The double decker nudges gracefully backwards through the hairpin tunnel. It’s the third time we have done this and I wonder how this works, do we do this ten times, maybe twenty before a car stops and lets us proceed?
Like most everything here, it’s better. We have skylights to peek at peaks vertically above us. We have chargers to fuel our electronics and of course we have the all important loo. Maybe perfection would be “in flight” food service; Champagne and roe sandwiches…..no, that’s a little over the top.
We’ve broken out of our tunnel and the view, while breathtaking, reminds me that all we descend must be reconquered on foot with a pack.
Two double deckers and a small coach gets us six hours north into the central highlands and valleys.
My boots hit the black top late afternoon. The river roars, the waterfalls create their own humid water cloud and progress is made up the valley road. It’s actually a good way to start a hike as your body acclimates gently and you believe that two days, four days or even six are manageable.
The road has gone and the forest trail is steep, rocky and slippery in places. I’m no arborist, a tree is a tree to me. Maybe birch, maybe ash but either way the watery, green landscape is such a contrast to anything western USA. I love it.
There is much I don’t know about how the next few days will play out. A bridge across a stream seems almost mundane but it was in fact a rarity, replaced by sometime futile attempts to tip toe from rock to rock over wide, fast moving water. Calamity awaits?
I ask if it’s a BBQ, I somewhat know it isn’t but it has similar girth and structure. It’s a drying rack, once again something that I didn’t realize at this point would be a God send at the end of each day’s hike. This is a very wet place in a month that is traditionally very wet in Norway, buyer beware!
The hamlet was not what I expected.
It’s charming, we have a mix of old, new and practical. Piles and piles of logs ready for a fire add to charm. A highly directional cellular antenna reflects the remoteness of this place. Nestled in a meadow between mountains, streams running through and each cabin with a sedum roof, I half expect to see trolls or dwarfs swilling mead around a camp fire, singing.
This is one of the more idyllic camp spots I’ve ever been to.
I’ve hiked and camped lots albeit in the western USA. In tents, in my Jeep even under the stars cold and shelterless.
This was magical, this was a treat and the glow within will live on.
What’s not to love about Norway?