Cruise

So Far From Home, Yet So Familiar: Along the British Isles with Viking

Article & photography by Pat Lee

Although many of us travel to immerse ourselves in differences, sometimes it’s the familiar that resonates most.

“Wow, does that ever remind me of home,” I said a minimum of 100 times (give or take) during a breathtaking 15-day voyage around the British Isles aboard the Viking Star, one of Viking Ocean Cruises’ elegant ships that carry under 1,000 passengers.

The itinerary, a bucket-list cruise for many travelers, traced a wide arc through England, Ireland, Wales, Northern Ireland and Scotland before concluding in Norway. At ports large and small, history, landscape and culture combined to create a sense of déjà vu that followed me from start to finish.

From windswept cliffs and fishing villages to musical traditions and shared histories, Northern Europe is not surprisingly reminiscent of my home in eastern Canada. I live in Nova Scotia, a name that literally translates to New Scotland, and it isn’t hard to imagine why so many early settlers, often fleeing poverty, land clearances or political upheaval, crossed the Atlantic and no doubt felt a sense of familiarity when they arrived.

Seeing the craggy coastlines and rolling green highlands of places like Cape Breton Island, one can easily understand how newcomers may have believed they hadn’t really left home at all.

These observations come with an important acknowledgement that European settlers did not “discover” the Americas, nor were they the first to recognize the land as rich for fishing, farming or settlement. Many would not have survived without the assistance, knowledge and generosity of Indigenous peoples who had lived on and stewarded those lands for thousands of years. The cultural connections between Europe and Atlantic Canada are layered and complex.

The first hints of home appeared even before the Viking Star pulled away from port in Greenwich, England. Moored for the first two nights on the River Thames, just downriver from central London, the ship placed us close to historic parks like serene Greenwich Park, which is home to the Prime Meridian and Royal Observatory, along with tidy, winding streets lined with cafés and shops.

The borough is also steeped in maritime history. It is home to the beautifully restored tea clipper Cutty Sark and the National Maritime Museum, which houses extensive records and ship models tied to transatlantic trade and exploration. Among them are references to Halifax-born shipping magnate Samuel Cunard, whose Cunard Line helped shape passenger travel between Europe and North America.

While browsing Greenwich Market, another unexpected connection surfaced when we found a vender selling a badge from the Nova Scotia Highlanders, a reserve unit formed in 1871 that has served in two world wars and Afghanistan.

Not everything, of course, felt familiar. Several cafés advertised pies, peas and eels, a traditional working-class dish served with jellied or stewed eels, once cheap and plentiful in the Thames. There were no takers in our group.

The spectacular sunset that greeted us as we pulled away from Greenwich was a great harbinger of what was to come.

Viking was a great choice for this itinerary as it meandered throughout the region and took passengers to many small, not as often visited communities.

Known for being adult only, offering included daily excursions and sleek Scandinavian design, Viking Star and the cruise line’s other ocean-going vessels offer many on-board dining and activity options, like their delightful Scandinavian-inspired goodies at Mamsen’s in the Explorer’s Lounge, the daily afternoon high tea, or a complimentary session at the LivNordic Spa, an authentic Scandinavian wellness experience focusing on the hot-cold-relax thermal cycle.

Some days it was hard to leave the relaxing comfort of the ship, but as we glided past the iconic White Cliffs of Dover and traversed the English Channel and made our way north to Ireland (hello Dún Laoghaire, pronounced ‘dun-leery’, a suburb of Dublin), we also looked forward to Holyhead, Wales, a historic port linking Britain and Ireland.

As it happened, it was my second time visiting Wales that year, so I was ready to be bowled over by the feels-like-home views, especially standing cliffside at the South Stack Cliffs RSPB nature reserve on the northwest coast of Anglesey, Wales.

As the kittiwakes and guillemots swooped and swirled off the steep embankments, I was reminded of the sea birds of Atlantic Canada who also nest on craggy seaside cliffs, as I looked out over the Irish Sea and in the general direction of home.

The moment was sweetened further when our naturalist guide passed around her mother’s homemade Welsh cakes, lightly spiced and studded with currants, from plastic container. The humble treat, ubiquitous across Wales, felt like something a neighbour might offer back home.

Our stop in Belfast also had a very tangent connection to Canada’s East Coast. A titanic one, you might say.

The city in Northern Ireland was where the doomed Titanic was built and an entire tourism industry has been created around the 1912 disaster that occurred off the coast of Newfoundland, including a museum, memorial garden and dedicated tours.

Halifax, a major staging area for a hopeful rescue, has also built an industry around the tragedy, including tours to the cemetery where of some passengers are buried and a museum display.

For many fellow cruisers, our stop in Liverpool was a highlight thanks to the city’s deep association with the Beatles. But for me, anticipation was building for the days ahead in Scotland, where the sense of shared heritage would be strongest.

The first of five Scottish port calls brought us to Ullapool, a tiny fishing village about 70 kilometres north of Inverness. On one of Viking’s included walking tours, our guide casually mentioned that the local museum contained a small exhibit on early Nova Scotia settlers. That was all the invitation I needed.

Inside the modest stone building, I lingered over a display recounting the story of 189 Highlanders who left Ullapool in 1773 aboard the ship Hector. Forced from their lands during the Highland Clearances, when sheep became more profitable than people, they endured a gruelling 11-week Atlantic crossing before landing in Pictou, marking the first major wave of Scottish settlement in the region. Their legacy remains deeply woven into Nova Scotia’s cultural fabric, from place names like Inverness and Aberdeen to the continued teaching of Gaelic and the vibrant Scottish-inspired music scene, particularly in Cape Breton.

On the Orkney Islands in northern Scotland, I swapped out my walking shoes for an e-bike to see the gorgeous sights, including windswept fields leading down to the water’s edge, with herds of sheep and cattle hanging out in the pastures as we whizzed by.

The Orkneys are an archipelago of 70 small islands with 20 of them inhabited and known for Norse heritage and neolithic sites. We moored at Kirkwall, the centre of Mainland, the largest of the islands.

With e-bikes and tour expertise provided by E-Tour Orkney owner Daniel Hourston, one of our stops included a tour of Barony Mill, the last water-powered mill in the world still grinding bere barley into beremeal flour using ancient Norse methods.

The Orkneys’ peace was a welcome contrast to Edinburgh, which was buzzing with energy during the Edinburgh Fringe Festival where street performers filled every corner and crowds surged through the historic Royal Mile.

In beautiful Aberdeen, knowns as the granite City for its enduring grey stone buildings, we happened upon a wedding procession led by a piper outside the cathedral at the University of Aberdeen.

The bagpipes are not an unfamiliar sound to visitors to Nova Scotia as well in the summer months with pipers entertaining visitors at the iconic Peggy’s Cove Lighthouse, at the visitor’s centre at the Nova Scotia-New Brunswick boarder and at the annual Royal Nova Scotia Tattoo.

Our final stop in Scotland, and last within the British Isles, was on the pastoral Shetland Islands, arriving in Lerwick. Best known for their native ponies and for the popular long-running crime drama Shetland, the islands offered yet another blend of rugged beauty and unexpected charm.

During a wander through town, we encountered the famous Little Miss Goatee, proudly standing with dad, Tom Jeromson, on a ledge outside the Love from Shetland shop, co-owned with his wife, Esther.

Wearing her trademark tiara, Little Miss Goatee is the third generation of smile-inducing goats to greet visitors and raise funds for the local lifeboat station and an MRI for the islands, a small, joyful symbol of community spirit.

As the Viking Star sailed north toward Norway, I realized that what had made this journey so powerful wasn’t simply the scenery or history, but the threads that stitched continents together.

From windswept cliffs and working harbours to shared songs, stories and stubborn resilience, the British Isles felt less like a distant destination and more like a long-lost relative.

https://www.viking.com