This Sunday adventure spanned the most miles of the trip, as well as the most landscapes, high and low, from snowy mountaintops to green valleys, purple petal-lined tracks to waterfall after waterfall after waterfall, to fjords that felt like the Manhattan of the natural world. As I had booked it through a tour company (the famous Norway in a Nutshell tour), it was also the most touristy adventure of the trip, and one that I would need the next few days in a quiet place to recover from.
The first part of the tour is on the Bergen Railway, where we traveled for about 5 hours from the suburbs of Oslo out past mirror lakes and rolling countryside, the mountains growing ever larger and ever more dramatic, the tunnels more frequent and longer, until you exit the darkness and find yourself cruising through a wild, rugged landscape of snowy peaks and gushing streams sparkling in the sun and flowers all abloom along the tracks and rocks, some of the world's happiest bikers pedaling the paths along the lakes. A fancy guide booklet was included with the tickets, so I read about the little towns as we passed through them.
I had an aisle seat next to a very reserved Swedish fellow who tried several times to speak to me in Swedish and Norwegian before realizing that I kept answering him in English. As we were in the back of the train and I didn't want to invade his personal bubble to take pictures, I hung out in the end compartment for long periods, where I had windows on both sides and out the back door. What a gorgeous journey. I would take that route again in a heartbeat, and this time all the way through to Bergen.
In Myrdal we changed to the Flåm Railway, a line that has an elevation change of about 2800 ft in a span of 50 minutes, with the views on either side being pretty spectacular. This is where the super touristy part kicked in, and as we stopped by a magnificent, roaring waterfall and suddenly dramatic music started playing and a woman in a long red dress was dancing among the stone ruins above us, I wondered what I'd gotten myself into.
Once we reached the valley, we had about an hour and a half to look around the tourist center of Flåm before starting the next segment of the trip via boat. I was grateful for a break at this point, as we'd been traveling for about seven hours already and my brain needed a quick break to recover from all the power oggling it had been doing.
When the time came, I boarded a swanky ship with many, many people from all over the world, and when an elderly but vivacious Spanish woman unabashedly elbowed me from my bench on the back deck, I took my things and made my way to the very front, staking my claim to some railing on the bow where I leaned for two hours as we cruised through the magnificent Aurlandsfjord and Nærøyfjord, the skyscraper mountains on either side poking at the clouds while the wind blew the waterfalls into the air long before they reached the ground. Villages nestled here and there at the base of the cliffs, dwarfed by the land masses towering above them. No sun, but also no rain. Just wind and a fully frozen me by the end of it, though I couldn't bring myself to go inside and miss out on the sheer act of being there. The pictures don't do this place justice, even on a cloudy day. (As always, just click on the photos for fullscreen.)
The ship arrived in Gudvangen with the first raindrops, and we all boarded buses that took us up and down tiny, winding mountain roads with -- surprise -- spectacular views, more waterfalls, the works.
In Voss we switched back to the Bergen Railway for the rest of the journey west, rolling through misty valleys dotted with sleepy towns. As far as the tour goes, you absolutely get your bang for your buck in terms of scenery, and I was glad I had done it, but will think again before booking a tour that involves being with hundreds of other tourists for hours on end.
It was 9pm by the time we got to Bergen, and though I was exhausted after traveling for over 13 hours, I didn't want to be in a hostel dorm room yet, so after checking in and dropping off my stuff, I headed out into the rain and walked around the old town in the gray, foggy, Scandinavian summer night. After all, the ad for Bergen had initiated this trip in the first place, so I wanted to look around before leaving early the next morning for parts north.
Despite the late hour, the fish market on the water was still bustling with activity. I warmed up with a hot fish cake from a street vendor before wandering over to the Bryggen side of the waterfront with its colorful old buildings and UNESCO World Heritage bragging rights. It was peaceful and almost tourist-free after 10pm, with the colors and lights reflected in the wet, wooden walkways and alleys. A black cat came to say hello, then disappeared into the rafters.
Trolls were a common motif in tourist shops, and this robo-troll fishing in a window was probably the most terrifying thing I saw in Norway, its grinning head and deep, dead eyes turning from side to side while the robo-hand slashed the air with the fishing pole. Yikes.
Once I felt done with being wet and being awake, I went back and crashed in the hostel for a few hours, then snuck out early the next morning for Norwegian Adventure #3.
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