Fording the Fjords

We stayed one night in Ålesund and for a few days in Øye. These cities are fun for me at least partly because they use letters unique to the Danish-Norwegian alphabet, the 'a' with the circle on top and 'o' with the line through it (official letter names pending further review).

Ålesund is a port town of about 70,000 on the western side of Norway on the Atlantic coast. We landed there around 1100PM, but it looked more like 700 or 800pm, owing to the latitude (about 62 degrees north). Throughout our stay here, I've been very excited about the (nearly) never-ending daylight. The sun sets at about 1130PM rises about four hours later, but the hours between are marked more by a duskiness rather than a true darkness.

We only stayed in Ålesund overnight (if you want to call it "night") before departing the next morning for Øye, which lies at the tip of a remote Fjord, the Norangsfjorden. Some locals told us that another nearby town, Urke, had less than 50 full-time inhabitants (mostly farmers), and we assume Øye is similar. From London, it took two planes and two ferries to get us here. It was only after we arrived that we realized that many guests arrive by helicopter, the "helipad" (AKA "a field") being conveniently located right outside the front entrance.

Hotel Union

We're staying at the Hotel Union, which is probably one of the nicer places I've ever stayed. The hotel is about 125 years old, and while it was recently renovated, it still hews (stylistically) to its Victorian era roots. Decorative touches include romantic landscape paintings and various taxidermied animal heads (our favorite is a moose over the staircase which we've named Marty). Furnishings include plush leather couches and wing chairs, thick velvet curtains, oriental rugs, etc. There is a billiards room, a reading room, a bar room, a drawing room, and two dining rooms (we ate in both, but prefer the one in the conservatory style greenhouse). Each guest room is decorated and furnished differently from the others. Hannah particularly likes that the doors to unoccupied rooms are left open with only a rope barring people from entering so you can peer in and see the design. Our meals are included, because honestly, where else are we going to go?   

Hiking

We attempted three hikes while we were here, all three unsuccessful. 

Saksa was a nearby 1,000 meter peak. We made about 800 meters up and past a steep rock face we had to climb with the help of a chain that had been drilled into the rock face. This was apparently the hardest part, but after we scaled the rock face we turned back, frustrated by the steep and narrow trail with poor footing. We descended about 100 meters, hearing from multiple people on the way down that we had scaled the hardest part. We paused for about 10 minutes on the side of the mountain, debating whether to try again (this mostly consisted of each of us exchanging the question, "Well, what do YOU think?"). Then, a friendly Norwegian (more on this later) yelled up to us that there was a lightening warning in effect. That made our decision, seeing as we were near the top of a  mountain standing on a exposed, treeless face. Upon hearing this, Hannah, who usually descends slowly and deliberately on account of her knees and conservative and hypercautious nature, started bounding down the mountain like a mountain goat or native Norwegian. In a role reversal, she would turn around occasionally, glare at me, and say something like: "What are you doing up there? Let's GO damnit."

Egilbu is another mountain near Saksa, also about 1,000 meters high. This time we made it up to about 900 meters after scrambling over mounds of boulders along the mountain face. We were turned back by slick snow near the top.

Skageflå is a historic mountain farm perched on the cliffs above Geirangerfjorden. Unfortunately, when we arrived in Geiranger after a two hour car ride, we learned that the hike was closed due to danger of a rock slide. So, instead, we did another hike up to a waterfall above Geiranger, where we (me) communed with the friendly goats and llamas. 

Friendly Animals, Friendly Norwegians

Speaking of which, we noticed the local farm animals (mostly sheep and goats, some cows and llamas) were very friendly. The sheep and goats could often be found lounging by the side of the road (more typically the sheep) or in the middle of the road (oftener the case with the goats). On our drive to Egilbu, we came upon a herd of goats plopped in the middle of our narrow dirt road. They were more intrigued by our car then afraid of it. A few beeps of the horn elicited some concern - a few deigned to stand up - bust mostly the horn seemed to attract the attention of another herd which heretofore had been plopped in another pasture. Now they needed to see what all the fuss was about. We eventually made our way through by inching forward and beeping some more. No goat was friendlier than Gertie (our name for her), the goat we met on our hike outside Geiranger. Upon noticing she was being photographed by me, she came over to nuzzle up and get neck scritches. The sheep for their part seemed a bit more sensible, keeping themselves more reliably on the side of the road and generally keeping their distance.

The Norwegians were also friendly. Maybe the animals rub off on them. One friendly Norwegian lady paid for our parking because we weren't carrying cash and didn't have the Norwegian parking app (which requires a Norwegian identity number to register). Another Norwegian couple - noticing our trepidation as we gazed up one of the steeper parts of Saksa - provided guidance and encouragement and watched as we clumsily made our way up. 

Adventures with Ferries and Tunnels

Norway is a sparsely populated and mountainous country. The fact that you can get around at all in the parts of the country we were exploring is impressive. The Norwegians have an impressive network of tunnels and ferries. That being said, the system is not 100% reliable and - in fact - I am writing to you now from the airport after having missed our flight because of one such snafu.

Yesterday, we were advised by the hotel staff to use a particular route to the airport because it avoided a ferry between two small towns that runs infrequently (once every couple of hours). However, as we drove through the mountains we stopped abruptly at the entrance to a tunnel. Within a few minutes, we saw an ambulance fly by and the traffic piled up over the next hour. Eventually we learned from another stranded driver that, according to a recent online traffic advisory, the tunnel could be closed for a couple of hours to clear whatever accident had occurred. This was not our first time encountering a tunnel delay: When we first arrived in Ålesund we were stuck outside of a tunnel near the airport. Silver lining: we got to know our friendly taxi driver quite well (a refugee from Syria). Having driven some of the tunnels here, I can see how easily accidents could occur since some of the tunnels are quite narrow. Squeezing by a truck or bus coming in the opposite direction can be a white-knuckle experience. In any case, we turned around and drove through another remote valley to a different ferry and ended up missing our flight to Oslo as a result. 

I attribute all this to trolls, which according to Norwegian folklore, commonly dwell in rocky mountainous areas and caves (so obviously, mountain tunnels are a natural habitat) and are rarely helpful to humans. Lest you forget, Norwegian folktales are the source of the well-known "Three Billy Goats Gruff". In our experience, the trolls are a menace that plague the country to this day.   

Oh, and two ferries canceled on us too. C'est la vie...or something.