Stavanger Norway May 12, 2018

Carol’s Norwegian ancestry out our state room door this morning.

Carol is 17% Norwegian. DNA does not lie. Carol has temporarily divorced me and is telling everybody her name is Nelson. For that she gets an extra helping of pickled herring. I would’ve gone for the reindeer.

This is the view outside our stateroom this morning. Watching the traffic go by with a cup of cappuccino. Carol calls this Nelsonville.

Carol takes wag on the location of her ancient relatives. Later research places location further north.

This is not the good ship Lollipop but it is a fjord worthy craft taking us to Pulpit Rock. A few fjord photos for your viewing pleasure follow.

We were treated to Belgien waffles on our way to Pulpit Rock. Modesty if not downright embarrassment prevents me from showing you the amount of strawberry sauce and cream I put in my waffle. Hint: they don’t float.

These wild goats meet the boat in the way to Pulpit Rock. Why? The crew feed them Belgian Waffles.

No, not Pulpit Rock. At this place being chased by the law, desperados jumped into the fjord thereby making a successful escape. Not much room for error I’m thinking.

Almost there. We pulled close to this waterfall so those on the bow of the ship could get a shower. Not us. Not our first rodeo.

Here we are viewing Pulpit Rock. Carol says she can see people. I can’t even see stick people. Pulpit Rock is a famous landmark in Norway. Each year millions of Lutherans and Catholics make a pilgrimage to the top holding hands singing Kumbaya. You have a better story let me know. This was the reason for our voyage on the fjord. Carol being very utilitarian about these things says it looks like a Pulpit. No more no less. I’m thinking there has to be a deeper meaning. Like: a Norwegian princess fell in love with a Viking warrior. For seven long years she climbed to the pinnacle of Pulpit Rock to declare her unrequited love...you finish the story. Ok, I’ll have a go at it. In the early days of Viking conquest a Norwegian princess named ilke fell in love with a Viking warrior named Valkerwoden. He along with his Viking brethren pillaged and plundered the village in which she lived. But, they didn’t do the other thing. Valkerwoden promised he would return from his entrepreneurial exploits and ask for her hand and the rest of her body parts in marriage. Every day for seven years Ilke climbed to the top of Pulpit Rock and declared her love for her Viking warrior. One day in the year before the year of our lord 1, standing on Pulpit Rock a Cistercian monk shattered her hopes and dreams. Valkerwoden was decapitated somewhere in England attempting to heist religious artifacts from a monastery. Nashing her teeth and emitting a bloodcurdling scream of anguish, she hurled herself off Pulpit Rock to the fjord below.

Onward to Eidfjord Norway.