True to its roots, Hurtigruten continues to run its ferries to service the western ports of Norway. Unlike cruise ships which typically sail all night and arrive the next morning for a day in port, Hurtigruten's ships make continuous stops all along the way – day and night. Most are short in duration, long enough to exchange cargo and deliver the mail, and the ships are very adept at docking and departing quickly.

Our trip up the coast of Norway from Bergen to Tromso on the MS Midnatsol takes five days and four nights. During that time we make about 4-5 stops a day, and once a day our stay is long enough for a trip on shore. Timing is erratic – it might be first thing in the morning, it may be mid-afternoon, with sightseeing time ranging from 2.5 hours to 6. The towns are all easily accessible from the dock by foot, and are small enough to explore in a few hours.

Being both frugal and eager for some exercise off ship, we pass on the formal shore excursions. Choosing instead to walk the cities guided only by the limited information I can glean from my guidebook, we meander in search of known sights and hope to stumble on some unexpected delights. And we manage to find both.

Alesund is our first stop, a town destroyed by fire in 1904 and rebuilt in the Art Nouveau style. Its center is adorned by ornate buildings in vibrant colors, with intricate designs painted on their facades. I am immediately attracted to the viewpoint high above the city, eagerly climbing the 419 zigzagging steps required to reach it. Despite cloudy skies, the views are expansive and rewarding. Exploring the quiet streets afterwards I am able to see the detail up close and observe the local flavor. Nursing a bum leg and discovering some intriguing birds, Rich is content to pursue his own interests.

An obligatory visit to the cathedral in Trondheim might have been unremarkable had it not been for the information imparted by the robed man who greeted us inside the door. With an air of conspiracy, he shares that organists will be practicing from 10 until noon and invites us to return to hear the newly refurbished organ.

Whiling away the time before the music, we discover a delightful sight – a group of school children cross-country skiing alongside the river that runs through town. They could not be more than 7 years old, yet they fly across the snow with youthful glee and uninhibited athletic prowess. And speaking English! We learn that these youngsters are attending an international school. Their one-piece snow suits stir old childhood memories.

Once back inside the gothic cathedral, the huge silver organ pipes roared to life in fits and starts as the first organist runs through segments of his repertoire. Some of it is sonorous and dissonant, other bits more pleasing. Worth hearing, but a taste is sufficient.

Our return trip to the ship takes us through the most pleasant section of the city, an area refurbished into trendy housing and reportedly colorful eating and drinking establishments. More colorful buildings line the waterway, and I especially enjoy their distorted reflections in the water.

Not every town is particularly scenic. Bodo was almost entirely razed during World War II, hence is dominated by modern buildings of little interest. I always enjoy marinas, however, and while Rich is scouting some floating birds to photograph, I dally long enough to watch a local fisherman selling shrimp right from his boat. Very fresh! A cold wind whips through town, and with few other sights that intrigue us, we retreat to the Corner Cafe for hot chocolate, Diet-Coke and apple cake. Indeed a welcome respite.

Stranded in the mountains, snow falling steadily, a white lunar landscape in all directions. Our train is stalled by the lack of electricity up ahead. I might have expected this in a third world country. But not in Norway.

The journey from Oslo to Bergen is billed as one of the most beautiful train rides. We were there in plenty of time to schlep all our gear aboard and settle into the comfortable seats surrounded by modern conveniences – wifi, electric outlets and windows on the world. The ride was smooth and soothing, even if the falling snow obliterated the long range views of the mountains. It was still the magical trip we envisioned. We could see backcountry skiers trudging through the snow. We had front row seats to the small villages along the way.

Our smug sense of security vanishes at the sound of the announcer's voice as he intones “All passengers please pay attention.” The train soon comes to a halt at a tiny station in Haugastol, where we sit awaiting our fate. Will the power outage be resolved, or must alternate transport be arranged? Rumors fly in the absence of any real data.

The arrival of a bus, followed shortly by others answers our question. Apparently we are in luck, these tour buses are idle in the winter months. We are further heartened to learn that all Hurtigruten passengers are to board the first bus. We are surrounded by other Norwegian ferry cruise passengers as we fill the seats, now confident that we will make our sailing. It helps knowing that the MS Midnatsol does not depart until 10:30pm. The atmosphere is one of amused tolerance and camaraderie, not annoyance. Through our mutual plight we make new friends.

It turns out the bus is only the first requirement for travel. Before we can start, we collect a snowplow which precedes us down the mountain, clearing the snowy roads as we go. We take turns with the vehicles traveling in the opposite direction – with their own snowplow – following the single open lane. It is barren country with few trees and mountain cottages seemingly stranded in the snow, with tree branches “planted” in the snow to show the way to their doors. Progress is slow.

By the time we reach lower altitudes and can release the plow, the road clears but becomes steep and windy. Now we are surrounded by rocky cliffs covered in icy waterfalls. It is dramatic scenery, far different from what we would have seen on the train. We know it is a silver lining.

It takes hours longer to reach Bergen, but no one is complaining. Our transfer bus is awaiting when we arrive, and we board the ship without delay. Our bags are already outside our cabin door.

We have plenty of time to explore the ship, linger over dinner and go up on deck before our departure. In the end the day was all the more memorable for being derailed in Norway.