Wake

Somehow I expected that I’d have got bored by the lumpen, spiky, crumpled, delicate, humped, folded, frozen, sun-blessed rocks and mountains by the time we were seeing them all again on the way back but I’m still entranced by the shapes that shift as we pass (extras, including the formation that lithops were named for). 

As we draw closer to Bergen I begin to think about hiding places on the boat where I could stow away and do it all again. But I don’t, of course. We dock, we leave, like sensible grown-ups, we do a detour to see the warehouses of the Hanseatic League on Bryggen, we catch the tram to the airport, we check in, we board, we fly home and we catch the bus back to the ordinary.