Buckle up, kiddies - it's time for another road trip.
As my my loyal readers may recall (yes, all three of you), a trip a few years ago brought me to the rugged terrain of Iceland, where I spend a week driving around the Ring Road with my mouth agape. Keen to visit somewhere else I could drive around to my heart's content in the freezing cold, Norway seemed to be the obvious choice. Alex was initially skeptical, but after doing a bit of research, was fully on board.
After some time spent in Dublin and Copenhagen (to come at a later date), we flew into Oslo to spend a few days exploring Norway's capital city. I've never been a fan of huge cities, but Oslo was fairly walkable, and by walkable I mean most of it was under construction and we got from place to place by hopping over concrete barriers and crossing a few streets like a really awkward game of Frogger, we made it from our hotel to the Oslo Opera House.
Not only is it a fairly unique-looking building, but it's
built such that you are able to easily climb up onto
the roof. The folks at the Lincoln Memorial in the
states were not so forgiving.
Walking down the other side - there's nothing really
there over which to trip, yet I somehow managed
to trip more than a few times during our descent.
We took a meandering path around town just to check
out a few of the sights. Here's a church! Multiply this
by eleventy-billion and you have the rest of Norway.
Our walk also brought us to the Royal Palace - not
surprisingly, also under construction.
Alex poses by some flowers.
Having gotten our fill of the palace, we walked back
down the main drag toward the city center.
The front of the Stortinget, the parliament building
of Norway. I think it's actually a miniature Colosseum
where they pit politician against politician in bloody
battles to settle disputes.
Stomachs rumbling, we walked out of the games store where they had many out-of-production Lego sets for sale (rather, I was 'strongly encouraged' to leave), and began to look for dinner. We found it in the form of Statholdergaarden, a two-part restaurant - we took the underground part, and were in for a real treat. They welcomed our walk-in reservation, and we were seated in some arching cave-like rooms below ground.
Probably eyeing the waiter bringing my wine over.
Starting off with some soft, crusty bread + spreads
and a glass of wine.
salmon with a sort of cold gazpacho on the side.
Delicious.
jus and sweet potato puree. Yum.
dotted with Daim bits. So good.
Quite content, we took the short walk back to our apartment. Oslo was a surprisingly quiet city in the evening, and it was only when we walked by the central train station that the massive of people and noise were apparent.
The following morning, we had some other walks planned, and headed back in the direction we had started the previous day. Grey and pregnant clouds hovered overhead, but it hadn't quite started to rain at this point. As we walked, the stonework on the side of a building provided a fitting frame for some street art that added a splash of color to the surrounds.
Ode to Amy Winehouse?
The Bird. Singular.
Don't mean a thing if it ain't got dat swing.
I believe this one is called 'Help My Head Is
Exploding And Birds And Flowers And Plants
Are Coming Out Of It,' or, 'Now What?'
Oslo has this great deal where you can pay a flat fee (something like $10 pp) and you get access to a handful of museums across the city. The first museum didn't tell us this, and we threw away our stickers after leaving without knowing we had to keep them. The woman at the second museum (contemporary art) expressed her annoyance that other museums didn't tell us this, refunded our second $10 pp after we'd paid, and gave us a fresh set of stickers. There is hope for humanity after all.
We first went to the National Gallery, which houses art by several well-known artists, not least of all, Munch (who famously painted The Scream). Sadly, photography was not allowed in that particular room for whatever reason (it has been stolen a few times, I believe), but everything else was fair game.
Man and Woman from Picasso's blue period.
A Self Portrait by van Gogh.
Life imitates art.
There were a fair few interesting pieces on display, and we spent a good deal of time wandering around. Our next stop was the Museum of Contemporary Art. Housed in a massive building, it was deceptively small inside, with only a few exhibits on display. But of couple of them were unique enough to warrant the price of admission.
This was one - more explained below.
I like interactive displays - I think that's why I loved the MONA so much in Tasmania. For this one, Inner Space V. The Target, you walked up a set of narrow, claustrophobia-inducing metal stairs in a narrow corridor, the metal flexing and groaning with each step. Once you reach the top, you turn left, walk down another short, narrow, metal hallway to a small cylindrical room. In the center is a grate lit below by a blinding light. There's no sound except for your own breathing and the occasional shifting of the metallic cocoon around you. All in all, it was pretty cool.
And one other that bears noting:
Lots of little tiny objects.
The more time you spent in this one, the more astounding it became. The Garbage Man (The Man Who Never Threw Anything Away) was three small interconnected rooms that could have been a very cramped apartment, only the walls were covered with boards and bottles and small drawers FULL of random little objects. Nothing was left out. Bits of string, buttons, lint, pieces of food, pieces of anything, really. All meticulously attached and labeled. There was nowhere near enough time to read all of them, but it was fascinating to browse.
After glancing at a few other pieces, we left the museum and made for Akershus Fortress, a medieval castle and prison dating back to the 1200s. Some of the rooms were surprisingly welcoming, and official banquets are still hosted there to this day. We opted for the audio tour, and as such, received a bit of a history lesson along the way. We had long left the fortress before I realized I'd been duped into learning something.
Cannons outside the walls of the main fortress.
The main courtyard inside the fortress walls.
It was lunch time by this point, so we grabbed a quick bite to eat along the water, and changed our heading toward Frogner Park. The park is home to 212 bronze statues, all designed by Gustav Vigeland. They are all in fairly nontraditional poses featuring nude men, women, and babies. It was a bit surreal to walk through them, but great to see.
A couple of gentlemen having your standard
conversation. No big deal.
The bridge leading toward the center of the park.
This particular one is entitled 'Get the f*ck
off me, babies!'
At the center of the park, stood a massive stone
dais, atop which was perched a towering monument
comprised predominantly of human figures.
Later that evening, we met up with our friend Andy and a group of his Norwegian friends at an Irish pub for dinner and a couple of drinks. Our road trip was planned to start early that morning, and we couldn't very well (well, didn't) want to be nursing a hangover the following morning. Our taxi dropped us off in what he felt was a spot somewhat near Europcar, but after looking at a map and asking several people for directions, we ended up walking in an ever-tightening spiral until we eventually closed in on the spot.
I would also like to spend a small bit of your time to gripe about car rental companies. It's been a rare occurrence when I've rented a car that I actually get the car I've requested. They've attempted to rationalize this as an 'upgrade,' but when I request one car and you give me one that is completely different (not 'or equivalent') to the one I originally wanted, this reflects poorly upon your business model.
Case in point: I had reserved an Audi A3 for our trip up the coast. I saw them pull a new, gunmetal grey A3 out front as we were checking in, and was pleased. So pleased that I almost didn't catch it when he said, "Someone will be around with your Nissan Qashqai shortly." I'm sorry, what? At first I wasn't sure if it was just something lost in translation and that I might have been given a Juke or even a Rogue. But no - the Qashkai (Kwash-kye) is apparently a real thing. And it looks a little something like this. Now, when I expect a small, sporty compact, I don't understand how how a crossover SUV type thing is either an equivalent or an upgrade. An equivalent would have been a different color of A3. An upgrade would have been to a faster, sportier car. Not a Nissan Squishy.
I sighed, not really having the energy nor the desire to get into this discussion at that moment. We loaded into the Nissan Qui-gon Jinn and headed out of town. It wasn't long until we left the stark, grey surrounds of Oslo, and began to see the true beauty of Norway.
We had quite a drive ahead of us - you can see it here. All up, we drove around 3,300 km plus ferry trips.
We began our drive west and inland, encountering
sun, lakes, and some minor hills. It was a good day.
The reason for our detour was Norway's oldest
stave church.
Heddal stave church waits in the background.
They are so named as stave churches, because they
are built using post and beam construction, including
the walls with are filled with supporting vertical beams,
or, staves.
Though it has undergone a few restorations, the church
dates back to the early 1200s, when vikings and dragons
roamed the earth.
This lock was no match for the giant cartoon
key I was carrying around in my pocket.
There was not much else to see inland in that area, excepting, of course, the stunning scenery, so we returned to our Nissan Quince Paste and headed south toward the coast. Our destination for that evening was the coastal city of Stavanger.
The rolling hills began to become more prominent as
we made our way out toward the west coast. The
weather was surprisingly comfortable - mid-20s (C).
Later that afternoon, we arrived in a slightly-rainy
Stavanger. The cobbled streets and surrounding
architecture created a quaint, welcoming atmosphere.
Until I ran over a horse pulling a carriage. That
was awkward.
There was a small lake in the center of town as well.
The kind of lake that's perfect for hiding a horse.
We checked into our apartment, I immediately found a cat wandering around the street (I seem to attract them for some reason), and then we sought out a place for dinner, finding a decent-but-not-excellent Italian place just down the street. We were a bit limited for choice - I think it may have been the only restaurant that was open. Having a big day in store tomorrow, we had an early night.
The following day, we would head east and inland again, our destination being Preikestolen, a sort of Mecca for people visiting Norway. It would provide us with our first proper glance of the fjords, as well as a bit of exercise getting up there.
The trip to Preikestolen required taking our first (of
around eleven) ferries.
The ferry passed a small, bulging island as we crossed
the channel toward the far shore. I wanted a closer look.
How did they get there?!
We reached the other side, and after driving 10 minutes
in the wrong direction, eventually reached the parking
lot for the hike up the mountain.
It wasn't a terribly arduous hike - roughly 4 km each way - but it was a considerable vertical rise, peaking at a bit over 600m. Thankfully we opted to go earlier in the morning, as it was evident that the tourist crowds came a bit later in the day, and along with them, children, the infirm, and others who would have just generally made the hike very slow going. After about an hour and a half, the terrain began to plateau, and we reached the peak.
The view was nothing short of majestic. No guard rails,
unlimited visibility, and a perfect opportunity to throw
the paper airplane I had been folding on the hike up.
Just hanging out on the edge of the world. Surprisingly,
a bunch of people appeared at the top with dogs in tow
as well. Thinking back to the hike we had just completed,
I was curious how they had made it past certain parts.
Just so you can see where I was sitting,
that's me on the edge there.
Shortly before Alex pretended to push me over the
edge. I sure showed her. On an unrelated note, the
response time of emergency helicopters in Norway
is really impressive.
Looking ridiculously defiant.
After we had sufficiently soaked up the view
from the top, we made our way back down toward
the base of the mountain.
The ferry took us back across to Stavanger, and
with quite a bit of the day left, we drove north
toward Bergen.
In Bergen that evening, we had a relaxing stroll across the city, wandered along Bryggen, the well-known waterfront area in the city, and found what ended up being an excellent seafood restaurant in the vicinity. We were originally planning on driving directly north, but our waitress convinced us to take a slightly circuitous route out toward her hometown. Always eager to explore, we decided to follow her advice the following day, and take the scenic route on our way to Ålesund.
More beautiful mountain scenery. The locals in Oslo
actually said they got tired of all the fjords, or at the
very least, used to them. I can see how they could make
traversing the entire country tiresome, but at no point
did I get my fill of them.
Fog began to roll in over some of the hills - the little
Nissan Queer Eye takes a breather.
There were many, many tunnels through the hillsides
as we drove along. Some of them were quite short.
The longest we encountered were upwards of 10 km
long.
The vast majority of driving was done along some sort
of body of water. Or traversing some sort of body of
water. Or caulking the wagon and floating across. Or
fording the river. Shortly after this picture, we lost a
couple yolks of oxen.
Some of the fjords were truly massive in scale, with
huge peaks, and little smatterings of houses scattered
amongst the valleys.
While driving, we came across the familiar four leaf
clover symbol that signifies a landmark of sorts. The
'-foss' suffix implied it was a waterfall. Always intrigued
by downward-moving water, I pulled over to have a look.
Across the bridge and down a path along the river, and we could see the falls just across the field.
I was quick to make friends with some of the field's
denizens.
The falls weren't exactly massive (see my recent trip to
Iguaçu), but it was a rather pretty, idyllic area. Plus, cows.
There's only so much you can do at a waterfall in the middle of the field, so we returned to the Nissan Squashed Guy and continued on our way up to Ålesund. The drive took us inland a smidgeon, and along the water amongst some stunning fjords. Still not sick of them. We cut east through the mountains toward Stryn, where our waitress from the previous evening was from.
It's difficult to do the water justice, but it was a beautiful
deep turquoise color.
Some of the surrounding peaks and the many narrow
falls that tumbled down their steep faces.
We also stopped briefly at Briksdal glacier - it was a
bit late in the afternoon, so we just had time for pictures.
I also bought a wool hat.
A glacier ticked off our list, we circled around the lake
(which added a considerable amount of driving, given
that there very easily could have been a bridge). But then
you'd miss out on all the pretty.
A short bit of driving and one more ferry later, we finally arrived at our next hotel just outside of Ålesund, driving right by it initially because it was to the immediate left off the ferry. We left our things in the room and made the drive into the city.
Ålesund is a rather interesting place - it all burned down at one point, and as such, was rebuilt at the same time, making the architecture uniform across the city. The sun was out, it was brisk, and we first headed up to the viewpoint in the center of town.
The city is predominantly built out across a peninsula.
Back down in the streets, we wandered along the
waterways looking for a place to have dinner. Much
of the city was eerily quiet.
We eventually ended up at a fairly average steakhouse along the water. At least I was full by the end of the meal, having stuffed myself full of bread the first chance I got, then added a rather large steak and some French onion soup to the mix. I may have had dessert as well...it's all a bit of a blur.
At any rate, we got back into the car to head back up to the lookout to watch the sun set (which didn't happen until closer to 9:30, given we were moving further and further north each day).
And we were not disappointed. Sunsets like this always
make me think of an old Garfield cartoon where he says
that sunsets remind him of lasagna.
It was a bit chilly up on the hilltop, but we toughed it
out to watch the incredible display.
Well, I did anyway. Alex went to sit in the car
after a while.
Ships sailed in and out of the harbor as the evening
light dimmed.
Clouds rolled in as the sun set, their edges lit
brightly by the setting sun. It was getting windy
as well. Ever vigilant, I waited.
The moon showed it's face - thankfully not full.
The world was safe for another few nights at least...
We returned to the hotel, and realizing there was no fridge in the room and we had milk with us, we just decided to leave it outside overnight. In hindsight, it was probably much colder than any fridge, and I think we ended up forgetting about it in the end anyway.
The next morning, we sat down for a typical Norwegian breakfast, complete with lots of bread, smoked meats, and tubes filled with a questionable substance - but with a shrimp picture on the outside, so presumably shrimp paste. There was one without pictures, with a tangy aroma that stung the nostrils. I did have to try everything though - it was a bit fishy, and not altogether awful, but I wouldn't put it on a hot dog. Well, maybe I would.
I suppose this is an appropriate time to mention my other new found discovery: gjetost, or, brown cheese. It's just that: brown cheese. There is some slight caramelization that happens in the process of creating it, and it gives it a smooth, slightly sweet taste. It's typically served with breakfast, or eaten directly off the block with a knife while driving, which I made up. I have managed to find it in Sydney - it's about $10 for a rather small block of the stuff. Worth it.
On the road again, this time heading for Trondheim. There were a few stops along the way, some we were expecting, and one that I was absolutely delighted to find. More on that in a moment.
One of the more imposing views we saw on our drive.
A small-but-powerful waterfall we happened upon
as we were driving around.
We eventually veered off the main road and headed along one of the small byways (Route 63) toward Trollstigen, one of our planned destinations for the day. What I did not expect, however, was that Route 63 would be one of the most spectacular driving roads I'd ever come across. Big, sweeping turns, surrounded on both sides by towering peaks, and everywhere else by clear blue sky, smooth road surface, and nice, long straightaways. Even in the Nissan Quasimodo, you'd be hard-pressed not to go along it without a smile on your face.
Absolute bliss, until...
Ok, so I had to be a bit careful with some of the road
conditions, namely the sheep. They were in no real
hurry to get out of the way.
But they were all-too-eager to mug for the camera.
Alex also attempted to get some pictured, but was soon
charged by what was probably the most apathetic
stampede ever.
After most of the sheep had lazily listed off the side of the road (whether intentionally or accidentally), we continued through the pass to Trollstigen.
It looks as though someone dribbled spaghetti along
the valley. Many of the turns were so sharp that the
the little Nissan Quiltmaker had to slow down to a
crawl. A car with a lower center of gravity would
have been preferred.
Trollstigen conquered, we hopped on another ferry,
along with the Knight Bus.
Taking another detour, we headed out toward the coast to a string of islands and Kristiansund. Aside from some more stunning scenery, our destination was...
...this totally sweet ramp.
A couple of cars about to get some awesome
air off the ramp.
Okay, so it's not a ramp, it's actually just an oddly-
curved bridge. Pretty sweet, though.
What really happened to the S.S. Minnow.
It was late afternoon by the time we finally arrived
in Trondheim.
Olav Tryggvason (an old king of Norway) watches
over the market square near the center of town.
We walked around a bit before dinner, and came to
Nidaros Cathedral. Fairly standard from this side.
The front was quite impressive, a massive facade of stone
and figures and gargoyles and other Jesus-y stuff.
The sun eventually setting, we found - again - one of the few restaurants still open (the further north you go in Norway, the earlier places close, especially toward the end of the tourism season). We had a not-too-long drive the following day, with not much of anything planned, so we were just going to see what we came across.
And it just so happened that once again, Norway pleasantly surprised us. In the middle of nowhere, on our drive to our next stop - Mosjøen - we came across a sign informing us of an arctic zoo a few kilometers down the road. Making good time, and not forgetting, of course, my propensity toward petting animals, we predictably stopped to check it out.
There were a handful of cars in the parking lot, but we soon found out that most - if not all - of these belonged to the staff, who were a combination of pleased and surprised to see us, it seemed. Nonetheless, we purchased our tickets, were informed that at 1 pm there would be a keeper feeding the animals with whom we could tag along, and at 2 pm we could watch them feed the carnivores. At this point, it was a bit after 11, so we decided we'd see how we were doing for time for the feedings.
I'm going to get this out of the way up front: this was probably one of the greatest zoos I've ever seen, the Namsskogan Familiepark. Whether it was the arctic fauna, the fact that we were literally the only visitors in the zoo, or perhaps the large gaps in the fences and the staff who decided it was better to just hang out in the lodge for most of the day, it all came together to create an awesome experience. The large gaps in the fences meant I could get my fair share of petting. The enclosures were massive and looked to be built around the natural landscape, as opposed to the other way around. The animals all seemed healthy and happy. And before we knew it, 1 pm had suddenly come charging up, and we had only seen a few of the exhibits. Returning to the beginning of the trail, we walked along with one of the keepers as she fed the animals and shared a bit about them.
There were a fair few baby / adolescent animals
around the park, this wild pig being one of them.
Sadly, they don't stay that cute for long.
They also had a massive moose. Come to think of it,
I don't believe I'd actually seen a moose in person
before this. My head came up to around his shoulders.
I got to both pet it and feed it (when the keeper wasn't
and was around, respectively).
It's dangerous to go alone! Take this.
They also had a herd of reindeer, with a large male
who kept giving me the stinkeye.
2 out of 3 brown bears - the father was kept in a separate
enclosure to prevent rivalries between the two males
from forming. Also, there wasn't any sort of barrier
between me and the chain link fence, but even I'm
not dumb enough to stick my hand in there.
The patriarch.
One of the pack of 15 wolves also at the zoo.
When it was time for the feeding, the keeper brought
a huge solid block of questionable substance and left
it in the wolf enclosure. They all gingerly approached
the food from the trees, sticking to a very rigid
hierarchical eating order. When this order was broken,
we could hear the howling from across the park.
There were also 1 or 2 wolf pups among the pack.
They patiently waited for their turn to eat the
mystery meat.
There was a lone wolverine as well - I was skeptical,
it looked nothing like Hugh Jackman.
A pair of lynx were next on the tour. They would
take their food and run off with it to a hidden place
to finish eating.
I don't think I've ever received a more 'you're next' look
from a cat before.
And finally, we went along to feed the bears, who -
surprisingly - mainly have a diet of dog kibble and
sweet rolls. They would also sit on their haunches
and wave when the keeper came up to the paddock
with their food.
Lastly, this wild beast was waiting for us in the
parking lot as we were leaving, completely uncaged.
So, again, if you ever happen to find yourself in the middle of Norway looking for a great zoo, I couldn't recommend this one any more highly.
At first I thought we'd reached some sort of Norwegian
Disneyland, but it turns out it was just the official
crossing point into the northern part of the country, a.k.a. -
where it starts to get really cold.
We arrived at our next stop of Mosjøen, so chosen not
because there was anything particularly notable about it,
but instead, because it broke up some 1300 km of
driving.
It was a quiet little town - this was the 'beach' just out
behind our hotel. The hotel has been open for over
200 years, and I can tell you it has been updated
at least once in that time span.
Mosjøen is well-known for having some of the oldest
buildings / fishing huts in Norway.
Sadly, it didn't look like we'd be getting any gas before
we hit the road again.
After wandering around the little town and noting no fewer than 34 hairdressers, we found a restaurant that clearly didn't buy into the whole specialization fad, and served food from essentially every single cuisine possible. I had French onion soup and a kebab.
The next morning we continued our charge north. Always north. Except when we weren't.
Another thing to add to the book of 'Things For Which
You Wouldn't Expect To Find An Entire Roadside
Monument.' We had crossed north over the arctic circle.
It was quite close to freezing outside - Alex braved
the cold to capture this moment.
I did too. Inadvertently locking the keys in the car
was not so much a problem when I realized I could
just cut the glass with my nipples.
Not quite sure what this sign said - hope it wasn't
anything important. 'Whatever you do, make sure
you don't-...' *sticker*
Norway is divided into 430 kommunes, or municipalities.
There was a marker at the arctic circle that bore the coats
of arms of many of them.
As I discovered in Iceland, in many Scandinavian countries,
it's customary to leave a stone on a cairn for good luck.
Taking or disturbing the stones will bring bad luck.
They actually had proper signs asking people not to stack
stones along the road, so these were located over the top
of a hill.
Another fjord view, just in case you were missing it.
This was our longest travel day of them all - something
like 500 km of driving, plus a 110 km ferry.
Which brings me to the next part of our adventure - the Great Ferry Caper. Rather than drive an extra 300 km, we saw that there was a ferry that crossed Vestfjorden to get to Lofoten. This sounded like a great idea, so we headed for Bodø, a large shipping port in northern Norway, to catch it. There was one at 11:15 am, and another at 4:30 pm. Unfortunately, we arrived at 11:30 am, and after comparing the various ferry schedules and asking someone, it turned out that there wasn't actually a 4:30 ferry, but that the next one wasn't until 7 pm. So we had a bit of waiting to do. In hindsight, we probably could have driven there faster, but I had done more than enough driving and was happy to sit on a ship for a few hours. We busied ourselves with a bit of grocery shopping, and eventually found a park in which we could sit and read.
Late afternoon came, and we returned to the ferry terminal, where we boarded the massive ferry. The departure time came and went, and we were told that the trip would be delayed while they fixed something - a puffin jammed in one of the propellers, I don't know. I took the opportunity to wander around the decks and get some pictures.
Nearly 2 hours later, around 9 pm, we finally left the
dock and headed across the fjord.
Moon river - RIP, Harry Mancini.
The sunset created an incredible two-tone backdrop for
the ferry ride.
Now, some of you may know that despite my love of diving and adventure activities, I am actually somewhat prone to seasickness. Given that we were essentially crossing open water and not a sheltered fjord, things were a bit rougher than expected. The ferry pitched and yawed frantically in all directions, clearly possessing no means of stabilization whatsoever. I'm fairly certain we even did a barrel roll at one point. Not expecting this sort of madness, I had neglected to take my anti-spewing pill. Not feeling great, I wandered out into the cold on the deck and fell asleep draped across some deck chairs. The whole trip took around 3 hours, and it was well past midnight by the time we arrived.
Eager to get to our hotel, we navigated the dark, narrow, twisting roads of the archipelago, narrowly avoiding yet more sheep, and finally arrived at the hotel at around 1:30 in the morning. And when I say 'hotel,' I actually mean rorbu, or, traditional Norwegian fishing huts. It was dark, so we just went straight to sleep, and figured we'd have a look around the following morning.
We were greeted by sunlight and amazing weather the next day, giving no indication that there had been any sort of rough weather the previous evening when we were stuck on the ferry. Not surprisingly, shortly after leaving the hut, I began to attract some...followers.
This one was the first one to arrive.
And this one. And then about 4 others that looked
just like these two. I must smell like mice or Fancy
Feast or something.
A bike against a post held a small bouquet of flowers.
We decided to have a quick drive around the islands
before breakfast, and interrupted this little lady in the
middle of hers.
Lofoten is home to some rather scenic beaches, though,
I don't know how well they would do for swimming.
Alex stands well away from the crashing waves along
the shoreline.
Me, not so much - I was almost swept off my rocky perch
by an enthusiastic spray of water.
More scenic beach beauty...from a distance, this time.
A few weather-worn huts along the water.
It was surprising to find this kind of green beauty so far
north. Norway sits in a unique location that brings a lot
of warm air up along the length of most of the country,
keeping temperatures comfortable for much of the year.
Still, I wouldn't imagine the water is particularly warm.
We headed back to our fishing hut, seen in the background
here. It was about as rustic as you could get - no TV, no
phones, overhead beams that were not installed with
someone of my height in mind. They had spared no
expense on the heated floors in the bathroom, at least.
Colorful flowers covered the hillsides as we checked
out the grounds surrounding the hut.
I'm not any sort of horticulturalist, so I have no idea
what any of these are, but they were pretty.
Much of Lofoten is known for fishing and the
drying of said fish for making stock and other
things, so sights like this are not uncommon, if
a bit unsettling for mealtime decoration.
Fish heads, fish heads, roly-poly fish heads...
Curiosity for fish heads and flowers sated, we drove east along the main road in Lofoten toward Tromsø, our final destination before flying further north. It was an easy drive, and we eventually reached our hotel.
Y-yes? Maybe? I...I'm really not sure what
you're asking... Did this girl's parents not kiss
at the Enchantment Under the Sea dance?
We parked and wandered the streets of Tromsø for a little while, found some dinner, and then retired for the night. The next morning, we were catching a flight up to Svalbard, an archipelago located very far north of Norway. Go ahead, I'll give you a sec - go check out where it is on a map. Found it? Good. That's where we were headed. At just 1800 km from the north pole, with a population of roughly 3,000 people, it was - to say the least - remote. Its main purpose was primarily as a whaling base and eventually, coal mining. Both Norway and Russia have settlements across the islands.
Our plane landed on the stark runway, and right away I knew we were somewhere special.
For one thing, it was cold. Quite cold. And the fact that I'm admitting that is saying something. The small town center of Longyearbyen was surrounded on all sides by brown tundra or jagged peaks dusted with snow. The houses and buildings had all been painted muted, natural colors as to blend in somewhat with their surroundings.
Our hotel was the Basecamp Trapper's Hotel, which had been styled to emulate the old trapper cabins of yesteryear. They walls were bare timber covered with burlap tea bags, the floors were slate. It was all so delightfully rustic. An oil heater kept the cold at bay. At the top of the hotel sat a cognac bar with a glass ceiling, a prime spot for enjoying a tipple and a read, to which I availed myself on several occasions. It is also customary to remove your shoes when entering most places, a tradition that dates back hundreds of years. It was nice wandering around in wool socks most of the time. After setting our stuff down, we went for a wander around the town.
This friendly fella was waiting outside the doors
to our hotel, the first of many, many dogs we would
encounter over the next few days.
Having a look around the city and grabbing a meal in a local pub, we went to bed early to rest for the following day's adventure. Well, it felt early. It was actually around 10 or 10:30 pm, but the sun was still up. That was new.
The next morning, we met our guide in the lobby, where he explained the day's schedule. We would be heading on a high-speed boat to Isfjord Radio, a radio station that was used for much of the 20th century for communications between Svalbard and the mainland, as well as air and ship traffic control. It's now out of service, but there are still ~10 people there on a regular basis for maintenance.
It was going to be cold, so we had to environmental suit up.
Alex models this year's bold style, proving once
and for all that day-glow orange is the new black.
We set off quickly at first, then blisteringly fast, and eventually settled comfortably at plaid. It was just the two of us, the guide, and a researcher who would be spending the next several months at Isfjord. Our guide would stop every once in a while to allow us some pictures of the scenery, wildlife, or when it looked as though I was about to fall off the boat. Out on the open water, moving very quickly, it was not long before I was losing feeling in my hands and some of my face. I burrowed deeper into my environmental suit.
The mountains along the sheltered bay as we were
leaving Longyearbyen.
Out on the water, we caught glimpses of the occasional
puffin. I was thrilled, as I had missed seeing them in
Iceland.
The fulmar liked to play games to see how close they
could swoop to the boat.
We stopped briefly by some bird cliffs - in the warmer
months, they are teeming with - get ready for this - birds.
As we made our way around the rugged coastline, husks
of buildings began dot the hillsides, most of them
completely abandoned and left to the mercy of the elements.
A closer look at the tenuously-perched and faded
exterior of one of the buildings.
More housing units - all completely abandoned. I would
have loved to have had a look through them.
An old ship, being more or less eaten alive by the
seawater.
The sun attempted to come through a few times, but
the clouds mostly held their ground during the day.
A flock of something - perhaps some sort of auk.
A flock of auk. Haha. We couldn't get too close before
they would fly off and splash down in the water again.
A glacier in the distance.
After prying open my frozen eyelids, I was able to enjoy
some of the incredible surrounding scenery.
The water was a stunning turquoise when the sun hit it.
The great expanse of open water, and cause for much of
the bumpiness of our ride across the Greenland Sea.
A few hours later, we eventually made land at Isfjord. Cold, wind-stung, and slightly damp, we made the jump onto the dock as the boat heaved up and down with the motion of the water; one poorly-timed move and we would have ended up in the drink. We walked across the rocky terrain to the main cabin, where we got out of our environmental suits, and began to warm back up. They served us a hot lunch, and we slowly got feeling back to our extremities. There were a couple of nature photographers there from the BBC, just about to head out on a photography expedition. They had a plethora of very expensive camera gear with them (one of them is sponsored by Nikon, so the massive $10,000+ lens he was lugging around he actually got for free). A short while later, they donned their harsh weather gear, backpacks, camera equipment, and rifles, and set off into the wilderness.
Oh yeah, I should probably mention that people are strongly encouraged not to wander outside alone without a rifle due to the prevalence of polar bears in the area. While we didn't see any, sadly, Svalbard is the only place in Europe where you can find polar bears.
Of course, I didn't fully realize that they occasionally wandered into the camp until I had come back inside from playing with a few of the sled dogs outside. Whoops.
Eventually, we got all bundled up again and had a wander outside to learn a bit about the station.
A huge whale bone, bleached by the sun. It was a good
6 feet wide, at least.
Either a dunlin or some other sort of sandpiper - there
were a few of them scuttling along the rocky cliffs.
Either a hide or an outhouse. Or perhaps both, depending
on how long you're out there.
All bundled up to wander around outside. The station
is pictured in the background.
More of the radio station, and some of the coastline.
Now just the coastline.
We eventually finished with our time at Isfjord, and returned to the boat to head back to the city. The trip back seemed much faster, and we were glad to be able to warm up with a hot shower when we got back to the hotel.
Later that evening, we went to Svalbard's only gourmet restaurant, Huset. They had a fixed price menu option, and were able to tailor it to Alex's strict requirements, so we were both happy. Reindeer was on the menu, and it was quite tasty. I should also mention I tried smoked whale another of our evenings there. It tasted a bit like salami.
Full and happy, we returned to get a good night's sleep.
The next morning, we had a bit of a wander around town, now considerably more aware of our surroundings, given that polar bears were a bit more brazen than I originally thought.
Svalbard would be a rather unique place to live year-round.
Alex actually enjoying herself, despite the cold. The
Svalbard city center is in the background.
Remnants of the old coal mining operation from long
ago.
Another shot of the city showing the natural colors
used to paint the buildings.
We also popped into the Svalbard Museum while we
were there. This is a polar bear trap. A bit of food is
attached to a wire, which is attached to the trigger of
a rifle. The bear goes in to get the food, pulls the wire,
and is shot in the head.
Fortunately, bears are clever critters, and learned how
to disarm the trap, and then take the food.
We left the museum to wander around a bit more before
the afternoon's activities, and came across some arctic
terns, who have a habit of swooping at your head if
you get too close.
Another dunlin or type of sandpiper. These ones just
kinda scrambled away if you got too close.
That afternoon, we had arranged one final activity for Svalbard: dogsledding! Only, there wasn't a lot of snow, so it was more like dogbuggying. We waited outside the front of the hotel for the guide to arrive, and had some company while we did so.
This stoic-yet-friendly pup was tied up outside.
It had some of the most soul-piercingly blue eyes I'd
ever seen.
Yessss, look deeeep into my eyessssss...
Soon, our guide arrived and took us about 10km out of town to the dog yards. They had something like 57 Alaskan huskies in total, and she laughed when I told her we were going to pet all of them. I asked her what was so funny, and she stopped laughing. We then proceeded to visit and pet each of the 57 dogs in the yard. They all had an individual hutch that they could climb up into if the weather turned foul, and all of them seemed to be full of energy. There was even a large enclosure set aside for the puppies.
That's right - sled dog puppies.
They were so friendly - it's a shame Alex wasn't enjoying
herself more.
We got to go inside of the pen, which seemed to make
the little pups quite happy, and it wasn't long before we
were covered in what I'm almost certain was mostly poo
with some mud mixed in.
It's a real shame the pups weren't more friendly too.
Note the one on the left plotting its escape...
Tell me those eyes aren't saying 'take me with you.'
The guide didn't buy it.
This was one of the fully-grown sled dogs - you can
see one in its hutch in the background.
The whole thing really was a hands-on experience. We were briefed on how to harness up the dogs, and were in charge of doing all six that would be pulling our buggy. Once the equipment was being set up, the dogs went absolutely berserk, jumping and barking excitedly. They all wanted to go for a run, but only 12 would be going. Our guide instructed us on the dogs we were to use, and one by one, I went and collected them, walked them back to the buggy, and harnessed them up. Eerily, the dogs could count - as soon as I grabbed the sixth dog for our buggy, they all went completely silent. Alex settled into a pile of reindeer pelts on the buggy, and I stood on the back to steer. Brakes disabled, we were off.
It was an incredible experience - I would love to try proper dogsledding one day. The dogs enthusiastically bolted forward, loving the opportunity to get to run across the wilderness. We took a main road out toward the water, and followed along the shore for some time.
We stopped for a rest and some photos. The dogs' tongues
lolled out of theirs mouths, panting from the run. You can
also see the buggy in the background.
More happy, smiling pups.
Wreckage of a WWII-era plane. This is actually
protected; the debris is not to be disturbed or removed.
Given its strategic position, Svalbard was actually
a prime target for bombing during the war.
I named this one David Bow-wowie.
We trundled by a river at one point, and the pooches
wanted to stop for a well-deserved break / dip.
A herd of reindeer we came across - they were very intent
on showing us their backsides.
Returning to the dog yard, we unharnessed our team and then got to spend some time helping feed all of the dogs a combination of meat, kibble, and water. The more seasoned dogs had been trained to wait until the bowl had been set down before wolfing it down, but the pups were still in the process of learning, and had to sit before they were given their food. Muddy, and with a smile on our faces, we returned to the hotel for our last uneventful evening before departing.
It was a whirlwind trip - over 3000 km of driving, 11 ferries, countless critters, and some stunning scenery. Would I go back? Absolutely. There's so much more I would like to see - polar bears, Aurora Borealis, and there's even a hotel that's a ship frozen in the arctic ice come winter. I'm positive the call of the frozen north will bring me back sooner rather than later.
1 comment:
That was an believable escape! You had some really unique experiences. Loved the blue-eyed doggy. M.
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