When I reflect on my travels to Norway, I think about Mother Nature. I think about her raw and authentic self. I think about how I would wake up every morning, step outside, and look up to the impossible cliffs scraping the sky. It was October, so it was frigid. Despite the cold, I swallowed the freshest breaths of air. The clouds sank into the fjords. Hundreds of waterfalls diving into the earth became my background noise for this trip.
After arriving in Bergen, my group drove three hour north to stay in a tiny town called Flåm. This bus ride became our introduction to the country as we moved through the valleys and bowels of the rugged landscape. We stayed in a youth hostel, whose cabins were a vibrant yellow. I discovered playful colors of bright red and yellow endure in Norwegian architecture.
After we settled in, we rented out our bikes and began our first hike. We climbed a dangerously muddy path up to a waterfall and had the pleasure to oversee the entire valley. I recall how thunderous the water sounded and how quiet everything else was.
After our tiring hike, we went to the only supermarket that existed in this tiny town. The selection was small but new, however, obnoxiously expensive. I was warned about prices.
The next adventure we went on was hiking down a fjord. We took the famous Flåm railroad thirteen miles up to Myrdal.
Then, we went ahead a walked five hours back to our origin. When the group’s pace broke up, I ended up alone. I was so happy to be alone with only Nature. Her companionship was so special.
Although my feet felt like they had been rolled with needles and Lego bricks, I managed to stop by a small crafts store. There I bought some souvenirs for my parents and some wool yarn for myself (I’ve yet to knit anything – I’m too scared to waste it!).
Once we finished our long journey, we relaxed at the only pub that existed in Flåm…it was next to the only supermarket. The pub was called the Aeigir Brewery and looked like it was straight from Winterfell. I was geeking as I sat on fur pelts by the fire and sipped on my electric blue drink, which was called an “ice bjorn”…or something like that.
The next day, we drove to a rope course, which was located right next to a waterfall. It had just rained so the course was crazy slippery. We were two stories off the ground and I certainly felt like I was going to slip and die. I dipped for the second half since my hands were numb from the cold wires I had to hold. Instead, I relaxed by a warm fire.
Our last big activity in this tiny town was to go out to the fjords on a boat. My god, it was SO cold (I didn’t bring my camera and my GoPro died so no pictures 😦 ), but it provided another one of those magical moments with nature. We saw a mama seal with her pup. We saw the village that Arendale from Frozen was based off of! There, I learned the sad truth about how climate change has changed this village’s way of life. No longer can they communicate with neighboring villages since the fjords don’t freeze over anymore. :,-(
The best part of the tour was when we turned off the engine and sat at a crossroads. It was so quiet, but also so loud. Loud with waterfalls and wind rustling trees. Our guide told us that this is the only place in the world where three fjords meet. This was certainly a place to find peace.
Before we left for Bergen, we made our way to a small farm where we sampled brown cheese, a Norwegian delicacy. The cottage was so homey and the view of the fjords was so unbelievable that I had to ask the hostess if waking up every morning to this was as surprising as the day before. After we were fed, she sang some Norwegian folk music and told us about the country’s legends. Then, we were off with bellies full of bread, meat, and cheese.
Once we returned to Bergen, we had about four hours to kill. Before we all split off, some of us rode the Fløibanen to view the city from above.
After this, I decided to roam by myself in the misty rain.
I stumbled upon a very bright cluster of traditional wooden buildings which I later discovered was Bryggen, the old wharf. There I picked up some etchings as souvenirs for my parents travel wall at home! I also stepped into a steamy cafe and munched on some food before heading back to my group to go home.
I want to end this post with a poem I wrote while exploring this breathtaking country:
The sky, swollen with clouds.
The fjords in a veil of fog.
The walls that cradle this valley
seem to vanish
into the sky and slice open the heavens.
You enter the behemoth from time to time
and traverse its bowels.
Man has smoothed out its belly.
Mother Nature continues to carve its skin.
Forests can no longer continue
up the steep face.
Snow settles there instead.
The valley is speckled
with little red and white houses.
Loose threads of cloud hang
low above the village
and gift its people smatters of water.
Mother Nature roars
with a thousand hushes.
The river runs vertically,
splitting into tributaries against the rocks below.
It then flows into the little town in the softest exhale.
The morning cold pokes needles at your fingertips.
Your breath swirls with the air.
The sky descends upon you.
This haze will surely swallow this little town
unless it cries out.
The sky, swollen with clouds.
The fjords in a veil of fog.
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