07-11-2026 Another Greenland Port, Nanortalik

First view of Nanortalik through the fog

By the time we reached Nanortalik the next morning, we were beginning to settle into the rhythm of Greenland. The excitement of our first landing had given way to quiet anticipation as another small community emerged from the morning fog.

Our excursion was an early one. By the time we entered the Star Theater at 7:15 a.m., our room-service coffee had kicked in, and we were ready. By then I had learned not to attempt the stairs with my walker. Instead, I took the elevator down to Deck A, where our group was debarking.

We wore many layers. I hate being cold, and the foggy morning was a chilly 47 degrees. Long underwear, Cuddl Duds from Melody, WoolX tights and a long-sleeved shirt, my down jacket, and Melody's Lands' End raincoat. Of course, I added my REI rain pants. Our hats were still wet from the previous day's rain, so I wore a little fleece headband that I had tucked into my suitcase at the last minute.

Interior of the Viking tender

I decided to include a photo of the Viking tender.  Of all the cruises Mo and I have been onm, we have never been on a tender that was so clean and sparkly.  Everything was spotless, and just like the previous tender landing everyone made sure I got in without difficulty and my walker was tied down in the middle space so it wouldn't roll around in transit.  One of the nice little touches of this Viking Cruise.

I didn't keep good notes so I am not sure of the title of this group of buildings

Like so many places along Greenland's rugged coast, Nanortalik seemed to exist in harmony with the sea, surrounded by rock, water, and an immense sense of space. It was smaller than Qaqortoq and somehow even quieter. At least it wasn't raining. The fog made everything feel mysterious, almost magical.

I don't rememer the name of this church that was closed

The walk from the tender was easy enough, and the roads through the tiny community were mostly level, making it a little easier for me to manage the walker while dodging the occasional pothole and rock.

The tide was out, leaving seaweed draped along the little bay beside the harbor. We found the same thick, lush grass we had seen the day before, but this time there were even more tiny flowers. 

Buttercups seemed to be everywhere, and then, tucked among them, I spotted a small patch of Iceland poppies. Here? In Greenland? Blooming in July?

Nanotortalik felt quiet and mystical in the fog

Tiny saxifrage blossoms added splashes of color, along with little daisies whose petals looked as though they had been battered by the rain.

Once again we walked across smooth outcrops of glacier-polished bedrock, softened by mosses and lichens. Many of the older buildings appeared almost abandoned, and I found myself wondering whether anyone still lived in them.

As we walked along, a lovely couple was struggling to take a selfie, so I offered to take their picture. Of course they returned the favor, and Mo and I ended up with a photograph that made us laugh out loud. Bundled in all our layers, we looked like two Michelin doughboys...but we were warm. Well...mostly. Our hands were another matter. Something told me I might be shopping for gloves once we reached Iceland.

The face in the rock was instantly visible when we turned the right way

On the way back to the dock, we met a sweet older gentleman who pointed out a rock with a face hidden in it. After thanking him, I asked how to say "thank you" in Greenlandic. He laughed, said the word slowly, and then smiled. "Think of cognac...sort of." I gave it my best attempt, which made him laugh even harder. Our cruise director had specifically asked us not to photograph local people, so I simply carried away the memory instead.

We were fortunate. The rain held off until later that morning, while many of the passengers on the later excursions returned completely soaked.

Somehow I have forgotten many of the names of the buildings we saw, and much of the history.  My memory here is as blurry as the fog that enveloped the tiny town.  

Someone actually used to live in this turf house

But I haven't forgotten what it felt like to walk there, the chill, the freshness of the damp air, the colorful flowers.  I can always go back and look up the "stuff" about Nanortalik, but what I want to remember is how it felt to walk there.

Back aboard Viking Neptune, we peeled off a few layers, settled into the Explorer's Lounge with cappuccinos, and enjoyed a little quiet time before walking back to the pool deck to pick up some lunch from the Pool Grill.  

The cheese steak sandwich was huge and delicious, and the french fries were perfect almost as good as what we remember from chips in Ireland.  We split the sandwich and wandered the ship awhile before settling in at the Explorer's Lounge. 

Heavy rain on the roof of the Pool Bar as we begin sailing toward Iceland

Here we waited for the magical experience we still were not sure would happen, hopefully we would transit the wild and beautiful Prince Christian Sound. 

Our last view of Nanortalik, Greenland, as we sail for Iceland