PICTUREBOOK Criss Cross Ferry Cruise: Løve Bru to OSLO

♫♪♫ Reisen & Freunde
PICTURE BOOK: Criss Cross Ferry Cruise: Løve Bru to Oslo
Deutsche Leitkultur Blog by Christian Raum
Berlin, January 6th 2021

Questa è la patria dei vichinghi. I vichinghi glorificano i balenieri e le navi, e le rune e gli arpune fanno parte della loro eredità nazionale. Sickboy ed io abbiamo pagato il nostro rispetto per la flotta baleniera norvegese. Ed è arrivato il fiordo di Oslo un po ‚più tardi.

This is Viking’s Homeland. Vikings glorify Whalers and Ships, and Runes and Harpunes are part of their national heritage. Sickboy and myself paid our respect for the Norwegian Whaling Fleet. And arrived the Oslo Fjord a little later.

Inside a small park Viking’s World War II trophy is displayed. The anchor of the Admiral Blücher battleship. It was sent out by German facist to raid and plunder Oslo, but was destroyed in a breathtaking Oscar-The-Viking-Fortress vs. Oskar-the-German-Pradator-Seabattle.

Hundreds life were lost and women’s and men’s bodies lie rotten and unburied inside the battleship’s steel wreck.

Not to surprising it was ferry #13 of my Criss-Cross-Ferry-Cruise shipping me over the Oslo sund. Me continued cycling North and boarded #14 to Oslo itself. In Oslo I get prepared for my way back to Berlin.

Please click on the pictures to read the captions 🙂

„Pull up—pull up!“ he now cried to the bowsman, as the waning whale relaxed in his wrath. „Pull up!—close to!“ and the boat ranged along the fish’s flank. When reaching far over the bow, Stubb slowly churned his long sharp lance into the fish, and kept it there, carefully churning and churning, as if cautiously seeking to feel after some gold watch that the whale might have swallowed, and which he was fearful of breaking ere he could hook it out. But that gold watch he sought was the innermost life of the fish. And now it is struck; for, starting from his trance into that unspeakable thing called his „flurry,“ the monster horribly wallowed in his blood, overwrapped himself in impenetrable, mad, boiling spray, so that the imperilled craft, instantly dropping astern, had much ado blindly to struggle out from that phrensied twilight into the clear air of the day Source: The Project Gutenberg EBook of Moby Dick; or The Whale, by Herman Melville