as she became more anxious not to forget anything. I have transcribed them just as they were written.

The basic itinerary

Unlike previous trips, we're not leaving Fratton on the train this time but will be driving to Germany to visit our friend in Remagen and setting off from there. This will at least give me the chance to write about LeShuttle (formerly EuroTunnel) which in our experience (and hopefully without tempting fate) has been the most quick and efficient way to cross the channel if you're driving.

After spending the first night in Remagen we'll be taking trains to Kiel to catch the overnight ferry to Gothenburg and then the intercity train to Stockholm where we'll be staying for a few days with my cousin. When we leave the Swedish capital we'll take the sleeper train all the way up to Narvik in northern Norway, well inside the Arctic Circle. After staying the night there, it's then two buses and a train, taking about 13 hours down to Trondheim but through some of the most spectacular scenery. We'll spend three days there, staying in an apartment (and getting some washing done) before moving on to Oslo for three days and finally Copenhagen for another three days. After that it's back to Remagen for a long weekend before getting back in the car and driving home.

The Journey

Day One

Up at 6am to drive to Remagen. Because one's never sure how the traffic is going to be on the M25, we have allowed about an hour contingency on a three hour drive, which means we arrive at Le Shuttle in good time enough to get on an earlier crossing. The efficiency of LeShuttle is in full swing, which means we actually leave an hour ahead of our original booking. It really is the easiest and most comfortable way to get across to Calais: the check-in gate has ANPR and loads your booking on the screen as you drive up - answer a few confirming questions and your windscreen tag is printed. If you have to wait any time there's a decent terminal building but keep an eye on the screens and an ear in the announcements - on both our last two crossings our tag has been called before the screens register that you can board. Next step is passport control, a little longer than before thanks to you know what, but it's not long before you're driving onto the train to make the 35 minute journey to France. The Calais end spits you straight out onto the motorway and off you go.

Our drive is fine, lots of opportunity to switch into cruise control across northern France and Belgium before it comes into its own on the autobahn. The route is as straightforward as it gets; once on our way the first time we need to make a turn is at Brussels to get on and off the Ring. Pretty much the next thing we do is turn right just before Cologne! Remagen is under a hour from there. There's not much to delay us, even with the changeable weather and a stop for petrol, and we arrive at 4pm.

Dinner is at the tapas restaurant we've been to before; Casa Antonio López, and we're joined by our old friend Jürgen for a very convivial evening.

Sarah: "Travel to Marly. Supper at Tapas with Jurgen"

Day Two

Very much a traveling day. We're up in very good time for Marlene to drive us to the station. I've intimated that the train for Cologne leaves "about 7:30" so that there's no chance of missing it. The train is scheduled to leave at 7:45 but it's actually close to ten minutes late. It's one of those 'bare bones' commuter trains and arrives at the Hautbahnhof in time for us to get some drinks for the next leg and a sandwich for later. The second train of the day takes us to Lübeck, a few hours away to the north east. The passing landscape slowly changes from agri-industrial to a more bucolic rurality the closer we get to our destination. Diagonally across the aisle from us is a young man accompanied by an older woman, presumably his mother. A little while into the journey he takes a large-ish bag of carrot batons from his coat pocket, which he proceeds to munch his way through, pausing only to mutter "Mmm, lecker*" every so often. It becomes a bit creepy, and when he leaves the train (with the older woman) I wonder briefly if she is his mother, or maybe his next victim. 

Having been a little late most of the journey so far, we arrive in Lübeck suddenly on time, where we change for the regional train to Kiel. It's a shortish trip through beautiful countryside, interspersed with the most picturesque lakes, before we're discharged into the late afternoon Kiel sunshine a short walk from the port where our Stenaline ferry to Gothenburg awaits. We can see the ferry terminal once we take the few steps from the station to the nearby main road, and it seems to take less time to reach it than it does to board. Check in is quick and easy, but the gangway is quite an uphill trek. The ship itself looks very like any other ferry but is subtly better - it's slightly more comfortable, and the buffet food is slightly better and with more choice than you might expect. Firstly though, there's a bar on the upper deck where we're serenaded over our beers by a couple of singers in the late afternoon sunshine. The trip has got off to a fabulous start. The singers aren't brilliant but just right for the mood as we sail north with the sun eventually setting as we turn in for the night.

(*tasty)

Sarah: "M takes us to station. Train to Cologne. Cologne to Lubeck. Lubeck to Kiel. Boat overnight -    singer on deck & buffet supper"

Day Three

Stockholm

Arrival in Gothenburg is misty. There's time to enjoy a leisurely breakfast in the cabin of bacon rolls and coffee from the upper deck bar; avoiding queues at the buffet. As we dock, the foot passengers crowd round the exit and we're also slightly anxious to be among the first off. We need to grab a taxi to the station - it's far too far to walk and there isn't an obvious bus - and although we know there's a rank at the ferry terminal, we don't know how many cabs will be available. In the event we manage to get in the second or third to pull up and are driven the few miles to what turns out to be a very open-plan station. Our train to Stockholm awaits but we have time to supplement our early breakfast and pick up some lunch from the concession stand before finding our first class carriage where we can relax as we cross Sweden in comfort. Coffee and snacks are also provided and the journey passes quickly so it doesn't seem long before we pull into Stockholm Central to be greeted on the platform by my cousin Anton who's looking after us for our stay here. We relocate to a coffee shop where we're joined by his daughter Kayla who was touchingly anxious to meet us before spending a few days with friends.

Anton and Annalie live at the end of the green metro line in one of several purpose built apartment complexes surrounding a communal green space, built in the 1970s after Swedish architects learned what not to do from Britain. It's very Swedish, very comfortable. He's arranged for us to stay in the community flat in the complex over the road and we drop our things before a surprise bicycle trip is sprung on us. We're to meet a few of their friends at a reggae evening a couple of miles across the parkland that extends beyond their flat. It's a lovely area and the ride is not too onerous even given our relative tiredness and we certainly wouldn't have missed it. The venue is a lakeside former sheltered living complex and we have a great time meeting friends Mia and Sasha, eating delicious burgers and listening to very white Swedes giving it all the reggae patois. The ride home is slightly more direct, slightly less 'scenic' but we do encounter a deer grazing peacefully by the side of the path before we join some residential streets leading back to the flat. Although it does seem childishly disconcerting to be riding down Karin Larsson's Väg on the way.

Sarah: "Arrive Gothenburg, breakfast on boat, coffee & croissants from deck bar.

            Train to Stockholm. Met by Anton, met Kayla then back to their flat. Out to reggae bar on the bikes, burgers

            Met Mia & Sasha"

Day Four

We have a delicious breakfast with Anton and Annalie before heading out, back into the city. A short walk from the station we find the right stop and catch a tram round to the open-air folk museum, "Skansen", across the road from the already long queues for the ABBA museum, the length of the  queue finally puts an end to any idea that we might visit. We will spend more than half the day wandering around the relocated ancient buildings as well as an aquarium and small zoo of native animals. It's a fascinating look into the past although it feels a little more contrived than you'd like. We have a very nice lunch, pet the odd cow and watch the bears before our meandering passes through more modern townscapes and we leave through a late nineteenth century shopping street to catch a tram back. 

It's very hot. We continue on from the tram stop into the oldest part of the city and collapse into a Pastis Bar run by an Arsenal fan with whom we end up discussing the merits of, among others, Freddie Ljungberg. A local policeman passes on a Segway as we get a text from Anton who's come to meet us for the approaching evening. Having wandered off, we reconvene at the bar before being led off to a nearby park for a bit of a picnic. It's cooler now and the repast is very welcome. Suitably refreshed we're taken on a brief tour of the old town where we indulge in an ultimately fruitless search for a souvenir 'Little Red House' before crossing the Golden Bridge (Guldbron) and climbing up to a trendy bar and food area overlooking the city. Anton video-calls his sisters in South Africa and we have a good chat over some beers and chips as the sun starts to set.  The crowd is getting younger and noisier so we head home, stopping only to admire the metro artwork.

Sarah: "Breakfast with A&A. Into Stockholm, folksmuseum (old houses etc) went to old town. Pastis bar. Met Anton. Picnic in park, crayfish salad, crackers & wine. Went up to terrace tried to buy small red house & failed! Beers & chips. Video called Janine & Dee"

Day Five

Today is Annalie's birthday, we're to meet up later at the modern art gallery for something of a "do", but first, today is also boat trip day. Rather than take one of the tourist trips/traps, we've been advised to make use of one of the regular ferry routes that service the huge archipelago that makes up the municipality of Stockholm. There's a rainstorm brewing but undaunted, we arrive at the quayside where the majority of ferries depart from. We've decided on Grinda as our destination, an island some 2 hours out but still roughly on the edge of the outer archipelago. The ferries themselves are fairly basic, but they have a coffee shop aboard and are far from crowded and the scenery is fantastic. We pass island after island with some of the most attractive waterfront properties before we land at Södra Grinda. The promised storm has, for the most part, remained focussed on the city centre but as we alight from the ferry, the rain starts quite heavily. Sadly, the island is primarily geared up for walkers and campers and it's a kilometre or so to the nearest open eatery. It's worth the ensuing dampness however, as the island's hotel is more than comfortable and welcomes us for a pre-lunch drink followed by the poshest Swedish meatballs for lunch itself. The rain has stopped by the time we need to walk back to the jetty and it's a pleasant stroll now through very beautiful woodland. There's quite a crowd waiting for the boat back to the city, which takes a slightly different route and docks on the other side of the peninsular it left from.

After a full day on the water, and after we manage to get the birthday girl a nice bottle of wine from one of the official shops, we decide to squeeze in a visit to the Nobel Prize museum before the evening's entertainment. It's a really good museum and worth the visit but it's a bit of a walk back to the modern art gallery for the birthday get-together, especially given how tired we are now. The gallery is entirely free on Friday evenings so, after drinks in the café bar, we spend a happy hour or two exploring the exhibits which includes a fascinating Laurie Anderson retrospective. As we're slowly reconvening in the lobby we're joined by Kayla who's come back a little early for the celebrations, which continue at a trendy local restaurant in an old waterfront building. We have a lovely evening before Anton drives us all home.

Sarah: "Up early - boat trip round archipelago to Grinda island. Rain, walked up to hotel for lunch - meatballs & mash. Back to mainland, wine supermarket for Annalie's b/day wine. Nobel museum. To modern art gallery met A&A & 3 friends. Drinks in garden then did all exhibitions (free) Laurie Anderson & Sjoo. Out with A&A & 1 friend for supper on waterfront, Kayla had joined us"

 

Day Six

It's Saturday and our last day in the Swedish capital. After breakfast in their flat we are to spend the whole day together exploring beyond the obvious. We get in the car (bags too) and are driven to Snösäträ where a community of street artists has taken over a derelict factory site. Every surface is covered in some of the best street/graffiti art we've seen and today there's something of a festival brewing as one section has been painted over (pink!) ready for new work. Artists are gathering and marking out their sections while some food and clothing stalls are setting up and the music starts. Sadly we don't have time to stay longer and after a good hour exploring it's time to move on.

Next stop is the other side of the city where we are to spend the middle of a steaming hot day at Millesgården, a gallery and sculpture park complex created by the sculptor Carl Milles and his wife, artist Olga Milles, née Granner. The gallery has some excellent exhibits and occupied us for a good while before we move into the sculpture park where the heat drives us into the café before we go much further. There's a decent amount of shade while we continue our visit which ends at the pink house where is housed an exhibition of Swedish artworks and antiquities which rounds off the visit nicely.

We're in an area of Stockholm where low-rise apartment complexes are dotted around parkland. Our final couple of hours here is spent picnicking on the edge of a small woodland, perched on a flattish rock overlooking the city. It's lovely and we are still in good time to get back to the city where we are to catch the sleeper train to Narvik in northern Norway, well inside the Arctic Circle. Farewells taken, we cross the road to the station and eventually find our way to the right platform for our train and wait.

The "Arctic Circle" sleeper itself is OK, although not quite as modern as the YouTube videos had us believe, perhaps we're just unlucky. The dining car for instance, is merely a hatch without a defined queueing system, not the cafeteria style expected, although the food is good enough. It's a long journey; leaving Stockholm at 6pm, we won't reach Narvik until around mid-morning the following day. As we travel north, the beautiful sunset seems to last an age as we drift off to sleep in a fairly comfortable cabin.

Sarah: "breakfast with A&A - went to street art graffiti place & house. Picnic. Dropped at station, bought  coffee for Steve. Night train to Narvik. Supper on board microwaved fish & potato eggfry"

Day Seven

Narvik

We wake to more sunshine, incredibly still in Sweden. There are a couple of major stops before we finally reach Norway. It's a popular hiking area, so by the time we roll into sunny Narvik, having enjoyed breakfast travelling through some spectacular scenery, the train is considerably emptier that it started. We're staying the night, principally because we have no option - the bus out leaves some three hours before the train comes in and there's no train south from Narvik although you can go further north. We've booked a hotel quite near the bus terminal so we can catch tomorrow's early bus down to Fauske to meet the train to Trondheim. Outside the station the advertised taxi number doesn't seem to work, perhaps it's just our phones, and there are no cabs hanging about, and none turn up while we wait for some twenty minutes. The only sensible course is to walk the half mile or so to the hotel where, of course, we're too early to check in. They'll happily look after our bags however so we wander off in the direction of the Narvik museum where we are welcomed with a coffee and an art exhibition as well as an extensive history of the railway we came in on. Narvik is an important iron ore port and the railway was originally built to transport the ore from the Swedish mountains to the North sea and on to the world, (including Port Talbot in Cymru we learn). It's a charming museum but now it's time for lunch. The restaurant bar under the hotel looks decent enough and so it proves as we hang out there until check in time. As it turns out (and as suspected), we'll be leaving too early for the hotel breakfast but the charming receptionist says not to worry, she'll make us up a packed breakfast to go!

After a siesta we go out to make sure we know exactly where the bus stop is (behind the shopping centre, down some steep steps), have look round and get some dinner - again at the hotel attached restaurant. It's still very light, disconcertingly so, as we make our way to the posh new-looking Scandia tower hotel for a beer and the view from their penthouse bar. Possibly the most expensive beers we've ever had but the view is breath-taking. It's still light when we turn in at around 10pm. The sun will officially set for only three hours this night, although it never really gets dark.

Sarah: "Arrive Narvik. Do museum (trains) & art exhibition. Beer in hotel bar. Dinner in hotel bar. Up tower hotel to bar for view & drink. Sunset at 11.35 rose at 2.30."

Day Eight

Day eight is all travel. We're in good time for our bus, which will make some thirty stops and a ferry crossing on its way to Storjord where we'll change buses for the rest of the trip to Fauske, about 6 hours and 60 stops in all. It turns out to be one of the most beautiful bus trips ever. Norway is just stunning, like Scotland on steroids. The buses themselves are pretty comfortable and we get a seat at the front so the view and comfort is enhanced. When we get to Skarberget the bus drives onto the ferry and we get a lovely 30 minute break as we cross the fjord. One of the other passengers points out a mountain in the distance which they say is Norway's national mountain, and who are we to argue. After changing buses, and nearly leaving my coat on the first one, we continue through more fantastic scenery and several long tunnels on our way to Fauske where the bus stops at Fauske station before continuing on to Bodø. We have about half an hour to wait for our train, just time for a very decent salad lunch from the café, before the train arrives and some nine hours later deposits us in Trondheim. Here we get a taxi to the bar where our apartment key has been left because we have arrived after the time allotted by the agent that we could meet at the apartment. It's good of them to allow us to book under the circumstances but the apartment itself is not so easy to find on our own. After initially misunderstanding where it was, we manage to get proper directions and collapse into what turns out to be a very nicely appointed flat and our home for the next three days.

Sarah: "Bus to ferry to storjold & then Fauske. Train to Trondheim. Arrived 10pm ish. To flat."

Day Nine

Trondheim

It's another bright, sunny day as we rise relatively early in search of breakfast. It turns out that central  Trondheim is relatively easy to navigate and reasonably compact too. We're staying in one of several new developments around a Docklands-lite area and just across the river Nidelva from the main part of town. Upstream of our apartment is the Old Town where we'll be dining this evening but first, breakfast. We find a charming café bakery and partake of the most delightful buns washed down with some very fine coffee.

Next stop is the Tourist Information Centre which, after a bit of searching, turns out to be a desk in a small shopping mall where we are able to pick up a tourist map. On the way we pass through the shopping centre where the precincts are decorated with flowers and colourful umbrellas. We pass an enticing art shop and don't pass a more enticing haberdashery. After about half an hour perusal Sarah leaves with some packets of buttons from the extensive and decoratively arranged racks.

Central Trondheim is a bit of an odd shape, growing up as it has along the winding mouth of the Nidelva river and the map proves very useful. Not far from where we are is the cathedral complex which includes several museums which thus seems the most logical next step of our tour. When we get there, we discover a craft market in the grounds and a large stage area built across the main façade, ready for a religious (probably) discussion session. All this is part of the weekend's Olavsfest celebrations, the city's big annual cultural festival.

We get a group museum ticket and visit the crown jewels, the museum of resistance, the archaeological museum, the Bishop's Palace, an art exhibition and the cathedral itself. It's been a busy morning and early afternoon so we head back to the flat pausing only for lunch where we had breakfast where by now they are serving delightful smorbrod.

Back at the flat we sort the washing out on the drying rack before a well-earned siesta.

Tonight's dinner is in the old town and has been booked long before we left home. We're dining at Baklandet Skydsstation, a very traditional Norwegian restaurant in a very wonky old yellow wooden building less than a mile form the flat. We walk past the many modern bistros near the flat and into the cobbled streets of Old Trondheim. It's a very pleasant walk and piques our appetites nicely. It's a hot summer's day but we both find the reindeer stew most inviting, and delicious it is. It's a charming and convivial atmosphere and we leave thoroughly satisfied after the addition of pancakes and jam (Sarah) and a delightful apple cake (me).

Just down the road is the famous Old Town Bridge from which many a selfie is taken, now including ours, and as we leave the bridge again I spot something I'd seen on YouTube before we came; a bike lift. It's a free service, but you really have to work for it - there's a very definite knack to it, so it provides several minutes entertainment as people try, and often fail to get a boost up the steep Brubakken street. While we're hanging about watching the cyclists, there's a growing number of people joining us in what looks like mediaeval dress. The confusion is soon resolved as we notice the small theatre across the way is playing Romeo & Juliet and it's the interval.

Sarah: "Nice coffee shop - soft buns & coffee. Haberdashery, buttons, walked, found info, craft fair. Military museum, crown jewels, art, Bishop's Palace, cathedral. Coffee shop for lunch. Quiet afternoon at flat. Shopped. Washing. Out to old town for trad supper (reindeer stew) & pancakes & jam/apple cake. Bike lift"

Day Ten

Just around the corner from the flat we've noticed a small modern art gallery which we spend a happy hour in before walking into town again, this time continuing on to where we can catch a boat out to the island of Munkholmen; a former monastery, later fortress with good views of Trondheim, a decent café, craft shop, plenty of picnic opportunities and a beach! The boat out takes about twenty minutes and is more or less hourly. It's an enjoyable way to spend a more leisurely few hours on our last day here, Sarah even has a paddle in the chill fjord. After catching the boat back, the rest of our time is spent just wandering and picking up our usual cheap souvenir.

In the evening we manage to get a table at what turns out to be a rightly very popular Italian restaurant on the waterfront.

Sarah: "Wandered - boat to island - lunch - paddle - boat back. Italian restaurant - packed"

Day Eleven

We're up early to catch the train to Oslo. It turns out to be a fairly short walk to the station so we arrive in good time. The journey is as spectacular as before and we arrive in the Norwegian capital mid afternoon and, almost as we step out from the station, into a short but very heavy downpour. We join the throngs sheltering in doorways before it eases and we brave the shortish walk to our hotel - the Hotel Karl Johan - which is very nice but has a peculiar layout. Our room is quite a walk from the central staircase, round several corners and up a few more stairs. We go so far round the floor we feel we must nearly be back at the beginning but our room, it appears, is at the opposite arm of a horseshoe and there's no quicker way to reach it.

After settling in we stroll down to the waterfront and find ourselves an early dinner of egg and wild mushroom ramen in an  aquavit bar on one of the piers. Of course, we have to try the local spirit as well, and very nice it is too. We have a short, meandering wander about the area, take in the many sculptural offerings before turning in for an early night - there's lots planned for the morrow.

Sarah: "Walked to train. Train to Oslo. Arrived to a soaking downpour. Walked to hotel - odd layout. Ate at pier bar. Early night"

Day Twelve

Oslo

Breakfast at the hotel is a bit of a scrum but we discover the rear entrance is much nearer our room than going all the way round again, so that's good.

Part of the reason for seeing the waterfront last night was to establish more or less where the boats to Bygdøy (or Museum Island) started from. It's not actually an island, more a peninsular, but there is a regular ferry service that most people use to get there. First stop is the Kon Tiki museum. Both of us were captivated by the story of Thor Heyerdal and his crossing of the pacific on a balsawood raft, and not only does the museum tell the story with film and artefacts, the actual Kon Tiki raft takes centre stage and we couldn't be more excited. His later voyages on the papyrus boats Ra and Ra2 are also fully covered as is the rest of this extraordinary man's life.

Across the way is the Fråm museum, containing the ship Fråm which Amundsen took to the South Pole, as well as a comprehensive story of polar exploration and the search for the Northwest Passage. It's a very popular attraction and rightly so. We have and great time there before visiting the maritime museum with its demonstration of Viking ship building and history of Norwegian seafaring. Our only disappointment is not being able to visit the famous Viking longship museum, which is closed for refurbishment until 2027.

Also on Bygdøy is the Norsk Folkesmuseum, a similar idea to that in Stockholm but somehow less showy, less commercialised. It's more of a walk than we anticipated and we're very relieved that there's a decent lunch to be had in the café before we go in. The highlight is the traditional wooden church and also eating Lefse with butter which was being baked in one of the old farmhouses on what is again a very hot afternoon.

We take the bus back into town which  stops near the royal palace, not far from our hotel, and it's pleasant walk back through the park.

Our evening meal is at Den Glade Gris (The Happy Pig), an  almost exclusively pork restaurant not too far from the hotel. As we arrive, we're glad we thought to book as there's a substantial queue growing which we skip. Looking at the menu, and then at each other, we both forego the opportunity to try smoked whale, before tucking into our beer and respective pork dishes. There are pigs everywhere. There are no vegetarian dishes on the menu but the vaguely sinister suggestion that one should ask the manager if that's what you want. We could only speculate as to what their reply might be!

Sarah: "Breakfast scrum. Boat to museum area - KON TIKI, FRAM (arctic), maritime museum (talk about viking boat building), boat house. Walked to Folkesmuseum saw old relocated houses & church. Ate LEFSE with butter. Trad restaurant Den Glade Gris (The Happy Pig) beer, pork knuckle, did not eat smoked whale! Pigs everywhere."

Day Thirteen (Saturday)

One of the more famous Oslo attractions, and one which anyone who has been before will insist you visit is the Vigeland sculpture park and associated museum. It's only a few stops on the tram from the hotel and although the weather has turned a bit drizzly, today's the day to visit. On the edge of the park is the Museum of Oslo which seems a good place to start but as we approach it seems deserted and as we get to the door it's clearly shut. One of the windows is broken and a staff member comes out to tell us that there was a break in last night and the museum wouldn't be opening today. There's a café just opening further into the park so we go there before tackling the sculpture park itself. There are more than 200 sculptures by Gustav Vigeland (1869–1943) in bronze, granite and cast iron, including famous works like The Angry Boy (Sinnataggen in Norwegian), The Monolith (Monolitten) and The Wheel of Life (Livshjulet). The sky is still grey as we wander this impressive life's work and then to the museum which is house in his studios and contains much of his other work and the maquettes and scale models of the park sculptures. There's also some more recent work by contemporary Norwegian artists on display which is, in many ways, just as challenging.
We decide to visit the royal palace as it's on the way home so attempt to buy tickets online which proves frustratingly impossible - they don't seem to be available 'on the day'. However, a quick look around the back of the building reveals a queue and an information desk. It's an odd system but we can certainly join the next tour but it's in Norwegian. We could certainly wait another hour for the next tour in English, but they have no way of knowing how many tickets have been sold by the various outlets around the city, so it might be full *shrugs*. There's a written guide in English so we shrug in return and join the queue for the Norwegian tour. No cameras, nothing sharp is allowed in and we have to wear crime scene booties whilst inside what turns out to be a moderately interesting palace.

It's warmer now and the air is quite muggy as we walk the couple of hundred yards back to the hotel to rest and change for our evening in a less touristy part of the city. Just behind the bus terminal  is Grønland, a vibrant multicultural area and we fancy a decent curry and a wander. It seems logical to take the bus even though we're not completely au fait with the system but we get to the bus station without too much trauma even though it takes a few minutes to orient ourselves as to which direction to walk thereafter. By the time we get there it's starting to rain quite seriously. There are a lot of options along the main street, but the Punjab Tandoori looks the business - full of local people and the odd backpacker, we go in and join the queue, frantically scanning the menu on the wall. A couple of beers first, then a couple of thaali which we get just as a table comes free. It's very good fare, and the people-watching is top notch. Some kulfi to finish off the meal is ideal.

The rain has eased by the time we leave and it's a nice walk to what we hope will be the right bus stop back to Karl Johan's Gate and the hotel. It might have been the right stop but it was the wrong bus. We're halfway up a hill we didn't come down on the way before we realise our mistake so get off and walk back down towards our destination. It's not massively far but we're tired now and we're just glad the rain has continued to hold off until we stumble into the lobby.

Sarah: "Sculpture park & museum. Oslo museum shut - windows smashed. Palace (tour in Norwegian) Cooper not allowed in! Rested in afternoon. Went for a curry"

Day Fourteen

It's our last day in Oslo and we've booked a floating sauna right on the quayside opposite the opera house. Borrowing the hotel's towels we take a pleasant walk past the parliament building and down Prinsens Gate towards the saunas. We are in a shared sauna, there's an American woman, some French students and a muslim couple from Copenhagen. She's in a full body outfit but it's all very convivial as we start to sweat together. We arrived first, along with the American, so she and Sarah are first outside to brave the leap into the Oslo fjord with myself not far behind. It's cold but not freezing and really quite invigorating. Some of the younger occupants start leaping from the roof of the sauna and a great time is had by all. Changing back into your clothes is a bit tricky given the open nature of the space, but the manager is happy to offer a more private room for those who need it.

Suitably refreshed we head across the way to the opera house, a magnificent structure meant to resemble an iceberg and serving a very nice coffee on the veranda. Visitors are able to climb all over the outside of the building and there are great views to be had from the top.

Just behind the opera house is the new Munch museum, celebrating the country's most famous artist. it's quite the structure, the top leaning quite significantly. We have a good look round, there's lots to take in, and yes we visit the darkened room where the several versions of The Scream are illuminated briefly, one at a time, to try and preserve their fragile existence for a bit longer.

By the time we finish we realise that it's both early afternoon and we're bloomin' starving. The museum café does a very good, if very expensive, beef smørbrod which we inhale before catching a tram back to the hotel where we manage to exchange our soggy towels for clean, dry ones and pack ready for the net leg of our journey tomorrow.

Before then we spend the evening at SALT, a small fjordside encampment of street food offerings we noticed whilst at the sauna. Beers, chicken bao buns and Cajun skewers and rice top off a most enjoyable day and reflecting on that is when I realise that Oslo has finally made us love it.

Sarah: "Sauna & fjord swimming - fab. Coffee. Opera house. Munch. Late lunch - roast beef sarnie. Packed. Managed to get soggy towels swapped for clean. Went to SALT - beers, chicken bao/fries plus chicken cajun skewers & rice. Very good. Packing mastered"

Day Fifteen

A storm has hit Norway overnight, Oslo is wet but trains north have been cancelled because some lines have been washed away. Thankfully we're heading South, ultimately to Copenhagen but initially back to Gothenburg where we have to get replacement bus to a station the other side of the city because of work on the line. It would normally be a direct train so this interruption is a nuisance. The train staff do their best to direct everyone to the right bus at the bus station across the road, but the buses themselves are not brilliantly signposted and the bus staff are bored with  the whole process. The weather remains awful, the scenery more ordinary. We cross the Oresund bridge almost without noticing and arrive in the Danish capital late in the afternoon. Our hotel is not far, a short walk across a major road junction and round the corner from the Tivoli Gardens, and very nice.

The rain has pretty much stopped by the time we wander out looking for dinner, which we take at a smart modern curry house on the next block. It's been quite a dull day's travel and we turn in early ready for a busy day tomorrow.

Sarah: "train to Gothenburg with a bus replacement for part of journey. Second train  had no wifi & got increasingly packed. Scenery big change from Norway - duller. Rain all the way. Found hotel - very nice room. Went out for a curry."

Day Sixteen 

Copenhagen and Helsingør

Neither of us felt we could visit Copenhagen without a day trip to Helsingør, the real life Elsinore of Shakespeare's Hamlet (but you knew that right?). Back at the railway station we have an amusingly frustrating view minutes trying to catch a train that may or may not be cancelled because of yesterday's storm, but eventually we get our tickets and find the right platform and we're on our way.

Helsingør castle is about a kilometre from the railway station with its statues of Hamlet and Ophelia, but its position means you can see it the whole way, looking every bit as you might expect it.

It's a magical place and they've really leaned into the whole Hamlet thing despite the events on which the play is based taking place much earlier and in an entirely different part of Denmark. Helsingør was the party capital of Elizabethan Europe apparently, so audiences would have recognised Elsinore ahead of anywhere else.

Scattered throughout the castle are actors playing characters from the play - Queen Gertrude playing with  some children, Claudius strutting his stuff in the living quarters, and Hamlet himself in the great hall (one of the biggest in Europe) holding court to a gaggle of enthralled children who, after hearing the story, rush off to confront Claudius trailing frantic parents in their wake.

We're having a marvellous day, we even take in the battements, the cellars rather than the ramparts, where Hamlet's ghost makes far more sense when you see the dark and mazy tunnels. After some time in the gift shop we walk into the old town where we come across an old bar with double windows full of steins. It looks just the place for lunch and it couldn't have been more perfect. We have herring and salad with a small dish of lard to 'butter' our rye bread (there's actual butter too for the faint-hearted), all washed down with what our ebullient host insists is the best beer in the world but is actually the local version of Tuborg (but still just right for the occasion).

It's time to leave this small town and head back to the city. Stopping off at the hotel to regroup we decide we'd better go and see the Little Mermaid statue even though it's miles from anywhere. Taking the metro out to the Østerport, it's still quite a walk to the statue on the other side of the castle. Is it worth it? Maybe. The waterfront there is attractive and it's a nice walk through the Amalienborg palace grounds to Nyhavn where we're going to look for dinner.

Nyhavn is a bit of a tourist trap but it's very picturesque, even in the rain, and we manage to find a seat indoors at one of the many restaurants. By the time we finished the rain has eased once again and it's a short walk to the large cobbled square of Kongens Nytorv where we can catch a metro back to near the hotel.

Sarah: "Good breakfast, nice glass yoghurt pots with lids - BANANA! Went to station - storm overnight had caused train chaos. Managed to get a train to Elsinore. BEAUTIFUL castle, underground cellars, actors being 'Hamlet!'. Lunch in pub full of steins - fried herring & beer - very good but much indigestion. Elsinore is a charming little town. Back for a nap. Out to see Little Mermaid on scary 'S' train (actually not scary but very urban). Took pics, walked to old town & saw palace & cathedral. Went to old town with pretty painted houses - OK supper in harbourside restaurant. Metro home very clean & new like Liz Line"

Day Seventeen

On our way to the Design Museum we pop into the Lego shop where surprisingly they do not do a Lego Little Mermaid (not even Disney's Ariel). Central Copenhagen is a nice place for a wander with lots to see and many interesting shops to experience. Just before we reach our destination we notice the Museum of Medicine which we decide is worth a look. We're right. A fascinating tour through medical history and an exhibition on the intelligence of the alimentary canal are among the exhibits spread over three floors.

It's raining again by  the time we reach the Design Museum fifty metres further on. It's very busy. It turns out that it's Design Week in Copenhagen and there's "An Event". We amuse ourselves watching the young and trendy cope with the whole rain situation in their fancy togs whilst enjoying our coffee and cake in the  café. The museum itself is slightly disappointing, possibly because of the Design Week focus, but especially given the reputation of Danish design.

We head off, the rain has stopped again, without any real idea of where although it is lunchtime now. We're a bit lost and find ourselves at the edge of the Østre Anlæg park and notice we're outside a small avant-garde art gallery called Den Frie Udstilling where, even more peculiarly, we notice one of the exhibitions they have on now is called "Popty Ping" - the Welsh for 'microwave'. They also have a café. The café is in the cellar and we enjoy a very nice lunch there before bracing ourselves for whatever the gallery has to offer. Which is largely dead centaurs. But also an apocalyptic film and a room full of microwave boxes. Challenging stuff but fascinating, and the life-size centaurs are modelled so well it takes a moment to make sure they're not actors.

Østre Anlæg is a lovely park, and on the other side of it is the national art museum, which is where we head next. An hour later and we're getting pretty tired - the museum is good btw - but we both feel obliged to pay our respects to Hans Christian Anderson by visiting his statue in the park across the road by which time we really need a rest.

After returning to the hotel, freshening up and having a well-earned nap, we decide to catch dinner at one or more of the stalls in the Tivoli Food Hall. We end up enjoying some pad thai at Wok Wok, and some more beers and quesadillas at Zócalo. It's a vibrant atmosphere with plenty to choose from, easy to move from stall to stall picking and choosing, having another beer and a great time.

Sarah: "Metro to older part of town. Did cathedral. Found medical museum, informative, beautifully laid out & designed, virtual reality headsets about sight. Walked to design museum, slightly up itself. Fashion week event being set up - what outfits. Good in parts, lovely silver & textiles. Walked & came across Den Frie Undstilling fur Kunze. Went in for lunch - fab sandwich. Saw an exhibition was 'Popty Ping' - whatever is it? Weird installation of 'on fire' microwave boxes! Weird dead centaur exhibit. Weird film. Went to National Gallery. Tired. Ice cream & coffee. Home. Out to Tivoli food hall - street food. Pad Thai & beer, Mexican & beer. Lego shop - no little mermaid - home. Shower leaking - new shower put in or is Sarah bonkers. Receptionist advised using towel to silence drip & will send plumber tomorrow."

(I'd forgotten about the shower incident!)

Day Eighteen

Our last day in Copenhagen, and our last meaningful day on holiday. We visited the royal palace with its fabulous library and interesting modern tapestries but otherwise it's fairly ordinary lived-in modern palace. 

Our next stop was to be Cristiania, the so-called independent (ish) hippy commune where we had quite an expensive Coke and a brief look round. It struck us as ultimately a bit seedy but it was a grey day and not much was going on so maybe that wasn't a true impression. Anyway, we had a good wander around the surrounding Cristianshavn before going back to pack. 

Our late afternoon and evening was booked for the Tivoli Gardens. Sarah was a sucker for a fairground and this is not one to miss. We had a marvellous evening on nearly every ride we could get on, including the kid's vintage car ride and carousel, but had most fun on the two rollercoasters that were running (it was still a bit windy) and getting face-deep in a couple of massive candy flosses. We finished the evening watching the ballet performance of The Steadfast Tin Soldier before having dinner in the food hall again. It was a lovely way to end our time in Scandinavia; Copenhagen is a great city to visit even though it's not as twee and compact as it would have you believe. 

Sarah: "Went to Royal Apartments - good walk. Went to Cristiania, grubby & full of bad jewellery stalls. Saw twisted spire church, open but too scared to go up. Bought Lego Xmas tree. Home. Packed. Out to TIVOLI Gardens. 9 rides including 2 rollercoasters & baby ride vintage  cars. Candy floss. Watched Toy Soldier ballet at open air Chinese Theatre. Supper in  food hall, steak & chips & red wine - very good. Home, finished our wine, lazed, sleep. Shower fixed."

Day Nineteen

A series of awful train journeys back to Remagen. The Copenhagen to Hamburg train was hot and uncomfortable. The Hamburg to Cologne flix train was hot and noisy, and our ticket wasn't actually valid for it so thank you very much Deutsche Bahn for fucking that one up for us, plus it arrived very late so we missed our scheduled connection to Remagen. We caught a later train, having sought the advice of the Cologne platform manager, and arrived back in Remagen about an hour and a half later than expected.

Sarah: "Out straight after breakfast. Train to Hamburg - no wifi, no charging points, very hot. Changed trains, FLIX train, had to get new ticket - wifi though. Very hot & very late. Missed connection to Remagen, scurried around & found next train. Got in at 8.50. Met by Marlene. Home to bread & meat & cheese & wine."

Days Twenty and Twenty-One

We spent a relaxing couple of days in Remagen. First we went to the Arp Museum just up the road - somewhere we had never been in all the times we'd visited Marlene, and then a morning at a flea market in Linz across the river. In between these was  a very German meal by the river opposite Konigswinter on the outskirts of Bonn. The decision to use Marlene's place as a base to launch our journey turned out to be an excellent one. Stopping there for the weekend proved to be a useful release of pressure before getting back in our car for the drive home the next day.

Sarah (with more detail than I remembered): "SAT: Up & out to Herr Fassbender for salami. Went to art gallery/station with Martin too. Cheesecake art gallery went on to restaurant where Beethoven used to go. Had supper beside Rhine - Liver! Home  for cake. Renata came round.

SUN: Late breakfast. Off to flea market at Linz. Martin too. Bought penguins for Steve. Tin for me, cocktail sticks for Ric. Beer on other side. Back to Marlene's & I cooked a curry for supper.

MON - home!"

 In Loving Memory of my companion in travel and in life; Sarah Lewis (1957-2024) RIP 

The Western Highlands

 Or, Scotland by rail part 3

January 2023

Having had our return journey (in Whisky Galore) disrupted, we were offered a complementary single journey as compensation. Lovely. Then Covid happened and things were obviously delayed but ScotRail were true to their word and we arranged a trip in November 2021. Two weeks before we were due to leave, word came of a rail strike for part of our time and our journey was completely cancelled under us. The hotel and other things were booked however so we decided to drive up - adding an extra two days and two overnight stops to the journey, but we had a great time in Inverness, Speyside and even visited John O'Groats for the craic.

This latest problem added another discount to our tickets that we have now used without further incident, and this is that tale:

Wednesday night  / Thursday:

No fancy restaurant or visit to Milroy's this time, Steve's knee was not up to long walks or stairs and none of us fancied aimlessly trolling about north London anyway, so we packed a picnic; including haggis stuffed potato scones to help celebrate Burns Night; and we left Fratton late in the afternoon on a more comfortable than usual SWT train aiming to get to Euston without rushing.  We grabbed a taxi from Waterloo and arrived at Euston's taxi rank in plenty of time, even allowing for the longish walk to the station concourse. The Caledonian Sleeper was not on the departure board yet so we found a seat and waited. During which time Steve got an email saying that the water in the cabins was not working but that everything else was fine and they were looking forward to welcoming us on board. The news was greeted with a shrug and a tot of whisky from my hipflask. Restless, I determined to find out where our train would be. The ticket  office chap didn't know for sure but that it was always either platform 1 or platform 15. I checked both and there it was at Platform 1. Just as I established this fact the announcement was made that we could board, which we duly did to the accompaniment of a lone piper (Burns Night, again). The new cabins are pretty much just an update on the old ones with a very similar design and layout, slightly bigger window and more mod cons but still a little more cramped (it seems) than its European counterparts. But they also retain the adjoining compartment door so were we able to properly share our splendid picnic, quality wine and more whisky before allowing the clack of the rails to rock us to sleep. Before turning in finally, I checked that our breakfast order had been taken and the lovely Fiona, our coach's attendant, assured us that she had it and furthermore that it would be complementary owing to the lack of running water in the cabin although they had supplied ample bottled. 

We woke to snow-capped peaks and coffee and bacon rolls to enjoy them with, rolling into Fort William a few minutes ahead of schedule.

This time I had booked a hire car for us from a local company, which turned up a little late as they were dealing with another hire from the train and it really is a small local operation. Our ride for the week was a rather swish Audi sports model, low-profile tyres and automatic gearbox an' all. Lovely, but not, as we discovered, ideal for some of the more remote Scottish roads we were to travel. Knowing that we were not able to check in to our apartment before 4pm, I had arranged a visit to a gin distillery where we were to have the full experience, coming away with our own bottle of ultra-small batch craft gin made to our own recipe (with much guidance of course).

Pixel Spirits turned out to be a side project of the Loch Leven Hotel, or was the hotel the side project? It's hard to say but it was a splendid afternoon in glorious surroundings. Welcomed with coffee and biscuits, then a chat about the company over a gin and tonic before a tour of the distillery.

We were then shown to our mini stills and a table with over 100 botanicals to choose from and following some very clear guidance we came up with our recipes and set to weighing our ingredients before firing up the stills and watching the process unfold, intervening at the appropriate times, turning a litre of grain alcohol into, in our case, English Breakfast Gin, while Steve and Alison came up with something more floral and herby in their bottle of "Three Score Years and Ten" celebrating, as we were, Steve's 70th birthday. 

It was a really great afternoon, we learned a lot and came away with a good understanding of the process and a unique gin, which if we think worthwhile, they will make further bottles to order from our recipe.

As we were staying in an apartment this time rather than a hotel, a quick visit to Morrison's was in order to source breakfast items etc. before we checked in, unpacked and showered. The apartment block is in an old garrison building up the hill a bit from the main road but very comfortable, if a little under-lit. There turns out to be steps down the side of the building to the main road, fetching up barely 50 metres from the curry house we enjoyed on our last visit and do so again on a surprisingly busy Thursday night.

Friday

Today is Ardnamurchan day and is the first real test of our flashy sports Audi as the roads on the peninsula are narrow, winding and less than smooth. First stop however, is the Corran Ferry across the narrowest point of Loch Linnhe. It's a flatbed roro, and the crossing is about a third of a mile but it costs a tenner each way for cars although pedestrians go free. It's a beautiful drive down the coast from the ferry and the road then cuts inland between Garbh Bheinn and Creach Bheinn and then down the side of Loch Sunart to Salen. The road forks there and the way to the distillery continues down the side of the Loch for a few miles. Driving it is a tense affair but we get there and pull into the rather smart distillery overlooking the loch where we are greeted with confusion as Caren had forgotten to book our tour into the new electronic system. All is well though, it's January and there's no other visitors. It's a marvellous distillery, determinedly carbon-neutral and sustainable and produces a jolly fine dram. Caren is a delightful host and we have a lovely time. It's well into lunchtime by now and it's January. Nothing nearby is open so we forego any idea of driving to the point of the peninsula - the westernmost point of the British mainland - and turn back towards Salen and take the turn north. At Acharacle there's a community café that serves food all day including the most delicious Full Scottish Breakfast in which I indulge wholeheartedly before we continue on our way. The plan is to make a circuit via Glenfinnan back to Fort William but not far out of Acharacle I screech to a halt as a roadside venison stand appears as we round a corner. The sign directs us to the red house next door and eventually the occupant shuffles out to help us. It's his son's shop he tells us but he is out shooting some more stock. We buy what turn out to be some excellent sausages and a particularly fine haunch to roast for Steve's birthday on Monday. 

The road winds on, heading towards the coast before it will join the main "Road to the Isles" and we turn back towards Fort William. On one of the more isolated stretches, we are forced to a stop while a gang of workmen close the road to take what looks like an outsized lawnmower to some overhanging trees. After a wait of some twenty minutes, I edge our car with its low-profile tyres gingerly over the debris and off we go again.

We stop briefly at Glenfinnan to take pictures of the viaduct and buy some Harry Potter related toy or other for Osian, but as time is getting on, we don't stop long and are back in FW in good time to rest up and change before dinner at the winter premises of the fish restaurant we enjoyed so much last time. It once again serves up an excellent repast and our day draws to its close climbing the steps back to the apartment and enjoying a few drams, mine being those of the Ardnamurchan tasting, helpfully decanted into little bottles for the driver.

Saturday

Oban is today's destination and it's Sarah's turn to drive, not something she's looking forward to as she's not a big fan of automatics. The direct road is a winding but very scenic affair and it takes a little over half an hour to get there. We park up and explore, it's a beautiful town with much to recommend it; a lovely harbour, two very fine whisky shops and "The Gem Box", a childhood memory of Sarah's whose family loved Oban and Mull and whose late cousin loved shopping at this jeweller. There's nothing that takes our fancy there today however so we seek out the distillery. We knew in advance that they weren't doing tours and the only tasting they will offer is the official one at 2pm which is verging on a bit too late for our other plans for the day. Neither do they produce miniatures and their whole attitude comes across as being a bit snotty. Never mind, there's a charmingly ordinary local pub, Aulay's Bar, near our car park which not only serves delicious haggis rolls alongside some pretty decent beer, but also sells the local dram which we try and like well enough. Resolving that the distillery had lost the opportunity of a direct sale, we spend some time, and far too much money, in the independent whisky shops instead.

Tonight's meal is something of a blow-out as we've opted to throw caution to the wind and dine at Inverlochy Castle where Michel Roux Jr oversees the menu. It's a wonderful evening with great food and a fabulous accompanying flight of wines in an exceptional setting including, at the top of the stairs leading to the lavatories, a snooker room straight out of an inter-war novel with the most enormous elk head on the wall. 

Sunday

Today is the longest trip of the tour as we're booked into Talisker on Skye. And it's stormy. Knowing we could potentially be a bit jaded after the night before, our visit isn't until after 2pm but it's still a relatively early start as it's over two and a half hours away. And it's stormy. We turn off the main Inverness road at Invergarry and head towards Kyle of Lochalsh as the worst of the storm hits. The drive over the pass into Invershiel is particularly challenging and we're barely halfway. Eventually we get to the bridge over to Skye and, despite the lack of water-borne transport, a chorus of The Skye Boat Song breaks out in the back seat. Skye is the largest of the Inner Hebrides so there's still a way to go to Carbost and the Talisker distillery but at least the weather is easing. 

Water is cascading off the mountains, and the road gets smaller the further we go but we arrive in the area in good time, as planned, and we start to think about lunch. Despite what the internet had to say about our options, nothing we had researched was actually open, so we rocked up at our destination some 90 minutes early and despite signs to an on-site café there was nothing to eat there either. We leave Steve perusing the shop and dash back up to the local community store just as it's closing but the

proprietor's  a good soul and lets us buy our provisions which we then consume in the rather smart waiting area of the visitor centre. Finally working out that we were the only people booked in on the 2:30pm presentation, and the likelihood of 'passing trade' was virtually nil, they suggest we take the experience now so we waste no more time and head to the tasting room. The 'experience' is billed as a multimedia extravaganza but in reality is a series of promotional films and a guided tasting but it's ok, and Sarah's driver's drams come in a neat hessian bag with a free funnel, so that's good. The shop is well stocked and we end up buying a bottle of 9 year old wine cask finish that you can bottle yourself, which is a lovely detail, so I have a bottle of Talisker with my name on it and an entry in the customs book.

The drive home is much less hairy as the weather has eased considerably. We stop at the Collie and MacKenzie statue at Sligochan for a wander and photos before turning towards home pausing only to fill up at the Co-op in Broadford whose petrol is noticeably cheaper than anywhere else we've seen. It's dark by the time we get back to FW, and we hunker down to a meal of venison sausages and plenty of whisky.

Monday

When originally planning this trip, we had thought we'd leave on Monday but for some arcane reason we couldn't get the train until Tuesday evening so we decided to go to Mull on Monday as a sort of bonus trip. The usual way to get there I believe is to go to Oban and catch the ferry to Tobermory but that's far too easy for us intrepid travellers. 

We cross Linnhe by the Corran ferry as per, then at Loch Sunart we fork left and cross the mountains to Lochaline and the short ferry across the straits to Fishnish on Mull. From there it's a very scenic half hour drive to Tobermory and the most delightful distillery experience of our trip - even though it was my turn to drive! I had emailed the distillery ahead of our trip saying we were hoping to get there this day but certainly couldn't guarantee what time, so would they be able to accommodate us on something of an ad hoc basis? When we arrived they were more than welcoming and offered us what would normally be a warehouse tasting of their finer whiskies at 2pm, but with the warehouse closed for refurbishment we could have a short tour instead. That suited us admirably so we decamped to the pub next door for a pint and a burger before a wander around the harbourside of Ballymory, I mean Tobermory - which I still associate with the Wombles as our kids were grown up long before Ballymory was a thing. It's a delightful place even with half of it closed and we manage to get a few things we needed including a postcard for Michael.

The distillery tour is great; no matter how many of these we do, there's always something new or different. The tasting is long and relaxed and from my tiny sips I manage to guess the finish of a couple of the drams and am thoroughly chuffed with myself. Time is pressing however, there's a long way and two ferries to get home in time to roast the venison for Steve's actual birthday dinner so, reluctantly we return to the car and head back. I don't get much company on the way home aside from a few snores and a drunken rendition of 'Sailing' as we're crammed onto the Corran ferry for the last time. The road back from Lochaline is twisty and the fog has descended so I'm quite grateful for the relative silence as I try to keep up with the tail lights of the car in front, but I'm no match for his local knowledge and lose sight just before the summit and crawl down the other side before the fog clears and the altitude lowers. Aiming to get back by 6pm, I pull up at 6:15 which I think is pretty good considering the three-quarter hour wait at Fishnish. There's a rush to get the meat in the oven and we're back on schedule for what is an excellent repast followed by more whisky.

Tuesday

We've arranged to have the car for the rest of the day and we think that a trip to Spean Bridge would be worthwhile as it's advertised as a woollen mill and whisky centre but it's nothing but a tourist trap for unwary Americans so we have to make other plans. Despite my misgivings it's decided that a drive out to Mallaig would suit. I think this is largely swayed by memories of the crab sandwiches we had there last time because there's bugger all else to do there. It is a good drive though, especially in the Audi and we rock up at a very windy Mallaig where nothing at all is open save the local Co-op. Still, it's a nice drive. The way home passes Glenfinnan again and their visitor centre has a café that was open last time we passed so that's our new destination. There's also a very good little exhibition about the Jacobite Rebellion which started here in 1745. After coffee and cake, and in between showers, Sarah and I wander over to the impressive memorial to the rebellion.

The afternoon plans centre around the Ben Nevis pub, once we've garnered enough supplies for our train picnic later. Having parked the car at the station, left the keys with the ticket office and  the bags in left luggage, it's a fifteen minute walk through town to the pub. On the way I notice that the wool shop that had been closed every other time we passed, was open so Sarah and I went in while the others went to secure a table for a late lunch. It's a charming shop, up a flight or two of stairs and turned out only to be open because the owner's friend from Eigg was stuck on the mainland after a late-night helicopter trip to the hospital for her, thankfully well, young baby. Two bags of fleece, some wool and a couple of books later (one signed by the woman from Eigg who turned out to be its author), we bid a fond farewell and find the others at the pub. Pie and chips all round, and more than a couple of pints of the local brew pass the afternoon swimmingly, but eventually it's time to go. 

Having retrieved our many, heavy, bags we're waiting in the fairly cold foyer when we're invited into the First Class lounge - there's far too few passengers at this time of year we're told, to keep it too exclusive. We're checked in, fed coffee and biscuits and wait in comfort for the call to board. The paucity of passengers also means we can get a seat in the dining car for the first part of our journey where we enjoy a conversation with the steward and a miniature of Glen Garrioch just to be sociable. There's also a repeat of the cabin water problems so our breakfast is again free. We return to our cabins, consume our picnic (and a dram or two) before turning in, oblivious until we are served breakfast somewhere in the midlands before rolling into an empty Euston (there's a train strike) just ahead of schedule.

Wednesday

We've booked a taxi home at great expense and he's late. We eventually get hold of him and he's stuck in traffic not having realised there'd be trouble on a rail strike day. He finally shows up and we load our bags into the boot and ourselves into the car. It's comfortable but this guy is not a good driver and, being in the front seat, my journey home is fraught with worry but we get there in one piece and fall into the house.