Random thoughts on Norway

LET'S BOUNCE: For some reason, Norwegians seem to own a lot of trampolines. I know, it sounds strange, but I've seen plenty Norwegian yards in my time here, and an awful lot of these yards feature big, blue trampolines. I have formulated a few theories as to why this might be the case:

• Norwegians have difficulty understanding the Theory of Gravity, and the only way they can grasp it is by empirically observing its results. They do this by repeatedly attempting to launch their bodies into deep space, only to be pulled back to Earth each time. What device makes all this possible? You guessed it: the trampoline. After spending several weeks bouncing away perplexedly, the Norwegian eventually has an epiphany, and the Theory of Gravity is understood. He/she then celebrates with a $12 beer.
• In order to remain outdoors for any length of time, Norwegians must remain in bouncy perpetual motion in order to avoid the hordes of pterodactyl-like mosquitos.
• Norwegian women like to welcome overseas visitors by donning skimpy clothing, bouncing on trampolines, and giggling, a la The Man Show's "Girls Jumping on Trampolines." (I am still waiting for this to happen).

THE GASP: This one truly perplexes me. You know how when Americans have a conversation with somebody, they might say "yeah" or "uh huh" as an expression of affirmation, or simply to let the speaker know he/she is listening? Well, in Norway, they don't say "yeah" or "uh huh," even when they're speaking English. Instead, they make a bizarre noise that I have never heard anywhere else. It's basically a combination of "yah" and a quick gasp. It's like they're trying to say "yah," but they get confused and inhale instead of exhale. When I first heard this sound, I thought I was saying something shocking or offensive, which surprised me because I figured train schedules would be the last thing to offend anybody. Then I started hearing people using it EVERYWHERE! If someone can explain this to me, please do.

KRONER? I HARDLY EVEN KNOW HER!: The kroner (crown) is the Norwegian unit of currency. I hate to beat a dead horse, but if you ever visit Norway, don't get to attached to them as you'll be parting company with an awful lot of kroners in various denominations. While here, I asked around and determined that Norway is almost unanimously regarded as the most expensive country in Scandinavia (including Iceland). I also found out (from people who had visited both countries) that Japan is slightly cheaper than Norway. This settled it for me: Norway is, without a doubt, the most expensive country on the planet. I mean, think about it. The only other countries that could possibly come close would be the other Scandinavian countries and Japan, and Norway apparently bests them all. Most Norwegians don't seem too worried about this, probably because they (or their government, at least) are sitting on a ridiculous amount of oil wealth. Another mind-boggling example of how expensive it is here: On more than one occasion, I have paid the equivalent of $1.54 to use a pay toilet. I shit you not (pun definitely intended).

THE ARYAN NATION: Norway has the reputation of being chock full of beautiful, blonde-haired, blue-eyed people. I found this to be only partially true. I will say that Norway certainly has a higher per-capita allocation of physical beauty than most places I have lived in or visited, but I was also surprised to find a large number of rather homely bumpkins running about. On several occasions, I was unable to tell whether an individual was a native Norwegian or a German tourist (not a good thing). So, in my opinion, the overall beauty title resides with...Denmark. If you have read my previous posts, you probably gathered that I was, shall we say, "smitten" with the Danish womenfolk. I have decided (and I think archeological and anthropological evidence will bear this out) that Denmark is the "nexus of hotness" in Europe: the epicenter from which European beauty radiates. I will be publishing my findings in the next issue of "Nature."

Universal Reader's Poll: To beard, or not to beard?

As certain detail-oriented readers may have noticed from the pictures I've posted, I've been growing a bit of a beard over the past month or so. It was essentially an issue of curiosity, as I had never really tried growing one before. The only time when I came close was when I decided to stop shaving during my Spring Break Breckenridge ski trip of 2003. The result of that brief foray was termed "the Grizzly Adams look" by Jon Crilly.

Well, I figured that a multi-week jaunt through the Norwegian wilderness would be the perfect time to really give this beard thing a shot, as there wouldn't be many people around to make snide remarks (in Norwegian) about my shabby appearance, and even if they did, I would be too tired to care. Plus, a scraggly beard fits the "mountain man" persona quite well, I've discovered.

Anyways, here's how the beard looks at the moment:

Personally, I'm getting kind of sick of it (I think it makes me look like a goddamn bum) and I have a good mind just to take the whole thing off, but I wanted to turn the question over to my loyal readership first. So, beard or no beard? Leave a comment and throw in your two cents. Feel free to type "Anonymous" in the name field if you like (you cowards).

Now is the time to let your voice be heard! Excercise your God-given right to comment on my facial hair! Rock the vote!

The pilgrim's pictures

The "glass cathedral" at Hamar. A giant steel/glass "greenhouse" was erected around the ruins of the cathedral to prevent weather damage:

One of the pilegrimsleden waymarks in the middle of a construction site. It was nice of them to leave it standing:

A particularly idyllic Norwegian farm:

Mossy track:

The group of Norwegian Rotarians that fed and rehydrated me:

You might notice that this picture is a slightly crooked and out of focus. That's because I was being chased by 5,000 mosquitos when I took it and couldn't stop to get a clear exposure:

Ringebu stave church. Stave churches are built using an ancient design where wooden pillars are driven straight into the ground, rather than using a typical foundation. I think they are found only in Scandinavia:

The 700 year old pilgrim lodge that I stayed in at Sygard Grytting:

The interior (and exterior) of an old stable that I slept in at Budsjord:

The moors of Dovrefjell:

Allmannrøysa, a big cairn in Dovrefjell:

The tiny village of Ryphusan, where I spent a night in Dovrefjell:

My first view of the Nidaros Cathedral as I descended into Trondheim:

The cathedral from across the river:

20 days and 643 km later...

...I finally made it to Trondheim!

Or, as the Great Sajeeva would say: "I'm done, bitches! Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!"

Actually, it was two days ago on the 19th that I finished, but I just didn't have a chance to post about it until now. I was actually pretty surprised that I was able to complete the walk as quickly as I did. I don't know if I set any records or anything (because nobody keeps track of that stuff), but I do know that I got to Trondheim at least 5 days faster than the "average" pilgrim. Not that it was a race or anything...I guess I just like to keep a good pace.

Walking down from the hills and into the city was sort of an odd experience for me. On one hand, it was good to know that I would be finished soon and would be able to rest for a while. On the other, the past 20 days had flown by so fast and I had seen so many beautiful things that I kinda didn't want it to end.

It seemed like the closer I got to the Nidaros Cathedral, the more conflicting thoughts and feelings came into my head. Most of the tension was religious/spiritual in nature. Once I sat down in the courtyard in front of the cathedral, I suddenly felt this powerful connection with all the pilgrims who had made the same journey in the past, some nearly a thousand years ago. It was very intense to realize that I had, in a way, just become a member of such an ancient fellowship. But at the same time, I was troubled by questions of why I had made the pilgrimmage in the first place. Obviously, it was not for the same reasons as the original pilgrims, as I had no expectations of miracles or divine intervention upon my arrival. I knew that the "true" pilgrims were drawn to Nidaros not because they enjoyed natural scenery or wanted to "see Norway," but because they were compelled to go by a powerful sense of faith. And that kind of faith is something I just don't have.

So why did I do it? Why did I choose to spend 20 days walking to a place I could have reached in 4 hours by train? Why was I sitting in front of that cathedral, sweating like a pig, with a giant pack on my back? To be perfectly honest, I don't really know. It is true that, before I departed, the whole thing just "felt right," but I have a hard time accepting that a rational person would undertake such an immense task based on something so nebulous. I guess I'm starting to accept that it may take some time, perhaps a long time, before I fully understand what this pilgrimmage means to me. I'm banking on the hope that with experience and reflection, I'll have a clearer picture of what compelled me to set off in the first place, and how things have changed now that I'm done. I wish I could say that, while perched atop some Norwegian mountain peak or in the shadow of an awe-inspiring cathedral, I had some sort of epiphany, some kind of earth-shattering insight into my life, because that sort of thing makes for very interesting writing. But I suppose that I should know by now that those epiphanies never seem to arrive when I want or expect them to.

So, now that I'm finally here, what am I doing? Well, not a whole lot, and that's okay with me. I think I need a little down time to digest all that's happened in the past few weeks. Lucky for me, I've been CouchSurfing again with a Norwegian couple, and they've been so great about making me feel at home while I'm here. Just what the doctor ordered.

So what's the next step? Well, tonight I'm taking the bus down to Bergen to check that area out. I mean, as long as I'm here I might as well, right? And after that I'll probably head back to Oslo, take it easy for a few days, and then...well, I'll save that for another post.

Bear with me for a little while and I'll have a new post with a few more Norway pics up in a jiffy.

The Pilgrim's Progress, Part III

493 km down, 150 to go!

Right now I find myself in the town of Oppdal, a small community that appears to thrive on farming in the summer, and ski tourism in the winter. I've decided to take a rest day here, and I'm staying at the local youth hostel, nestled between two ski resorts which, as you might guess, are pretty much dead at the moment. Like most of the towns I've visited on my northward trek, not a whole lot is going on here.

But it's been an interesting week or so since I last posted. After leaving Lillehammer, I slogged through the neverending ascents and descents of the Gudbrandsdal valley, wandered through the open moorlands of the Dovrefjell plateau, and finally descended to the wide, flat Driva valley. Here are the highlights:

A couple days after leaving Lillehammer, it got unreasonably hot. I'm not sure what the actual high temperatures were, but they had to be approaching 90. So I'm trudging along the Losna river valley, sweating my ass off, when I see a group of people up on a cliff ahead. A (shouted) conversation ensuded that went something like this:

(unintelligible Norwegian phrase)
"I'm sorry, I don't speak Norsk very well."
(more unintelligible Norwegian speech)
"No, I mean I don't speak Norsk. I know English and German."
"Oh, where are you from?"
"The United States."
"USA?"
"Which state?"
"Minnesota."
"Oh, we were just talking about Minnesota. Would you like to come up
for a drink?"
"YES!!!"

So I turn up a driveway and am greeted by a group of about 8 Norwegians, all of them at least 65 years old. Turns out that they were Rotarians, and they were responsible for maintaining the Olav's Way trail through the Øyer kommune, so they were happy to meet an actual pilgrim using their section of the trail. Not only did they give me water, but they also fed me cake with fresh cream and strawberries, coffee cake, and homemade juice (from "solbære," literally, "sun berries," whatever those are). It was such a refreshing break from all the walking/roasting I'dbeen doing. The stop delayed me by about an hour and a half, though, so it was approaching 8:00 when I hit the road again for the last 7 km to Ringebu. In this region of Norway, 8:00 is apparently when the mosquitos come out. Oh. My. God. I have never seen so many mosquitos in my life. There was literally a cloud of them following me for at least 5 km. And since mosquitos had not been a problem up to that point, I had no insect repellant with me. So I basically walked as fast as I could (full-on sprinting at times), swatting my legs, arms, and neck with my hat. It was exhausting, and I'm sure I looked ridiculous running through the woods, flailing about like a maniac. And despite my best efforts, I still got bit about 50 times. Not fun.

The next day was much better. I stayed at an ancient farm called Sygard Grytting, which has been under continuous ownership of the Grytting family since the 13th century. To top it off, I slept in the oldest buidling on the farm, an actual, original pilgrim lodge that was built around 1300. Trondheim-bound pilgrims stayed there as early as 700 years ago! Additionally, it is known that Norwegian King Magnus Magnusson stayed there in 1311. That's some serious history.

A couple days later, I had an encounter with a moose. I was walking through a rocky pine forest, and just as I crested a ridge, I heard a rustle up hill. That's when I saw, about 20 feet from me, a fully-grown female moose. She took off down the hill right away, so I wasn't able to take a picture, but it was a cool experience!

That night, for the first time, I met some other people who were hiking Olav's Way. I wouldn't call them pilgrims, per se, as only one was making the full Oslo -> Trondheim journey, and she was having the bulk of her gear carried ahead by car each day (instead of carrying it on her back). The American hiking community calls this "slack packing." But maybe I should cut her a break since she appeared to be around 70 years old. Anyways, everyone in the group was Norwegian, at least 50 years old, and most didn't speak English very well, so we didn't have much in common. Nevertheless, we stuck together for about a day and a half. An especially nice part was when we all sat down to a traditional rømmegrøt dinner at Budsjord Gard. Rømmegrøt, I am told, is made by boiling sour cream and adding flour, producing a sort of porridge. You sprinkle cinnamon and sugar on top and eat it with a spoon. I had my doubts about it, but it was actually quite good.

I spent the last two days hiking through the Dovrefjell region, which is definitely near the top of my "coolest places I have visited" list. It's basically a huge plateau flanked by mountain peaks on all sides. Once you get in the middle of it, it's wide open moorland as far as the eye can see. The wind just howls up there. It's one of those places that gives you a real feeling of isolation, when you can't help but stop and think, "man, I am really OUT THERE!" I'll post pictures when I get a chance.

So those have been the goings on of the past week. I'm basically in the home stretch now, and I'd guess that I'll be in Trondheim within 5 or 6 days. Once the pilgrimmage has come to an end, I'll be able to do a proper blog post (w/ pictures) and plan my next move.

See you in Trondheim!

The Pilgrim's Progress, Part II

224 km down, 491 to go!

Yesterday I made it to Lillehammer, pretty much my last stop on the shores of Lake Mjøsa. It's a nice little town, and of course you can still see the remnants of the '94 Winter Olympics everywhere. Sometimes you get the impression that they're still riding that one for all it's worth: "Visit Lillehammer, a really exciting place to be 11 years ago!"

Not too much to report, really, although the situation with my feet has improved considerably. With foot pain less of an issue, I think I'm really starting to hit my stride.

Oh, and one more thing before I go. I think I mentioned a few posts back that Switzerland was the most expensive country ever. I'd like to make a correction: Switzerland can't even hold a candle to Norway in terms of sheer unaffordability. Example: I took a 3.5 km cab ride back in Hamar, and I couldn't believe my eyes when I read the meter at the end. 120 kroner, folks. For those not up on their exchange rates, that's almost twenty American dollars. Let me repeat that. Twenty dollars. For a 4-minute cab ride. Christ on toast, that's expensive! I've been trying to think of all the countries that could potentially be even more expensive than Norway, and all I can come up with are Iceland and Japan. But I think the chances are good that Norway is actually the most expensive country on the face of the globe.

Alright, gripe over. Time to start walking again!

The Pilgrim's Progress

158 kilometers down, 485 to go!

Yesterday evening I strolled (more like staggered) into Hamar, my first major milestone on the road to Trondheim. If you look at it strictly from a numbers perspective, I'm already a quarter of the way there! Of course, the terrain gets much rougher north of Lillehammer, so I'm not expecting to put in 40-km days then like I have been so far.

Overall, things have been very good so far. I've seen plenty of beautiful countryside, met some nice people, and enjoyed the exercise. The only downside has been my feet. To put it mildly, they have taken a serious beating. I guess they're just not used to logging big miles each day, because now I have silver dollar-sized blisters on each of my heels, abrasions around my Achilles' tendons, and, at the end of the day the balls of my feet ache like a sonofabitch. So all that (along with the fact that I've basically been hauling ass thus far) led to my decision to take a rest day here in Hamar. I'm sure my feet will thank me for it. And, to top it off, the youth hostel here has free internet, enabling me to write this post, complete with PICTURES!

Here's where I started out: the ruins of the Mariakirke in Oslo's Gamle By (old city):

The first stone marker indicating the way to Trondheim/Nidaros. 643 km to go:

Unfortunately, the historic path out of Oslo goes straight through what is now a largely industrial area, so there wasn't much to photograph along that stretch. But as I ascended into the hills surrounding the city, things got much quieter, and much prettier:

After walking about 40 km, I made it to the first place I would spend the night, a farm called Arteid:

The Eriksen family, which owns the farm, were so friendly to me while I was there. I initially the daughters and their Russian au pair, and although their command of the English language was not great, they did their best to make me feel at home. When their father, Dagfinn came home, he set me up in a 200-year old farmhouse and gave me some food and beer. It was just what I needed after an exhausting day.

Relaxing with Lady, the family dog:

Of course, I continued walking the next morning. One thing you have to understand about Olav's Way is that it's not a wilderness trail, and sometimes not even a "trail" at all. In the past four days I've found myself walking through front and back yards, next to local roadways, across abandoned racecar tracks and shooting ranges (yikes!), along railroad tracks, and sometimes even straight through farm fields:

On the third night I stayed in a traditional "stabbur" at Hestnes Gård. A stabbur is basically a barn/farmhouse building elevated off the ground by stones or concrete pylons:

The next day, after a few hours of walking I was within striking distance of Hamar. I stopped to rest and have lunch at Stange Kirke, where I took these pictures:

The church itself:

503 km to go:

View of Lake Mjøsa from Stange Kirke:

So that's where I've been so far. Hopefully by tomorrow my feet will have recuperated enough to take on the next section of the trail, which traces the eastern shore of Lake Mjøsa to Lillehammer. Wish me luck!

Oh, one more thing before I go. I took this picture while I was still in Oslo. One of my new goals, after I get to Trondheim, is to go to a bar, order a can of this stuff, do a spit take, and exclaim, "Hey, this beer tastes like AASS!!!"