The Norway TripA couple of years ago, after helping to rebuild my good friend Redwood Fryxell's garden fence and fix his electrics, I decided that it was time for an expedition. The original idea was Turkey, but I decided that Norway in March was even crazier. However there is a small oasis of sanity even within Propaganda's deranged mind, so I did actually look at a web camera of Bergen to see if the snow was above sea-level. It appeared to be about 500 feet, meaning a would-be polar explorer like me could actually think in terms of camping. Yippee! I hitch-hiked to North Shields, where I caught the boat to Norway - only �65 at that time of year. I shared a cabin with a Scot on an anti-English tirade - after growing up in Glasgow, which is a hell-hole, I find this kind of nationalist crap boring We reached the Norwegian Coast next day, and it is stunningly, stunningly beautiful. The Scot got off at Stavanger and for the rest of the day we threaded our way up the stunningly stunningly beautiful Norwegian coast (did I say that before?) - mountains, glaciers, islands, sea - wonderful. However it was fucking cold - who was that fool who thought he was going to camp? We arrived in Bergen, which is the most stunningly beautiful city I've ever seen, set amid mountains and lakes, after dark and I got a bus to the youth hostel in the suburb of Montana |
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This is a very friendly youth hostel with a view over the city, and not much more expensive than a British youth hostel - Norway is very very expensive, partly because it has one of the best welfare states in the world. Anyway the food is superb - a cold breakfast of muesli, yoghurt and raw fish in tomato sauce on bread - as much as you can eat. Being me, the first thing I had to do was climb Ulriken, the mountain behind the youth hostel, which was great - good views etc. Didn't take too long, and then I went down into Bergen with the objective of walking over the mountains to Arna and hitching from there. However it was very late when I set off from the top of the funicular railway at Mount Floyen. I followed two teenage girls and their dogs over the top of Rundemansvein, but realised that it was very late to be that high up and so made a cirle back towards the city. However I found a little open hut in the snow and managed to build a platform to sleep on. It was cold! Next day I walked back up the track and continued North, but chickened out of walking over a steep icy slope with an overhang below it. I then watched a Norwegian granny ski over it So much for my mountain skills! So back down to the youth hostel again. I asked them about hitch-hiking and they said it is very difficult in Norway - they got me worried because I didn't have much money and if I couldn't hitch out of Bergen I would have to stay there until the boat back. Added to that is the fact that because of Bergen's layout, it is actually difficult to hitch out of. I eventually discovered that the solution was to get the cheap train (about �1) under the mountains to Arna. What I really wanted to do was go and spend some days camping and walking on the island of Osteroy, NE of Bergen, but I was worried I would get stuck if I didn't get a lift. It turned out to be nonsense - it is easy to hitch-hike in Norway and I had no problem getting lifts.
That night I got a lift as far as Aurlandsfjord and slept out. When I got up, I realised that I'd come a long way and that hitch-hiking isn't a problem. So I wanted to see a proper fiord. I was just South of Sogne Fjord, and as I looked at the map, I suddenly saw a village with the name of Kaupanger. Kaupanger! I have a confession to make, readers. For some years now, I have been addicted to a computer game called Civilisation, where you start of as a stone age tribe and develop your civilisation up to the present day, in competition with other civilisations. (I play as Standing Bear of the Sioux, and I always get a kick out of wiping out the Americans.) The civilisation which always seemed to cause most trouble to mine was the damn Vikings, who on particular occasion, continually bombed the cities of a piece of territory I had recently taken over, and wiped them out, no matter how many SAM batteries, fighters, mechanised infantry battalions I put in them. You may not have realised until now that the Vikings have developed bombers, but I tell you, they are lethal, man! And the Viking Capital is, wait for it, Kaupanger! Now as I'm sure you know, we depraved ones are always anxious to corrupt other innocents and so while Pete was helping me build Redwood's fence I got him hooked on Civilisation. I was sure that he would be playing currently and that he would have discovered espionage by now. So I thought what I have to do is get to Kaupanger and steal the Viking secrets! The first secret I came across is the Norwegian obsession with building tunnels. No, we're not talking about some simple little 50 metre burrow through the side of a hill here. We're talking, for example, about the Laerdal tunnel, at 24.5 km the longest road tunnel in the world, which goes under a mountain range. Any excuse and the Norwegians will build a tunnel. If there are two villages on opposite sides of a village and someone from one village visits the other once every three years, the Norwegians will build a tunnel. It's obvious, innit? It's where the Vikings hide during bombing raids. So 007 here, stood as innocuously as possible outside the Laerdal tunnel and hitched a lift through it. I didn't see any Vikings but maybe Pete wasn't bombing today I reached the ferry across Sogne fjord a couple of hours later - you can guess - stunningly beautiful and all that - winding through towering mountains and beautiful forests. I managed to overshoot Kaupanger in my next lift and arrived in Sogndal. I immediately realised this was a bridge too far. Although Sogndal is only 30 km North of Laerdal and they're both on Sogne fjord the snow was a foot deep at sea level. And no youth hostel. I wandered along the shore for a few km and eventually found a snow free patch in a forest where I camped. In case you hadn't guessed it was bloody freezing. Packet soup and bread for breakfast and back to Kaupanger. .... which is .... stunningly beautiful - all right it is set in a little horseshoe bay in the fjord. I went down to the deserted harbour, past the historic stave church and wandered around. The Vikings were obviously hiding. What I need is Info, I thought. Suddenly, in front of me was a dilapated looking hut with a handwritten sign saying Info in the window. I knocked on the door and was immediately invited in by Christian Zurbucken, who immediately plied me with tea and delicious Gammalost cheese sandwiches. As you will see if you look click on the link, Gammalost is an old Viking Cheese. So I was able to send a postcard to Pete saying "Sire, at great personal risk (of freezing to death) I have penetrated the Viking capital of Kaupanger and stolen the secrets of big tunnels and Gammalost cheese." Christian, who actually isn't a Viking but a Swiss agricultural ecologist, very kindly invited me back to his farm for lunch and he told me a lot about Kaupanger (which is Viking for market) Then he drove me back to the ferry. That night I camped above the snowline in Laerdal and next day hitched all the way to Oslo, the capital of Norway, in a single lift. I have to admit that I had no particular interest in Oslo and only stayed there for one night. Next day I cheated and caught a bus (Safflebus - they're cheaper - you pay on the bus) to Denmark via Sweden. Sweden seems to me composed of hundreds of miles of relentless pine forest, with the occasional town or village. I saw little agriculture, and I came to the conclusion that the Swedes must eat trees. However I was very impressed with Goteburg bus station - you could actually go and just hang out there for a day. Although the bus went to Kopenhagen, I decided to get off at Helsingor, after the ferry from Sweden. Helsingor castle, which sticks out into the sea, features in Hamlet, and being me, even though I was tired and needed to find somewhere to camp, I decided to walk around it in the pitch-dark - meaning I had to climb around a fence and over the waves on the way back. I walked out into a forest, but as it is a public park I couldn't put a tent up. So I was sitting there in the dark and a freezing wind, feeling rather glum, when suddenly I heard a SQUEEEEK SQUEEEEK coming towards me. What should appear out of the darkness, only 100 metres away, but the little squeaky train. That cheered me up no end that did. Next day I hitched into Kopenhagen. Now gentle reader, you may not be aware of this, but in Copenhagen there is the biggest squat in the world, Christiania, an old army base taken over by squatters in 1971. Propaganda was hoping to stay there for a night, but despite the fact that Christiania is very impressive physically, they are very rich, full of themselves, unfriendly and only interested in you if you are a rich tourist - they certainly couldn't care less about a penniless squatter from London. If you are very impressed by people selling hash in kiosks this is the place for you. Frankly, I'm not. If you ever meet so-called squatters from there trading on the name of Christiania to get themselves a place to stay tell them to fuck off. But an interesting piece written about Denmark is this I would have liked to stay in Kopenhagen and had a look at it, but as I had little money I had to start hitching to Germany - I was given completely misleading directions from the Christiania squatters, who have probably never had to hitch-hike in their pristine little lives.
I spent a day hitching through Germany - I always enjoy being in Germany - it's the easiest place to get a lift in Europe and the people are always kind. However darkness found me in the city of Groningen, in the North of Holland, in the pouring rain - the very trendy youth hostel was full, I was cold and I didn't have much money left. But as I was by the station I thought I would ask out of curiosity, the fare to Rotterdam. Shit - I had forgotten how cheap Dutch trains are. So I phoned Emmie in Rotterdam and turned up on her doorstep after midnight. Great trip - I shall return to Norway when I get the chance! |