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.
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.
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
