Looking Fjord Beauty

For my last adventure in Norway, I wanted to see the fjords. From Oslo, there is a company that books the different modes of transportation to take you inland to the mountains, through the fjords, out to Bergen (a dutch fishing city on the Western shore of the country), and then back to Oslo via midnight train.

To say the least, the trip was worth it. I entered Oslo Central Station at 8AM to catch my first train, a modern rail way run by NSB. It was a 5 hour train ride straight through the mountains. If you wanted, you can book all of the tickets individually (and most likely cheaper).

Oslo has been a balmy 40 degrees F, which the train is happy to tell you as it ticks the temperature, stop and time to entrance. As we made our way into the mountains the temperature steadily dropped. At first the scenery was beautiful green hills speckled with patches of snow resisting the unseasonable warmth, but it didn't take much increased altitude to give way for snow. Each mile showed signs of more and more snow. Flowing rivers turned into chunky ice flows. Gray hills turned into snow dusted caps and roads were no longer plowed. The only way of transport was by train, snow mobile, or ski.

The train stopped in Myrdal (which sounds like a mythical Dwarven city), perched atop the inland mountains. It was here the train let off to get onto the Flam railway, a railroad built over centuries to carry people from the mountains into the fjord valley.

The last time they replaced the train was in the 70s. It had tacky pinks seats affixed to a wooden frames. The interior was wooden panelled, and had thick glass preventing the outside from coming in. I sat there, quietly, with a handful of other tourists, waiting to be taken into the valley below. Scenic is to say the least. We passed by frozen waterfalls at the top, through wooden bridge, and darkened tunnel. Stopping once to see the largest waterfall on the way down, Kjosfossen Waterfall.

A warm breeze started to pass by the careening train. The fjord valleys were protected from the hard Arctic breezes and maintained a more temperate 40 degrees. The snow was gone, and villages popped up. The towns made a living off of the tourists that passed through, making sure to keep a hotel open, and a bar with beer on tap. At least this was the case for Flam. It was so idyllic. Towns that looked like that came our of a different century. Dirt roads were the only way by car, and stone bridges from peoples long before made it traverse-able.

The sightseers were let out to wander around the small town of Flam, where we awaited the next leg of the trip, the fjord cruise, which was to take place on a ferry that shuttled cars and passengers to the next down, Godvangen. I amused myself by wandering the troll figure and traditional sweater filled gift shop. The ship let off a loud whistle alerting the waiting tourists to board.

I climbed up the rickety ship into the main cabin. I didn't stay long, as I found the exit out onto the upper deck, where I spent the remainder of the trip until disembarking. It was here that I was able to catch some fantastic photos of what is a UNESCO world heritage site. With Flam disappearing into the background, it was this part that I was most awestruck by.

The sun was setting on the fjord valley, allowing for the most fantastic vistas. It was simply awe inspiring. As we passed the bend, the wind picked up to a swift 30 mph head wind. Though most of the other tourists headed to the warm cabin, I found myself staring at the banks of the fjord were century old villages still remained cut off from the rest of the world. Literally, there were no roads to or from some of the isolated farm houses. The building had lived there for hundreds of years, with fish, sheep and the passing of seasons to make it worth living. And how could you beat a house situated by a roaring river fed by a cascading waterfall more and more active by the coming of spring?

I made it to Godvangen chilled, but in one piece. I started to talk to a couple there that had managed to make it here from Long Island. We chatted a bit about traveling and where to go. Most specifically they had told me the charms of Copenhagen, and Amsterdam. The woman was keen to tell me that the marijuana shops "were the best" and then laughed about it. 

They kept good company on the bus ride to Voss (yes, the same as the water), and the train ride from Voss to Bergen. I was informed of their many travels to South Africa, and Asia, giving me an interesting view of their experiences. As they put it, they called the pilot of their prop plane in Africa "Dougie Houser" because he looked no older than 15. 

The train jolted as it entered Bergen. The couple said their good bye as they scurried off to their neighboring hotel. I left the station headed in the opposite direction to find the old harbor houses. At this point, it was 8PM and the sun had already set. Luckily, the city was full of youthful night life. I caught some great architecture highlighted by the steep hills and cobbled roads. Churches dotted the old port city completing the old world charm. It was quaint.

The hours flew by as I snapped whatever photos I could squeeze in the 3 hour window until my last train straight back to Oslo. I wandered into a side street where a burger vendor was slinging late night greasy food. It also happened to be the only place where I found a non-english speaker, uncommon in Norway as English is part of primary education. I painfully made my way through the order and snacked on a burger before heading back to the station.

I decided, while slung over a bench waiting for the train, that the bigger cities just don't have the same appeal as the smaller cities, like Bergen. That night I decided that Copenhagen would be a quick stop, but Roskilde would be my primary spot in Denmark.

Norwegian Woods

In Norway, I've been told that Sundays are a day that are typically used for the family to spend time together. More often than not, this means going up to a family cabin, or just taking one of the many hiking paths scattered throughout Norway. While there is still snow on the ground, many take to the trails adorned in their best cross country skis.

Helene and I hit the trails with typical winter gear, except we were trekking with normal boots.

We started on our way to our destination, a cabin owned by a family who now opens it up to the public for refreshments and a way to warm up before heading back down or continuing through the woods. The trail was well groomed, and wide enough for skiers on both sides, as well as a large center lane for anyone that needed to climb slopes with skis on.

The whole hike was really endearing. People of all ages were speeding by us. Kids as young as maybe 3 years old were being pulled along by their parents. Young couples, or entire families; best friends, or lonesome adventurers; they were all out. I really began to understand what a culture it is to have such a strong pastime that really excluded no one.

It was scenic to say the least. We passed by birch and pine forests. Man made dams that cascaded water in streams below. Bridges, ice dams, snow capped boulders dotted the pathways. As we climbed we wound around large lakes draped in a obscuring mist.

The climb was tough, as we slogged through soft snow. Skiers own the trails. So, pedestrian hikers better move. By the time we reached the cabin, it was a little more than 4 kilometers, uphill. As promised, there was a large fire warming up tired hikers, and skiers alike. I stopped in for the national candy, Kvikk Lunsj, which is a slightly saltier, darker chocolate version of a Kit-Kat bar. I was told this is what parents incentivize their children with to make a cold and challenging hike to cabins every Sunday. I also scarfed down a sweet waffle folded over with butter and that caramel goat cheese (dairy and bread products are a theme here). I'm calling it a Norwegian lunch.

A quick bathroom break and a few swigs of water, and we were ready to head back down the path. Luckily the mist was beginning to lift, but the head wind was there the whole time. By the time we made it back to the lake, I was able to get a clear shot of it.

Exhausted, we crawled back into the car to set off back to the apartment where I could plan the next steps of my trip. Overall, we were out for maybe 3 hours, and walked 8 kilometers.

We lit up the wood stove to dry out and warm up. I should state that this is the coolest stove I have ever seen. I'll leave you all with that.

Next up, the scenic railroad and fjords.

I moustache you a question...

Post Norwegian moustache wax...

I am beginning to look like the Dad from The Wild Thornberries. Also, I'm sorry for ruining your breakfast. You're welcome, +Jeff Dishman .

The Highs and Oslos

Another day and another adventure through Oslo, Norway's capital city. In all fairness, it was my second day adventuring through the city, but I forgot to load a memory card into my camera the first day.

To start my Saturday, I accompanied Helene to her dressage lesson in Ski (the name of the town not the sport). I got to see what a proper Norwegian horse stable looks like, and I have to say, it definitely beats New England stables.

We made it back by around noon, and decided that we could head into Oslo for lunch. I was joined by my gracious host, Helene, and her friend Wibeka and Sebastian from Germany. We left from the apartment by one of the three modes of transport (bus, tram, or subway) all linked by their unified transportation pass, the #Reuter.

Two things to know about Norway: 1. Everyone seems to speak English, which makes it very easy considering their language is extremely hard to comprehend without any knowledge of Germanic languages. 2. Everything is significantly more expensive here. A coffee is around $5, and a sandwich will cost $12-15. Its definitely worth it though. The bread they sell here is just about worth the asking price for the sandwich.

Anyway, on with the trip into Oslo. We took the tram, which is an above ground rail. We sped past steep pitched roofed houses, all adorned with the traditional Norwegian embellishing.

The train made its way through the city center, halting at traffic lights and stuttering along to oncoming foot traffic. We stopped at Schous Plass (a tram stop near the Oslo downtown) where we meandered down city streets until a passed a gentleman's facial hair grooming place. I jumped at the opportunity to replace the mustache wax I left at home. The store clerk asked me if I wanted to style it like a circus entertainer or to soften the hair. I said circus entertainer.

With mustache wax in hand, we marched on to Mathallen (an indoor artisan food court). It reminded me a bit of New York's Chelsea Market. It was filled with stands serving local cheese, of which there is an abundance of, breads, and meats. We spent an hour eating a delicious duck confit sandwich and talking about where we each came from and what our future plans were.

We headed out and walked about the Grunerlokka area of Oslo. We hopped into a local tavern/bar where I finally got a taste of Norwegian beer. I'm not entirely sure what kind of beer it was, but it was heavy like a porter, but light in malts like an english ale. The taste was a bit sour giving it a slight taste of pickle juice. Not exactly the things you want to hear when describing a beer, but it wasn't bad. As we walked to our next destination, I was able to capture a couple pictures.

Warm beer and warm cocoa in our stomachs, we hopped on the train to venture off into the sea port area, otherwise known as Stortorvet, where we braved an inland breeze to snap a handful of pictures. By the time we finished, the sun was getting low on the horizon and my guides were in desperate need of a warm drink. We walked down Aker Brygge, which is a strip of high end restaurants and apartments on the harbor. We all had tea or coffee before splitting up and heading back for the night.

Before the night was over, I had one more surprise. Helene's sister studies at the national veterinarian college. We were allowed a quick glimpse of the production animal facilities they have and the systems and processes in place to make sure the farms that supply livestock to markets are actually adhering to strict standards. 

Although I have a lot to say about how nice the facilities are, and all the interesting questions I got to ask, I will instead end with the awesomeness that is getting to feed baby cows  from a bottle. 

More stories to come.

Welcome to Norway

I would have posted this yesterday, but the jet lag put me in a sleepy stupor all day.  Fortunately, I was still able to be productive most of the day, and already got to experience some interesting things already.

My initial observations are that Norway is an awful lot like the woods of New England. There are low slung mountains peering in the background, and beautiful coniferous trees dotting the landscape. It has snowed all day, laying a thin blanket on every tiled roof and tree branch. To say the least, its picturesque.

I was taken from the airport at 11AM towards downtown Oslo. Instead of making our way to the city, we detoured to the nearby mountains where an Olympic ski jump was daringly traversed by on-holiday Norwegians. A nearby house gave me an ideal overlook of Oslo, a sprawling small city covering the low land going out to the fjord.

We headed back to my host, Helene's apartment, where I was finally able to free myself of luggage, and grab an afternoon snack. I was given many interesting cheese spreads on hearty bread, which is apparently a stable (if grocery stores are any indication).

I tried ham and cheese that came out of a toothpaste tube. I had a mayonnaise-like spread that had chives in it. I had some interesting vegetable cream cheese spread. But the most interesting cheese spread I had was a traditional Norwegian goat cheese. It has the bite you expect in goat cheese, but it was sweet with a caramel flavor to it. If I could cross multiple borders with it, I would.

The rest of the day was spent visiting the sculpture park, Vigelandsparken, which is a park speckled with figures of humans.

Before returning to the apartment, we did some grocery shopping. I could read just about nothing in Norwegian. Luckily, just about everyone speaks English, which is good since many words are a string of syllables that I cannot fathom saying in the proper tongue. 

We left the grocery store with chicken, spices, eggs, and a bunch of candy I chose. I wish I had documented my taste testing, but I made quick work of most of it. I will just say that jelly, caramel and licorice is a favored flavoring. Two of those are what you would most likely discard from a chocolate box if you found them in a filling.

I cooked dinner because I'm told that Norway is not a foodies paradise, and you also pay a high premium. What do I expect from one of the most wealthy nations in Europe?

I promptly passed out at 8PM.

I'll have further observations tomorrow, and some phrases I learned. Hadet for now.