Balestrand to Oslo
In the view of mountains and a fjord, I played a battle of chess with the frightening spectre of ... well, not Death, but a figure almost as scary: Sarah in the morning.
But earlier, I set an alarm to get up and take in some of Balestrand before our late morning ferry.
This is the view from our hotel. I suppose I could get used to the view, but it would take a while.
This church caught my eye for its small size and bright colouring.
This is the view uphill from the town, as the fjord continues inland.
I picked up some more picnicking groceries nearby and settled back at our room. Sarah and I went down to the lobby and played board games overlooking the fjord. Later we packed up, got another ride to the quayside, and boarded the ferry to our next destination, Flam.
This ride, about an hour, had our best fjord views yet.
We were told this is the narrowest fjord in Norway.
It's tempting to say that, having seen one fjord, you've seen them all. After a while, even though you're surrounded by all this majestic scenery, the urge to take pictures and keenly observe just lessens. It gets overwhelming.
village
We saw the occasional village like this. We also occasionally saw tiny huts that seemed only accessible by boat.
We landed in Flam, where we had a few hours before boarding a train uphill to Myrdal. We got some pictures like this one ...
... but mostly we sat reading on a bench in the train station. I was outside at one point when a train gave a quick honk on its horn. The echo sustained so finely that it was like a tuning fork had been struck.
As an aside, with all the tourists we've been sharing rides with, I've developed a serious case of DSLR Envy. I've been eyeing a digital SLR camera for some time. Our seven-year-old digital camera does most of what I would want anyway, but with a DSLR I could get better low-light shots, get shots quicker, and do some artistic things with focal length and metering. But really, it would be nice just to have a flash bit of kit in my hands, to feel that solid shutter mechanism, the feel of a lens locked onto the body ... guy stuff.
The train from Flam to Myrdal is only about an hour but it's slower as it has a steep climb - from sea level to about 860 meters, going through 20 tunnels on the way. It's the first time I've wanted to chew gum on a train (to help ease the change in ear pressure).
The view was like a model train set that we happened to be in. Lush valley floors, impossibly steep mountains, and occasional waterfalls.
Margo had recounted the story of a particular waterfall along the route. The story says that behind the waterfall is a beautiful woman who tempts men to their doom. Along the way the train announcer also mentioned the legend.
Then we made a five minute photo stop at the falls. After a minute, some Enya-like Nordic music came from hidden speakers, and then there was an actress dancing in costume on rocks in front of the falls. Sheesh. A nice slice of Jarlsberg cheese.
We got to see the Myrdal station from below on the way up. We had a short break at the station and then boarded the train to Oslo. It was raining by this time.
This was a long journey, about six hours. Both trains, and the stations we saw, were quite modern and clean. The trains featured natural wood paneling and/or accents inside. This train was also quite comfortable.
Since Myrdal we'd been above the treeline. For a while our scenery featured pockets of snow among the rocks. We also saw the occasional summer home, some with sod roofs.
Soon we broke out our picnic supplies and were eating salami slices, wasa crisps, cheese slices, cream cheese with herb spread, peas, apples, and "Melkesjokolade" milk chocolate. Little bottles of Merlot from the train's dining car rounded out a nice meal. Happy tummies, happy views ... the pleasures of slow travel.
As yet another aside, I have not been shaving. I'm letting my inner Viking emerge. Sarah keeps touching it.
Sarah: What's for dessert?
Me: Watermelon. I've been carrying it with me this whole time.
Margo: Oh, so that's what's under your sweater.
Sarah saw me writing notes in a notepad and wanted to do some writing herself. So for much of our trip we exchanged written insults. Ah, the love of a daughter for her father.
Sarah: "Dad works for www.picknose.co.uk."
Me: "Sarah is a troll. She lives in a wet cold cave and comes out to scare babies and whinge at her parents."
And perhaps Sarah's first work of poetry:
Dad has a bum
He always sucks his thumb and
He is a plum
As it got darker outside, the trees returned to the scenery, and the mountains got smaller. Hours later we saw the lights of office buildings in the suburbs of Oslo. The central train station in Oslo looked quite large and modern and I wished I could see it in daylight. It was a short cab ride to our hotel, and we arrived around 11 pm, ready for a good night's rest to see our largest city yet tomorrow.
But earlier, I set an alarm to get up and take in some of Balestrand before our late morning ferry.
This is the view from our hotel. I suppose I could get used to the view, but it would take a while.
This church caught my eye for its small size and bright colouring.
This is the view uphill from the town, as the fjord continues inland.
I picked up some more picnicking groceries nearby and settled back at our room. Sarah and I went down to the lobby and played board games overlooking the fjord. Later we packed up, got another ride to the quayside, and boarded the ferry to our next destination, Flam.
This ride, about an hour, had our best fjord views yet.
We were told this is the narrowest fjord in Norway.
It's tempting to say that, having seen one fjord, you've seen them all. After a while, even though you're surrounded by all this majestic scenery, the urge to take pictures and keenly observe just lessens. It gets overwhelming.
village
We saw the occasional village like this. We also occasionally saw tiny huts that seemed only accessible by boat.
We landed in Flam, where we had a few hours before boarding a train uphill to Myrdal. We got some pictures like this one ...
... but mostly we sat reading on a bench in the train station. I was outside at one point when a train gave a quick honk on its horn. The echo sustained so finely that it was like a tuning fork had been struck.
As an aside, with all the tourists we've been sharing rides with, I've developed a serious case of DSLR Envy. I've been eyeing a digital SLR camera for some time. Our seven-year-old digital camera does most of what I would want anyway, but with a DSLR I could get better low-light shots, get shots quicker, and do some artistic things with focal length and metering. But really, it would be nice just to have a flash bit of kit in my hands, to feel that solid shutter mechanism, the feel of a lens locked onto the body ... guy stuff.
The train from Flam to Myrdal is only about an hour but it's slower as it has a steep climb - from sea level to about 860 meters, going through 20 tunnels on the way. It's the first time I've wanted to chew gum on a train (to help ease the change in ear pressure).
The view was like a model train set that we happened to be in. Lush valley floors, impossibly steep mountains, and occasional waterfalls.
Margo had recounted the story of a particular waterfall along the route. The story says that behind the waterfall is a beautiful woman who tempts men to their doom. Along the way the train announcer also mentioned the legend.
Then we made a five minute photo stop at the falls. After a minute, some Enya-like Nordic music came from hidden speakers, and then there was an actress dancing in costume on rocks in front of the falls. Sheesh. A nice slice of Jarlsberg cheese.
We got to see the Myrdal station from below on the way up. We had a short break at the station and then boarded the train to Oslo. It was raining by this time.
This was a long journey, about six hours. Both trains, and the stations we saw, were quite modern and clean. The trains featured natural wood paneling and/or accents inside. This train was also quite comfortable.
Since Myrdal we'd been above the treeline. For a while our scenery featured pockets of snow among the rocks. We also saw the occasional summer home, some with sod roofs.
Soon we broke out our picnic supplies and were eating salami slices, wasa crisps, cheese slices, cream cheese with herb spread, peas, apples, and "Melkesjokolade" milk chocolate. Little bottles of Merlot from the train's dining car rounded out a nice meal. Happy tummies, happy views ... the pleasures of slow travel.
As yet another aside, I have not been shaving. I'm letting my inner Viking emerge. Sarah keeps touching it.
Sarah: What's for dessert?
Me: Watermelon. I've been carrying it with me this whole time.
Margo: Oh, so that's what's under your sweater.
Sarah saw me writing notes in a notepad and wanted to do some writing herself. So for much of our trip we exchanged written insults. Ah, the love of a daughter for her father.
Sarah: "Dad works for www.picknose.co.uk."
Me: "Sarah is a troll. She lives in a wet cold cave and comes out to scare babies and whinge at her parents."
And perhaps Sarah's first work of poetry:
Dad has a bum
He always sucks his thumb and
He is a plum
As it got darker outside, the trees returned to the scenery, and the mountains got smaller. Hours later we saw the lights of office buildings in the suburbs of Oslo. The central train station in Oslo looked quite large and modern and I wished I could see it in daylight. It was a short cab ride to our hotel, and we arrived around 11 pm, ready for a good night's rest to see our largest city yet tomorrow.
posted by Michael Nelson at 12:42 am
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