Iceland and the Islands of the North, July 2018

For my Road Scholar cruise to Iceland and the Shetland and Faroe Islands (the Orkneys were originally included as well, but were dropped from the itinerary), I kept a journal, so I can draw more deeply on personal reflections for this blog. However, the journal doesn't preserve many impressions of the places visited. That's because the shore excursions were mostly unsatisfying. Trips to British tourist attractions--Westminster Abbey, the Museum of London, The Tower of London, and the Royal Mile in Edinburgh--were rushed, with very little time to go about on one's own. Weather in Iceland was cold and rainy (in contrast to London, which sweltered in 80 degree temperatures). The jacket I brought, though waterproof, was not adequate and I had to wear a turtleneck and a sweater beneath it. On a last-minute impulse, I had packed gloves and a wool scarf, but even so my first purchase ashore was a knit cap. While Iceland is rugged and impressive, the landscape is largely volcanic. There are many waterfalls, both spring-fed and glacial, but relatively few opportunities for pleasant walking, with one memorable exception. We spent several long days at sea, and the program was dominated by what happened onboard.

What had I been expecting when I signed up for this cruise? Well, not what I actually experienced, and I don't mean just the weather. The ship was the Aegean Odyssey, so I was familiar with it, and in anticipatory daydreams I most often envisioned myself going to the Charleston Lounge and having a quiet nightcap before retiring, though in fact I never did so. Instead, I dined regularly in the Marco Polo restaurant with my fellow Road Scholar group members, then went straight to bed. Other members of the tour group (including at least one woman in her eighties) attended the nightly cabarets, listened to show tunes and danced, but I didn't feel up to that. In retrospect, I'm sorry I skipped the late-night activities. But, for dinner at least, I threw the diet out the window, ate far more than I normally do--including a rich dessert every evening, usually ice cream--and was just more inclined to sleep it off. Let's face it, I had fallen into bad company, namely my fellow Road Scholars.

On this voyage the Road Scholars became a clique within the shipboard society. The other travelers were largely British and Australian; we formed an American unit, as it were, and developed a tight camaraderie. For me that was the greatest reward. Over and over again in the journal I mention the delight I feel at being accepted as a welcome companion, no one special, just liked for myself. I felt very keenly the difference between being among other classicists, at a SCS or CAMWS meeting for example, and being a member of this temporary club, which was much less fraught. As a classicist, one is "on" all the time; you are constantly aware of being judged, most of all by yourself. During one dinner, the topic of religion came up, and Gloria, the eightyish dancer and world traveler, described herself as a "recovering Catholic." I've never before opened up about my religious background to strangers, but I also identified myself as a recovering Catholic with a strong emotional affinity toward Lutheranism because of my paternal background. Writing in my journal afterward, though, I added that it might be more accurate to call myself a recovering classicist--the indoctrination process is just as severe, and the process of dissociating from the discipline just as painful.

So the program reassured me that I would be able to make new friends if we move to Academy Village. That was a positive lesson learned from this adventure. At the same time, though, I realized during the nineteen days away that I had not provided properly for Ron. Previously when I went to my scholarly meetings, and even for the cruise around Croatia last year, having his caretaker Alta come in every other day seemed to work well. This time, however, the disruption of workmen turning up to do repairs, along with the lack of someone to talk to most of the time, got to him, and he started feeling lonely and frustrated. Consequently, when Alta arrived one morning, he and his truck were missing--he had forgotten she was scheduled to visit. Alta finally tracked him down at Karen's, but she had to call Daniel to get Karen's number. Understandably, Daniel was upset with me. Subsequent conversations with him, and also with Karen and Alta, led to an agreement that in future Alta will stay overnight for the whole time I am out of town, just for everyone's peace of mind. The family seems to agree that my going away to a conference or on a Road Scholar program is not objectionable, but I must make sure that Ron has the companionship he needs. That's perfectly reasonable, and I can live with that.

There were a few memorable trip highlights. The most momentous was a whale-watching excursion at Húsavík, where a bad call on the part of the whaling ship's crew led to a series of disasters. Our tour leader, Baldur Gylfason, had come down with stomach cramps from eating street food, so he was not around to assist us. We had no idea that the excursion was scheduled to last for three hours, nor that the company running the charter would have to refund the cost if passengers did not see the requisite number of whales. There was no one present at the dock to help us put on spatter suits, and some people did not don them properly, or zippers were not working. Still, the North Sea was relatively calm when we put forth, and for the first hour and a half the trip was enjoyable. We did see whales, mostly humpback, and while the ship pitched occasionally no one seemed uncomfortable. Then the wind suddenly shifted and the sea got terribly choppy. People became seasick, including the one Aegean Odyssey officer accompanying our group. Swells arose and began breaking over the bow of the ship; everyone seated in front was getting drenched. The pilot started turning the ship in circles looking for a place to ride things out, but that resulted in waves slopping over the side, so the deck was awash. I was seated amidships, next to another Road Scholar, Nancy; I was protected from the worst of it by a bulwark, but she was not. I tried to pull her hood over her head to keep water from getting into her spatter suit, but the wind kept tearing it out of my hands. After what seemed an interminable time, they finally called off the trip, but the damage was done. Gloria was frozen and going into shock; Felicia, another over-eighty passenger, had slid off her bench, fallen onto the deck, and was wet through. No one on the whale-watching ship had the presence of mind to call the Aegean Odyssey and tell them to send transportation for people who could not continue the excursion. When we got into port, I took charge of Gloria and Nancy (who became dizzy and fell after disembarking), hurried them over to the nearby Whaling Museum, and bought them coffee. (I cut into the line and, since the servers' English didn't cover emergency proceedings, gave the order for coffee with milk in German. German is nowhere near Icelandic, but it worked.) Meanwhile, someone had called the ship and I learned they were sending a bus for Felicia; when it arrived, I got Nancy and Gloria, together with other wet individuals, safely back to the ship. No permanent harm done, but in my evaluation of the trip I castigated the poor judgment of the charter ship's crew and advised that the Aegean Odyssey either find something else for participants to do or issue proper caveats about the risks.

Our best Icelandic experience was exclusive to Road Scholars. As noted above, the island's terrain is formed of lava, either bare or covered with lichen. Outside Akureyri, though, there is a private lakeside nature preserve donated to the local community by its former owners. Baldur, being a native Icelander, knew of this special place and made time on the itinerary to take us there. It was like a forest in Washington or Oregon--tall trees, ferns, birdsong (some bugs, but we wore individual protective head nets that Baldur supplied) and rich earthy smells. Views of the lake were amazing--new vistas opened up at every turn of the path. Best of all, the sun came out--not for long, but enough to lift our spirits. While the hike was only two miles or so, and we were only there for an hour, the place was so serene and lovely that we all returned spiritually refreshed.

The other great thrill of the voyage was sailing up the River Thames to London. This was a first for the Aegean Odyssey, and they made quite a celebration of it. I came to the Lido Deck for my usual 6:30 a.m. healthy breakfast of fruit, bread and coffee to find they were serving champagne! Well, breakfast and coffee first--no champagne on an empty stomach.

Then, glass in hand, I mounted to the bow, where everyone had assembled to take pictures. As licensed pilot William Wells pointed out the places of interest along the Thames--Greenwich Naval Observatory, Westminster Cathedral, New Scotland Yard, the Houses of Parliament and Big Ben, the London Eye--we waited for the moment we would pass beneath Tower Bridge to dock at Tower Millennium Pier.

There are things I didn't know about the Aegean Odyssey when I booked this cruise. Gloria, who  sails on it at least once a year and dines with the Captain, told me that they have had two major fires in the past decade, which required extensive repairs and for which they had to compensate the passengers, since they had to change itineraries. If the Aegean Odyssey is cash-strapped, that would explain the brief stays in port, where they have to pay berthing fees, and the many days at sea. They can get away with a reduced number of landings because they now have a regular following of passengers who know each other and hang out together; it almost doesn't matter where the ship is headed, because they are more interested in the on-board activities.

As a solo traveler, I'm extremely partial to Road Scholar. They make a concerted effort to insure that people traveling by themselves do not feel isolated. While the solidarity on this trip was wonderful, other necessary elements were lacking. I want to be able to explore new places on my own as well as with a tour group, and I'd love to find people I can have long personal conversations with over coffee, lunch, or a drink. Finding the perfect vacation trip may take more investigation than I've been doing before I book, but that's a pleasant enough job of research.

To sum up: this was an expensive trip and not a fully satisfying one. Yet parts of it were very gratifying--enough to encourage me to go again, as long as I can feel confident that Ron will be OK in my absence.