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!
We arrived in Sogndalsfjøra in the afternoon and quickly made our way to the local camping ground by the fjord, on the west-side of town. There were quite a few people with RV’s and tents set up in the main camping area where the ground was flat and the grass was cut. They sounded mostly Norwegian and so we didn’t want to bother them too much with our rowdy eastern-European shouting way of speech. Thus, Daniel and I decided to pitch our tent further up the gentle slope where there was nobody else. Here the grass was tall and wild, overgrowing a small old playground too. No bother, we wanted wild camping anyway.
The town of Sogndalsfjøra on the Sognefjord, seen from the west side
As the sun was heading west, the mountain behind the campsite started slowly casting its great shadow. I wanted nothing more then to try to climb up on top of it! We set up our tent, left our stuff in camp and headed out to explore the area. We quickly made our way up the streets of the residential area looking for a path to take us up the mountain. Instead we wound up in someone’s backyard… Oops! We had a laugh with the owner and he pointed us in the right direction. Eventually, we made it up to a lovely clearing and were treated to a superb view of the surrounding area. We then headed back down to explore the town and decided to leave the full mountain hike for the next day.
Sogndalsfjøra
Like we’ve come to expect by this point Sogndalsfjøra was a nice and cozy, quiet little Norwegian town. We walked up and down the streets taking in the sights and the Norwegian chattering around us. It felt like we were the only foreign tourists in town. Well, except for this one other backpacker dude that we kept running into everywhere. I mean seriously. We saw this guy like 5 times popping up everywhere we went. We half expected to run into him in our tent too. Well… small town I guess.
Just an old Laben in town… (this will get a snicker out of any Romanian speaker… don’t ask why)
By the time we made it to the other side of town our stomachs were rumbling and the sun was starting to set. It was time to head back to camp.
Sogndalsfjøra from the east side with our camping ground to the far left at the foothills of the mountain
An adventurous evening
Once we got back and had a much needed meal in camp, we spent the last minutes of daylight chilling by the overgrown playground. As we’re goofing around on the swings, we suddenly notice an alarmingly large number of spiders inhabiting the corners of the swings, just a couple of meters away from our tent. Neither of us have any arachnophobia luckily, but the sight was quite unsettling. Especially when upon closer inspection we realize it was an entire nest of Cross spiders, with a gigantic mother queen in the middle. Now we understood why everyone else was camping on the nice patches of cut grass and not in the wild jungle we were in.
Apparently cross spider bites are harmless to humans, but at the time we weren’t sure about that. Back in Romania we used to be told to keep away from these types of spiders because they can land you a trip to the hospital. Regardless, it was now dark and we couldn’t really move all of our stuff until the next day. As long as we kept the tent closed, I thought, we should be fine. Daniel, however, was not having it. He was hell bent on usurping the queen mother, but wasn’t sure how to do it. Within a few minutes, he shows up with a pot and pan in hand, ready to strike the killing blow. I strongly advised against this rash and reckless course of action, but he wouldn’t listen.
The mother queen!
With arms spread out far to keep a safe distance, he bashes the two items together in the most clumsy way imaginable hoping to squish the spider-queen. The pot and pan fall out of his hands dropping into the spider-infested grass. The murder weapons were safely recovered and inspected for proof of success. However, it seemed like the assassination attempt was failed. As a good friend, I reminded him of how I advised him not to do this. Now the spider-queen would come back to get him in his sleep!
Our spidery hosts
Sogndal hiking
We survived the night and woke up the next day to a bunch of our lovely spidery hosts investigating the outer layers of our tent. Thankfully none ever got inside of the tent. We just had to be careful when going in and out of the tent, so as to not have any unwelcomed guests. Otherwise, we had grown accustomed to our new eight legged friends. After the morning ritual we decided to head back up the mountain behind us and climb up all the way to the top this time.
Hiking around in Sogndal
As I recall, it was a good hour or so hike up through the shady forest. On our way we found a decent variety of mushrooms, but didn’t attempt picking any. Neither of us were mushroom experts. On the way we constantly got glimpses of the spectacular views through the trees. Oh and there was this random wooden shack on the way. Probably holding someone’s secret shroom-stash.
Shelter, or private shroom-shack?
Towards the top, just as we were coming out of the forest, we found this large patch of blueberry bushes. I think we spent at least half an hour munching on those. Every time we’d want to continue we’d stop to just take a few more. We also had this pack of almonds with us and discovered how amazingly well almonds go with blueberries.
To eat, or not to eat?
Breathtaking views
Beyond the rich blueberry fields, we came across a small lake surrounded by swampy ground where we met a couple of polish guys on their holiday. Beyond the tree line we got a glimpse of snow-capped mountains in the distance. We later learned that we were looking towards Fjærland, and one of the last remaining glacier fields in Europe. The sight was just so incredible and unexpected. We discussed possibly going there the next day, but eventually decided not to. We weren’t really equipped for snowy conditions and were already half way into our holiday time.
The glorious mountains of Fjærland in the distance
We continued our hike on the trail towards the south. At one point, we found this curious cube placed on top of a dried up tree. Could it be the famous cubic oracle of ancient folklore described by various tripped out shamans of old? Either that, or a moose attracting salt block.
Oh great cube, imbue us with your salty nature and show us what you’ve seen!
Hiking on, we got a good glimpse, and shot of this big pointy antenna thingy that was sticking out from one of the neighboring mountains. We kept seeing this thing from camp too and named it the Soyuz, just because it looked like some Russian rocket ready to blast off into space.
Soyuz to the Moon!
Finally we reached the southern edge of our trail and got treated to the most spectacular views of the Sognefjord!
Sognefjord, view towards the west
Gone fishing
Later that day, we went back down to the fjord. Daniel was ready to try out his fishing prowess once more. There were many attempts and I believe at least one more hook was lost. The end result was a bunch of tangled fishing line and a half-decent clump of oozing seaweed.
Catch of the day, 100% vegan friendly
While he was busy figuring out his tangled wires, I decided to take a dip in the fjord. I mean, one should not simply travel all the way to the fjords without testing the waters. In conclusion, the waters were cold. But not too cold. Like it was ok to take a dip and wash off, but anything more then that was just brrr.
“Brrr-o-meter” was not great, not terrible
After we had our fun in the fjord, we hiked around the edge of town some more, checking out some nice looking rock outcrops. Hey, we’re geologist. We’ll sometimes randomly do that kind of stuff. Funky folding rock textures
The day was almost over now and it was time to say farewell to Sogndal, to our spider friends, to the random backpacker dude we never talked to, to the Soyuz and everyone else. I’m always a bit sad when I’m more than half way through my trip, because I realize the adventure is soon coming to an end.
We left our runic mark in the sands of Sogndal. I don’t remember what we wrote, so I’ll just assume it was something nice like love and hugs… Ah, who am I kidding, it was definitely something obscene!
We had about 3 days left of our holiday and the current plan was to start heading back east the next day. We would stop for a day somewhere in the mountainous regions of Lærdal to check out a historic stave church and hopefully do some more hiking. Then we’d go back to Fagernes and spend the rest of our time there. However, don’t forget… plans change…
The journey from Fagernes towards the west-fjords remains one of the most impressive bus-rides for me to date. The way in which the mountain range grew and grew, with steeper and ever more imposing cliffs presented some of the most breathtaking views I’ve seen. As a mountain lover I just had to hike up on one of those beauties!
The rising mountain ranges along the road from Fagernes, to Sogndal, Norway
If memory serves, we still didn’t have an exact destination in mind. All Daniel and I knew was we wanted to reach the sea water coming in through the fjords. Although, there were a few spots with a bus stop where I fantasized about getting off and just start hiking. There was this beautiful little spot, in the middle of nowhere, well within the Jotunheim mountain range. The only sign of civilization were a couple of houses by a lake, with gorgeous valleys and mountains behind. We talked about potentially stopping there for a day on our way back. However, we weren’t sure if the bus would always stop, or we’d end up stuck there. Ah, who would want to leave there anyway!
Picturesque view from the road somewhere around Tyinkrysset, Norway.
Crossing the fjords
Well within the mountains now, the valleys following small rivers became ever narrower. The cliffs flanking the road seemed to engulf us on all sides. The bus came to a stop for about half an hour, or more in a small town in Årdal. The town was situated by the water, with the most imposing mountain cliffs surrounding it. The instant I walked out of the bus, my fear of heights/tall things kicked in. I felt like I was in a big bucket, with the gigantic rock facades ready to collapse on top of me. As beautiful and impressive as it was, I think I just quickly took a couple of pictures and went back into the bus due to my anxiety. It is quite an annoying phobia that I still sometimes struggle with to this day.
A brief stop in Årdal, Norway
It was in Årdal where got our first taste of the mighty fjords. The small river now opened up into a huge body of flowing water, carving its way through the deep valley. Soon after, our bus climbed on to a large ferry. This was the end of the road. The only way forward from here was by boat!
Crossing the fjords by ferry from Årdal to Sogndal
Sogndal
After the 10-15 minutes ferry ride, we were back on the road and close to what became our final destination in west-Norway. I don’t recall if we had planned ahead, or it was another one of those spontaneous decisions, but Sogndal was as far as we would go. Specifically the village of Sogndalsfjøra nestled in the heart of the Sognefjord. We found yet another camping ground and settled in for two days of hiking and exploring.
Sogndalsfjøra, Norway
Our stay in Sogndal was fraught with adventure: deadly spiders, breathtaking vistas, polish people, mushrooms and more! I will elaborate in my next post of this series.
The next day we had quite a few hours to kill before our bus arrived. So we decided to spend the better part of our morning walking around the small, quiet town of Dokka. Around noon, we took the next bus going west, towards the great Norwegian mountains and fjords. As we drove on, the small hills grew bigger, slowly transitioning into steep-cliff mountains. After just over an hour, we decided to get off the bus in Fagernes, a small city in the Valdres Nature and Culture Park, Norway.
Fagernes, Norway (2013)
Fagernes
The city is situated on the shores of the beautiful Strondafjorden lake, flanked by hills and mountain peaks on all sides. The landscape showcases the transition from the gentle lowlands to the east to the imposing Jotunheim Mountains to the west. As you may imagine, the area around the city provides some excellent hiking opportunities, with truly breathtaking views. Meanwhile Strondafjorden lake serves as a great swimming and fishing spot, as well as seaplane runway.
Strondafjorden lake, seen from Vesleøye island
Fagernes camping
After getting off the bus, Daniel and I made our way to the local campground. Nestled between mount Storøyi and lake Strondafjorden, Fagernes camping offers cabins, apartments and plenty of green space for pitching your tent. The restroom and showers were very clean and well kept. However, I clearly remember there being some sort of a water usage tax when using the facilities, which was very odd to me at the time. With our less then impressive budget, we were quite reluctant to use the shower as we expected exorbitant prices. After all, we were in one of the most expensive countries in the world. Hell, even using the restrooms freaked us out because what if it doesn’t stop flushing? We’d be literally flushing our savings down the nice and clean Norwegian toilet.
Cabins for rent in Fagernes camping
Aside from the quirky water-tax, Fagernes campground was and remains easily one of my favorite camping grounds. Overlooking the small island of Vesleøye with the city and gentle hills in the background, the view from our tent by the lakeside was simply incredible. Flocks of ducks would often swim around on the lake in front of us. A little seaplane was parked right across from us on the other side of the lake. Every few hours it would lake take off, only to return not long after. Considering the small size of the town, we were wondering whether the owner was simply flying off to do his grocery shopping elsewhere.
Our neighbour flying out to do his grocery shopping
To the southeastern edge of the camp, we found a pathway leading into the forest just beneath mount Storøyi. We spent the rest of the day hiking and exploring the city and surrounding forests.
Resident ducks playing around on Strondafjorden lake
Fantasy forests
I wanted to take a moment and share my appreciation for the forests around this region of Norway. Dominated by coniferous trees, the forests around Fagernes seemed straight out of a fantasy world. This was mostly due to the thick mossy carpet covering the ground almost entirely. It felt like walking on pillows and blankets. I had never seen anything like that before. Rock outcrops and boulders would often peak out from under the green rug, but still wearing an appropriate little moss cap. Colorful mushrooms and blueberry bushes would occasionally spice up the environment.
Moss, moss everywhere!
A curious thing we noticed was that tourists were way more interested in picking blueberries then the locals. In fact, I think we never saw any Norwegians foraging. Perhaps they were jaded from all their blueberry-munching ancestors that came before. Oh well, more for us!
Amanita muscaria, a mildly poisonous and hallucinogenic mushroom, common throughout Europe
Onwards, westward!
After an active afternoon hiking around, we decided to try out a local burger join. Sadly I forgot the name of the place, but I recall the burger was huge and delicious. The price was also quite huge. Enough so to make anyone’s eyes water and wallet bleed… but hey, it’s Norway!
Hey, it’s Norway! – Fagernes camping
Another hike later, we ended up back in camp, practicing our terrible knife-throwing skills at the edge of the forest. We enjoyed the rest of our evening lounging by the lake. It was at this time my dreams of a cool, bug-free northern paradise were dashed by the several huge mosquitos constantly pestering us. Daniel proposed that these were some sort of dragonflies as they were too big and it was too cold for mosquitos. My obvious mosquito bites by the next day would put a dent in his theory. So, word to the wise: pack mosquito repellent if you go camping in Norway!
Our evening view from Fagernes camping
The next morning we packed up and took the next bus westward. Deeper into the Jotunheim Mountain range, with the goal to reach the west-fjords.
Greetings dear reader. I thought to take a little break from the hiking in north-Transylvania series and instead focus on one of my most important and beloved travel-experiences: Norway. The story begins around early 2013. I was at one of my lower points in life, jobless and aimless, waiting on promises that would never come. I still clung onto a strand of hope that I would leave the country for a better future somewhere else. But it was becoming less and less clear where, or how.
It was during this time that one of my best friends, Daniel, was trying to cheer me up with ideas of going on a summer adventure somewhere abroad. We were half-joking about going to Thailand and then maybe I’d just stay there and try to open a cheap bar. I say half-joking, because there was real intent to the madness. I just needed to get away and do something else, start anew. But for me, money was constantly an issue, however Daniel promised he’d help me cover a lot of my travel costs. Slowly, but surely, as summer drew close it was becoming less of a joke and more of a plan.
However, the plan would change when a high-risk for tourists warning was given out for Thailand during that time. We floated around a couple of other ideas for places we’d like to go to. The one that ended up sticking was Norway. We were both fascinated by the Viking culture and dreamed of seeing the great fjords and mountains in the cool, wild north. Thus, as August drew close, we began planning our great road trip from Oslo to the west-fjords.
A Norwegian susnet
Plans change… again
Our plane landed in Oslo at around 11 pm. We were giddy with excitement to step onto “sacred” Viking land for the first time. We initially didn’t plan to book any accommodation, instead wanted to grab the rental car and start camping from day one. However, thanks to peer-pressure from our families we decided to book a room for the first night. This ended up being a very wise move. We quickly made our way to the car rental place. Daniel was in charge of the whole driving thing, I was a but a simple co-pilot and car-dj. As he was taking care of the paperwork, he starts searching through his wallet for his credit card. I will never forget how his expression gradually deteriorated from high excitement to sheer despair as he realized he forgot his card…
There we were at Oslo airport, extremely underfunded and unable to even take out the car he had rented. Our glorious travel plan crumbling to pieces. I started laughing hysterically, while he was beating himself up over how he lost his card. I mean, what can you do? Shit happens. It was cartoonishly funny.
We ended up taking probably one of the most expensive taxis ever to our hotel. Then I called my parents and kindly asked them to heavily load up my credit card with money. They would, of course, get this back once we returned. That took care of our financial issues, but we still couldn’t rent out a car, because they wouldn’t allow for one person to rent and another to drive? I don’t remember the reasoning, but it was very weird… Suffice to say, we had 7 days to spend in Norway and one night to figure out what to do.
The view from our hotel room in the morning – Norway, August 2013
Just have an open mind
It was a good thing we had that first night accommodation booked. It was also a good thing we didn’t have any other accommodation booked. We briefly considered spending the week in Oslo. Then we thought about taking a train up north to Trondhejm, or beyond. We could either find a camping ground, or go wild-camping, since this is allowed in Norway. In the end, we decided to just go to the Oslo bus terminal and take the first bus going north and get off where we please. Then, the next day, we’d do the same, in a different direction. Rinse and repeat until we both complete our primary goals: to reach the big fjords and to hike up a glorious Norwegian mountain.
Now I can’t say how the initial road-trip plan would have went. I imagine it would have been fun. But what we ended up doing instead was a way better adventure-trip then we ever expected! Perhaps it was the hilariously unfortunate beginning, or the sheer spontaneity that forged our plan. I don’t know, but every day was like opening a mystery box. Where are we? Where are we going? Don’t know, don’t care, but it’s fun as hell! This would be my first big lesson on how it’s better to be flexible and not stress about planning out the details of your travels.
Don’t stress, just gaze up and enjoy the view! – Norway 2013
Dokka – a little place in the middle of nowhere
We took our first bus up north. It was there that we discovered one of the joys modern western society: Nettbus, bus with free internet! Well, actually year later, Daniel tells me that Nettbus means grid-bus in Norwegian. But hey, there really was free internet! The experience was nothing like traveling by bus in Romania. The drive was so smooth and enjoyable. The roads were extremely well maintained. Everything was so clean… The landscape was also quite different. Mostly birch-covered gentle hills flanking lakes and marshland. We just sat back and enjoyed the ride, the scenery and the free internet!
Riding the Nettbus up north from Oslo
After around 4 to 5 hours on the bus, we decided to get off in a small little town of less than 3000 people called Dokka. The little town seemingly in the middle of nowhere had its own campsite! This was where we stayed for our second night. The camp was located near a small river. It was very peaceful, not crowded at all. The perfect weekend retreat after a long weeks worth of work. Daniel was hyped about trying out his mad fishing skills for the first time. I believe it was here that he lost his first fishing hook. Score one for the river.
Dokka camping ground, Norway
Our evening in Dokka was very relaxing. We cooked our meal by the river and had our first “wild” Norwegian sunset with some ramen noodles. On the next day, we decided we’d start heading west towards the mountains.
The cruel river that refused to provide us with fresh fish
In my previous post on hiking in north-Transylvania I left off at the village of Firiza, located north of Baia Mare city. Firiza is a typical quiet, rustic north-Transylvanian village nested in the Firiza valley. The crossroads at the north-end of the village marks the end of the bus line. The east-bound road crosses the Black Valley (Valea Neagră), leading to a regionally well-known skiing resort, Staţiunea Izvoare. The north-bound road leads to the village of Blidari and theoretically goes much further to a very large and beautiful mountain plateau called Platou Runcu. However, I say theoretically because last I checked the road was so insanely bad that no normal car should attempt that and expect to make it out in one piece.
Luckily one doesn’t need to go all the way to Runcu for a wonderful hiking experience. At the northern edge of Blidari you can see a large rocky cliff from the road and you may think to yourself “Wow, that place must offer some great scenic views”, and you would be absolutely right! The exposed cliff is called Piatra Bulzului, which translates as the Bulz’s Stone and is a great medium difficulty day-hike from Blidari.
Piatra Bulzului, seen from the road in the Blidari valley, 2014
Piatra Bulzului
The hike to the cliff begins from the main road down in the Blidari valley. Just as you’re coming out of the village, there is an easy-to-miss sign pointing towards the forest. Turns out there’s actually a trail amid the thick bush and trees.
Hmm, now where could that sign be?
The first half an hour, or so you will follow a gentle slope up the mountain. Sporadic crooked wooden fences mark private property along the trail so make sure not to cross those. During the autumn season, the leaf-covered soil gives way to several types of mushrooms. Some edible and some not so much. Make sure to pack a book on identifying local mushrooms if you’re considering picking some!
Common puffball (edible mushroom) on the hiking trail to Piatra Bulzului
Wildlife
The second part of the journey takes you through the colorful beech and birch tree forest where you start getting glimpses of the surrounding mountains and hills. During this stretch, some of the slopes can be fairly inclined. You will also be fairly far away from any houses and human activity by this point, so there is a higher chance of encountering wildlife.
I’ve briefly discussed the dangers of wild boars while hiking in north-Transylvania. However, the Blidari region presents a new potential danger, namely Romania’s brown bear. Unfortunately, bear encounters have become more common over the last decades as human settlements continue to encroach on the bear’s habitat. Bears will generally try to avoid humans, so when hiking in bear territory it’s best to make noise and let your presence be known. I would also recommend packing a can of bear spray, just to be on the safe side.
Hiking up the trail
Reaching the top
The final stretch of the journey is marked by the increasing number of rock outcrops peeking out from under the blanket of leaves. As you get closer to the top, the outcrops grow in size and number. You will notice that all of the rocks here are mostly black, with some minor surface weathering. These rocks are basalts that formed during the Neogene volcanism, between 12 and 7 million years ago.
Rock outcrops near the top of the mountain
Before climbing the last narrow stretch up to the top, you can try to look for the hidden grot on the north-side of the cliff. Mind you, it’s not easy to find. When you’re ready, go on ahead and make the final climb along the large rocky outcrop. As you go up, the forest opens up to reveal a breathtaking view. Congratulations, you’ve reached the top of Piatra Bulzului!
South-facing view from Piatra Bulzului, autumn 2014
In the final part of my north-Transylvania series, I will take you on a steam-train ride along the Vișeu valley!
Traditional wooden shacks in Maramureș county, Romania
In my previous post, I talked briefly about “The Park” in Baia Mare city and how it’s a gateway to easily accessible hiking trails. I mentioned that the path northeast, takes you to Roman valley (Valea Romană), which was one of my favorite regions to hike. This will be the focus of today’s post.
The Roman valley
Located about 7 km north of Baia Mare, the Roman valley stretches around 2 km, from east to west along a small river. The valley is flanked by forest covered hills and short-mountains (up to 850 m high). The river flows from the mountains eastwards eventually reaching Lake Firiza. Several hiking paths cross the valley, but the most common one follows the river direction. The main path is fairly wide and can also be crossed by bicycle, motorcycle or ATV. The landscape itself is beautiful and offers a great retreat from urban life, while being relatively close to the city.
Hiking in the Roman valley during February (2013)
Main path during summer, 2015
Mount Igniș (1307 m), viewed from the Roman valley (2014)
Mushroom season
Numerous pastures and fern-covered meadows dot the region and offer the opportune environment for one of the most sought-after edible mushrooms in Europe: the parasol mushroom. The parasol, also known as Macrolepiota procera, is one of the most easily identifiable edible mushrooms. Its cream-colored and brown dotted “scale-like” cap set it apart from other mushrooms species in the region. I am by no means an expert on mushrooms, but I find that the parasol is definitely one of the easiest ones to identify. It’s fairly common throughout European countries and it’s delicious!
Young parasol mushroom in the Roman valley (2014)
The parasol season starts around late-spring, during May and ends in October. Personally, I found that they spring up more during spring and autumn, and less so during the summer. This might be due to the more abundant rain during these periods. This is also the time that you are more likely to see other people walking on the paths, as locals often go mushroom-picking during the high season. You can read more here about how to identify the parasol, as well as some cooking tips!
How to get there
You have two options to get to the Roman valley from Baia Mare city. You can take a car up the 183 county road going northeast from the city. When you reach Lake Firiza, you will want to drive another 2 km (~3 minutes) from the Adventure Lake Resort, until you reach the big bend in the road, with a forest road heading west. There will be a barrier on the road, so you’ll have to leave the car there – don’t worry, there is enough space and everybody does this! Alternatively, you can take a public bus from Baia Mare, to Firiza and get off at the Firiza Lake stop. You’ll have to walk a bit to get to the forest road, so make sure you have a map, or someone with you that knows the area!
Forest road from Roman valley ending in the 183 county road (2013)
A more exciting options to reach the Roman valley, is to hike 6-7 km all the way from the Queen Mary Municipal Park in Baia Mare. You can do this by following Petőfi Sándor street along the park and continuing north up Usturoiul valley. At one point the road turns left just after the last power lines end at a private cabin. At this point you don’t want to continue on the road, as it leads to the village of Ulmoasa. You should instead go straight, following the tight valley going north. You can add to the adventure by having a compass with you to help keep you north-bound! This is kind of an off-the path hike, so don’t worry if it seems like you’re going nowhere. As long as you keep north, you will end up in the Roman valley.
I personally preferred hiking from the city, then following the valley east on the forest road. To get back, I would just take the bus from Lake Firiza to Baia Mare. If you want to extend your trip, you can also take the bus up north to Firiza and spend a night at a cabin. I will talk more about this region in my next post!
Curious dragonfly while hiking in the Roman valley (2015)
