To the Fjords of Norway… Part I

Pt.1

On the 12th of June, 2009, I have set out on an adventure that flies in the face of a typical approach to everyday life. In a matter of a morning and only three hours after I purchased my train tickets, I was on my first train, on my voyage to Norge. In my haste to pack for living self-sufficiently for six days and planning out my 5-star menu I would be lovingly prepare for myself, I anticipated missing out on a few items that I would deem as comforts. Only 7 km from Holsby, my mind exclaimed as my bowels moved… “Toilet Paper!!” truly an item of comfort, not necessity. And as this first item alarmed my senses, others surely followed: the toothbrush and toothpaste, a cup from which to drink, hand sanitizer, hot sauce, and the all-too-important garlic.

Looking forward to the next few days of solitude, my train from Nässjö is ready to depart. A cute girl to my right is watching Friends, Season 5, and I am reminded of those back home in the states through this mere observation. There are no doubts that I will be reminded of those whom I love back home…

I arrived in Oslo, Norway, around 11 pm last Friday evening, upon my first step outside of Oslo’s Central Station, I found myself in the midst of a local drug market being asked if I wanted anything from hash to cocaine by a variety and multitude of people; thus I received my first impression of both Oslo and Norway (later I’d find out that neither were anything to build a foundation on). I spent a few hours walking around the downtown area as a tourist, mainly observing the night life and its effects on its participants. My original plan for the evening was to find rest in the train station, but upon my arrival back to the station at 12:45 am, I shortly found myself courteously displaced by the stations security system named Thorbjorn. Coincidentally (and slightly weird) I earlier had thought to myself, “If I were to sleep underneath the stars within the walls of Oslo, here would be a great spot.” So upon the onset of my homelessness, I left the station a second time, only this time the “market” had closed and there was a man only meters to my left shooting up… an unsettling exit on to the streets of Oslo. And so I departed to a harbor area that had a garden of fountains and a solid two dozen park benches. I would find out this place was the common WC for the late night revelers and consequently found myself quite restless through the evening.

The train station opened back up around 4:30 am and as soon as that time drew near, I headed back inside Oslo Central to lay down on a bench for the next two hours before my train departed for Myrdal, some 5 hrs north of Oslo (about 2 hrs NE of Bergen). This train ride was probably one of the most beautiful trips I have ever been on as we went from sea level in Oslo to around 1500 meters and went through vast glaciers and through steep canyons that make up most of the fjord region. I arrived at Myrdal station around lunch, still not knowing what my next four days would hold. After some quick chats with the tourist information lady and a lady behind the café’s register, I set out to go from Myrdal to Flåm via foot without any real concepts of what lay before me or the places to end up making camp(s).

And so the hike began with a sharp descent of nearly 500 meters vertical, over an overall distance of less than 1.5 km as water falls displayed their glory on my right and my left from the melting snow which would follow me down in a torrent filled river that where Flåm meets fjord. Flåmsdalen would be my closest friend over the coming days. As I began the hike, I quickly realized I would have a thorn in my flesh for the rest of my tenure in Norway; in a rash and haste-filled decision, I opted for boots I have only worn a few times hiking, the result turned out to not be callouses (thankfully) but of sensitive-inner-ankles. This sounds odd, but the boots were designed for mountaineering (that which i inevitably did not do this trip) and where the boot-meets-"flesh" (sock); I'm not quite sure how it resulted, but I know the result all too well, that of tender-to-the-touch ankles which makes walking slightly difficult; nej, just not as comfortable. With this came both good and bad. Bad=discomfort and because of this I didn't feel the freedom to explore and trek as much as I had "hoped". Good = I had to slow down, in this came opportunity for thought, peace, and added flexibility; coincidentally it also directed much of my thought to the Lord, a most appreciated focus brought about in another way than I had anticipated. Isn't it strange how He uses the most unlikely of circumstance to draw us or remind us of His love towards us....