The first half of 2018 was rather uneventful. I was unemployed and spent most of my time searching for jobs. I was also busy with an internship during this period and it wasn’t until early summer that I took some time to go out on a few travels and adventures. That’s not to say that the spring was completely dull.
GEUS
As mentioned in my previous post I had managed to secure an internship at GEUS (The Geological Survey of Denmark and Greenland), which I hoped would lead into a temporary work contract. Unfortunately, due to budget constraints it never did, but my time there was well spent.
I learned about fluid inclusions in minerals and eventually wrote a protocol for them on the subject. I also got to travel to Aarhus for a day trip to network and learn from one of Denmark’s foremost experts. On top of that, I got to collaborate with and befriend one of the coolest researchers I had met, the head of the LA-ICP-MS lab and my boss at GEUS, Tonny Thomsen.
A gloomy day of March in Aarhus, Denmark (2018)
Whenever I met someone new in my field of work, I would inquire about potential job opportunities. Despite my efforts, nothing materialized. Not that people weren’t interested in working with me, but there was always a timing, or money issue.
It seemed like I was stuck being unemployed for now. Nonetheless, I carried on with my search. Broadening my horizons outside of Denmark. I began applying for research projects in Germany, Belgium, the UK and sometimes the occasional project outside of Europe.
Off the coast of Zealand, Denmark
As the weather improved late in the spring, it brought back good memories of long cycling trips from the year before. I yearned to take a break and go out and explore again, so I convinced my flat-mate to join me on a day’s cycling trip to the chalky cliffs of Stevns Klint.
Stevns Klint
On a mid-May’s sunny day, we took the S-train to Køge, south of Copenhagen, and then hopped on our bikes for the rest of the 1.5 hour journey. Less memorable than the coastal road to Helsingør, the route to Stevns Kilnt took us across endless farmlands and a couple of small villages. Even if the trip there was rather dull, the destination more than made up for it.
Arriving at Højerup, a small town nearest to Stevns Klint
Located on the eastern coast of Zealand, Stevns Klint is a stunning 15-kilometer-long white chalk cliff that doesn’t just offer breathtaking views, but holds a story that changed the history of life on Earth. Recognized as a UNESCO World Heritage Site, this cliff is one of the most scientifically important locations in the world for understanding the mass extinction that wiped out the dinosaurs.
Where dinosaurs met their end
What makes Stevns Klint so unique is a thin, dark layer of clay found within its layers of chalk and limestone. Known as the “fish clay”, this band is rich in iridium, a rare element more commonly found in asteroids than on Earth. This thin layer marks the Cretaceous-Paleogene (K-Pg) boundary, about 66 million years ago, and provides compelling evidence that a giant asteroid struck Earth – the same event believed to have triggered the extinction of nearly 75% of all species, including the non-avian dinosaurs.
The chalky cliffs at Stevns Klint
As you can imagine, the cliff is a paradise for geologists and paleontologists. My flat-mate, also a geologist was ecstatic. Before moving to Denmark he worked as a paleontologist on a research project in Romania. This was right up his alley.
The fish clay-extinction band running along the side of the cliff
Fossils preserved in the chalk layers above and below the iridium-rich boundary reveal a vivid picture of life before and after the impact. Tiny marine organisms like foraminifera show a sharp decline right at the boundary, offering one of the clearest extinction markers in the world. Scientists continue to study Stevns Klint to understand not only how life vanished but also how it rebounded in the aftermath.
Bonus modern attractions
Surprisingly enough, Stevns Klint isn’t just about ancient history. The geological features of the cliff weren’t news to me, but as we discovered the area also had stories from more recent times. Perched dramatically at the cliff’s edge is Højerup Church, a medieval church built around 1250. At the time located safely inland, but over the centuries inching ever closer to the edge due to relentless erosion of the cliff.
Højerup Church
For generations, the local legend warned that the cliff was retreating, inch by inch. In fact, there’s a Danish saying: “The church moves one cock-step closer to the sea every Christmas Eve.” While poetic, that warning became very real on March 16, 1928, when a large section of the cliff collapsed, taking the entire eastern part of the structure with it. Immediately decommissioned for religious services, the locals rallied to preserve what remained of the church.
The back of Højerup Church inching towards the sea
Beneath the cliffs, hidden in the limestone, is another surprise attraction. Namely the Stevnsfort Cold War Museum, a once-secret fortress built to withstand nuclear attacks during the Cold War.
Stevnsfort
Built in 1953, at the height of Cold War tensions, Stevnsfort was part of NATO’s front line defense. Its strategic location on the coast of Zealand gave it a commanding view over the Øresund Strait, a crucial naval passage between the Baltic Sea and the North Sea. The fortress was designed to help detect and, if necessary, halt Soviet warships attempting to reach Western Europe.
Rocket artillery pieces on display in the museum courtyard
For decades, the site was fully operational and highly classified. It wasn’t until the early 2000’s that the base was officially decommissioned and turned into a museum. Even as a museum it’s so hidden from sight that we didn’t notice it until we were leaving Stevns Klint. Only then did the huge tank and rocket artillery on display in the courtyard catch my eye, spurring me to investigate.
Nothing like posing with the Centurion MBT in your cycling gear…
Unfortunately though, it was fairly late in the afternoon and we wouldn’t have had time for a proper visit before closing time. That’s one attraction I regret never taking the time to go back to while still living in Denmark.
Day trip to Sweden
A couple of months later, my friends and I were preparing for another excursion. I don’t recall how and why we decided on this, but we were basically going to visit Malmö in Sweden for half a day.
Located just across the Øresund strait from Copenhagen, Malmö is the third largest city on Sweden and the largest city in the southernmost province of Skåne. The two cities are linked by one of Europe’s most impressive feats of engineering, the Øresund bridge.
The Øresund bridge on a muggy morning, seen from the Danish side
Opened in 2000, this impressive structure not only connected the two Nordic cities, but also formed a vital artery between Scandinavia and the rest of Europe. Spanning approximately 16 kilometers in total, the crossing combines a 7.8 km cable-stayed bridge with a 4 km underwater tunnel, joined in the middle by an artificial island named Peberholm. Accommodating both a 4-lane motorway and a dual-track railway, the bridge has become a cultural icon, famously featured in Nordic noir television and admired for its sleek design and ambitious scale.
The Øresundståg train, was the most convenient option for us. You can board it at several stations on the Danish side, including Copenhagen Central, Nørreport, Østerport stations, as well as Kastrup at Copenhagen Airport. The ride lasted about 40 minutes from downtown Copenhagen. Before we knew it we were already in Sweden.
Malmö
Once an industrial port town, Malmö has undergone a drastic transformation into a modern, eco-conscious city. So much so that it has taken the top on the list of Europe’s greenest cities.
Walking around Malmö
One of the most striking symbols of Malmö’s reinvention is the Turning Torso, a twisting skyscraper designed by Santiago Calatrava, which towers over the city’s redeveloped Western Harbour (Västra Hamnen). This area, once a shipyard, is now a model for sustainable urban living, featuring energy-efficient buildings, green spaces, and a popular seaside promenade.
The Turning Torso skyscraper in Malmö
Close encounter of the green kind
Malmö is also known for its strong tradition of activism and social engagement. It has long been a politically progressive city, often leaning left in Sweden’s political spectrum. It has a history of grassroots organizing and is home to numerous NGOs, cultural centers, and activist groups advocating for equality, justice, and environmental sustainability. I bring this up because even during our short visit we ran across activists engaging with people on the streets.
Dude just casually kite surfing the canals in Malmö
In our case, it was a vocal group advocating for veganism to combat animal cruelty and industrial farming through reduction of meat consumption. As much as we sympathized with the cause, we were not really the right target audience for their campaign, as at least at the time, we were all uncompromising meat-eaters. This lead to a few snarky remarks and “troll-face” exchanges, which the activists were not pleased with.
We weren’t there to please them, of course, just to explore and have a bit of fun, even if it meant rolling our eyes at a few preachy, virtue-signaling activists parading their self-fed moral superiority for all to admire.
Old town
Despite its modernity, Malmö still honors its historical roots. The medieval Stortorget and Lilla Torg squares are nestled among charming cobblestone streets in the old town, while landmarks like St. Peter’s Church offer a glimpse into the city’s rich past.
Statue of Karl X Gustav in Stortorget
The architecture in this area showcases the city’s rich history, with a blend of Renaissance, Baroque, and Neo-Gothic styles, similar to Copenhagen’s historic center. The nearby Malmöhus Castle, a Renaissance fortress now housing museums and exhibitions, stands as a testament to centuries of regional history.
Ready to go home after a day of exploring Malmö
After walking around the harbor and central areas for a few hours, we plopped down in the city’s main square and soaked in the afternoon sun. With a pleasant day of city-exploring behind us, we were ready to head back to the train station and Copenhagen.
During late November, 2017, while I was routinely scrolling through my Facebook feed, a random ad post caught my eye. It was from DFDS, a Danish international shipping and logistics company, and read something like “The cheapest ferry ride ever”, roundtrip from Copenhagen to Oslo.
With a raised eyebrow, and high skepticism I decided to check it out on their website and, it was indeed legit. Copenhagen to Oslo, round trip on selected dates within the next couple of weeks for 2 DKK… I repeat, TWO KRONER… That’s less than a dollar!
Full moon spontaneity
This was one of those rare opportunities for a spontaneous adventure that I couldn’t pass up. However, I hoped to get at least one of my friends on board to go with. This wasn’t the easiest thing to do as most of my friends were working at the time and couldn’t, or wouldn’t just want to suddenly take time off. Having recently graduated, I had the “luxury” of still being unemployed. Luckily, there was at least one other person I could think of in a similar boat.
None other than Eddy, my Nigerian colleague and close friend from KU who had also recently graduated and was job-searching. I quickly reached out to him with a proposal to take a break from the mundane and to join me on the cheapest ferry ride ever.
Setting sail
Within a week or so, Eddy and I were ready to embark on our dirt cheap journey to Norway. The ferry departs daily at 16:40 from Copenhagen and arrives in Oslo the next morning at around 10:00. It stays in port until around the same time in the afternoon before returning to Copenhagen. To keep to the theme of cheapest trip ever, both of us made sure to pack enough sandwiches to last us through the outbound journey.
Nordhavn, Copenhagen, before departure
Once on board, we left our things in our cabin in the bowels of the ship and rushed up and out onto the deck to enjoy the view; and what a view it was… Since it was around early December, it was already nightfall by the time we were supposed to leave. Copenhagen’s lights glimmered and shined against the fading hues of the late sunset, their reflections dancing over the dark, rippling waters.
Not long after, the ship began to slowly drift away from the shore. As we floated away, the bay of Nordhavn offered some excellent photo opportunities that I couldn’t pass up. The downside was that the chilly wind and ship’s movements made it hard to get a clean shot since my camera didn’t have stabilizer.
Eddy and I, ready to set sail
After leaving Copenhagen behind, we returned to our rooms to warm up and rest. This was my first time traveling on a big ship and I was curious if and how the rocking motion would affect me. For the first hours of the trip we could barely feel any movement. Eddy fell asleep and I sat in my bed reading and doom-scrolling through my phone.
The Kattegat sea
A couple of hours into our trip, the rocking had begun. It was very subtle at first, especially while laying in bed, but I noticed that I’d constantly have to reposition myself as I kept sliding off the bed. The novelty of this excited me and I immediately got up to go topside.
Old photos of ferry ships of the DFDS fleet on display
We had now left the calm waters of the Øresund strait and were sailing into the much more turbulent Kattegat sea. As I walked towards the deck, the rocking was way more prevalent. It wasn’t bad by any means, but it felt and looked as if everyone on the ship was a bit drunk. Once I got out, I was instantly hit by rushing cold winds and water droplets from the waves smashing into the side of the hull.
It felt bad enough that I didn’t want to get anywhere near the handrails. Instead, I kept close to the walls and enjoyed the raw elements battering our ship in the night from a safe distance. I was also pleasantly relieved that I didn’t feel any motion sickness. In fact the entire night trip was quite pleasant and I think all that rocking even helped put me to sleep faster.
Arriving in Oslo
When we got up the next morning, we finished our sandwiches and rushed back up onto the deck to be greeted by the sights of the Oslofjord.
Sailing through the Oslofjord
Sailing past residential and industrial buildings scattered across the surrounding hills, our ship slowly but surely made its way along the fjord and into the port of Oslo. As we turned to dock, one building in particular stuck out with its bold, modern, angular shape. Namely the Oslo Opera House, situated in Oslo harbor.
Oslo Opera House looking like an iceberg
After disembarking, Eddy and I wandered off into the busy streets of the city for a day of sightseeing.
Oslo
Arriving in Oslo feels like stepping into a city that balances its rich past with a crisp, modern energy. The Norwegian capital, founded over a thousand years ago during the Viking Age, has grown from a medieval trading post into a vibrant waterfront city. Walking along the harbor at Aker Brygge, you can see sleek new buildings standing beside old wooden piers, where merchant ships once unloaded goods from across Europe.
Oslo harbor from the ship’s deck
Heading inland, we followed the wide, clean streets past the striking Oslo City Hall, a huge red-brick building famous for hosting the Nobel Peace Prize ceremony. Its twin towers loom above the harbor, decorated with murals and carvings that tell stories of Norway’s seafaring and working-class roots. From there, the city begins to open up.
Oslo City Hall (Rådhus)
Crossing into the city center, we passed through the People’s Theater (Folketeateret), an art deco building that once hosted grand operas and plays, and today holds concerts and modern performances under its stately old signage.
Folketeatret, also home to a weird sculpture of Kate Moss in a yoga position, among other things
As we continued along some of the side streets, we came across this amusing giraffe mural on one of the buildings, its long neck and goofy-looking face resembling ET the extraterrestrial.
ET the giraffe
After about an hour of strolling through the streets, we arrived at the The Royal Palace (Det kongelige slott), located at the end of Karl Johans gate, the main boulevard of the city. Built between 1824 and 1848, the palace is the official residence of the Norwegian monarch.
Ain’t nothing like being back in Norway!
Standing as a historic landmark, the royal residence was originally built for King Charles III John, the first king of Norway after the country gained independence from Denmark.
Jul i Vinterland
Heading back from The Royal Palace, we passed by the central part of the University of Oslo’s historic campus and the Norwegian parliament building. It was around noon, so we were on the lookout for a cheap place to grab a bite. Not something easy to find in the center of Oslo.
University of Oslo building in the city center
As we strolled along Karl Johans gate, we came across “Jul i Vinterland”, Oslo’s largest and most iconic Christmas market. Located in Spikersuppa, a city square between the National Theatre and the Royal Palace, the enchanting market transforms the heart of the city into a festive wonderland each winter.
Oslo’s Christmas market
At the center of the market was an open-air ice skating rink, free for all to enjoy. Surrounded by twinkling lights and festive music, it provided a perfect setting for skating enthusiasts and families alike. Various amusement rides dotted the square, including a 40-meter-high Ferris wheel providing panoramic views of the city.
Food and drink stalls at Jul i Vinterland
All across the square bustling stalls offered a variety of gifts, clothing, toys, and culinary delights. We couldn’t pass up the chance to enjoy a cup of gløgg (mulled wine) while we were there.
Nothing like a cup of gløgg on a cold December day
As we stood there in the cool outdoors enjoying our hot beverage, the first snowflakes of the season started coming down, marking the start of winter. Even if it barely lasted a few minutes, it was just such a perfectly hygge moment… Being back in Norway and enjoying a hot drink in a festive atmosphere with one of my dearest friends while witnessing the first snowfall of the end of 2017.
Oslo harbor and heading back home
After leaving the market, we found a reasonably priced place to have a quick lunch and then made our way back to the harbor. We strolled around there for another hour, or two until it was time to head back to the ferry.
The Diver (Dykkaren) located along the harbor promenade
This was now my third time visiting Norway and thus far each of my visits had these memorable “feel good” moments that I will never forget. Be it the peaceful solitude of the lonely mountain high above the fjords in Borgund, the vivid sunset reddening the sky in Jostedalsbreen National Park, or the first snowfall at Oslo’s cozy Christmas market.
There was definitely something special about this country for me. Something that kept calling me back. Whether this would lead to a more permanent move there in the future was anyone’s guess. For the moment, it was time to head back home to Denmark.
Adios Oslo. Until next time!
That night on the ferry, Eddy and I decided to dine out on the ship. Even if a bit pricey, after this incredibly cheap little holiday we felt we deserved a little indulging. Plus, this was my way poor-man’s way of paying back DFDS for this awesome opportunity that basically cost nothing.
A delicious steak and beer dinner on the ferry
While enjoying our steaks and fancy beers, I kept thinking of if and when will the day come that an experience like dining out on a ship won’t feel like indulging in a once in a lifetime financial expense. Will there ever be a time when I can just enjoy things without constantly looking at the costs? Maybe… Hopefully.
Hoisting up the Danish flag. We’re coming home!
The next morning, while we were back sailing in the calm Øresund strait towards Copenhagen, I was out on the deck looking out at the horizon, wondering what the future holds. Even with all the ups and downs of life, and constant financial difficulties, as long as the good stories and adventures kept flowing, life was pretty darn good and worthwhile.
Following my two-weeks adventure in Iceland in August 2016, I returned to Denmark. However, it wasn’t for long as I was planning another little trip. This time non-work related. During the time I had moved and settled in Denmark, one of my best friends from back in Romania, Daniel, had decided to move to Norway. The promised land, the land of an unforgettable adventure that started it all for both of us. Now that I was financially stable and settled into my new life, it was time to return to the far north and reunite the brotherhood!
Thus just a few weeks after my return from Iceland, I took a flight from Copenhagen to Trondheim to visit my best buddy in Norway.
Once more above the clouds
Back in Norway
I got to Trondheim pretty late at night. By the time Daniel picked me up and we got back to his place his then girlfriend was sleeping. As was most of the neighborhood. I remember we sat out on the porch during the cool Norwegian night drinking and chatting away while trying to keep our voices down.
We had a lot to catch up on since both of our lives had radically changed since last we met. However, no matter how much had changed, how much we’d change, we would always seamlessly pick up right where we left off.
After one and a half year, the Brotherhood reunites!
The next day was a Friday and Daniel had planned a little road trip for us over the weekend. After a lazy morning, he had to run some errands in the city so I tagged along and got my first brief view of Trondheim.
Driving around Trondheim, Norway
Around noon we drove over to the one of the University of Trondheim locations to pick up his girlfriend. As I was waiting, I remember admiring this casually parked submarine in the harbor right next to the building.
This is not the yellow submarine
Soon enough, we were all packed up and ready to hit the road for the weekend.
Jostedalsbreen National Park
For the rest of the day and well into the night we drove to the Jostedalsbreen National Park, mainland Europe’s largest glacier. We couldn’t see much of anything during our night drive, but the next morning we were treated to quite a spectacular view.
A cool, misty morning in Jostedalsbreen National Park
We woke up in the heart of the national park, somewhere in, or near Fjærland. It was like poetic justice that we started off our trip in the place that we were eyeing three years before, from across the fjords and mountains in Søgndal. I have to admit though, for the better part of this trip, I had no idea where we were. I was just marveling at our surroundings and enjoying the adventure.
Norwegian Glacier Museum in Fjærland
Our first stop of the day was the Norwegian Glacier Museum in Fjærland. The museum showcases the science of glaciology, the history of glaciers in Norway, and their role in climate change. It featured interactive exhibits, models, and presentations on the topic.
Glacier model at the Norwegian Glacier Museum
The museum also highlights the cultural significance of glaciers in Norway’s history and provides insight into the challenges and importance of preserving these natural wonders. But best of all, the museum had a big polar bear in the lobby area that I could high five!
Heck yeah!
Melkevoll Bretun
Following a scenic drive around and under the mountains, we ended up on the northern side of the glacier, at Melkevoll Bretun. Located near the Briksdal Glacier (Briksdalsbreen) in Stryn, Melkevoll Bretun offers stunning views of dramatic glacial landscapes. It was time for a little hike.
The trail to Briksdalsbreen glacial lake
A 3 km trail from Briksdal Mountain Lodge led all the way up to the Briksdalsbreen glacial lake. The winding gravel trail took us up the mountain through lush valleys surrounded by towering peaks and cascading waterfalls. On our way up we passed Kleivafossen waterfall, one of the major highlights of the the hike.
Kleivafossen waterfall spraying everyone that passed it by
Following the waterfall we passed by some cool glacial features in the outcropping rocks. Jettegryter, or the giant potholes formed naturally during the last Ice Age, when glacial meltwater carried rocks and debris that swirled in strong currents, grinding into the bedrock.
The giant potholes (Jettegryter) on the Briksdalsbreen trail
The polished, smooth wall of the rocks also revealed other neat features in these rocks that would excite any geology enthusiast.
Structural features in the rock layers, including displacement and boudinage
Of course a Norwegian hike wouldn’t be complete without encountering a pack of goats. Most of them were minding their own business, grazing around. But then there was this one goat perched up on a rock that was just staring down at us lowly humans like the king that he was.
Close encounter with the Goat King
Briksdalsbreen
Shortly after our encounter with the Goat King, we reached Briksdalsbreen glacial lake. A serene lake with a gorgeous view, Briksdalsbreen glacial lake continues to grow larger as the glacier gradually retreats over the decades.
Briksdalsbreen, an arm of the larger Jostedalsbreen ice cap
This was one of the best places to test out my newly acquired PENTAX digital camera. It wasn’t as fancy as a Canon, or Nikon, but its fixed lens had quite an impressive zoom for the time. The only problem was keeping the camera steady. I never invested in a tripod, so I had to always find just the right surface around to get my zoomed in shots.
Briksdalsbreen zoomed in
I ended up getting some really neat zoomed in shots of the glacier. One of them even captured distinctive cracks/crevasses in the blue ice.
Even more zoomed in action revealing cracks in the ice
Of course I couldn’t just ignore the jagged mountain peaks surrounding us. After a quick camera repositioning, I got some moody shots of the landscape as well.
Ice patches tucked away between the surrounding mountain ridges
Finally, Daniel ended up just in the right spot for a spaghetti western style shot!
The man, the viking, the legend, Dovahkiin Daniel
An epic sunset
After we finished our nature photoshoot at Briksdalsbreen, we slowly headed back to the parking lot. As we drove back towards our lodging, the clouds led up just enough to offer some amazing sunset views that just kept on getting better and better.
Sunlight just barely grazing the peaks of the mountains
Even Daniel was constantly staring into his mirrors while driving while we were “oo-ing” and “aa-ing” at the scenery. We ended up pulling over numerous times to get the best shots.
Jostedalsbreen in the distance
But it wasn’t until the apex of the setting sun that we were truly treated to some spectacular sights.
An epic Norwegian sunset
Nothing like a lake view of the burning red sky as the sun goes down behind the mountains and fjords. A perfect way to end a great day on the road. However, our adventures in Norway were not over yet. The story will continue in “The return to Norway part 2”.
The three things you wouldn’t normally expect to hear in the same sentence are warm, sunny, Iceland. Yet this pretty much sums up the entirety of our two week field trip to the north Atlantic island.
Just to briefly recap: my whole going to Iceland actually started with a late-2015 proposition from my soon to be MSc thesis supervisor, Paul Martin Holm, to do a project on Argentina. Then after the Argentina project ended up being a bust due to some financial miscalculations, Paul Martin was quick to offer me another possibility: the Iceland project.
Grass-covered basalt layers and volcanic edifices – a taste of what is to come
Thus, I was fortunate enough that in early August 2016, I was flying together with Paul Martin, on an all expense covered field trip to Iceland. As it turned out, that August would be one of the sunniest and warmest periods Iceland had had in quite some time. Fortune was truly in our favor!
Airport shenanigans
As I was on the metro heading towards the airport on the day of our trip, I suddenly got this nose bleed out of nowhere. Alright, no big deal. I thought, it should stop by the time I actually got the airport. Nope! It kept on going, no matter how much tissue paper I stuffed up in there. I don’t know if it was stress, or what, but this was really out of the ordinary for me…
Some time later, I meet up with Paul Martin in the airport. He’s there all cheerful and happy and here I come leaking blood all over the place. He started asking if I was alright, if I was good for the trip. I was more annoyed than anything else because I couldn’t stop the nostril faucet and enjoy our upcoming trip. Too much excitement?
Oh, and someone had lost their balloon in Kastrup Airport… Tragic!
So we end up talking to airport staff who connects us to a medical person they had on the line. We ask the person on the line weather it’s safe for me to get on the plane with my stupid nose bleed. The person gave me the all clear and finally, by the time we get to security, the bloody leaking stopped. We were off to a “fantastic” start, I said to Paul Martin…
Arrival
Luckily the flight was fairly uneventful and once we were above Iceland we got to have a decent areal view of the fantastic landscape below.
Flying above the volcanic chains of Iceland for the first time in 2016
As I recall we spent quite some time at either, or both the airport and the car rental agency. There was all sort of paperwork for Paul to fill out and waiting around for other people.
One thing with Iceland is that they are, or were, very rigorous about what goes out of the country. Especially when it comes to rocks. The country doesn’t want tourists to be taking rocks from their National Parks away as souvenirs. Since we were on a geological research project and it was kind of our business to take rocks away, there were all sorts of forms to sign and people to notify.
Then the car rental people were slow with delivering our car. Just as a heads up, Iceland is an extremely expensive country and renting cars is no exception. So Paul went with the cheapest agency he could find that rented out SUV’s. Finally, after a few hours, we had our Toyota Landcruiser and were heading to our hotel in Reykjavik.
Exploring Reykjavik
I had the rest of the afternoon off and was planning to meet up with my Icelandic friend Bjørn from Denmark, who was back home in Reykjavik.
Beautiful, Sunny Reykjavik
The weather was fantastic. Slightly breezy, but sunny and warm. Nothing like what Bjørn had described to me with his doom and gloom build-up to my trip. The moment I meet up with him he was upset. He was angrily exclaiming that this isn’t fair! I’m not seeing the real Iceland. It’s supposed to be cold, rainy and super windy, always! Well… Not when I’m there, I said to him laughing out loud.
Bjørn then took me around the main attractions of central Reykjavik. We started off with the iconic Hallgrimskirkja, a towering 74.5 m high church that stands as one of the tallest structures in the country. It’s unique exterior design resembles that of columnar basalts found in various parts of the country, as well as other volcanic regions around the world. In front of the church is a statue of Leif Eriksson, the famous Viking explorer thought to have been the first European to reach North America.
Hallgrimskirkja with the statue of Leif Eriksson in the front
Harbor area
From Hallgrimskirkja we walked around the small center briefly touring the University of Iceland’s campus. Afterwards we headed towards the Harpa Concert Hall and the harbor area. Here ran across Minør, a small preserved steam locomotive. Part of the short-lived Icelandic narrow-gauge railway, it was used in the early 20th century in constructing the Reykjavik harbor.
Minør the steam locomotive
Finally, we went over to Bjørn’s place, which was close to the harbor. Everything just seemed close in Reykjavik, one of the smallest and neatest capitals in the world. After meeting part of Bjørn’s family, we headed up to a rooftop terrace where a splendid city view welcomed us. We proceeded to enjoy a couple of cool drinks and soak in the warm rays of sunny Iceland.
Having a beer with Bjørn in Reykjavik
From student to colleague
In the evening, I met up with Paul Martin and we went out to a restaurant of his choosing to have dinner. This would be one of the last day we had a high quality cooked meal, as for the next two weeks we’d be traveling across Iceland and eating mostly canned foods and sandwiches.
Paul asked me if I’d like to share a bottle of wine with him. Seeing the extravagant prices around me, I sheepishly replied that I would, but considering the rule we had in our Gran Canaria field trip that students pay for their alcohol, I was reluctant to pay the hefty sum out of my barely recovering pockets. The man smiled and replied, but you are not a student here anymore, you are my colleague, so that rule doesn’t apply. I loved this guy! He always knew how to brighten my mood. We continued on to have a wonderful dinner with drinks and jolly banter.
The next morning, we packed up the Landcruiser and drove all day north to Akureyri.
The long drive north to Akureyri and the start of our Iceland adventure
The months following the decision to move to Denmark were filled with elation and renewed excitement. Finally, after what felt like a lifetime of failed attempts, I was going to leave my birth country behind for good. It was now time to go out there and find my place in the world. A place I could one day call home.
The final north-Transylvanian adventure
During the spring of my last year in Romania, my good buddy Daniel and I planned a little road trip across Maramureș County. He and his girlfriend at the time came over to visit a couple of monasteries and take a steam train ride along the Vaser Valley. For me, going on one last Transylvanian adventure with my best friend was a fitting way to part ways with my past.
The trip took a little over two hours by car from my hometown of Baia Mare. On the way we made a stop in the town of Săpânța to visit the Merry Cemetery (Cimitirul Vesel), famous for its brightly colored tombstones with paintings and poetic descriptions of the past lives of its residents.
A sea of color at the Merry Cemetery, Săpânța (2015)
Northeastern Maramureș
Late in the afternoon, we arrived at Vișeu de Sus where we would spend the night in the Mocănița train yard. The train yard has multiple parked train cars with sleeping compartments. These compartments are rented out to visitors staying the night and have all the necessary amenities of a hotel room.
The over-night train cars in the the Mocăniță train yard
There are several picnic tables next to the train cars to enjoy an outdoor evening dinner and breakfast. There’s also a couple of old refurbished locomotives on display that you can view and explore.
Big old steam-powered locomotive on display
The next day we briefly visited the Bârsana Monastery to the south. Home to the tallest wooden church in Romania, Bârsana Monastery is situated in the centuries old settlement of Bârsana, dating back to the 1300’s.
Bârsana Monastery, 2015
The outside courtyard has many walkways across the Monetary gardens and boasts a couple of beautiful peacocks. The wooden buildings are decorated with wooden carvings and religious iconography.
Peacock at Bârsana Monastery
In the afternoon, Daniel and I took a little road trip to the city of Borșa situated at the foothills of the Rodna Mountains. As we saw the mighty snow capped mountain peaks in the distance, we felt them calling to us. Teasing us, daring us to attempt a little adventurous hike. We couldn’t refuse, however, after a short half an hour walk up the slope, a wet chilly breeze coming down from the mountain reminded us of our past reckless experience in the Făgărăș Mountains. So we decided to play it safe this time around and returned to the safety and comfort of our train yard in Vișeu de Sus.
Mocănița
The following morning our little steam powered train was all ready to take us up the Vaser Valley.
Grumpy morning face
Mocănița, which roughly translates to the little shepherd is a narrow-gauge railway built around the mid 1930’s. The railway is serviced by several steam engines two of which were built in Germany in the early 1900’s.
Chugging along
Partially destroyed during World War II, the railway was later rebuilt and mainly used for logging until 2004 when work began on turning it into a tourist attraction. The 47 km main line runs from Vișeu de Sus to Comanu near the border with Ukraine. However, the service usually terminates at Faina station due to ongoing rehabilitation work on the line.
Our steam powered locomotive
The train made a few stops on the way for fueling, or repositioning. The trip took a few hours both ways and crossed the exceptionally scenic Vaser Valley home to a variety of wildlife, including brown bears and deer.
Along the Vaser Valley
As the trip progressed, the valley became increasingly narrower, with the rolling hills turning into steep mountain cliffs flanking both sides of the track.
She’s getting pretty tight
Around noon, we arrived at Faina station in the heart of the Maramureș Mountains Natural Park. After having a quick snack, we spent the afternoon roaming around the gorgeous landscape before heading back to Vișeu de Sus in the evening.
In the heart of the Maramureș Mountains Natural Park
We spent the final night drinking and laughing, reminiscing and goofing around the train yard. I couldn’t have asked for a nicer farewell and ending to this first big chapter of my life.
Beyond the threshold
As my departure date came close, I recall a now familiar feeling I then felt for the first time. It’s hard to describe this feeling, but to me it’s like a “life threshold”, a point beyond which you can’t see anymore.
Perhaps it was the fairly repetitive nature of my life up to that point that made things fairly predictable. Being in the same places around the same kind of people, there’s always a type of familiarity in your life. I always yearned for more. To explore new places, meet different kind of people and experience new things. This is why I loved traveling so much, especially aboard, since this opened up a whole new world for me. Even so, as exciting and memorable as each of my travels was, they were just that. Short episodes in an ocean of fairly mundane, predictable days and weeks.
However, this time it wouldn’t be a short episode. It would be a complete overhaul of my day to day life. Everything would change. I simply could not imagine what my future looked like after moving away from Romania. I couldn’t see beyond the threshold, but I had a gut feeling that it’ll all be ok. Thus, there was no fear, no anxiety, just a calming inner peace and a trust in myself that I’ll figure it out. I was ready to embark on a new journey and begin my Odyssey from East to West.
One final look back before departing on the train of life in search of a new home
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
