In a land of fishing, reindeer herding, and tourism, we were headed to the northernmost point in Europe.
Our familiar blue dot made its way through the various straits, headed to Honnigsvag and a bus ride up to Nordkapp (the North Cape).
Racks with drying cod were along the road, cod destined for mainly for Spain and Portugal as bacalao (known as klippfisk in Norwegian). The Norwegians harvest cod in winter. It’s only when it is also fermented that it is known as lutefisk.
On our way, we had passed the northernmost gas station and the northernmost supermarket.
At great risk of being blown 1,000 feet off the cliff and into the sea, we tourists braced ourselves for the obligatory photo at the marker.
But, it was breathtaking.
As were the views on the way back to our ship.