Voyage North - a photo essay: (23) back in UK waters

As we sailed south from Reykjavik we sailed into proper dark nights and somewhat shorter days. We passed through the Pentland Firth (between the north of Scotland and the Orkney Islands) in the late afternoon. Many of us were out on deck, expecting to get a good view of the Old Man of Hoy. We did get a view, but a distant view, and not really a good one, as the sea mist was thickening into fog as we approached, and the sun only started to light up the cliffs of Orkney Mainland after we'd passed by Hoy.

The following evening we were off the coast of Norfolk, with land in sight, as evening started to fall. We passed by Sheringham Shoal Wind Farm in hazy, failing light:

Later, still in the vicinity of this enormous wind farm, the late rays of the sinking sun caught, rather dramatically, the side of a passing ship:

And the sun - obligingly for the photographer! - set behind the turbines:

The following morning we docked early at Tilbury and headed our various ways home, assailed by the hot humidity of the late July heatwave.

Postscript
Three weeks after returning, these two pieces about Greenland appeared in the Guardian:

https://www.theguardian.com/society/ng-interactive/2019/aug/12/life-on-thin-ice-mental-health-at-the-heart-of-the-climate-crisis

https://www.theguardian.com/world/2019/aug/12/greenland-residents-traumatised-by-climate-emergency

Voyage North - a photo essay: (22) leaving Reykjavik

We left Reykjavik in the evening with a long section of sailing alongside the peninsula (heading south west) before reaching the open sea and turning south east.

The pilot saw us out of the mooring and went ashore, and we can see distantly across the bay to the city skyline. Bottom right, the tall spire of the church and the rectangular block of the concert hall can be seen clearly:

Along the coastline there are active hot springs and I noticed that the late, low rays of the sun were making rainbows in the drifting water vapour rising from the thermal vents:

Now alerted to this, I noticed that the same low rays were making even more ephemeral rainbows in the spray from the ship's bow wave. Here on the left, the colour is barely a faint smudge against the sea; on the right, the colours can be seen more clearly:

Further out along the peninsula, as it starts to get dusk, the steam itself can be seen rising from the land:

Approaching the open sea at last, and with the light fading, we pass Eldey Island. This was the last known location of the now extinct great auk. It is still home to many colonies of seabirds.

As we reached the open sea and turned south east, the sun was setting behind us. In the centre (below) is the very distant, hazy view of (I think) Heimaey, the largest of the Vestmannaeyjar (Westman Islands):

We were now bound for home, with three consecutive sea days ahead of us; some of us were out on various parts of the deck, 'saying goodbye' as the sun sank:

Voyage North - a photo essay: (21) Harpa

Harpa is a large cultural building on the shore in the centre of Reykjavik. It contains shops, cafes, exhibition spaces and a large concert hall. After my morning tour of the city, this was where I wanted to spend the afternoon. The building was designed by Icelandic-Danish artist Ólafur Elíasson, who has exhibited in London at Tate Modern. I find his work very engaging and was interested to explore this building. It was especially pleasurable to wander round by myself, not on a tour, not with a group, and to be able to enjoy the changing play of light on the glass of the building.

Outside, the building proclaims itself a concert hall: the statue, by Icelandic sculptor Ólöf Pálsdóttir, is of the late Danish cellist Erling Blöndal Bengtsson. 

And its shapes and angles play with the sky:

From inside, it colors and frames the views, including sight-lines over the small-boats harbour:

And the glass cells of the construction play constantly with the shifting light and reflections:

Voyage North - a photo essay: (20) Hallgrímskirkja

The Hallgrímskirkja (Church of Hallgrímur) is the Lutheran (Church of Iceland) parish church of Reykjavik. It's the largest church in Iceland, and named after the seventeenth century poet and clergyman Halgrímur Pétursson. It was commissioned in 1937 and the architect, Guðjón Samúelsson, was the same as the one who designed the church in Akureyri.  It dominates the skyline of the city:

It is described as 'gothic with local references'. On the outside, the shapes of flowing lava and basalt columns are obvious.

The statue is of Leifur Eiríksson, a 10th century Norse explorer, the son of Eric the Red, the founder of the first Norse settlement in Iceland. The Norse settlers and the Lutheran Church are the two major historical foundations of Iceland - here, with the statue and the church, they appear to be given equal billing!

Leifur sailed west from Iceland via Greenland and settled for a short time on the American mainland (ca.1000 CE), at a place he named Vinland (because grapevines grew there). The location of Vinland is now thought to be at L'Anse aux Meadows in Newfoundland.

The statue was given to Iceland by the USA, in 1930, to commemorate the 1000th anniversary of the ancient Icelandic parliament. It was designed by American sculptor Alexander Stirling Calder.



















The 'local references' can also be seen clearly inside the building, with the structural echoes of Viking boat hulls:

And in items within the church we see other influences: the references to ice in the design of the font, and the sculpture of an abstract version of a Viking longship. The sculptor of the ship is Sigurjón Ólafsson.

In the summer in Iceland, the sun makes almost 90% of a whole circle in 24 hours and the design of the church maximises the effects of the shifting sunlight:

Voyage North - a photo essay: (19) Reykjavik

After leaving Qaqortoq, our last port of call in Greenland, we sailed for two days and moored in Reykjavik at breakfast time the following morning. I had visited the city once before and had spent most of the time on an excursion out into the surrounding countryside. This time I booked a guided tour of the city itself for the morning, and left the afternoon free to pursue further whatever had caught my interest.

We saw plenty of the scenic sea-/mountain-/cloud-scapes that present themselves everywhere in the city:

Above, lower right: some ominous cloud is rolling in! 

Above, lower left: this mountain covered in snow and ice is Snæfellsjökull - a 700,000-year-old glacier-capped stratovolcano situated on the most western part of the Snæfellsnes peninsula. It's 120km across Faxa Bay from the city, and cannot always be seen. Here it is just visible through the hazy air. The most significant issue is that the ice no longer reaches to the ground and the shoreline - along with many others, the Snæfell glacier is retreating as the climate warms (see  https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2019/aug/14/glaciers-iceland-country-loss-plaque-climate-crisis).

We visited a museum with a 360-degrees viewing platform affording panoramic views of the whole city:

The entrance to the museum - note the glass roof supported with earthquake protective shock absorbers on the pillars.

A volcanic-rocky shoreline right in the city centre; children and visitors build stone cairns everywhere in the world!

A public sculpture referencing a Viking ship; called Sun Voyager, it is one of many public sculptures by Jón Gunnar Árnason in the City.

Two other notable visits are detailed separately in the following posts.

Voyage North - a photo essay: (18) Qaqortoq

Qaqortoq, in the south of Greenland is the fourth largest town in the country, with a population of something over 3000. The area has been continuously inhabited for over 4000 years, with the current settlement dating from the late eighteenth century. It's an attractive town, especially as we were there on a warm, sunny Sunday, when the townspeople were out and about, enjoying themselves.

We arrived in the early morning in the bay with a misty view of the town, the icecap and a berg.

As the mist lifted, the familiar bright panorama as revealed.

Qaqortoq is the home town of the childcare worker I spoke in Maniitsoq. She extolled its attractiveness and abundance of flowers. She spoke the truth - there are many flowers, an attractive river, and - rather like Tasiilaq - valley of flowers leading out of the town to a lake.

The town has the familiar white New Church on top of a hill and the red Old Church, with its adjacent chapel of rest:

The memorial stone (above, centre; not actually a tombstone) commemorates Hans Egede and his wife Gertrud Rask. They were pioneer Lutheran missionaries to Greenland, and mentions of Egede turn up everywhere in the country. There is a memorial statue of him in Nuuk, and his son's house is one of the buildings now forming the museum in Sisimiut.

The appearance of the town is an attractive and well-kept version of the familiar pattern:

And some of the people follow the Scandinavian custom of flying the national flag on their home on special occasions.

Uniquely among the towns we visited, Qaqortoq has a town square, and the first ever fountain in Greenland (for a long time it was the only fountain, but there is, apparently, now also one in Sisimiut). It created a very different 'feel' for the town to have a physical centre - I had really noticed the absence of this elsewhere, and on a sunny Sunday it gradually filled up with families, children playing, teenagers eating ice creams . . . and our group of tourists taking photos!













Surrounding the square are the old church, the museum, the tourist centre, the street market and the attractive and busy harbour:

The museum has a well presented historical collection and display, but also two large rooms given over to contemporary Greenlandic art:

Qaqortoq seems to be promoting itself energetically as a tourist destination, building on its position and climate. It has a warm summer climate, hot springs, and wilderness country for hiking; it is easily accessible to ships traversing Cape Farewell from the east, as well as being simple to reach from the east coast of Canada and the north east of the USA. It has also turned itself into an open-air gallery, with a town trail of stone carvings into the bare rock, created by a wide group of Nordic artists. The trail guide, if followed completely, takes in all areas of the town as well as sites out in the surrounding countryside. Here are just a few from the town centre:

And a bench overlooking the harbour, another art work as well as a comfortable and scenic place to sit:

The three female figures 'embracing' the footrests are each slightly different and individual. They remind me somewhat of the Sheela Na Gig sculptures found in Europe, especially in Ireland and parts of Britain, as well as in significant numbers in Norway.

Two other buildings in the town caught my eye. The tourist offering does not consist solely of high culture!

And I was  intrigued by this. The sign on the house reads Vatikanbakken, which is Danish for Vatican Hill. Why would a house in Qaqortoq be named like this? The story seems to be this:

In the vicinity of Qaqortoq is Hvalsey Church, the best preserved ruin in the country. The final extant account of the Norse population of Greenland came from there, via a wedding described in the Vatican Annals of 1408. After that account, no further written record exists, and we are left with the mystery of what became of the Viking population in Greenland.

Qaqortoq was our final call in Greenland, and it was a delightful end to this part of our trip, especiallly after our cold, wet dismal-looking day in Nuuk; here was an attractive, varied and interesting town, in lovely warm, sunny weather, with a friendly and welcoming population.

We left in the evening to round Cape Farewell going eastwards, and then head north east for two days towards Reykjavik, our last call of the whole trip. We really were, at this point, homeward bound.

Voyage North - a photo essay: (17) leaving Nuuk, heading south

We left Nuuk in the afternoon and by early evening were again sailing down the west coast of Greenland. The captain announced that, later on, we would be passing a very beautiful glacier (Jakobshavn, which I'd previously seen in the distance on the way north) and he would sail as close in to the coast as was safe, so we could get a good view of it. However . . . everything in Greenland is subject to the weather! As we sailed south, the mist came down, followed by fog so thick that you could barely see the ship's rail from my cabin window. So my misty view sailing north was the only one I was going to get. But here is a smaller glacier we passed, just revealing - through the gloom - its terminal moraine:

As the mist was starting to come down I managed a few photos of the distant coast, with an iceberg that we sailed past, showing us changing perspectives, and different backdrops of the mountains and icecap, as our angle of view shifted . . . these were the last photos before the fog arrived.