After a couple of months of traveling, working and procrastinating, I finally sat down to write again. Today I thought to add to my “Transylvania 101” series by talking about one of my favorite camping destinations in Romania. Namely “Scaunul Domnului” (God’s chair), a mountain peak and plateau in the Călimani Mountains, east-Transylvania.
How it all began
Around 4.54 billion years ago, when the Earth was a molten fireball baby… Oh sorry, I went back too far. About 80 million years ago, during the alpino-carpatho-himalayan orogeny volcanic activity gave birth to the east-Carpathian mountain chain… Wait, no. That’s still too far.
Ok, let’s start in 2010, towards the end of the summer exam session at University. While discussing with one of my friends and dorm mates about holiday plans, an idea for a camping trip came up. As we were both mountain lovers, I suggested a few spots in north-Transylvania that I knew of close to my home town. However he already had plans to go hiking with a couple of friends in the Călimani Mountains to the east. I had never explored that region of Transylvania and was keen on discovering new places.
My University city of Cluj Napoca where all great adventures began
We decided to go camping for a few days in Călimani, in a spot that he once went to called Scaunul Domnului. Our trip basically hinged on my friend’s ability to recall the way to this place, half day’s walk across the bear-ridden Transylvanian wilderness. Suffice to say, there were a couple of instances of coin-toss level decision making where the path would diverge, but in the end he got us through to the top.
The Călimani camping experience, which I will detail more below, was so much fun that we ended up returning the following years.
The Călimani trip
My journey the Călimani always started in city of Cluj Napoca, which was also my University city. From here I would take a train to my friend Cipri’s hometown of Târgu Mureș, in central Transylvania. the rest of our adventurer friends would all meet up there and spend one night at his place. The next day we would take an early morning train to the village of Deda-Bistra. From Deda-Bistra we would begin our ~10 km hike in the Călimani Mountains.
The old train station in Cluj Napoca
Now 10 km doesn’t sound too bad, but with fully packed 60-80 liter backpacks on our backs, it was certainly no cake walk. Especially when apart from the canned foods, tents, sleeping bags, we would also pack an excessive amount of alcohol with us. The Transylvanian way…
The hike up to Scaunul Domnului
The first leg of the journey would see us cross the village of Deda-Bistra. A very gentle incline upwards, this bit always felt like the tutorial section of the hike. Yet, by the time we’d reach the edge of town, we’d already be sweating.
At the edge of the village of Deda-Bistra
The next portion was the “make it, or break it” section, which involved a grueling steep climb in the morning sun, with zero shade. During this part, everyone was expected to complain, swear and curse while questioning why on Earth they are doing this instead of relaxing in a soft, comfy bed at home. However, after passing the test of endurance, the mountain would reward us with a gorgeous view of the valley bellow. Then Cipri would always add that there’s only two more big steep climbs to do. Well, that and about three quarters of the way to go…
Overlooking the valley of Deda-Bistra after completing the first steep climb of our hike
After the first big climb, the forest completely envelops the path. From there on up, we’d spend most of our time hiking up and down through the forest. Occasionally crossing a few meadows where we’d remember to be on the lookout for signs of bears. At that time the Călimani Mountains were known to have one of the highest bear populations in Romania. During this long section, a couple of diverging paths could potentially stray one away from the right way… Which was to the left… I think.
A little glimpse of the long hike through the Călimani forests
The plateau and peak
About half a day later and a couple of kilos less, we would reach the final stretch of the hike. A moderately steep climb in a rocky coniferous forest. This bit was always associated with excitement and euphoria of having nearly completed the long and arduous hike to the top.
Nearing the top of Scaunul Domnului and the end of our hike
Finally, the forest would open up and reveal a glorious mountain plateau. The area offers plenty of good flat ground for pitching tents. There’s at least a couple of great campfire spots as well. Most importantly, there is a safe to drink fresh water spring situated in the center of the plateau.
On the northwest and east side, slated rocky cliffs offer some of the best views of the Carpathian Mountains I’ve ever seen. Northeast of the plateau, the path continues for over 20 km towards “Pietrosul Călimanilor”, the highest peak (2100 m) in the Călimani Mountains.
Southward view of the Călimani Mountains from Scaunul Domnului peak
Since the first time I saw the sign to Pietrosul, I always tried to convince my companions to do a full expedition all the way to the top. For some reason, I’d always find it hard to just sit in one place for more then a day. I kept wanting to go further, walk more, see more! Sadly, that trip would never materialize. However, I did somewhat learn to appreciate the less active camping style of simply relaxing and enjoying nature in one remote spot.
Slated rocky cliffs atop Scaunul Domnului peak
The first year: Perfect conditions
When we first went camping in July 2010, we were very fortunate with the weather. the mornings and evenings were nice and cool, while the days were warm and sunny. The weeks prior to our departure also saw plenty of rain, so everything looked super fresh.
Sunshine after light rain in the morning is just perfect
We pitched our tents next to a fireplace atop an elevated section just north of the plateau. We were right at the edge of to the forest, which was great because it provided us with plenty of dry dead wood that we could use for our nightly campfires. A few meters from our tents we had breathtaking views of the Călimani Mountains stretching north-south. A short walk down the plateau, we had easy access to the fresh water spring.
Our neat little camping site in the Transylvanian wilderness
We were also lucky to have the entire place to ourselves. Not say that Scaunul Domnului is a popular tourist destination, but when the weather is so good there’s a high chance of other hikers stopping by.
Nights and days
The nights were filled with drinking, philosophical debates, nonsensical rambling and lots of laughs. The night sky was so clear and visible that each night we’d spend a couple of hours stargazing. On the other hand, when we’d venture into the forest for more lumber, we’d be enveloped by a darkness that no city dweller could imagine. Roaming around the pitch black forest with our headlights, we discovered a tree with its bark pealed like a banana. The deeply engraved claw markings were unsettling to say the least.
Our long nights by the campfire
Fueled by the other wordy of our surroundings our imagination went wild and the spooky campfire stories followed. Weather it be extraterrestrials, demons, or bears, or extraterrestrial demon bears with corn eyes, the ridiculous tales were endless. To add to all that, the first night after we retreated to our tents, I’m fairly sure we were visited by a beast. As I lay ready to fall asleep, I clearly heard ruffling in the grass near our tent. This was distinctly different than the sound of the blowing wind. The sound got closer and closer until it seemed to be next to the tent. Everyone else was asleep at that point, so I just rolled towards the center and hoped it would go away. The next morning there was a large patch of flattened grass beside my tent. Could it have been the beast that pealed the tree nearby? Who knows…
The peeled tree we discovered the first night, about 50 m from our tents
The days were mostly spent recovering from the long nights of drinking. Weather this involved meditation, walks in the forest, or throwing up depended on the individual. Another fun daytime activity was foraging for blueberries. It’s always impressive how time can fly when you’re munching on fresh berries – bear life 101.
First year hiking crew in Călimani (2010)
It’s easy to see how we fell in love with the place and quickly decided to return the next year.
The second year: A bit moist
So it was that in July 2011, we were back at Deda-Bistra, preparing once more for our hike in the Călimani Mountains. This time around however, the weather was not favorable. It had been raining for a couple of weeks and it didn’t seem to have any intention of stopping.
The train station in Deda-Bistra during the wet season in 2011That first steep climb that ended up being way harder then the year before
The climb felt much harder. The ground was wet and muddy and our clothes got soaked within the first hour. Personally, I may also have been fairly out of shape at that time, so everything felt extra heavy. We had to make a lot more frequent stops on the way. About half way into the hike, we even decided to pitch a tent to rest and nap for about an hour. It truly felt like a completely different game then the prior year.
Second year Călimani crew, getting ready to head out again after a little napOur wet forest hike
With plenty of extra hours spent on the hike, we finally made it to the plateau in the evening. The clouds were very thick and low, so we didn’t have many hours left of light. We had to scramble to pitch the tents and start a fire as soon as possible. Due to our earlier rest break, the tents, sleeping bags and most of our clean clothes got wet too. Everything was wet and the rain showed no intention of stopping anytime soon. It was a disaster.
Our mood after arriving at our destination all soaked
The sinking submarine
The hasty manner in which we pitched our tents the first night came back to haunt us the next day. I’m not sure if one of them had sprung a leak, but somehow this one tent got flooded. So much so that our friends sleeping in the tent woke up with their sleeping bags and feet in a pool of water. Thus, we christened it the sinking submarine.
Cliffside in the clouds atop Scaunul Domnului, Călimani 2011
The sub had to be evacuated and abandoned for the rest of our stay. This meant that all four of us had to cozy up in a two-person tent. Talk about sardines in a can… At least we used the sinking submarine to store our wet backpacks. Speaking of wet things, the clothes left outside to dry never dried because surprise surprise, it kept raining through the night!
Futile attempts to dry our clothes
We solely had to rely on the campfire to attempt to dry anything. This had it’s own downsides, like when I ended up burning my boots while trying to dry them.
Still trying to dry those boots too…
On the flip side, Cipri was very knowledgeable about wilderness survival, so thanks to him and his skills, we could constantly make and maintain a fire even with all the wet wood and bush. A handy thing I learned from him is how well tinder fungus burns even when wet.
With all the rain, there were plentiful mushrooms at least
A mystical allure
Despite the hardships, our second year in Călimani was fantastic! Once we got used to our new conditions, we adjusted our habits and adapted well to the new wet environment. The night parties raged on as the year before, with music louder than ever. The spooky atmosphere of the constantly foggy forest added a new layer to the mystical allure of the place.
Most importantly, we always made time to goof around
Mushrooms and berries were flourishing thanks to the abundant rain of the past weeks. Eventually, a day, or two in, even the rain stopped. So we finally got a chance to dry some of our clothes. To top it all off, during one of the evenings the clouds even gave way to a few rays of sunlight. This provided us with some incredible photo opportunities and breathtaking sunset views.
A sneaky sunset behind the clouds
Honestly, as perfect and fun as our first year was, the second year remains my favorite Călimani camping adventure. Perhaps it thanks to the challenging nature of that trip.
The rare rays of sunlight we got on this trip were extra special
That being said, we wanted to make sure that the following year we would avoid all the rainy days and strive for a warm and dry camping trip. Oh boy, did we ever get it…
Leaving behind the cloudy Călimani Mountains in 2011
The third year: Where’s the water?
This time around, I was in better shape and so was the weather. No more clouds, no more rain, the sky was clear and it was damn warm. We were in fact hiking during a heat wave. Whenever we’d start complaining about the heat, we’d just think back to the rainy conditions in 2011. Not this time. this time it hadn’t rained at all for weeks before we set out on our trip. The issue with this wasn’t evident at first, but would soon be made clear once we reached the top.
Out of the three years doing this trip, I’m fairly sure we completed the hike in record time in 2012. After exhausting most of our water supply going up, we were keen for a refill from the spring. However, in there’s where the problem lay. Due to the lack of rain and persistent heat, the freshwater spring had almost completely dried up. All that was left was a muddy little puddle…
We saw this stork back in Deda-Bistra and its expression perfectly mirrored our reaction to the “no drinkable water” situation
Some attempts were made to filter the muddy mess through a cloth and then boil it. But despite our best efforts, this was unsustainable for days and nights. With no other known water spring in the area, we realized we had no choice but to turn back the next day. To top it all off we couldn’t even drink all the alcohol we’d brought up, because without water, the next day we’d be screwed.
Another group of excessively rowdy campers arrived that evening and completely hampered any semblance of our enjoyment during the one night.
Even if it was just the one night, we still had our mandatory campfire in the evening
The final grueling return trip
The next morning, we all woke tired and thirsty. There was no time to waste. We packed up everything and started our descent. What would normally be a fairly easy half-day hike down from the mountains, turned into an very physically and mentally challenging trek. We were 4, or 5 people and had half a liter of water left for the entire trip back to town. Let’s not forget that we were already dehydrated from the day before. Even though the walk was mostly downhill, or straight, the temperature highs of around 30°C still made us sweat whatever little water we had left in us. It was truly miserable.
These days we see and hear people constantly reminding us about the importance of hydration. Well, after what we went through that day, I think none of us would ever forget to drink enough water for the rest of our lives. When we finally managed to get back into town, tongues out and half hallucinating, we rushed to the first store we saw and emptied their shelves and fridge of water bottles.
Our final sunset in Călimani
Final thoughts
Our camping trips to the Călimani Mountains were generally an absolute blast! The key of our good time lay as always in great companionship and camaraderie. The great memories we made together those days are unreplaceable and despite the hardships and even dangers that nature threw at us, we came back each time for more.
Bear footprints we found during our hike in 2011
It’s just a shame that our last trip ended up being so dissapppinting. On top of that, the failed trip served only to accentuate an already bad period of my life fraught with personal issues and depression. It would take another year for things to start to turn around for me. Specifically, it would take an unforgettable little trip with one of my best friends to Norway.
My 2009 EUGEN experience in the Netherlands can be summarized in 3 main points: hornet invasion, surprisingly interesting and fun day trips, and more alcohol than should be allowed. Now allow me to elaborate below.
EUGEN 2009 camping ground in the Netherlands
Hornets, field trips and alcohol
Our camp site was on a farm in the middle of nowhere. The closest town where we could go shopping was a couple of hours hike away. The weather was very warm throughout the week and that part of the country was experiencing a hornet invasion. It wasn’t unbearable, but it was certainly unpleasant, especially during the mornings. We constantly had to fight off hornets during breakfast and had to be vigilant if wearing slippers. There were a few incidents of people getting stung and one more serious case when someone accidentally swallowed a hornet. They were rushed to the hospital and were fine in the end.
To my second point, as you may know the Netherlands is a fairly flat country. After the impressive field trips and sights I had seen in Switzerland the year before, I honestly didn’t have high expectations for the Netherlands. However, I was pleasantly surprised by the field trips and sights I saw. I will go into details in the chapters below.
Finally, I went a bit wild on the alcohol consumption during this particular EUGEN meetup. In addition to the daily beer consumption, we had an infamous night of “wine tasting”. Our friends from Slovenia had each brought quite a few numbers of bottles of wine. Apparently Slovenia has many good wines and so they decided they would host a huge wine tasting party. Suffice to say, the tasting quickly devolved into chugging bottles. That night was an absolute blast, ending in the biggest bonfire the north had seen – A little Game of Thrones reference there for any fans. However, the second day’s hangover was no joke…
The Caves of Maastricht
The first field trip I attended during EUGEN 2008 took us to the province of Limburg, the most southeasterly region of the Netherlands. Our first stop was at Gemeentegrot, or Cauberg Cavern.
Entrance to Geementegrot
Geementegrot is part of the network of limestone caves known as the Maastricht caves, or the Caves of Saint Petersberg hill. These are basically a system of interconnected old underground limestone quarries. The trip involved a a guided train ride through the dark underground complex.
Art decorated walls inside the caverns
Dating back to the 13th century, the Maastricht caves were originally dug to mine chalk. Over the years, as mining this rock had become less profitable, the caves took up different roles.
Sculpture in marl in Cauberg Cavern
The walls were decorated with art over hundreds of years, which lead to them becoming tourist attraction. During times of crisis, like World War II, the caves were used as shelter for civilians and military personnel. After the war, part of the complex was turned into a nuclear shelter, which was part of our guided tour.
I had seen a few cave systems before, but nothing as massive and impressive as this multi-century man-made complex. It was truly an impressive experience. One that I would recommend to anyone visiting the Netherlands.
Three Country Border
Following our visit to the Maastricht caves, we took the bus to the tripoint in Vaals. The tripoint, or the Three Country Border, marks the border point between Belgium, Germany and the Netherlands. One of the main attractions there was the Labyrint Drielandenpunt, Europe’s largest outdoor shrub maze.
Labyrint Drielandenpunt at the tripoint in Vaals
We ventured into the maze and spent many eons trying to navigate its treacherous, shrubby, ever winding pathways. I’m joking. We probably spent about an hour in there. But it was definitely a fun experience! At the center of the maze we climbed up a platform from which we could see in the direction of any of the three countries. Me and my navigation group made it out safe and sound, just in time. However, some of our other companions had to cheat and climb over the shrubs to get out before the bus left them behind.
Fountain in the Labyrinth
Aside from the Drielanden Labyrinth, the tripoint is also the highest region in the Netherlands by altitude. Our next and final stop for the day involved visiting the continental peak of the country, the Vaalsberg. This monumental hill sits at a whopping 322.4 m altitude! How anyone could climb such a tremendous hump is astounding!
Searching for the way out from one of the elevated lookout points
Nevertheless, we did the unthinkable and hiked Vaalsberg. However, in some way that I can’t fully recall, we ended up in yet another man-made cave. The Dutch sure seem to like their caves.
Another hole in the ground to explore in Vaalsberg
A trip to Belgium
The second field trip I went to involved a day trip to Belgium and was only offer on one specific day. The list got filled quick and I wasn’t about to miss out on a chance to visit Belgium. In an amusing twist of events, the day before the trip we had our country of origin presentation evening in camp. For these presentations people would usually talk a bit about their home countries geology, or culture, or something down that line. It was during this evening when our Slovenian friends presented the wonders of their country to us all in the form of insane amounts of wine.
The party tent at EUGEN 2009
I won’t go into the details of that night, but I will say that it was an absolute blast! I was among the last standing, or should I say wobbling people to enjoy the final flickers of our big bonfire. However, this meant that I barely had a few hours of sleep before my alarm violently woke me up early next morning. I felt absolutely miserable. However, I wasn’t about to give up on the chance to visit Belgium! I could barely drink half a cup of coffee before upsetting my stomach. I zombied my way onto the crowded bus and fell asleep instantly.
My first 10 minutes in Belgium
About two hours later I woke up suddenly to the loud voice over the bus speaker letting us know that we had 10 more minutes to our destination. My stiff neck was frozen in an awkward sideways position for a couple of minutes. As I slowly got my bearings, I realized we were in a big city, going up a windy road to some sort of fortress.
I could barely focus on the outside world. My head was throbbing and my stomach was turning in all the wrong ways. I kept telling myself that I just needed to hang in there 10 minutes and then I would rush to the nearest restroom. However, that wasn’t good enough. As a cold sweat started sweeping across me and my vision and hearing were fading, I realized if I didn’t “unload” I would just pass out. Reluctantly, I grabbed the nearest empty trash bag and gave one last miserable and desperate glance to my poor unknown German companion sitting next to me. Then… well… I think I don’t need to spill it out for you. I already spilled it out for him… Oof!
10 minutes later, in Belgium…
A mystery city
After I got the chance to wash up and walk around a bit, I started feeling better. Even with the nagging headache and hangover after effects, I was very happy to have not missed out on the trip. The fortress we had driven up was amazing and the view of the city below was absolutely fantastic. I had no idea where I was, but I wanted to see more.
Grumpy me and my splitting headache with the beautiful Belgian city in the background
I’m pretty sure I was told the name of the city a few times, but in my state it just didn’t stick. So much so, that it took me writing this blog, to finally ask my old pal Daniel where the heck we went to in Belgium. Turns out it was none other then the capital city of Wallonia (the French region of Belgium), Namur.
View of the rooftops of Namur from the Citadel
We spent a good while exploring the city fortress, also known as the Citadel. Apart from the breathtaking views of the city, there were various old canons, artillery pieces, barracks and other such things to discover. There was also a geological part of the citadel tour, focusing on the foundation on which the fortress had been built.
Exploring the Citadel
After touring the citadel, we got back on the bus and drove to a nearby quarry on the outskirts of Namur. It was at this time when in proper Romanian fashion, me and my compatriots decided to take our lunch and nap under the shade, while everyone else went off to tour the quarry. No regrets. That nap fixed me 100%. Well, I guess my only regret was that we never got to explore the city of Namur more. It sure looked like a fantastic place to spend a few days at least.
The Citadel of Namur and its tilted rocky foundation
Europe’s biggest seaport
On my third field trip, we headed to the Delta Works in the Netherlands. On the way there, we passed by Rotterdam, Europe’s biggest seaport. Even though I didn’t get to see the city itself, during our drive, I got a glimpse of the vast industrial and shipping areas surrounding it. It was quite a sight to behold. Me and my friends were eagerly awaiting to have a view of the North Sea. Instead, we were treated to seemingly endless lagoons, canals, and all other sorts of water bodies used for transportation.
The busy shipping lanes near Rotterdam
On the one hand the sights seemed boring and unappealing. On the other, seeing first hand the sheer magnitude of the ongoing daily operations supplying the continent with all sorts of goods from across the world was quite impressive.
Delta Works
The Delta Works is a complex of 6 dams, 3 locks and 4 storm surges built to protect The Netherlands from flooding from the North Sea. Since a big part of the country is below sea level, flooding is a constant threat to the people living there. Completed in 1997, the Delta Works is one of the most impressive feats of hydraulic engineering to date. Apart from protecting the Netherlands from flooding, the complex also provides benefits for water quality, agriculture, shipping access and recreation.
Walking underneath one of the large locks of the Delta Works
We started off our visit at their office building with a short presentation of the complex. We also had some of the most delicious sandwiches imaginable for lunch. Oh, those salmon sandwiches were divine… I would go back there just for that alone!
Storm surge barriers at the Delta Works
After our informative presentation and… those scrumptious sandwiches, we got a first hand look at part of the Delta Works. It was truly a massive structure, or I should say, chain of structures.
Shores of the North Sea
At this point me and my friend Daniel finally got to touch the waters of the North Sea for the first time in our lives. It would end up being but a prelude to a future adventure further north.
Utrecht
The final field trip during my visit to the Netherlands took me to the city of Utrecht. This was part of the cultural trip, which is always held on the last day of each EUGEN. We walked the cobblestone streets of the city center, taking in the sights for a couple of hours.
The Dom of Utrecht
Canals, coffeshops and colorful houses lined the narrow city streets left and right. The centerpiece of the city is the gothic Cathedral and Dom of Utrecht. Built in the 14th century, the Dom is the oldest and highest church tower in the country.
Canals and a sea of bicycles
After our walk, we went to a Belgian bar with that had a crazy high amount of beers on tap. One more flavorful and fantastic then the other. It was during this visit I discovered how amazingly tasty Belgian beers were. To this day, they remain my favorite style of foamy alcoholic beverage.
Nothing better then having a few quality beers with friends in a Belgian bar after an epic week in the Netherlands
My friends and I spent the rest of our remaining time in Utrecht enjoying our drinks and reminiscing about our fantastic week in the Netherlands. EUGEN 2009 had come to and end and it was now time to part ways. They would go back to camp for one last night, while I had to catch a train back to Germany.
One year after my first experience with EUGEN in Switzerland, I was keen on going to their next event. The 2009 EUGEN was being held in the Netherlands. From the original Romanian group, only a few of us returned. Additionally, a few new colleagues of ours decided to tag along. As opposed to the prior year’s organized group travel, this time we decided to each go our own way and meet up in the Netherlands.
At around the same time of my trip, my mom and I were invited over to our relatives in west Germany. Thus, we decided to fly to Germany together where I would spend a day, before hopping on a train to the Netherlands.
Flying further west
First time in Germany
My mom’s cousin and his family lived in the city of Wuppertal, northeast of Cologne. This was the first time I visited Germany. As brief as it was for me, it left a good impression.
My mom and I, and a petrified “Mina” German lady.
Wuppertal is a highly industrial city, with a divers array of home industries such as metallurgy, textiles, automobiles, chemicals, electronics and many others. Despite this, the city seemed fairly clean and green. Quite different then the industrial cities I was used to from back in eastern Europe.
Even the hardest of lives are a bit easier with a friend by your side
One of the most unique features of Wuppertal is the Wuppertal Schwebebahn suspension monorail. Built just before the dawn of the 20th century, the monorail is the oldest electric elevated railway with hanging cars in the world.
The Wuppertaler Schwebebahn suspension railway
After a day of walking around the city and getting to know my extended family, I was ready to my Netherlands adventure.
Dangling by a rail on the Schwebebahn
Eindhoven
I took a train to Eindhoven in the Netherlands, where I met up with one of my friends. We had an entire day to pass before we could catch a ride to our campsite. Unfortunately, the weather was not ideal for walking around town. It rained the entire day. Still, we got a good look at the colorful town.
Walking around rainy Eindhoven, 2009
The Dutch sure love their red bricks. I’ve never seen so many red brick buildings in one place anywhere else. Not that I’m complaining.
If memory serves, our stay in Eindhoven was shortened when a fellow EUGENeer we got in contact with offered to give us a ride to camp. So after a short wet day in Eindhoven, we made our way to camp. Thus began the wild ride that would be EUGEN 2009.
In my previous post I mentioned how I went to EUGEN Switzerland in 2008. I also said I would showcase the field trips I went to during the week there. Now again, because of how long ago this was, I sadly can’t recall the names of any of the places. Perhaps one of my EUGEN friends, Gaudenz, who was one of the organizers for EUGEN 2008, can help out in the comments.
As with each EUGEN event, there were a number of field trips to choose from during our week long stay. Some of them are organized twice, so that people have a chance to do all, or almost all of them. All the field trips are worthwhile, but we each have our own preferences for what we’d like to do and see. For me, it was hiking. I wanted to go out there and walk up some Swiss mountains and see some geology on the way! There were two perfect options for this. One of them involved visiting a big dam and then hiking for most of the day around that region. The second one involved a hike up a fairly tall mountain peak.
Hiking in the Swiss Alps – 2008
I believe the name of the place with the dam started with an L, so let’s just call that the L-dam. Then the mountain… all I remember is that there were cows and horses on the way, so I’ll go with cow-mountain.
The L-dam
The morning of our trip was fairly chilly and cloudy. We were all so tired in the morning. The late night partying combined with the early wake-up was a drag. Even now I can hear the organizers walking through camp in the morning, beating on metal pans and pots to wake everyone up. The horror…
My tired friends in the mornings, Switzerland 2008
I recall we took a fairly long bus trip to reach our destination. I also specifically remember the road was very winding with many sharp turns. This, because every time I tried to fall asleep the bus would turn and I’d end up banging my head against the window… concussion number 45.
Then finally, about two hours later, we arrived at the L-dam. The place must have been beautiful. Too bad we couldn’t see much due to the clouds. Ok, I’m exaggerating, but to be fair, it was pretty damn cloudy. At least for the first part of the day.
My friend Daniel in the clouds
We sat out on a trail following the lake. On the way, we had a few stops at several rock outcrops. I recall one of them had a bunch of nice garnets and, everyone took a piece with them. For the non-geologist readers, garnets are basically cool looking minerals that are sometimes used as gems. They kind of look like little mineral balls with nicely shaped geometric faces. Some of these garnets can even grow to a few centimeters wide. Take two of these big garnet balls and a long staurolite in the middle and you have a recipe for an obscene Bachelors dissertation project “wink, wink”.
The L-dam, somewhere in Switzerland
The weather started improving during the day and finally we got to see our beautiful surroundings. Gorgeous mountains on each side of the trail and the lake behind us. It was a wonderful field trip that I would gladly do again.
Hiking around the L-dam lake
Cow-mountain
On our second field trip in Switzerland we had the perfect hiking weather. Beautiful clear skies on a warm summer’s day, with just the right amount of a cool mountain breeze to keep us fresh.
The perfect weather and scenery for a lovely mountain hike
We started our hike from an already relatively high point and had to reach a peak of around 2500m. On the way we passed a bunch of horses and cows. For whatever reason this images stayed with me, hence why I decided to name it cow-mountain. Maybe it’s due to all the old “Milka” chocolate commercials with the cows and the Swiss Alps. Does anyone remember those?
Our EUGENeers gathering for some field geology
I recall our geologist professor/guide for the day had quite the hefty pace. So much so that some people had a hard time keeping up with him. I can’t remember what else we did during this field trip, except for walk, walk, walk, higher and higher.
Slippery terrain and impressive rock outcrops weathered by the elements
As you may imagine, the hike was absolutely worth it. The views we had on the way and especially from the top of the mountain were incredible. We even got to see some glimpses of snow here and there. Remnants of old glaciers, now just a thing of the past.
Me and Daniel: the brotherhood
Heading home
After the wonderful week in Switzerland we embarked on our multi-train journey back to Romania. All was going well, until we had to board the final train in Vienna. The second class cars were so packed that some of us had to upgrade to first class at extra cost to get on the train. When I mean packed, I don’t just mean all the seats were occupied, but that so many people were squatting on the train car hallways everywhere that there was simply no room.
It was an over night train ride too, so since I was very tired after the long week and the previous train rides, I agreed to be one of the guys to pay the 50 euros extra for the upgrade to an actual bed. That didn’t stop me and my volunteer friends from moping all night about the expensive ticket. However, we found a satisfactory solution. This first class premium service included a complementary 0.5 liter bottle of water. We simply told ourselves that it was that damned bottle of water that cost us the extra 50 euros.
Us and our 50 euro water bottles
In my next post I will jump ahead one year to EUGEN 2009, which was held in The Netherlands. So stay tuned for that!
Alright, so this week’s post is going to be a bit different – and yes I’m really trying to turn this into a weekly thing.
I will go further back in time to my first travel adventure out of Romania. Well, at least the first non-family related one. This all happened in 2008, during my second year at University. I know, feels like a lifetime ago… So one of my friends and classmates shows up one day talking about a summer camp he found out about. An opportunity for geologist students to go camping in Switzerland, relatively cheaply.
The organization doing this was called EUGEN. Which is a fairly common Romanian name and also happened to be the name of my uncle’s neighbor. Oh but it’s not that Eugen, it’s actually the European Geoscientists Students Network. I guess they left the S out of the acronym because EUGESN doesn’t roll off the tongue as nicely as EUGEN.
What is EUGEN about?
Back then I didn’t know anything about them, but as I would find out, they are a German-based organization that had been doing yearly summer camps for geologists and geology enthusiasts for a few years. Each year participants would hold a voting session where they would decide what country would host the next year’s EUGEN event. The whole thing would be fairly cheap and even cheaper for students living in the poorer eastern European countries. The event would last a week during which there would be various field trips one could choose from, social events, lectures and a cultural trip. Oh and a lot, and I mean A LOT of alcohol. All in all it’s an absolute blast of a week. A chance to visit another country, meet new people, make a bunch of friends and have a great time. The best part is that EUGEN continues to date! So what are you waiting for geologically inclined reader? Go! Fly off to Slovenia for a great time this summer!
EUGEN Austria in 2018 – Udra Udra!
Alright, so I went off on a bit of a tangent there, but I’m always happy to do some PR for these guys. Shout out to all my EUGEN readers out there!
Back to 2008 and when I first heard about them. This was back when I was piss-poor, so any cost was a high cost for me. Regardless, the opportunity was incredible and my parents were happy to sponsor my trip.
Off we go
It was some time during August, as it usually is, when the event was hosted. We had a fairly large group of Romanians attending that year. Most of which were university classmates of mine. I remember the logistics of getting to the location were quite tricky. Mostly because none of us had cars to drive. There were no easy flights either, so the only option we had really were trains. I think we had to change 4, or 5 different trains in total. I believe it was over a day’s worth of train travel.
The obelisk of Horea, Cloșca and Crișan in Alba Iulia, Romania 2008
The first train was from Alba Iulia, Romania to Vienna, Austria. The second one would cross Austria and take us to around Innsbruck, where I think we had to change to another train that would cross over the Swiss border. Then I know for sure there was at least one, if not two more train changes within Switzerland. This was mostly because the event location was near a tiny little village that nobody outside Switzerland has heard of called Domat/Ems. The village is close to a bigger town that nobody outside Switzerland has heard of called Chur. Chur is actually pronounced Coor, or Cur, like ass in Romanian. Sorry, I just had say that – Gaudenz, I hope you’re reading buddy!
A quick stop in Vienna, Austria – Mandatory taking of photos as proof that we went there in 2008
The experience
Now, I won’t go into day by day details of my excursion to Switzerland. Primarily because it’s been such a long time that I can only recall bits and pieces of it. However, I will reserve my next post to go over some of the wonderful places we saw during our field trips.
As for here, I would just like to state that it was a fantastic experience. Not just for myself, but for all of us from Romania that went to EUGEN 2008. The amazing field trips, the great people we met, the evening parties, the incredible food! Oh God, the Italian food night when everyone had like 3 portions and then the toilets couldn’t handle it anymore… The Italians serenading the chefs with live music… What a night! I remain extremely grateful for the organizing team and EUGEN for the opportunity.
Switzerland was/is such a radically different country then Romania that it’s like night and day. A real eye opener to how nice and civilized a country can be. Well, kind of like Norway for those who have read my Norway series. For those who haven’t, well what are you waiting for? It’s right here!
Walking around Chur, Switzerland 2008
Starting to feel like this post is one big advertisement, eh? Well, you bet your Chur it is!
Hope you’ll stick around for my next post about our Swiss EUGEN adventure! Until then, I bid you farewell.
After leaving the car near Bâlea Lake, we began our hike up the mountain slope. The clouds were low and thick, so visibility was quite poor. For a while, we followed one of the marked paths. Since the trail would have taken us right up the steep crests, we decided to find our own, smoother climb. To me this basically meant – go up in a straight line until you can’t go any further. And so we did.
Leaving Bâlea Lake and our sanity behind.
As we got higher and higher, small patches of remnant snow began decorated our surroundings. I was quite surprised to see leftover snow during this time of the year. We climbed further up the wet grassy and rocky slope with a gradually increasing inclination. We were up in the clouds by the time we reached a steep wall of rock, rising well into the gray mist above. It wasn’t a dead end though. There was also another trekking path stretching parallel with the cliff.
As we looked up, an odd dark gray-bluish tint loomed over us in the clouds. I figured it was an approaching storm cloud, so we decided not to linger on the mountain for too long. The safest bet would have been to turn around and go back down. However, for lack of better judgment, I let Daniel decide our fate. Thus, we ventured on the newly discovered path a bit further.
Let’s just follow the blue line. What could possibly go wrong?
Further into the unknown
Since Daniel was more familiar with this region, or at least that’s what I thought, I let my good buddy take the lead. The general idea was that the path should lead back down to Bâlea cabin at some point. By this point, visibility was extremely poor. We couldn’t see much past one to two meters around us. However the trail seemed to descend, which was promising.
Stumbling in the clouds in the Făgărăș Mountains of Transylvania
Ten minutes in, we came across a fairly large “patch” of snowy ice. This thing stretched up and down the mountain slope, covering our path for about five meters. The inclination, combined with the icy, hardened snow made these few steps quite slippery. My summer-time footwear wasn’t doing me any favors either. I carefully managed to cross the obstacle, but it had made me quite uneasy. Nonetheless, since we were clearly descending, we carried on.
First of the white “terrors”
It didn’t take us long to run into a second snowy portion of the slope. This time twice the size of the first. I was getting really nervous about attempting the crossing. My wet shoe soles were slippery even on grass by this point. When I tested the frozen snow with my feet, there was simply no grip. It may have been just me, but the slope also seemed to be getting steeper and steeper. If we were to slip we would have fast been rolling down the rocky mountainside to whatever was at the bottom. The smart thing would have been to turn back. However, we had descended half-way and the prospect of climbing back up wasn’t very appealing.
A slippery slope
After some convincing from Daniel, I started cautiously crossing the snow, with one hand on the ground and feet shaking. It felt like forever, but I managed to cross safely. After a sigh of relief, I looked back at the white “terror” we had to overcome. We then carried on downwards, only to come across the third and biggest ice field of them all. This ice cover looked to stretch on forever into the gray haze. “Nope, nope, nope” – I said – “ This is not passable”. Indeed it was not, but the major issue now was that we were caught in between two large ice fields. It seemed like the only way out of there was straight down.
Once more, we slowly descended sideways on the steep slope, trying to hang on to any stable rocks we could. Daniel was faster, as he was actually wearing mountain boots, so the wet gravel and grass wasn’t affecting him as much. My gaze and focus was fully on each step I took, making sure not to slip.
Ice fields surrounding us on our descent
An unexpected sight
Daniel called out and I looked up to see a rocky cliff in front of us. The two ice-covers on each side closing in around us as we went down. With fingers crossed, I shouted back at him to take a look over the cliff and see if there was any clear way to go down around the rocks. He tried to make something out amidst the thick gray blanket of clouds. As I was cautiously approaching his position, he suddenly cursed out loud, got up and turned around with a face as pale as the snow. There had been a moment when the clouds dispersed to expose nothing but waves somewhere at the bottom of the cliff. We were right above Bâlea Lake. The problem was the two accursed ice covers met up around the rocky cliffs, leading straight into the lake. Only then did we realize that those icy snow patches were in fact remnants of the glacier that formed the lake itself.
Bâlea Lake, so close, yet so unreachable
Daniel’s expression made it pretty clear that there was no way of getting down on this side of the mountain, without tumbling into the glacial lake and probably breaking some bones along the way. I had to see for myself, so I tried to take a few tentative steps around the rocky cliff to see if there was enough ice-free space to sneak through. Unfortunately, there was hardly any, and by this point, the glacier also had just enough thickness to get one’s foot stuck in between it and the rocky wall. Climbing down the ice was also out of the question, since the slope took a major dip just before hitting the water. As much as I hated to admit it, the only option we had left was to go back up. Back all the way we came and descend exactly on the same slope we had climbed up initially. Right then and there, I had a flashback to earlier when I had suggested we turn back down instead of following a path blindly. But hey, where’s the fun in that?
The way back
With no other option, we reluctantly climbed up again, passing the two tails of the glacier once more without incident. Luckily we had memorized the location of the rocky wall and initial path marking. So without much trouble we ended up in the exact spot we had climbed up about two hour earlier. We made a stop one last time to look up at the stony cliff. In the clouds above we noticed yet again the same ominous dark gray shadow looming over. The one we had thought to be approaching storm clouds earlier. At this point it seemed very strange to have a storm cloud apparently hovering in the exact same spot for two hours.
The spiky crests of the Făgărăș Mountains revealed
As if the elements had read our thoughts and wished to reveal the truth, the clouds gave way to reveal a huge overhanging bit of the mountain to be our looming gray shadow. In hindsight, I highly regret not taking the time to photograph the impressive formation, but at that moment in time the only thought we had was getting down as fast as possible before that thing fell on top of us. So much so that we ended up sprinting half-way down to safety. We had had our fill of the Făgărăș Mountains for the day. Reaching the parking lot, we were extremely relieved we had survived our great Făgărăș adventure without any incident.
We were quite pumped full of adrenaline and in some weird way felt very pleased with ourselves. To finish off the day in the theme of spontaneity and adventure, Daniel decided to book us another room in a different Hotel, closer to the mountain. It was unfortunate that we had left all of our precious beers in the hotel in Cârțișoara. However, the view we had from our new crib was a worthwhile tradeoff.
The view from our hotel room on the Transfăgărășan
The night is young
As the darkness settled, we had a great meal and restocked our alcohol supply. I then had an idea of the perfect way to finish our exciting day: an adventurous spooky walk out into the woods with a couple of beers, a flashlight and Daniel’s airsoft gun. It had also started raining heavily, just to make it that much more interesting. We proceeded into the pitch black woods, in search of the unknown. Crossing a small stream, we carried on until we reached a nice little clearing. There we had our fun goofing around and shooting empty beer cans in the rain. It was the icing on the cake with plenty of good laughs and childish fun. After getting drenched for about an hour we headed back to the hotel for a well deserved rest.
The next morning, after a delicious breakfast, we had a lovely chat with the Hotel’s bartender. He told us this wonderful story of the problems they kept having the other night with a bear that was roaming near the hotel… Yes, the same night that two half-drunk idiots that had almost gotten themselves killed earlier in the day were goofing around in the pitch-black forests around the hotel. Perhaps the bear was just looking to join in on our fun. In any case, we packed-up and drove back to Mediaș, but not before receiving a phone call from the motel in Cârțișoara, reminding us that we had forgotten some items in the fridge – good old Transylvanian hospitality.
In hindsight
To wrap this story up, one should never venture up the Carpathian mountains, or any mountains as matter of fact, without proper equipment! Even if it’s just for a short day hike. These places can be extremely unpredictable and dangerous, as we learned on our own skin. Some semblance of knowledge of the area also goes a long way. And for goodness sake, don’t go out in the middle of the night, during a storm, into bear ridden woods with booze and toy guns. Unless, you’re a Transylvanian, of course. Then you do as you please 🙂
No bears, no snow, nor mountains, or lakes shall stand in the way of my adventure!
The following morning, we woke up to a perfect summer’s day. Clear skies, high temperatures it was the perfect day for what we had in mind. After a relatively quick breakfast, and here I use “relative” loosely, we hopped in the car. We drove towards the Southern Carpathian Mountains, passing through the plains of central Transylvania and enjoying the warmth of the season.
Who am I kidding? It was too damn hot! It’s always too damn hot here in the summer…
The Southern Carpathian Mountains seen from the road in Sibiu county. Image from bracobabic.wordpress.com
After what felt like hours of sweating and driving, but was probably a lot less, the landscape started to change. On the relative flat horizon a wall of towering mountains now popped up in the distance. The mountain chain ran parallel to the road, growing ever taller and more imposing. As the road turned towards the peaks, we arrived in the town of Cârțișoara.
Cârțișoara and the Transfăgărășan
Situated in the flatlands just under the great mountains, Cârțișoara is known for being the starting point of trekking paths leading up the Făgărăș Mountains, as well as the ruins of the 13th century Cârța Monastery. Daniel decided to book us a room at a motel. We left our valuables in the safety box, meaning we put our beers in the fridge, and hopped back into the car.
Cârțișoara marks the starting point of one of Romanian’s most famous roads: the Transfăgărășan. Basically, one of the roads crossing the South Carpathians and the only one to cut straight through the Făgărăș Mountains. The road is usually closed during winter due to bad weather and dangerous conditions. Up to date information on the status and road conditions on the Transfăgărășan are available here.
Cârțișoara and the sunny plains of Transylvania in the distance
The view was spectacular as we drove up the winding road. About half-way up we pulled over to enjoy the landscape. As I struggled to open the door, an unexpected ice cold wind blasted me in the face. Blowing from the direction of the high peaks, it was quite the radical change from the weather we experienced ten minutes before, in Cârțișoara.
The Transfăgărășan road, summer 2014
Clouds were persistently hovering over the mountain, while the plains from whence we came remained visibly sunny. I then realized that I was highly underdressed for the occasion. However, since it was going to be just a short one day trip, I was confident I could power through with my shorts, sleeveless shirt and a summer jacket. The lack of boots was no issue either, at least for now. After all, it was summer and we weren’t going to hike up anywhere crazy!
Come at me Făgărăș Mountains, me and my Norwegian Valdres bandana are ready for you!
Bâlea Lake…
Another ten minutes later, we stopped at Bâlea Lake – the name of which has been an eternal conundrum for me. Ok, so let me explain… When referring to a lake in Romanian, the general rule is the articulated word Lake “Lacul” comes before the given name of the lake. For example Lake/Lacul Vidraru, Lake/Lacul Sf. Ana, Lake/Lacul Iezer, etc. But then you have Bâlea Lake/Lac. Yeah, it’s not called Lacul Bâlea, but Bâlea Lac. Why you do this to me Bâlea? Why you got to be so rebel?
Bâlea Lake and the cabin bearing the same name, mark the highest point of the Transfăgărășan road. From this point on an almost one kilometer tunnel cuts through the mountain connecting its northern and southern slopes. We weren’t planning on crossing this time though. Instead, we left the car in the parking lot, took our backpacks, and started stumbling up the mountain in search of adventure.
The following hours would prove just how stupid it is to venture up the Făgărăș Mountains unprepared…
About a year after our exceptional journey to Norway, I ended up visiting my good friend Daniel in his hometown of Mediaș. Located in the central Transylvania, Mediaș is quite far away from my hometown of Baia Mare in the north-west. Since I wasn’t keen on driving the chaotic Romanian roads, I had to go by train. A very slow train without air conditioning that heats up like a tin can left in the scorching summer sun. Good old Eastern Europe…
The prehistoric trains still in use today in Romania
It was my first time visiting that part of the country. On day one, after the gruelingly long train ride, we set out to explore the rolling green hills and medieval remnants surrounding Mediaș. The weather was excellent. Sunny and warm, just perfect for sightseeing and outdoor buffoonery. It was a day of reconnaissance, forest exploration and medieval sword flinging. It was also a day of complete clumsiness, on my end, due to the long, tiresome, trip to Mediaș.
Treasure hunting
We visited the town of Moșna and its fortified medieval church. In the courtyard, we took our time, looking around for artifacts and treasure. This place is so full of history that apparently one can still find small overlooked artifacts in the soil.
In our endeavor, we found a rusty old nail in the dirt. The nail told the story of past battles where great armies crashed into the fortified walls like the raging waves of the seven seas colliding with unrelenting rocky shores. The forces unleashed were so great that they knocked the nails straight out of the opposite sides of the walls! On the other hand, it could have just been someone misplacing a nail in more modern times.
Moșna fortified church, 2014
In our search for the truth, we found another piece of the puzzle: a shattered piece of pottery. Using our professional deductive abilities, we concluded that this fragment obviously implied that even the pots flew off of the shelves when the battle raged on the other side of the walls. Before heading back to Mediaș, we stopped by the local woods to test out Daniels new acquisition: a glorious Viking sword. Being my first time flinging around a sword, I had a fun time with it. The surrounding bushes and ghosts never stood a chance!
No caption is sufficient to explain this photo, so just sit back and take in the visual spectacle
Where to next?
Arriving back in Mediaș, just before sundown, we hiked up a nearby hill and enjoyed a few beers in the wilds. It wasn’t long before we became the wilds… We had to find a purpose for our empty beer cans, so Daniel’s airsoft handgun gave them new purpose. I was quick to show my prowess in both ranged and close quarter shooting, missing every conceivable and inconceivable shot. In my defense, I was tired… The alcohol didn’t seem to help either.
As the evening set in, we packed up and went back to Daniel’s house for a well deserved meal and rest. The next day we planned to take a road trip to the Făgăraș Mountains, Romanian’s tallest mountains.
The next morning, before heading out, we met Julio’s boss and manager at the Borgund Stave Church museum, Tanna. I recall being eagerly inquisitive about a potential part-time position at the museum. By this point I had fallen in love with Norway so much that I would have done anything to stay. They were actually looking for more people for the next year’s tourist season. But they wanted someone fluent in French. Unfortunately my French language skills were abysmal. Ironic how today, ten years since this trip, I am in a place and position where I once more would greatly benefit from a high level of French. After our pleasant conversation with Tanna, we bid farewell to her and Julio and set off to climb the mountain.
The tiny village of Borgund with the Stave Church museum to the upper left
Once more, we were very fortunate with the weather. The entire week we spent in Norway we had nothing but beautiful clear sky and warm days. From what we were told, the entire summer before that was murky and rainy. We definitely picked the best time to go.
The climb
From the Borgund valley at around 400 m, we climbed all the way up to around 1200 m during the first half of the day. We followed a gravel road climbing the mountain and ran into the owner’s herd of sheep at one point. The sheep had stopped in the middle of the road and eyed us like motionless statues. With their horizonal pupils intensely focused on us, we felt uncomfortable… judged. We maintaining eye contact as we slowly approached the herd. It felt like a stare down in one of those old western movies. Then out of nowhere, they defecated before our very eyes and moved along. We felt we had been given the right of passage. We could now continue climbing up.
Admiring rock outcrops on our hike up the mountain
Along our journey up, we had to make many stops. The backpacks were heavy and our energy levels were not the greatest. I guess that’s what you get when you’re on a mostly ramen-berry diet for days in a row. At least we didn’t have any water shortages. There were plenty of small creeks we ran across on our way up. We were however a bit hesitant about drinking from the creek after our sheeply encounter. We decided to ration what we had and find a safer source, closer to the top.
The higher up, the better the view
A bit over half the way up we decided to make a base camp. We pitched our tent in a small clearing in the forest and left most of our heavy stuff there. Coming from Romania, we have an overly cautious attitude towards leaving belongings in the open where they can be easily stolen. In this situation we were on private property and far from anyone else. This was also Norway, not Romania. So begrudgingly I agreed to leave some of my stuff behind. However, I still refused to leave my big backpack. It was like my big blue baby. I wouldn’t abandon it.
Our new base camp with tent tucked away under the trees
On top of the world
Not too long after setting off from our new base camp we reached the start of the mountain plateau. Gone was the densely vegetated forest. Taking its place was alpine vegetation, with but a few scattered trees. Before us lay one final gentler climb to lake Vassetvatnet, flanked on both sides by gorgeous, tall peaks. We simply referred to them as the two monsters guarding the path. Behind us the scenery now opened up to reveal the deep valleys and neighboring peaks. It was magical.
The start of my victory pose, only to be used on rare, glorious occasions
We spent the rest of the daylight up there. Tried our luck once more with some fishing, but third time was not the charm. We tentatively climbed a portion of one of the monster peaks, but weren’t serious about going all the way. It had been a long day already and these peaks required a lot more energy then we had left. We also followed one of the small creeks all the way to its spring point, which was strangely satisfying. Fresh water, right from the source! A couple of times during our stay, we spotted a lonesome car driving away into the distance on the road. Somebody waving their hand at us from the car. Most likely the kind owner of the property. We returned the gesture.
Vassetvatnet, the lake with a dam and plenty of fish, but none for us
I find it hard to describe just how good I felt when we were up there. Perhaps it was the serenity of the place, or the sheer panoramic beauty. For whatever reason, that day there in particular managed to heal my troubled mind. All my troubles and worries from back home now washed away. At that moment, for me personally, our adventure had achieved its goal. I used that day to mentally get over all the hardships and struggles of my life back in Romania. I was forging a new purpose. Something to fight and strive for. I was going to make moving to Norway my one primary goal from that point on.
One of the two monster peaks rising just above 1600 m altitude
The end of a journey
Before heading back down to our tent for the night, we were treated to one of the most beautiful sunsets one could ask for. As the sun gradually disappeared behind the great fjords in the west, it felt as if the land itself was bidding us farewell. After a good night’s sleep, we packed our things the next morning and headed back to the bus stop.
A sunset over the fjords
We went back to Fagernes and our favorite camping ground to relax. Since it was our last day in Norway and we managed to not break the bank, we indulged ourselves with some local food. I recall the last evening in Fagernes camping as we melancholically stared across the lake. I pointed to a red building in the distance on top of the hill and told Daniel that that would be my house one day. With my loving Norwegian wife preparing some scrambled eggs for breakfast. He pointed out that that was in fact a barn. I didn’t care. It will do just fine! The heart was heavy, but the mind was more determined than ever before.
Strondafjorden lake, Fagernes
The day of our flight back from Oslo, the skies were overcast and an chilly autumn wind had arrived. It was the end of our journey for now. Just as we seemingly had brought the good weather with us, we were now taking it back. I was going to return to Norway one day. But twists and turns would redirect my life in many more ways before that day would come.
Our time in the great fjords had come and gone. The next morning we left Sogndal with a heavy heart and an empty stomach because “Dang, those food prices!”. I had honestly forgotten about our huge shock regarding the price of food during our first visit to Norway. But my good buddy Daniel reminded me in a recent chat while reminiscing about our old adventure. Indeed, we mostly ate out of our own reserves we took with us. Trying our best to avoid having to buy food, because let’s not forget, we were on a very tight budget. That’s what led us to hours of foraging while we’d go hiking. We were living off the land… and ramen noodles. We even got creative and made our own “berry burritos”. Basically a bunch of wild berries wrapped in sorrel leaves. Mmm… so healthy, but I digress.
We were now on our way back east from Sogndal. Crossing once more the great Sognefjord by ferry, we were heading towards a little settlement tucked away in the mountains of Lærdal called Borgund. We wanted to see one of the last remaining stave churches in Norway. Incidentally, Borgund is home to one of the most well preserved ones. Now I called Borgund a little settlement because, even by Norwegian standards, this place is tiny! As in, we counted like 7 houses. There wasn’t even a bus stop in Borgund. Instead, we had to get off in the middle of nowhere after exiting one of the tunnels in Lærdal, where a lonely sign said “Stave church” 1 km away.
Crossing the Sognefjord by ferry
Borgund Stave Church
We made our way to the Borgund Stave Church. Built more than 800 years ago, the church is classified as a triple-nave stave church of the Sogn-type. Its grounds contain Norway’s sole surviving stave-built free-standing bell tower. These days the church is run as a museum by the Society for the Preservation of Ancient Norwegian Monuments . For more details on the church, I’d direct you to everyone’s favorite free information website, wikipedia, where I also happened to yoink the previous statements from. If you’re considering visiting, you can check out their opening hours here .
The Borgund Stave Church, 2013
The outer part of the church was covered by a relatively fresh coat of tar when we visited. This is done regularly to protect the wood from the elements. The outside and insides are decorated with intricate wood carvings combining the old Norse pagan beliefs with Christian ones. The inside of the church is fairly dark in the absence of regular windows. Only a few rays of light are allowed in through narrow openings, mostly in the roof. The site definitely merits a visit for its uniqueness and historical significance.
The bell tower next to Borgund Stave Church
We were fortunate enough to be the only people visiting at the time. During our visit, we had a long friendly chat with one of the staff at the museum, a Spanish fellow by the name of Julio. We told him about our adventure and how it all began with a lost credit card at a sandwich shop in Schiphol Airport. He was amused by our story so much so that he invited us to spend the night at his cabin. Well, his managers cabin where he was living. We happily accepted and would meet up with him again after his shift.
Tons of runic engravings on the old church door
The King’s road
The Stave Chruch was not the only historical site in Borgund as we found out. The old valley is also marked by a stretch of The King’s Road. Completed in 1791, the King’s Road was the first “drivable” road to link Eastern and Western Norway. Although, I personally wouldn’t attempt driving on it, it was definitely a wonderful hiking experience!
The narrow stretch of The King’s Road
Starting off from Borgund, the first stretch of the road was fairly narrow. More of a nice walking pathway. But I suppose a not too large carriage would fit through well enough. Then after a while the road widens up quite a bit and adds protective railing as a feature, taking on a true “Kingly” aspect. Makes me want to pull parallels with today’s way of building roads in Romania: here’s a perfectly good stretch of 1 km highway, followed by “Oh my God what is wrong with this road !@#”. But that wouldn’t be a fair comparison. The old Norwegians actually finished their roads, hah!
The wide and smooth “Kingly” stretch of The King’s Road
Suffice to say it was a perfect 1-2 hour walk on a nice and warm sunny day. Plenty of berries to forage on the way too, in case you want to replenish your strength!
Plans change. Again…
After our royal hike, we went back to Borgund to meet up with Julio and head back to his cabin. We spent the late afternoon talking and relaxing by the river. I fondly remember the homemade chorizo he offered us. After days of ultra-processed packed food and wild berries, some good quality meat was outstanding. Daniel and I munched up the entire plate. In retrospect we felt a bit bad about severely depleting poor Julio’s chorizo reserves. I hope his sister made more for him that year!
The Borgundsfjorden river flowing through the Borgund valley
Although our plan was to head back to Fagernes the next day, Daniel and I were still keen on going wild camping at least for one night. My mountain hiking hunger was also not fully satisfied yet. The “mountains” we’d climbed thus far were mere “tall hills” by my standards. I wanted something more significant, more challenging. Some place far away from the beaten path, where I could climb up and see the lands far and wide.
The winding King’s Road near Borgund
It so happened that one of Julio’s neighbors in Borgund owned the land covering the local mountains. Yes, you read correctly. Mountains. Plural. I don’t know if this sort of thing is normal for other places, but for us it sounded quite impressive. So after a quick message exchange, Daniel and I got permission to hike up a private mountain the next day. And let me tell you… This wasn’t one of those “tall hills”. No, no, no. This was the real deal!
Fagernes had to wait another day. We were ready for a new adventure!
