Nobody likes to see a good thing end. But it's always nice to finish on a high note. Such was our last day cruising up the coast of Norway.

This ship's full itinerary takes it up over the top of Norway, almost to Russia. Indeed some passengers cruise all the way up from Bergen and back again. But we chose to stop at Tromso for a few days on land instead. So it was time to savor our final hours sailing through the islands and fjords.

We rose before dawn, hoping for a good sunrise. Crisp and cold out on deck, we were rewarded with dramatic color. At this high latitude the sun never gains much height in the sky, but it continued to grace us from its low angle through the day.

The mountains still lined our passageway, now entirely snow covered. On some, we could see the clear delineation between forest and pure white above the tree line. The rocks receded into deep, gleaming white depths. Craggy peaks alternated with smooth rounded high expanses. The water was calm in the protected waters we plied, the only wind that of the moving ship. Mesmerizing, relaxing, soothing.

Despite our remote location, communities still abounded on the shoreline. As did individual homesteads. There is no limit to the draw that water has on people. No matter the location, they are still attracted to reside adjacent to its glistening surface.

Our bags packed and stashed under the stairway, we schlepped our shoulder bags with us around the ship. The impending finale hung over us. It was time to say goodbye to this portion of our adventure and move on to the next. We migrated onto land, but not away from the water. We're now in port, but the view from our hotel room is much the same as from on deck. We haven't left Norway's coast, just made our final Arctic approach.

If you're looking for a swanky cruise ship, this isn't it. This Hurtigruten vessel, the MS Midnatsol, is a hybrid, providing cargo and ferry service along Norway's west coast as well as catering to tourists. And while we may be referred to as cruise passengers, we are a unique breed.

If you want to fit in, there are a few simple guidelines. Leave behind your formal dress. There is no need to change for dinner, jeans are de rigueur. Don't fret over trendy footwear. Boots reign here. Well dressed means sporting a serious winter jacket. Fashion accessories imply a stocking cap and heavy mitts. Comfort and warmth are most important when traveling the coast of Norway in mid-winter. We are a supremely practical group of travelers.

There is a high population of fine cameras, elongated lenses and binoculars among these folks. The up-close views of the fjords, the mountains and the rugged beauty draw us out on deck at all times of day. We are here to see it, photograph it and marvel in its wonder. No matter that the wind is fierce, the temperature chilly and the sun scarce. We will still be out there.

This sailing caters to those eager to see the Northern Lights. Living with an Aurora Hunter, I already know this is not for the faint of heart. Late night hours, false alarms, waiting out in the cold and enduring all weather conditions are par for the course. Our first night on the ship, Rich detected a minor aurora merely by looking out our cabin window. Soon we were out on deck, swaddled in down and battling the wind at the prow of the ship at 2:30am. We were alone in that pursuit, but had the display been more dramatic, we would have had plenty of company.

What this ship lacks, we don't miss. We cheer the absence of a casino. Evening shows are non-existent. On this voyage, the scenery is the entertainment. We certainly have no need for a swimming pool, although there are two hot tubs outside on the top deck (and I noted its occupants wearing knit hats). The small size of the ship means we begin to recognize many people on board, and quickly strike up friendships.

Touring its nine decks, we are soon familiar with the important amenities on board. Deck six has a promenade all the way around, nine features a large outdoor space. Both are handy for viewing and photography.

Our stateroom is probably half the size of that on our previous “real” cruise. But we still have plenty of space and storage. And although twin bunks are not our idea of cozy sleeping arrangements, we can manage for four nights.

I think everyone likes to complain about food, but I find our meals very palatable. Breakfast is predictably Norwegian. An abundance of cold meats and cheeses with hearty breads and not a sweet in sight is typical. Plenty of cooked options abound, keeping Rich happy, and the muesli with dried fruits and nuts is ample fuel to see me through the day.

Despite our casual apparel, dinner is served in a formal manner with assigned tables and two seatings. Thank heavens we are given the first at 6:30. Our three courses have been preselected for us, and are identical to all the other dinners in the room. But the appetizer, main and dessert have yet to disappoint and feature local foods. Few cruise ships can make that claim, and I appreciate the regional flavor.

For the armchair tourist or simply for some downtime, there are ample lounges to accommodate indoor viewing. A favorite is the large two-level space at the front of the ship. With enormous forward and side facing windows, the passing scenery is available in all directions.

Just for the record, there is a bargain to be found on board ship. At just $5 per day for a 3-day wifi package, we are online in no time. Our past cruise ship charged more than that per minute. Or so it seemed.

When it comes right down to it, we fit in here. These are our kind of people, out for the experience not the luxury. We're loving the Hurtigruten way of cruising.

It's only an imaginary line. But since crossing it, our whole voyage has changed.

We passed the Arctic Circle at 7:26 this morning. From our cabin we could see the globe marker on a tiny island, designating that northern latitude. Overnight the landscape had been transformed to snow covered peaks dominating the background, with rugged terrain near shore. No longer were there brown open patches of grass. And the scattered enclaves of buildings looked especially remote. It was the definition of stark beauty.

Heightening the drama, the sun was just beginning to rise above the peaks. That scarce source of light had been eluding us until now, and its appearance was most welcome. Soon the snowy peaks were rimmed with a golden glow. The glacial mountain sides illuminated by the low early light. And blue sky reigned up above. It was a whole new world.

I will admit to witnessing this beauty from the seat of a bicycle. A stationary one at that, pressed up against the windows on the starboard side, facing the sunrise. Alone in the minuscule fitness center, I had a front row seat to the continually changing scene. While I knew I was missing the perfect opportunity to photograph this phenomenon, having committed to this workout I pedaled on, my eyes rooted to the display. I knew that Rich would not let this pass without capturing it, and rationalized that his photos would be far superior to mine. And with 45 minutes dedicated to this bicycle seat I would remain attentive to the scenery rather than trying to compose photographs, missing the live presentation. It was one of the most picturesque bike rides I've ever taken. And Rich came through with stellar photographs.

The morning was perfect for roaming the decks. The landscape changed constantly. Fishing boats, ferries and even a sailboat came into view. The light was constantly shifting. And the sun felt so good. This was what we came to do, and it was easy to while away the hours moving in and out of the sun and wind in search of more sights. Everything was so much more dramatic in the sunlight.

The Arctic Circle landmark did not go unmarked by the ship's crew, who staged an appearance by Neptune. Arriving with his trident, he and the ship's captain initiated the brave in a legendary ceremony from the deep. We knew it involved some strong spirits, but being allowed to imbibe first required a shivering cold dousing with a ladle of watery ice cubes down the back. Some participants were brought forward unwillingly, but Rich knowingly succumbed to the torchure. I kept well out of range until the frigid ingredients were exhausted, choosing instead a timid pose with Neptune.

For this trip, the Arctic Circle was the weather's dividing line between blasé and brilliant. It was well worth crossing.

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.