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.
