‘…Bergen? Rain and dank mountains’ said Jo Nesbo in his 2005
novel The Redeemer.
Flam is a small village in the floor of the Flamsdalen
valley at the beginning of the Aurlandsfjorden, about 165kms north east of
Bergen on the E16, the major route connecting Bergen to Oslo. It’s one of the
innermost points of the fjords, where cruise ships dock in the summer, disgorging
their waddling passengers to flood into the souvenir shops, buy their
over-priced made-in-China memorabilia of Norway, scoff some authentic Norwegian
burgers and ice-creams, and waddle back on-board satisfied that they have ‘done
Norway’.
Fortunately it isn’t summer!
Unfortunately, while the ships aren’t here and we have this
most spectacularly, hauntingly beautiful place to share with just the locals, a
few hardy fellow campers and the occasional coach load of Japanese tourists
(who waddle off their coaches into the souvenir shops…well, you get the picture),
it does mean that Jo Nesbo was right – it rains, rains and rains again!
We arrived here from Oslo yesterday. The drive, about
330kms, was exceptionally scenic, winding our way through the heart of Norway
past beautiful fjords, lakes, farming country and more mountainous woodlands.
The forests are mixed deciduous and coniferous, and are just beginning to
develop their autumn hues. For most of the journey the roads were reasonable,
although as we our distance from Oslo increased they narrowed and turned and
twisted in ever tighter convolutions, climbing deeper into the mountains. In
several places, carefully managed road works saw us restricted to a single lane
as the road was being widened and improved. Until, that is, after a particularly
narrow stretch in which we had to pull right over to the edge to allow oncoming
trucks to hurtle down past us we suddenly, without any warning, dropped off the
smooth bitumen onto a rough un-made surface and found ourselves literally in
the middle of a massive road construction programme. We bounced and rattled our way along for what
must have been 10 or more kms, dodging the behemoth earth moving machines, and
coming to abrupt halts as we tried to interpret the haphazard signs indicating
which bits of the rubble we were supposed to drive on. The car and caravan ran doggedly
on, and we even managed to laugh at the extraordinary change in road conditions
on this, one of the most important road links in Norway. And then as suddenly
and without warning as it had begun, we were back on smooth bitumen, winding
our way up to the summit of the pass at about 3,000’ and through a reasonably
big ski resort.
As we began our descent the road improved enormously and we made
good progress towards the Laerdals Tunnel, at 24kms the world’s longest road
tunnel. We had a good view as we approached, and all gulped as we entered the
black void. George and Charlie had to accept defeat quickly – their normal game
of holding their breath through tunnels was over almost before we’d begun. The
tunnel winds its way down through the mountain cutting out what must have been
a very long and challenging pas. Along its length it emerges three times into
larger caverns, brightly lit in blues and greens. Finally, after driving what
must be a similar distance to the channel rail tunnel, we emerged just a couple
of kilometres before arriving in Flam. It is a truly awesome feat of
engineering – how on earth the planners, geologists and engineers managed to
conceive a tunnel of such incredible length, plot its route through the
mountain, and then actually build it is almost beyond comprehension and
deserving of the greatest admiration.
So we arrived at the campsite at about 3.30pm (we’d managed
to get away from Oslo at a very respectable 9.30am) and were shown to our pitch
by the very nice site owner. He parked
us on a track rather than on the grass, which is very waterlogged. The site is
beautiful – overlooking the river which is swollen, fast moving but crystal
clear; overlooked by the spectacular mountains on either side as they climb
rapidly up into their shrouds of mist and cloud; and just a short walk from the
really rather lovely village and its rail terminus, cruise ship berths and
shops. The site has been in the owner’s family for three generations and has
been beautifully developed with camping, log cabins and a youth hostel. Its
tracks undulate and wind around, with trees and shrubs including many apple
trees bearing lovely ripe fruit.
It’s too wet to put up the awning, but we’ve managed to
develop a good system for coping with all of us in the caravan. The car stays
full with all the gear we normally stow in it (we carry almost all of our
equipment including the awning, poles and pegs and everything else stowed in
plastic boxes stacked in the boot, keeping weight out of the caravan) plus the
few odds and ends which travel in the caravan, leaving the caravan uncluttered
and comfortable for four. The evening was wet so we huddled down to a David Attenborough
DVD, although Frances and I did manage a stroll through the village after
dinner.
It rained hard all night, and continued to do so this
morning, so after a relatively leisurely start we donned our wet weather gear
and made our way to the railway station to join the beginning of the Flamsbana.
This is another of Flam’s ‘world’s biggest’…this time, the world’s steepest
friction (as opposed to funicular or cable) railway, winding its way through
the beautiful Flam valley to Myrdel at 866m over its 20km route. This is amazingly
steep – 1:18 or 55% at its steepest. The rain had played a big advantage – the railway
followed the route of the river, gushing its way down the mountain, and was
lined with the most spectacular waterfalls in full flood, dropping hundreds of
feet in raging torrents or as curtains of water cascading from the mountain tops.
The mountains were shrouded in mist and cloud, but this broke to reveal
glaciers and ice-filled corries dotted amongst their crests. At Myrdel, the
summit, we disembarked, zipped up, pulled our hoods over our hats, and set off
on the hike back down the mountain. The only others brave enough to do so were
a group of teenagers on bicycles (very unsuited to the terrain with no
suspension and inadequate gears) with panniers and back-packs carrying their
camping gear who were unsteadily making their way down the mountain, looking
pretty forlorn and at times terrified as they slipped and sloshed past us. We
hiked across bridges over the torrential river, under curtains of water
cascading down the mountain, down the precipitous track with its 21 hairpins,
and down into the valley, where we found a goat farm selling its produce. We
stopped to buy cheese and salami from the very nice Dutch girl running the farm
for the summer – she’s lived and farmed here for several years having studied
agriculture locally. We pressed on, and despite the rain arrived at the midway
station after hiking for 8kms in good spirits, just before the train emerged
from the tunnel and hooted its response to our waving it to stop. It was a
really intrepid adventure for us all – a great way to get the real flavour of
Norway’s spectacular scenery.
Tomorrow we’re off on a kayaking tour on the fjord. Like most
things here, it’s eye-wateringly expensive, but will be a much nicer way to
discover the fjord than sitting on a large cruise vessel with a piped
commentary in four languages! Let’s just hope that the rain finally abates as
its forecast to do. We’re here for Thursday too, and will depart on Friday for
the long trip back to Oslo and on to Karlstad in Sweden – will have to be an
early start for that trip!
PS. Once again, we only have internet access here sitting on
a bench outside the laundry room, so I’m afraid that posting photos will have
to wait for a few more days.
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