Cruising from Trondheim to Bergen

This morning, it was a ship's blast that we heard as we left Trondheim on a 24-hour cruise down the coast to Bergen. It's been a delightfully lazy day drifting past the beautiful Norwegian shoreline while reading  and relaxing, a nice trip midpoint bit of non-activity.

I'm reading a book about voyages of women writers, mostly in the 18th and 19th centuries, when it was rare for a woman to travel, particularly  alone. In 1878, Mary Fontaine traveled the world in search of butterflies. Ethel Brilliana Tweedy rode horseback across Iceland to see the geysers, challenging the social mores that made women ride side saddle. At the time, many people claimed it was not only unladlike, but also unhealthy. Ethel wrote what rubbish that was, saying side saddle increased fatigue and stress -- for horses as well as for women. In the 18th century, women's rights activist, Mary Wellstonecraft, traveled to Scandinavia critiquing government,  church, and penal system. So many more, that's just a few examples.

In the lounge, I sat by a woman reading an Elizabeth Strout book in  Norwegian. We started chatting about the book and her book club, then discovered we're both retired librarians. We then discussed libraries and book banning, and she gave me several Norwegian writers to try. Lastly, she told us about the moose in her son's garden, but sadly couldn't find the pic to show us.

Doug asked if there's a way to curtail some chatting with strangers, but he also admitted that we learn some interesting things because I do. Besides, I told him he should travel with my cousin Lorraine  (who is reading this) who not only chats a few minutes, but ends up knowing numerous details of the stranger's life -- such as one man's daughter's dissertation topic. (That really happened. I was a witness.) 

After mentioning the birdsong in the cemetery yesterday, I read in the Washington Post today that listening to bird songs is a good way to improve one's mental health. No wonder it made me happy.

So listen to more birds, my friends.