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 

Seville, mostly

September 2022

After two and a half years off the rails, Spain beckons. We'll be travelling from Fratton (of course) to London, Eurostar to Paris where we'll tick off our last Parisian mainline station when we leave on the sleeper from Gare Austerlitz to Latour de Carol in the Pyrenees. From there a local train will take us to Barcelona where we'll overnight before catching the morning train to Granada. After a couple of nights there visiting the Alhambra, we'll head to Seville for the best part of a week, visiting Jerez, before heading home via Madrid and Santander where we'll catch the ferry to Portsmouth.

Day One

Fratton Station

The night before we leave there's a big thunder storm and water is coming in through the bathroom vent. After some running repairs we retire and awake the next morning to find everything in place so we shrug, get ready and set off to catch the 11.54 to Waterloo. Minor panic as a Southern Trains service to Victoria is abruptly cancelled but nothing else is affected and, although we set off slowly, thanks to other delayed Southern Trains - a fact our conductor is keen to remind us of throughout the journey - we arrive in good time and cross London by tube and sit patiently in St Pancras International waiting for our train gate to open.

I know Eurostar have had their critics recently but just to say, passport control and security was as smooth as possible with the added entertainment of one of the 'guides' making sure we got in the right passport lane - "no, this one, not my fault it's brexit".  

Arrived at Paris Nord bang on time leaving us just shy of two hours to get across Paris to Gare d'Austerlitz on a packed Ligne 5 and notwithstanding a wrenched elbow gained by lifting a heavy case and bag over the barrier. Anyway, Austerlitz will be lovely once it's finished and is the last mainline station in Paris from which we have departed (I may have mentioned this before). There's quite a wait in our airy (ok, outside) waiting area before the board directs us to the platform for our Intercités de nuit sleeper to Latour. There are no private beds on this train and I think we were too late booking to take advantage of an espace privée supplement, so we find ourselves sitting on our quite comfortable couchettes finishing off a half bottle of half decent Bordeaux before turning in under the sleeping bag provided for us. We have one traveling companion in the upper bunk but it's all very convivial as we speed on through the night to the Pyrenees.

Day two

At around 7am, our traveling companion starts moving about as quietly as she can and eventually leaves the train at Foix. We are thus left to ourselves for the next couple of hours as our train climbs slowly into the Pyrenees. It's beautiful. Mountain trains are the best, moving slowly through spectacular scenery while you gently take it all in and if it's a sleeper, you can come to your senses at leisure. And while this particular morning might not quite equal waking up to an eagle taking flight in the Highlands, the window is three times the size and we can both easily enjoy the passing view.

Eventually we come to a halt at the impressive but practically deserted Latour de Carol Enveitg station on the Spanish border. There's a nice looking café just outside but it turns out to be shut on a Wednesday so we have to content ourselves with coffee and pastries from the Relay concession in the station. Our Rodales train to Barcelona is due to leave at 10.25 and there's an announcement to that effect but there's no train and the half dozen of us waiting shrug and laugh at the imaginary transport that is 'about to leave' so 'please close the doors'. A moment or so later a man appears from the station building and shouts across the tracks to those of us waiting and it turns out the said train is 15 minutes late arriving. Twenty minutes later we board, and trundle off down the other side of the mountains to our destination. The first three quarters of the journey are spectacular (when not in the many short tunnels) but it gets more prosaic the closer to Barca we get and the last few kilometres are underground. 

We're staying at AC Sants across the concourse from the station and check in before having a very welcome shower and a bit of a siesta. It's a comfortable business oriented hotel and is so convenient for a brief stay in the Catalan capital as most trains come in and out of Sants and there's a massive taxi rank outside. Suitable refreshed we find there's still time for a short trip out and we settle on the museum of the art of Catalunya on Mount Juic. We wander across an get in one of those taxis which takes us right up to the museum and then swerves round and up the hill to a point nearer the actual entrance. There's a mobile bar affair outside the main door and a beer seems in order while we take in the panoramic view of the city. It's a spectacular venue and very well presented, plus Sarah gets in free. There's a lot to see but we confine ourselves to a splendidly presented exhibition of rescued medieval frescoes, altarpieces and other religious art from the region followed by a walk through the history of Spanish art.

Dinner tonight is at La Tere Gastrobar where we ate last time we were here; we hope it's as good and generally it is. The quality of food is still very good but I guess covid has contributed to robbing it of some of the ambience and bonhomie we experienced last time. Our train to Granada leaves at 8.30am so we retire to our room and watch something we'd downloaded on the iPad before turning in.

Day three

The convenience of our hotel can't be overstated. It's comfortable too, although the air conditioning this time was positively arctic. Left is the view from our window of the station, so it's a matter of supreme ease to walk across the street to catch our high speed train to Granada this morning. We have splashed out for confort class seats for the roughly six hour journey. Masks have to be worn and it takes a little while to get used to that again. Sarah has been spending time on every train making lace and today we're sharing our table with a Spanish pair, one of whom is crocheting a shawl and regales us with many photos of their previous efforts, all of which are excellently made but are largely variations on a theme.

The landscape of the Ebro valley is interestingly stark as we approach Zaragoza then passing Madrid on towards Cordoba there's farmland and olive groves. We get lunch from the buffet car; toasted iberico ham with tiny bottles of olive oil and a rather marvellous tomato concoction to tart it up with, together with a glass of red wine. 

Leaving Cordoba, where our new friends get off, we learn that the Queen is at death's door and I'm glad not to have to face wall-to-wall Nicholas Witchell speculating with no solid information for hours on end. It seems however that this is it.

Meanwhile, the track from Antequera to Granada is all olives and distant mountains. There's a new road being built and what looks like a wildfire in the distance but we arrive in good order into 33° heat and take a taxi to our hotel where we have to wait a while to check in at 4pm, no earlier. It's worth it however as we're upgraded to a very comfortable ground floor suite in this listed 17th century Palacio. The man at reception is extremely helpful and has prepared a useful guide to all that's good for our short stay here including where and when to get the best photos of the Alhambra and the best places to eat.

Time for a siesta.

Upon waking we learn that the Queen has indeed died.

We still need to eat so we head to La Diamante recommended by our host and manage to get a couple of seats at the bar. We order a couple of beers and get a mixed plate of seafood and aubergine to keep us going. We order clams, deep-fried anchovies and a dish of mushrooms and devour the lot washed down with a couple more beers. The food is as fresh as it is delicious and generous, the service is hectic and friendly. It's very popular. We go back to the hotel for a whisky and a relatively early night for tomorrow we have the Alhambra.

Day four

Our tour starts at noon, we're to be there fifteen minutes beforehand. Never one to leave things to the last minute, we're there an hour early. Time for breakfast at one of the cafés and still have twenty minutes to wait with no clue as to who out of the many tour guides in the meeting area will be ours. I wave my tickets at some of them but they shake their heads, they're not ours. Finally I find a few fellow tourees and we gather together outside the gift shop before Ana breezes up and announces she's the 12 o'clock English tour guide (she's actually local but her English is excellent). Tickets issued we start our three hour tour of the entire complex. It's fascinating, Ana has a PhD in Islamic studies and so provides us with perhaps far more insight than we might have had on other tours. We hadn't realised quite how extensive the Alhambra is but the best is saved for last as the tour ends in a crescendo of beauty and with us exhausted but happy. Sadly for us, the tour ends quite a distance and downhill from the entrance and the gift shop from where we've resolved to buy a suitable "coffee table" book. The climb back up is arduous in our tired state and the continuing 33 degree heat. 

A bus back to the centre and a search for lunch (at 4pm!) finds us inhaling egg, chips, chorizo, Andalucian black pudding, fried green peppers and pork loin washed down with beers and sparkling water at a café restaurant not far from last night's excellent repast. This too is wonderful, a sort of full Andalusian all-day breakfast.

We've been told that a particular church is as spectacular as any Rome has to offer so, refreshed, we catch the number 8 bus across the city and arrive at said church ten minutes before it closes. They won't let us in. Not even for a quick peek. Grrrr. It's a way out of town, among the university buildings, not being entirely sure of finding a bus back in this still searing heat, I check and find Granada has Uber so I call one and eventually we're back at the hotel for a shower and a snooze. A table has been booked at Los Manueles for 9.30pm - still early for Spain - and we have a decent meal there this time washed down with white sangria.

Day five

Before leaving for Seville there's time for breakfast at the "Alhambra Café" on Bib-Ramblas and some last minute shopping. We even squeeze in a visit to their very splendid cathedral before a taxi takes us to the station.

There's a pretty long queue for our train and every one's luggage has to be x-rayed before boarding. Our ticket is for Antequera where we change trains for Seville. It now seems the train we're about to board is also going to Seville which produces a moment's confusion but then I realise it's going via Cordoba which surely must take longer. In the event about twenty other passengers get off with us and board what turns out to be the train from Málaga to Seville arriving at around quarter past four.

Seville station is smart, new and cavernous. Outside is hot, stiflingly so. We find the taxi rank and get in the first available. Trouble is, the driver doesn't seem to know her way around, has to ring the apartment owners, still can't find it and has to use Sarah's Google maps directions to get us there. She still charges us €10 for the privilege despite having gone at least half a kilometre in the wrong direction.

The apartment is wonderful. It has a proper kitchen, living room and bedroom, a large bathroom, a balcony AND a rooftop pool. We go shopping and I cook us a spicy chicken tagliatelle dish as we enjoy a quiet night in. In the meantime I book us a tour of the Alcázar in the morning. 

Day six

The Alcázar is a fifteen minute walk from the apartment and Google maps takes us a slightly longer way than necessary but we fetch up at the Lion Gate in good time and wait. It's becoming increasingly clear that the deal with the tickets isn't the same as it was in Granada and all we've bought is a jump the queue ticket. There are plenty of potential guides around however and one seems particularly promising. We end up in a small group of six, there's a good dynamic and we have a thoroughly enjoyable tour. The Alcázar itself is beautiful in all respects and was substantially rebuilt by King Pedro who was strongly influenced by the style of the  Alhambra and you can see echoes of that design throughout those parts of the palace. I get the impression that the decoration is not quite as fine as that at Granada but that's really a counsel of perfection as it is still wonderful. The gardens are particularly impressive but the heat drives us inside and we have a quick lunch in the café and a wander around what remains of the old gothic portion of the palace and the ceramics exhibition before leaving in what remains stifling heat.

Outside the cathedral we stop for a drink - a couple of Finos as it happens - and some pinchos, at Orio's bar. Deciding to head to the river we stumble on the tourist office and end up booking a river trip on a solar powered boat. The boat doesn't leave until 6pm so we have a couple of hours to kill. We carry on down to the river, about 100m away, past the Torre Oro and find the pier for later and sit in the shade for a while. Further down the bank there's a couple of bars which seem as good a place as any to wait. The nearest looks quite good, the bar is run by a young man with his uninterested girlfriend and there's plenty of room so we order Aperol spritz and enjoy the ambience, which includes a Spotify playlist called "In da Guettho" which we have great fun texting our horrified daughters about.

After an iced coffee we head back to the pier and before long are aboard the boat on our river trip, which proves only that Seville's waterfront is not all that interesting, particularly when the three language commentary is out of sync, but it's a calm and relaxing hour spent on the water. We would normally spend late afternoons wherever we're staying to recharge before going out to dinner but today. perhaps foolishly given the heat, we're walking back through the old town looking for a potential tapas bar crawl. In the end we find a good looking restaurant and stay there for dinner instead and then manage to crawl home for a well-earned sleep.

Day seven

It's raining! I booked tickets to the cathedral last night (it's Monday and not much other touristy stuff is open) and on our way there this morning it starts to rain. Annoyingly the pre-booked entrance is not the main entrance and we have to dodge the now quite heavy rain to the other side of the building before we can go in. Seville Cathedral is quite magnificent, apparently the third largest in Europe after St. Peter's and St Paul's (Rome & London) and contains the tomb of Christopher Columbus (or part of him at least) among other treasures. It feels more like a museum than an active church but it is beautiful and the morning is well spent. It has a lovely cloister with orange trees and a wooden crocodile hanging from the ceiling and the obligatory gift shop through which we exit and from which we buy our obvious souvenir for Seville - a cheap resin model of the Torre Oro.

We grab a beer at a local bar and decide to take a tourist bus tour of the city aiming to end up at Plaza d'Espagne. It's a very long tour with several very interesting sights but the area that once held the 1992 world fair, now a business park, is not one of them. We go round the whole tour and swap buses to start again so we can reach our goal. The Plaza d'Espagne, part of the extensive rebuilding for the 1929 Ibero-American exhibition, is hugely impressive but seems somehow under-utilised and we have one more stop before we head back to the apartment. The tobacco factory where Bizet set Carmen is now a university building but it remains an impressive structure and Sarah poses for a photo outside to send to friends with whom we went to see the opera at the Royal Opera House a few years ago, buying very expensive tickets during a night on the vodka.

Tonight we eat at a splendidly decorated Moroccan restaurant very near the apartment and it's rather good.

Day eight

Before we left home I booked us a tour of a sherry bodega in Jerez and a couple of days before departing I get a phone call from them asking if I realised I'd booked a Spanish language tour. Obviously I hadn't realised this, so our visit time was pushed back from midday to 4pm for the English version. This means we don't have to leave Seville quite as early as originally planned - Jerez is only just over an hour away by train so we resolve to catch the 10:45 and amble the ten minute walk to the station. Queueing at the Renfe ticket office, time is starting to look tight but ultimately the train is delayed anyway so we arrive in good order and walk into the centre of town.

As with nearly all places it seems, the area around the station is not very salubrious but as we walk further Jerez begins to unfold its charms and we find ourselves first at a bar in the Plaza de la Asuncion for a refreshing fino, and then lunch of anchovies and Russian salad at a very local café in the Plaza Plateros. Our tour is at the Bodegas Tradicion and on the way there is the cathedral so we stop for a visit and spend a cool half hour before climbing what turns out to be quite a steep hill up to the bodega. We arrive a little early but they're happy to let us in and we rest under a roof of vines alongside a couple who had arrived even earlier than us. By the time four o'clock rolls round there are a dozen there for the tour.

Bodegas Tradicion is a relatively new venture built on the foundations of a much older one and their interesting story is told before we visit the many barrels of sherry and get a very good grounding in how the various types of wine are made and how they differ from each other. We then get a generous tasting of several of their very fine products before we are led into what turns out to be the highlight of the tour; their excellent private art collection where we sip our Pedro Ximenes and marvel at this small but perfectly formed collection of Spanish art including examples from all the greats - Goya, Velasquez, El Greco, Picasso to name the obvious. Suitably enamoured, we buy a couple of bottles - a fino and oloroso - and share a taxi back to the station with another couple. A coffee in the station café kills the time waiting for our train back to Seville where our taxi driver this time has a much better idea of where things are.

I make us a meal using up the chicken and pasta we had bought on our first day as a lovely day comes to a very satisfying end.

Day nine

The weather is fine again, but thankfully not as hot. We're heading for the Seville Museum of Fine Arts gallery in the Plaza de Museo. It's a nice wander through a different part of Seville and we first come across the magnificent Setas de Sevilla, a large wooden structure known to locals as the mushrooms, finished in 2010 and a very modern landmark for this old city.

On the way we also pass Lizerran, a café bar recommended by Adam for its pinchos, so we stop for a beer and a snack which is indeed pretty good, before we move on to through shopping streets to the gallery.

The gallery itself is excellent. Well curated and a fascinating journey through more Spanish art, including a fine collection of Murillos, set in a lovely old palazzo with a cool courtyard interior.

It's our last night in Seville so we decide to try one of the nearby bars, the first of which, "Becerrita", turns out to be a more than decent restaurant and a fitting conclusion to our time here. The food is lovely and we settle on sherry with every course rather than a bottle of wine. A crisp, dry fino to start followed by a Palo Cortado and finishing with a very fine PX. 

Day ten

Today marks the turn for home as we turn north towards Madrid. We leave Seville fairly early in the morning and arrive in the capital just after 11am. We're at the main station, Atocha, but our hotel and tomorrow's departure station is at Charmatín so after failing to find the local train connection we get in a taxi to cross the city. Charmatín is the mainly business quarter and home to Real Madrid but the station is rather prosaic and the hotel, like AC Sants in Barcelona, is not built for tourists but is also not quite as nice as its Catalan counterpart. It will do for us though.

Sarah has found us a potentially interesting little museum to visit only a couple of metro stops away. Finding the metro itself is less that straightforward however but after wandering aimlessly for a few minutes we eventually find it down some steps from platform 1 of the main station. The ticket machines are also less than obvious and there are a couple of staff stationed nearby to help the many confused travellers. After that, the trip is as easy as it should be. The museum is ten minutes from the metro and up a slight hill but we find it easily enough and buy our tickets. It's often best, we find, to start at the top floor and work our way down. The lift in this building is a rather fine vintage wooden one and the museum itself is filled with a marvellous collection of art, objet and artefacts put together by José Lázaro Galdiano and bequeathed to the Spanish state.

We seem to be in a rather expensive part of town with the cafés offering rather more expensive food than we really require on a Thursday lunchtime but we find one that's more relaxed than the others and beautifully decorated where have a lovely, good quality lunch. Rather better quality than the station Burger King we get for dinner before a very early start in the morning.

Day eleven

We're on a fast train to Valladolid where we change and catch a slow train through the Cantabrian mountains down to Santander. The mountains are very picturesque with broadleaf woodland, ochre painted houses and wild pampas grasses framing the meadows and villages dotted along the way and making it look not quite like a Swiss alpine scene.

Santander station is half a mile form the hotel and once oriented we drag our weary carcasses to what turns out to be a very nice hotel near the water, and crucially, across the road from the ferry terminal. We are able to check in and after a quick rest, a shower and booking a restaurant for later  Sarah is desperate for a swim. Santander is actually bigger than it looks and the main beach is really too far to walk so we get the front desk to call us a taxi. Before launching ourselves onto the sand it's time for lunch.

There are a whole load of bus stops here and several of them will take us back to the hotel so after a swim (for Sarah, not me) and a sizeable ice cream we catch one.

Our dinner booking is at Querida Magarita, a Michelin recommended restaurant. it seems quite near on the map so we walk, but it's further than we thought and up a bit of a hill and in what looks like a more residential area but it's very much worth it and we have a great meal with paired wines at a very reasonable price. A taxi back to the hotel is essential after such a repast.

Day twelve

A day to wander around the centre of Santander, picking up some last-minute shopping and having lunch in the cathedral square before it reopens after siesta. The cathedral itself is nice, not very elaborate but calm. We also have a stroll in the park by the hotel and take some time to relax looking across the water and laughing at the forlorn attempts of a workman to keep his temporary barrier erect in what s quite a strong wind and in the face of a public determined to ignore it. The modern arts centre is quite the building and the park has several sculptures dotted around - it's a lovely place to sit quietly after what has been a busy couple of weeks.

Dinner turns out to be in an old covered market that has been converted into something with art shops, bars and a travel themed restaurant. It's a real contrast to the previous evening but no less enjoyable and a fitting way for our time in Spain to end.

Days thirteen and fourteen

We arrive at the recommended time to catch the 2pm ferry back to Portsmouth and wait. And wait. Brittany Ferries' Santander route does not seem geared up for foot passengers at all as we wait for all the vehicles to embark before following them up the vehicle ramp rather than via a separate passenger entrance as you might expect. Our cabin is nice though, thankfully I booked one with a window, and we settle down for our 28 hour voyage home. There's an interesting talk scheduled for the marine mammals we might see on the way but we fail to see any whales or dolphins on either day. A fair dinner is included and we then retire to our cabin and watch "Rocket Man" (3 Stars) on their video on demand service. Sadly I completely failed to put my iPad away properly for falling asleep and so managed to leave it behind when we disembarked.

The weather was calm for the whole crossing thankfully. We don't dock until 5.30pm though and with nothing else much to do we end up watching most of the Queen's funeral, which seems to be on almost every TV on board anyway. Once again the lack of regard for foot passengers shows as we don't get to leave until well after everyone else and the bus to the terminal is cramped and not geared up for the amount of luggage we all carry. After a long time at border control (yawn, thanks Brexiteers) we call an Uber and are soon home.

Carbon saved by not flying: 1.15 tonnes