Flam, Norway - Third port stop aboard MSC Euribia
Almost otherworldly silently pulsating with tales of old, the mist blanketed the mammoth mountains hovering over the ship. 
As MSC Euribia sailed into Flam, I stood on my balcony absorbing the scene. While I knew many had seen this view, in that moment I was transported back in time and was the first to gaze upon this wonder. I knew what my eyes were seeing, but it was still difficult to make that connect, such was the awesome beauty. Transfixed, the land got closer and my reverie was finally broken when the ship docked.
Out on deck, it seemed if all 6000 passengers were in the same stunned state, turning their heads to take in this perfect postcard view, that seemed more like a living painting than actual organic material. I could have happily stayed here all day and just be one with this magnificence.
The most beautiful journey
It’s no wonder Flam has been a popular tourist spot since the 19th Century, and one of the most popular attractions is the Flåmsbana Railway Line. Connecting the village with Norway's main rail artery from Oslo to Bergen, a visit to Flam is not complete without an excursion on the world's steepest standard-gauge railway lines. And, I’d say most of the passengers on MSC Euribia felt the same way.
I must say, despite the sheer number of people who booked the Flåmsbana Railway shore excursion, it was all very well organised. After a short walk to the train station, I boarded the first of two trains that would take the eager tourists high up the mountain.
If you’ve ever tried to take photos or video through a train window, spattered with rain, you know it’s near impossible to get a good image. I tried for the first 20 minutes, but it was futile. However, this actually turned out to be a blessing in disguise; too often we experience life through a lens, (yes, I’m a culprit), and these not-so-favourable conditions for photography forced me to put down the camera and actually see the enchanting backdrop with my eyes.
There was a constant light drizzle which made the scenery appear even more magical, mystical almost. The ever-changing view was captivating, and I feared looking away for a moment, not wanting to miss the cascading waterfalls, deep gorges and enchanting homes, nestled in the valleys.
As we departed Flam, the feeling of utter serenity took over as the ship slowly glided through the fjord. Rugged, untamed and almost foreboding, the journey was silent and powerful. I felt a little melancholy that it would be a long time – if ever – that I would see this place again.
A heavy mist once more blanketed the mountains that protected the fjord. We were only visitors, permitted to be a part of this magnificence for only a while. Further and further the ship sailed, the mountains overlapping, leaving little room for the dying embers of sun to penetrate. I stood there until the green turned grey and the grey tuned black, the formidable hills indistinguishable from the now inky sky.
Village of rainbows
After an hour, then a change in trains, and another hour the journey ended in Voss. Contrary to popular belief, this isn’t where Voss Water is sourced (it’s actually bottled 400km away). A buffet lunch was included as part of the shore excursion, and then I had some free time to explore this quaint town. I’ll forever associate this pretty place with rainbows – something about the altitude, drizzle and air produced the most dazzling rainbows I’ve ever seen.
Another standout was the old stone church, built by King Magnus in the 13th Century. I’m always amazed when travelling in Europe the age of the buildings that still stand and the history they hold.
A short coach ride followed with a stop at Gudvangen, a small village nestled at the inner part of the narrow Nærøyfjorden. I could almost hear the echoes of Viking ships returning from battle.
A Flam farewell
As we departed Flam, the feeling of utter serenity took over as the ship slowly glided through the fjord. Rugged, untamed and almost foreboding, the journey was silent and powerful. I felt a little melancholy that it would be a long time – if ever – that I would see this place again.
A heavy mist once more blanketed the mountains that protected the fjord. We were only visitors, permitted to be a part of this magnificence for only a while. Further and further the ship sailed, the mountains overlapping, leaving little room for the dying embers of sun to penetrate. I stood there until the green turned grey and the grey tuned black, the formidable hills indistinguishable from the now inky sky.
