The amphitheatre was fabulous; not massive, but sunk down below the surrounding circus and street level, with a lovely view of the sea. It must have been quite a place to visit in the second century. It was, however, a huge heat trap, eliminating any offshore breeze that might have cooled elsewhere in the city and we had to seek out a place selling cold drinks in the shade immediately after visiting.

One of the first things we noticed in the city were the statues; there were quite a few and they were quite varied.

Architecture in the city was quite varied too.

I do like to take photos of street art when I see it on my travels and although Tarragona did not offer up many examples the ones I shot were of pretty reasonable quality.

The scenery along the shoreline of Tarragona was beautiful, affording views out over the railway line, amphitheatre, and sea, as well as granting us some small amount of breeze to combat the bone-penetrating heat of the day.

There wasn’t a lot to see in Cambrils although we didn’t look too hard; we were mostly keen to seek out something cool to drink by the time we got there.

The beach views along that stretch of coastline were all lovely; open, sandy beaches and gorgeous-looking sea to the horizon.

There were a few examples of some interesting-looking artwork along the beach area too.

As it was November it was cold enough to give everything a sheen of ice so we were quite careful on our first evening there but had a reasonable walk along part of the Icelandic shoreline before heading inland. We had no plans to visit anything at that time, just take in the lay of the land, make a note of anything interesting, and grab some shots of the varied architecture.

Water featured heavily in the town with rivers, a lake, and a reservoir in addition to the Atlantic coast.

We noticed a few pieces of art and sculpture and there was obviously some sort of street art scene going on in the area too.

On the final day we would discover Hellisgerdi Park and its abundance of artwork.

By the ocean’s edge I was quite taken with a piece of brutal architecture but I couldn’t work out what its function was.

A processed image of something that may have been art or may have been functional or may have been both.

A very quick recap in case you can’t be bothered to read about the trip so far: when we booked this cruise with Princess (fairly close to cruise date) it was nearly five years after our first and only other cruise leaving us in the position of having to learn what it is to travel by cruise ship all over again. We’d decided very early on that we’d be booking excursions as much as possible because we’re generally nosey people with a keen interest in history and culture but for this very first port stop in the very first foreign country we’d visited since our honeymoon half a decade earlier nothing jumped out at us. Thus it was that our first visit of a few hours to Norway would be on foot and with no firm plan at all. In later years we would be far more disciplined in researching just what we might be able to do on our own if the need arose but with us being travelling noobs all over again we probably didn’t make the most of our day ashore. There will always be another time.

Princess provided free shuttle buses to allow those of us not on organised excursions to get from Crown Princess into the city. We were dropped off by the city’s octagonal lake, Lille Lungegårdsvannet, made a note of when the buses would be returning to the ship, tutted mildly at the still overcast and lightly spitting weather conditions, and mostly followed the direction of more seasoned travellers also departing the vehicle to do their own thing.

Heading roughly west we crossed over a road and passed through Julemarked Byparken, a small public park with a few sculptures and statues as well as a prominent pavilion. Just beyond that was a modern, pedestrianised area lined with various upmarket stores and punctuated by stone sculptures and water features. The main square of Bergen, Torgallmenningen, was just off this area and it was through this that we next walked.

At the northern end of Torgallmenningen was the Sailor’s Monument, a large sculpture honouring sailors from different eras of Norway’s past.

Continuing on a straight line past the monument to sailors we approached Bergen’s fish market area which is unsurprisingly right by the waterfront area. My wife loves the smell of fresh fish, she loves seafood; I like fish, I can’t stand seafood, and the smell of fresh fish turns my stomach. We were never going to really stop at the fish market area because it’s not like you can buy some fish and take it back aboard the cruise ship to keep for a week until you’re home. Instead, we wandered past it and hugged the road along where the boats were docked, including a small Viking vessel.

The area of Bergen just beyond the fish market and opposite the water was called Bryggen and it’s a UNESCO World Cultural Site. Bryggen was the area in which Bergen was first founded in the eleventh century before expansion but its look and feel date to the middle of the fourteenth century onwards when this part of the city became a trading post for the Hanseatic League. What are now generally shops and locations for local craftspeople to work in were formerly warehouses and merchant houses for the League. The colourful wooden buildings still bear the signs of their previous lives and the narrow alleys and open spaces within the buildings, either lined with wooden boardwalks or cobbles, made for a lovely little wander.

We’re the sort of people who like to spend money in the places we’re travelling, not just spend it getting to and from them, so we were pleased to find a local jewellery workshop in this part of Bergen and my wife bought a hefty, silver ring. My wife tried the ring on, said it was lovely, acknowledged that she understood the stone wasn’t a diamond (for the price we were paying: well, duh!), said she’d love it, and the man there smiled and said he’d polish the piece of jewellery for her. This triggered a loud and indignant “Well, you didn’t offer to polish mine!” from an American woman who’d just bought something too. I guess we just bring out the best in people.

Our no-plan-just-wander tour of Bergen saw us next heading eastwards in a loop to get back roughly to where we’d been dropped off. We weren’t short for time but we were definitely still in a finding-our-feet phase of travelling. These days we would plan things a lot more, have set ideas where we’d want to be, make sure to spend as much time in port as possible, but back then we wanted to be certain that we’d be safely aboard ship in plenty of time.

Our walking route took us past some fairly uninteresting buildings and streets until we came out on Vetrlidsallmeningen where we were greeted by the sight of a long queue of – we assume – passengers from our ship waiting to board the Fløibanen funicular train to the top of the hill overlooking Bergen. On a clear day I imagine the sight is something worth seeing but with the cloud still partially obscuring the hilltop (although the light rain had ceased by this time) we were very glad that we hadn’t paid to do this on our own or as an excursion offered by the cruise line.

We cut through the line of people waiting to board the funicular and found ourselves in another old part of the city of Bergen. Wooden buildings and cobbled streets dominated, although there was more of an overall whiteness to the buildings rather than the varied colours of the buildings that had belonged to the Hanseatic League. This was Lille Øvregaten in the district of Vågsbunnen and it was one of the oldest parts of Bergen. In medieval times this was where you could find inns, goldsmiths, tailors, and booksellers, and it was also the home of cobblers until they found their own street in the fourteenth century.

Korskirken (or the Holy Cross Church) caught our eyes, its stone structure most likely being designed to do precisely that amongst all the wooden buildings that surrounded it. Its name comes not from its shape (although it is cruciform) but because it once housed relics of the True Cross (the somewhat unlikely alleged remnants of the cross on which Jesus was crucified) although these were stolen by Denmark who’d skipped the bit about not doing that in the commandments. The church was damaged in fires in 1198, 1248, 1413, 1582, 1623, 1640, and 1702 so not the greatest of track records when all’s said and done.

We continued heading roughly east and southeast through various streets in Bergen on our walk back towards the lake near where we’d been first dropped. There was a little bit of street art to be seen but nothing terribly good with the majority of work falling firmly in that unthinking graffiti category instead. One interesting moment was stumbling upon a group being filmed for something; it involved holding up cards with words on them then everyone waving Danish flags. Your guess is as good as mine.

Not far from the lake we made a stop at a bar with outdoor seating (as the weather was quite pleasant now) just so we could say that we’d had a Norwegian beer in Norway. Well, we can say that we’ve done it but it wasn’t a particularly nice experience in Bergen because social smoking was a big thing there. In later years (travelling in Europe in particular) we’d run into this problem with smoking in public a lot. Is it asking too much for smokers to simply lower themselves into a Pit of Shame whenever they want to light up? Anyway, we drank up quickly and decided to have one last short wander around before making our way back to the shuttle bus.

We made a quick circuit of Lille Lungegårdsvannet. Interesting pieces of art in the vicinity included Dansk Pige (or Danish Girl) by Gerhard Henning, and the fabulous, abstract, steel sculpture by Knut Steen to memorialise King Olaf Kyrre.

We had a quick look at the modern shops along the pedestrianised area we’d walked through earlier in the day but there was nothing to grab our attention.

With the weather being a little more favourable I took a couple of minutes to grab some additional photos around Julemarked Byparken once more. As public parks go it’s a pretty small one. To the north of the centrally-located pavilion was a statue to Edvard Grieg which we’d noticed earlier but on this second pass through we spotted an abstract piece of work that was more interesting to look at. This was a sculpture to another Norwegian composer, albeit a far less familiar one I’ll warrant, Harald Sæverud.

We decided to call it a day in Bergen at this point so walked through the Festplassen, the open air area beside the lake which often hosts circuses, amusement parks, festivals, and a regular pre-Christmas candle party. Best not to think too much about what the average Norwegian does at a candle party.

That concluded our walk around Bergen. We didn’t have long to wait until the shuttle bus returned us to Crown Princess. We had successfully negotiated our first day ashore on a cruise in five years and had the luxury of knowing that everywhere else we’d stop in Norway would include an organised tour meaning the chances of us getting left behind in any port were practically none.

In addition to traditional wall-daubed graffiti and street art there was also a sculpture that could be used as an artistic canvas.

In truth the graffiti was not of a fantastically high quality but we appreciated that a place like Ghent had it.

Our first stop was the most obvious landmark in Reykjavík, the Lutheran church Hallgrímskirkja. As we exited the impressive building we happened upon a wedding photo shoot taking place using the church as a backdrop. I made sure to take a few shots of the action as well.

After the church visit we walked the short distance down to the Reykjavík shoreline which provided some lovely views across the water to mountains around the Icelandic coast.

One of the features of the shoreline was the presence of a beautiful, stainless steel sculpture called The Sun Voyager. There were quite a few people hovering around, braving the bracing temperatures to take a photo or two and, unsurprisingly, I did the same. I also took a photo of an Icelandic man in front of the piece of art who drove up, hopped out of his car, and asked if I would. I’m nice like that.

Further along the water’s edge was the Harpa Concert Hall, an interesting piece of architecture that reminded me a little of the sand crawlers in Star Wars. We didn’t go in the building because there was a music festival taking place in Iceland in the week we were visiting and entrance was for ticket holders only.

We wandered around a little bit more after that taking more photos of Reykjavík’s streets and buildings as well as some of its street art while there was still light enough to do so before hunkering down in a few bars to grab some food and drink. Expensive, as you probably could guess with it being Iceland, but what we had was very good.

We popped into the Leeds Gallery next, mainly because one of us needed to pee. This gave us the opportunity for a bit of a look around (no photos though) and a quick stop to hydrate and grab a snack in the café. We were quite impressed with the tilework and general decorations of it.

We followed that up with a visit to the very good Leeds Museum (in a separate post) and with our cultural quotient filled we proceeded to explore the Yorkshire city on foot. As with a lot of big, old cities up north, away from much of the flattening that took place during World War 2, the architecture was fabulous and on a grand scale. Leeds city centre looked to be a quite well-to-do place, full of interesting shops and plenty of indoor shopping arcades.

One section of the pedestrianised shopping precinct in Leeds seemed to be popular with street entertainers including a Morris dancing side. We’ve got a soft spot for the traditions of the Morris so we stayed and watched for a little while, enjoying the interactions with other people.

Religious buildings were dotted around the city, as you’d expect.

Our walk back to the car park after we’d finished with nosing around some of the shops and stopping for a drink took us through more rundown, more modern streets and styles of architecture. There were still some gems among the bland buildings and even a few pieces of sculpture to punctuate that there was still some pride in these more industrialised areas.

A highlight of the trip was getting spotted with my camera by a local guy who then proceeded to pose and asked me to take a photo of him showing off his muscles. A little bit of street portraiture is absolutely fine with me so I was happy to oblige with a shot of this Leeds chap, whoever he was.

Ullandhaug was the area of the city to which we first headed. There would be two components forming this part of the excursion and both from very different parts of Stavanger’s history. We started at the Iron Age Farm open air museum. The location of Jernaldergården felt a little anachronistic, being overlooked by apartment blocks on one side, and this did detract from being able to immerse yourselves fully in the history, but it was still very interesting to visit and the guides did a fabulous job of recounting tales of what life was like in the period between 350 and 550 CE.

We didn’t just wander around the exterior of the farm buildings like the sheep in the area, but also were taken inside one for some more iron age storytelling. The buildings were very interesting, set into the ground and with turf laid on the roofs to keep the places as warm as possible. They were, however, awkward to get into and out of without a lot of bending and risk of bumps to the head.

Staying in the Ullandhaug area we next paid a visit to Ullandhaugtårnet, a telecommunications tower and landmark overlooking the city of Stavanger. Built in 1964 and standing sixty four metres in height there were some delightfully brutalist elements to the design that I loved and that many of our fellow passengers on the excursion couldn’t stand. As a light drizzle accompanied our visit to the tower and there were steps involved to get onto its viewing platform, a fair number of people decided to stay on the bus for the short time of our visit as a result.

Other than providing some lovely views of the Norwegian landscape around Stavanger, the tower itself did not have a lot of history, although it was built next to the spot where another tower commemorating the Battle of Hafrsjord had been erected in 1896 but which had been mostly destroyed during the Second World War. Stone markers with Viking symbols indicated where the remains of the tower had been removed the year before the telecoms tower had been constructed.

We enjoyed the scenery and tutted a little at the mediocre quality of the street art decorating some of the walls before heading back to the bus which was waiting to take us back to Stavanger.

As we approached the district the surroundings took on a surreal air with brightly coloured buildings springing up everywhere; murals, slogans, and cartoon-like sculptures were everywhere. While I don’t normally like taking photos from inside a vehicle on account of the usual dirty condition of the windows, the chance of vibration softening up the pictures too much, and the high potential for reflections I couldn’t resist capturing some shots as our coach closed in on its destination.

We happened upon some train tracks running along one side of La Boca that I assumed were disused on account of their general condition. We discovered soon afterwards that this wasn’t the case as a train came slowly rolling through the district.

We’d been advised to stay very much in the colourful, tourist part of La Boca and not to wander away as it could be dangerous – there was a police car parked up as an additional protection for tour groups – and we duly did that. There was plenty to catch my eye and my camera’s sensor in our restricted zone as my wife and I meandered up and down La Boca’s pedestrianised areas admiring the buildings and the impressive amounts of street art everywhere. At one point a tango dancer approached me and asked if I wanted to take her picture; fearing an appeal following that for money I didn’t have on me (it was impossible to pick up Argentinian money before our cruise) I declined.