Excerpts from my never-written Norway-Diary 3

3)

Why was I reluctant to follow him?

It was a really perfect day. Gift upon gift, the mere sight of nature’s extraordinary power in thundering waterfalls and the uncharted wilderness of large inhabited forest and bush-fields, the sub-arctic character of mountain landscapes, oh this was far more than what I ever expected of this Sunday.

Then the ferry across a fjord and the sight of another one from high... Then we were granted a gift journey to a mountain top. Under normal circumstances we work hard for such things, we walk and climb up and sweat and gasp while doing that. But now a sympathetic newly found friend bus-driver offers us a ride and we can do all of this 20 km mountaineering journey sitting in a vehicle. I guess, ten years ago I would have not admitted that this is how it happened. Now I am adult enough to be brave and tell: we didn’t climb Dalsnibba (1500 m) but were driven up there comfortably. Anyway, the view compensated us for any eventual remords of our mountaineer conscience.

The way back was just as spectacular as the way up had been. For the first time in years we went shopping souvenirs. And we actually had fun surfing through an entire huge shop in Geiranger. We touched and tried everything and bought things... And felt no dummies...

Then came the additional bonus of finding accommodation for that night! A beautiful little „hytte”, a hut, just as I had so much wanted to try out! A little red wooden house in the bushes, with white window frames, green grass on the top and a million dollar view from its terrace. The bonus of bonuses was an unchained waterfall in the proximity of our house, a real unleashed beast with sparkling wild white waters that stormed down in rays and – broken by the massive stones it fell on – returned for a brief moment to the air before relinquishing and being rushed away in form of white foam further down in the brook. I could have watched it for hours.

I found it hard to leave this sight for Zoli’s sake who discovered boulder routes nearby. He had climbed most of them, by the time I arrived to him. And then he disappeared just as I was still watching a perfectly constructed fireplace under the overhanging rock walls.

I knew instantly that he had found a path in the forest. Half of my heart wanted to follow him, the other half wanted to stay. I followed him on a narrow dark green pathway squeezed between green, plant-covered rocks dripping water and between the trees growing on top of another rock block.

We were on top of the bouldering block now. I was still halfway, he was already gone. It was almost midnight and I feared that the unexpected darkness would still come suddenly just when I am trying to find him in an unknown bush where who knows what imaginary and real trolls may wait for my companionship... I was actually more afraid of sprainting my ankle as I could no longer see well in the twilight of this narrow shadow-forest tightly stretched between two rocks. The path and its many stones seemed slippery and unstable at once – even if this was nothing compared to most of our mountain hikes. I knew he did not appreciate that I was reluctant and searched excuses of not going deeper into the forest, higher up on the slope. But to me this day has already given so much joy, so many surprises, so many gifts that I wanted to keep it that way, I was afraid not to ruin it with an ankle sprain in the twilight...

Then he finally appeared. We reached some water. Oh no, not some water, we actually found ourselves on top of the unleashed fierce waterfall. And the rays of the midnight sun penetrated the greenery now, framing our already fantastic view with tangible gold-diamond rays. Oh, good that I followed him... We were now in the middle of a guilded picture with translucent lights and cold watersteam and lush greenery...

My never ending day of luck and beauty – one in ten years – continued with a serene night-watching out in front of the house. Sipping milk and sitting, imagining how finally the grey shades overcome the facing mountains – and then I opened my eyes under the sun-glasses and that threatening night was still not there, the forests dreamed their lucid silver midsummer-night dreams and silently sang along the ceaseless roam of cascading waters.

Excerpts from my never-written Norway-Diary

1) The endless hours of beauty

I change my mind often, but to the question: what was the best thing in Norway, I would always give the same answer. The best of all was that certainty of beauty.
The fact that I woke up every morning with a sure feeling: we see something beautiful again, today as well. Just think of it:how often can you be sure every morning that something good is definitely going to happen to you today? Especially if you live in a place like Bettembourg...

Well, somehow with my hard-earned money I earned from destiny these eight days when beauty and smoothless encounters with nature were granted and guaranteed. Thank you Norway, from all my heart, ’thank you’, all the nice and helpful people we met on our way, thanks for the civilised and clean infrastructures that made our journey comfortable for us, two backpackers who never want to grow old.

24 hours and 36 minutes

In case you were wondering how much time one needs to travel by public transport from the coast of the Norwegian Arctic Sea (more specifically from the top of Fjellstua hill) all the way down to the Luxembourgish-French border, the answer is here:
24 hours and 36 minutes.

Yesterday evening Zoli and I rushed down this little rockhill overlooking a fabulous sea-coast-island-fjord-town landscape, we picked up our rucksacks from the youth hostel (Vandrerhjem) of Aalesund and with two (four :-) fully packed rucksacks (both of us had a big one and a smaller one for the daily trips) we trudged to the Nor-Way bus station on the coast. Our bus left at 21.00 hours exactly, and it covered the best parts of Middle and South Norway.

For us it was partly a recapitulation of what we had visited earlier this and last week: the coast of Aandalsnes, the enormous Romsdalshorn wall, the waterfalls breaking their chains and freely rushing into the Rauma (river), the valley of Dombaas, Lillehammer, deers crossig our route in the white night, the fjord-shore fires announcing this years Midsummernight... and a very well timed, "second-by-second precision to the schedule" arrival to a sunny, hot Oslo... a place we had come to like the week before.

The rest is just another story of journey, train to Sandefjord, aircraft to Hahn in Germany, bus to Luxembourg, train to Bettembourg. We are back, tired, with heads strangely stuffed, after all we hadn't had much sleep...
Just now Zoli is telling me what feels strangely for him: the fact it is getting DARK. Oh yes, for 8-9 days we didn't have nights. Except for three hours of sobre twilight in Oslo, more to the north we had really no night. At most one or two grey hours but even those were filled with life, birds still hunting, me still reading on the balcony of the hytte without any electricity or candle needed...
It was amazing not to have darkness at all...