Heidi Watts

BURSTS FROM NORWAY Satur day, June 20 - On the cruise ship from Trondheim to Bergen with Alison Rocks and more rocks, some the size of mountains, sea and fantastic sky drama, big fluffy white clouds, skinny black clouds, sun, rain and something in between: the scene changes on the half hour: Norway by boat. Amazing! Tuesday, June 23 Norway has been wonderful though not always as expected. I underestimated the grandeur of a changing sky when visible over ocean, and the sky did change, constantly. Sometimes glowering, sometimes sunny and serene, sometimes sending down sheets of rain, followed by brilliant sun rays, and once I glimpsed a rainbow between two huge black cliffs. This isn’t a big cruise ship, like the ocean liners with little compartments for 5000 people, and all the essentials, like buffets, cafes and bars; beauty parlors and saunas; movies and live entertainment; shops- every one   selling down jackets at $150.00 and beautiful Norwegian sweater...

We did our kagels by riding on an elephant. The elephant, her name was Pavan, put her right foot down, and we swayed to the right. Then, ponderously, she lifted her right foot and put down the left. We shifted to the left. Then she lifted her left foot and put down her right foot. And so it went, slide to the right, slide to the left, slide to the right again, swing and sway with Annie May.…. Meanwhile I was sitting upright, clutching back pack, binoculars, dark glasses and phone-camera squashed between two iron rails, one for me to hang onto, one for Miriam behind me. I sat just behind the mahout who worked the elephant like a sled, one foot behind each ear. He had an iron prod but he used the blunt end to scratch Pavan’s head from time and she twitched her big fringed ears in appreciation. Pavan had no sense of propriety. She paused from time to time to break off a branch and devour it, chomp, chomp, chomp, and once to poop. Pavan, I just learned, is the name of a slow dance. ...

I met my nephew, Oliver, at a hotel by the port in Reykjavik. Oliver publishes an idiosyncratic magazine called Fourth Door and he was here at the invitation of The Icelandic Design Center to cover a conference. I was just along for the ride. We explored the city streets for a while before I went off to “an extremely nice room” in a nearby Airbnb. The “extremely nice room” had an extremely nice window looking out into the neighbor’s yard. I could hear the cars passing outside as they crunched on the fine black sand spread against the accumulating night ice. During the night the extremely nice window rattled enthusiastically as the wind raged outside. Oliver was mostly busy at his conference so we had signed me up for “The Golden Globe Tour” a day long bus trip to some of the more dramatic sites outside the city: the site of the first parliament in 1200, a great plain between sheer black cliffs, streaked with melting snow; a magnificent waterfall, rival to Niagara, dressed in ...