Today was much better weather and the activities included a delightful meander along one of the narrowest fiords, then a boat cruise on the fiord and finally an incredible climb/walk to a 900 year old wooden church perched high on the mountain side.

If you read and understood my frustration with the Reykjavik Airport queues, rest assured the Bergen Train station is almost its’ equal. 

Today was bleak! Dark grey clouds, drizzling rain and the air temperature a cool 7 degrees centigrade. This does not deter the average Norwegian male who, as it is officially summer, parades the streets in a T-shirt. Tourists who outnumber the natives by 100 to 1, are immediately discernible by their attire: down jacket, gloves, rain pants and boots, giving the distinct impression of  being Amundsen the famous Norwegian polar explorer, about to set out and reach the South Pole.

A day and night in Bergen before the train to Voss where I meet up with my Backroads group. Bergen is the oldest port city in Norway and the old quay district, called Bryggen is an UNESCO world heritage site. 
A few pictures will give you a feel for the old town

These pictures show the original wooden shops and delightful alleys. Two of them are in the process of major renovation as rotting wood and sunken footings are causing significant structural instability 

I wandered into the Bergen Cathedral to a charming rehearsal of a children’s concert tomorrow, Sunday

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New Zealand has achieved the unique distinction of creative culling when it comes to introduced feral pests, specifically the possum. Lest I foment Pauline Hanson’s halal anger , I hesitate to explain that New Zealanders invariably check to ensure the possum is well and truely alive, before it is actually killed. It would be far too kind to kill a possum after it is dead

It seems that Norway has achieved the same distinction, albeit with its native fauna! I admit to a sense of disgust when I saw this at a tourist shop at the Oslo International airport

But then as I wrote this in the Oslo Business lounge – where most things are pickled, it dawned on me that we do the same with sheep – tan them I mean, not pickle them. It’s a moot point as they were introduced! But our iconic kangaroo is emasculated so that Japanese golfers carry their balls in a furry pouch. Make of that image what you will. 

On the long stretch from Adelaide to Dubai I revisited  that memorable film “In the Heat of the Night”. Powerful cinema. The only other choice was “The Sound of Music” which at several hours in length was sufficient to put me to sleep and awake just  in time for breakfast before arrival. 

The Oslo international airport passport/immigration counter was a nightmare for all countries other than the Euro Zone! There were but 2 windows for non EU passengers. As there arrived simultaneously an Emirates and Qatar flight, the queue stretched out of the arrival hall, across the tarmac and snaked around the edge of a nearby fiord.

I wait with foreboding the catastrophic queues of Heathrow after Brexit, which are already a nightmare. As the British invented the “queue”, I can only but wonder where it will all end up- figuratively and literally.

It was too good to be true, in all my years of travel, I have not lost luggage! I lose myself on every trip, but not a suitcase… until today.  At my final destination- Iceland, my backpack did not appear. It had been tagged “all the way through from Adelaide” confidently stated the Emirates check-in clerk! I am told it will appear at 1am at the airport! Tomorrow is a Golden Circle Tour followed by a swim in the blue lagoon at dusk.  I went out at 8 pm in wild wet weather to buy an anorak at the Icelandic equivalent of say, ” Paddy Pallin”. I toyed with also buying swimming togs as I am to visit the Blue Lagoon at dusk!