The grandeur of the mountains can be overwhelming at times. Especially if bad weather sets in. Perhaps that is why the Norwegians are so fond of their cabins. With a cabin they are able to seek shelter and ‘kose sig’. ‘Hygge’ in Danish 🤗
We have never brought our tent with us in the Norwegian mountains, but always used the exceptional cabin system, which is widespread throughout Norway. Furthermore, it gives you the opportunity to meet the Norwegians. It’s never boring!
We have met many walkers and exchanged stories and experiences. We have met Norwegian hunters, Card Players and many incredibly nice cabin people. We are filled to the brim with lovely stories, and yet I always yearn for new ones. Isn’t that what it is all about?
Old birch tree by Sognefjorden
The birch tree Artist: Thomas Fearnley Date: 1839 Painting
Norwegian Highlands in Sunrise
The Norwegian painter, Hans Gude, 1854.
Artist: Harriet Backer Date: 1897 Visual artist, Painter Born 1845 in Holmestrand, died 1932 in Oslo
Artist: Thomas Fearnley
The hunters on the way home
We soon arrived at the hut. The boy had gone ahead with the dogs and had made a skilful fire on the fireplace.
Illustration to “En Tiurleg i Holleia” in P. Chr. Asbjørnsen, Norske Folke- og Huldre-Eventyr i Udvalg. Copenhagen 1879 Artist: Hans Gude Date: 1878 or 1879 Designation: Drawing
When clouds cover the sun, then mountains, trees and rocks turn into dark threatening shadows, so even the snow hides in the darkness. Waterfalls and wild rivers orchestrate their own strangely bizarre music and the wind howls its contribution as for chasing a fear in the lonely wanderer. Monstrous, deformed trees suddenly look like creatures from another world. No wonder that people thought there were trolls in this incredible universe that Norway’s mountain world poses. The paintings I have found here reveal the powerful effect that nature has had on the artists.
… And here I met trolls. Maybe it was the river that sang like that in my ears. Maybe it was the stars that were so high up there. Maybe the feeling of loneliness in here. Maybe this weird mix of wildness and peace. Or maybe it was quite simply the change of weather that quickly crept inwards on the morning twig?
At least they came that night. It was a whole bunch of trolls. Big and heavy they rose to meet over the ridge, thick and round they rolled down from the peaks, small and shabby they emerge from the heather. They climbed awkwardly on grey stones and ravens, nodded slowly to each other, shook their hams and mumbled into the air.
They did not pay attention to me … * Kari Heftye Skollerud Journalist
Anyone who has once crossed the grey mountains of Trollheimen and wandered in the lush, wooded valleys between them, listened to the restless journey of the rivers between snow-glaciers and the sea and picked the berries of late summer, will always long to return… Trollheimen, is a mountain adventure, a mountain home that is able to enchant those who seek fresh strength in the simple life of walking.* Karl H. BroxJournalist and author
Here, in the wild rugged mountain landscape, was Mannen. A high-altitude unstable mountain section, which threatened the Norwegian residents in the valley with extinction. For decades, families were evacuated. The mountain section threatened to crash into the valley. Today, the greatest danger is over after several major landslides over the past six years.
Down in the valley, between weathered mountain peaks, the train runs from Dombås to Åndalsness by the sea. Raumabanen, is the name of the railway.
Here, Harry Potter rode by train with his friends heading for Hogwarts in the film, Harry Potter and The Half-Blood Prince.
In March 2008, a film crew secretly arrived in Norway to shoot the sixth Harry Potter film, “Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince”. The recordings were made to avoid snow shortage, after the film team had waited for two months for snow in Scotland. The fact that the scenic area is surrounded by mountains and valleys also played a role in the choice of location. For several days, a film team of 20 people surrounded by great secrecy, worked at Bjorli in Lesja municipality in Oppland to make a recording for the latest Harry Potter film.
Ingrid Nergården Jortveit wrote an article in the Norwegian newspaper Gudbrandsdølen Dagningen. I have translated fragments from that article.
We went by a train journey into the dramatic outstanding Norway. Trolltinderne, the Troll Peaks make you humble, and with a good reason: Mannen!
We bought an interrail ticket to Norway. It gave us access to travel in this stunning country as pioneers, or that was the feeling it gave me. Going by train, busses and small ferries. Planning a route of our own.
Watching dramatic mountains torned by the wonderful sparkling blue fjords. It seemed to be an impossible feat, the thousand meters high mountains rising majestically right out of the sea. I watched them with awe. Tiny ships seemed to vanish in the shadows from mountains and waterfalls a true adventure.
Per Thomsen, former editor-in-chief on Stavanger Aftenblad wrote this humorous subtle story about the mysteries of a wilderness:
“The trip to Svartvatnet was a battled experience and we were too puzzled to write anything before today.
Only now, are we able to see the comedy in it but there was nothing to laugh at, while it lasted.
On the way home, I slipped over a small grass shelf, and fell about a quarter of a meter.
My right foot went down into a hole between some moss-covered rocks. The foot was helplessly stuck. I tried to slide and tail and wiggle, but without any luck.
My friend Tore, became impatient. He tried in his way, which by the way was quite similar to my own. It made no difference and I said I would rather try myself.
Unfortunately, the foot had gotten so far down the hole that I couldn’t get the boot tied up, nor could I get a knife down and cut the boot up.
Tore tried once with the knife, but I said that if I wanted my foot amputated, I would rather have a doctor.
Then we tried to get the stones away, but unfortunately it was Mother Norway herself, and after an hour of clearing work, we made no progress.
It was completely idiotic. I was not injured. I had managed to get my foot down the hole. Therefore, the hole was also large enough for it to come up again.
I could feel that the foot wasn’t sprained. Therefore, it was not likely to be swelled. So why couldn’t it come up again?
Both Tore and I asked this question, to each other and to the world in general, to the Lord, and we made a series of highly derogatory remarks about the way the world is governed.
We stated that we found the case extremely funny the first five minutes, but now it was enough.
Of course the rain started to fall. The question came up if Tore should go for help?
It sounds good: ‘Go for help, when an accident occurs in the mountains.’
But how can the rescuer help. There are no reports of that!
While we were wondering about this, Tore thought very sensible that we needed to relax.
Whereupon we sat for half an hour, eating and smoking, pretending as if we had just sat down voluntarily.
The view wasn’t so bad, it stopped raining and the sun came out. We agreed that we had a holiday.
We told each other stories. Occasionally I jerked my foot, but it did not come loose, and I pretended not to have done so. Tore said I should leave it alone.
It could be, it slept eventually, and we might cheat it to come along.
But even though we both seemed cheerful and indifferent, we didn’t like it.
Did the foot sleep? I do not know, but at first Tore fell asleep, and shortly after I fell asleep too.
We don’t know for how long. But suddenly I was awakened by Tore who looked incredibly sleepy while he muttered; we’d better go home.
I gathered the fishing pole and the backpack and off we went.
We had been walking for at least five minutes before I remembered that the foot was actually stuck.
I was filled with an indefinable and strange feeling. The same was Tore when he remembered. But then we reassured each other that the spirit had triumphed over matter, and we proceeded home, extremely carefully and cautiously.
Such experiences affect us, especially when we can give no explanation for them. We went to bed without many words. But today we think the story is really funny. ”
“As soon as I saw you I knew a grand adventure was about to happen.” ~ A.A. Milne
When I think of Norway, I think of September. The smell of marshland. A wonderful clear blue sky between rain showers. In September, the mosquitoes are usually on retreat, and that makes the walk into low-lying areas much more pleasant. If you are lucky you can experience the birch trees changing dress from green to yellow to fiery red. It doesn’t get any better.
You must be logged in to post a comment.