Viking Cruises

66 | Viking Explorer Society News I dare not stand at the fenced edge too long. Looking down more than 300 metres, out into the endless water of the Barents Sea, I think about how this, to early explorers, would have felt like the end of the world. its curse. People can spend months without touching another soul; they hibernate in winter and are used to being covered up with "only their eyes showing". "What you call isolation for us is normal life. During COVID when the security distance was five metres, we were wondering, why so close?!" Sagueva laughs. In Geiranger, which is plunged into 22 hours per day of darkness in the colder months, it's not uncommon for local doctors to prescribe their patients trips to Spain for Vitamin D. Back near the ship, in one of the pop-up shops, I buy another jumper: a blue and orange Scandinavian knitted design with a cute collar and three wooden buttons, inspired by Sagueva. STOCKFISH AND SKOL We make our way through the cocktail menu (think lemon drops and negronis) in the Explorers' Lounge of an evening, watching the sea and flicking through books on adventurers and ice. Come morning, we hit the buffet, fine-tuning our approach: walk its full length before making any decisions and always pile on less than we think we want (so we can try more things). We have reached the Lofoten islands, a three-billion-year-old archipelago known for its cod fishing. At Lofoten Seafood Centre, we meet a young woman who sorts stockfish ready for sale, checking each fish's skin, meat and size and—most importantly—smelling it to make sure it's only the best quality. We drive to one of Norway's rare white sand beaches, a jewel among the black granite boulders, smoothed by centuries of snow, rising from green valleys dotted with white and yellow wildflowers. The word Viking means "king of the bay" and the campers who have set up here (it is legal to camp wherever you want in Norway) must surely feel like royalty. North Cape, Norway

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