Høstferie Dag 3

This morning we woke up to- yes, you guessed it- more rain. But it wasn't enough to dampen our spirits. Olof, Ivar, and I suited up in Goretex and took to the mountains. There's a tramway in Bergen which has become a fairly popular attraction. From my online searching and planning, I had in mind to take this up the mountain. It turned out, however, that this would be a fairly pointless endeavour, as our lodgings were already located over halfway up the mountain. We hiked up the hill, against the wind, and into the rain, but it was well worth the sweat. At the top we took in a cloudy and rainy panorama of Bergin, which, considering the weather, was still quite impressive.

We took the tram down and then walked around the famous Bryggen wharf. Unfortunately, it is Sunday, so even if hadn’t been for the weather, we wouldn’t have seen much of the Fish Market anyways. Nonetheless, it was interesting to wander about the back alleys and into a few of the shops that were open. We hit up the Hanseatic Museum after lunch. The most interesting aspect was the building itself, erected after a fire in 1702.
Of course, we couldn’t miss the Chelsea-Arsenal match, so we watched it on the big screen at The Scotsman. Two great goals made for a Chelsea victory, but not without consistent cheering throughout the game.
It was a good day, and time was well spent with friends. Nothing like Norwegian pizza to top it off, a long walk up through a maze of streets to the house, and a good LAN party (computer social gathering) to end the night.

Høstferie Dag 2

Although the rain continued into the night yesterday, it didn't get too cold and we slept quite well. This morning, a healthy portion of "havre grun" (oatmeal) provided us with enough energy for the seven hour bus ride which still lay ahead of us.
Upon reaching Bergen, a friend from school, Ivar, kindly picked us up and brought us to his brother's place.
As a student, he has a nice place with an amazing view overlooking most of Bergen, but there isn't too much extra floor space as his family is here visiting. Our plan had been to tent in his yard, but if you know anything about western Norway, you won't be surprised to hear that the rain is pouring and the wind blowing. We've decided to take advantage of an offer to make space on the laundry room floor.
It's amazing how many people you meet and how many connections you make. We took the bus across the city (with the help of more than one friendly local) to a get together at another friends place for the evening.
A long day, but we got to Bergen!

Høstferie Dag 1

The holidays have started and Olof and I are Bergen bound.
The trip has gotten off to an epic start. In a rush to catch the bus, we speed walked the four or five kilometres to the station, arriving as the bus pulled in. With five minutes to contemplate hitch-hiking one last time, we found our selves a little bit stressed. The price of the bus ticket was a deal breaker.
We had been told that hitch-hiking in Norway was quite difficult. We learned this lesson the slow way. After over three hours on the side of the highway, and various unsuccessful conversations with sixty year old Norwegians, it was time to give up. With an estimated 20 kilometres under our feet, and an equally excessive number of kilograms on our backs, we were ready to pack it in. Oh, and did I mention it was raining? We pitched the tent in the Fagernes park after some futile campsite searching which succeeded only in tiring us further.
I must be honest and admit that it was quite a frustrating day. However, in hindsight, I am glad we made the attempt. We have gained useful hitch-hiking experience which I hope to never require again, and if nothing else, we have built some character and patience.
The evening went much more smoothly and the atmosphere gradually became more relaxed. We treated ourselves to some much deserved primus grilled salmon and powder style potatoes.
Tomorrow we will take the bus.

Km to Bergen: 341

These are My Favourite Times

Sun. Rain. Snow. We got it all, but the riding trip last week was a good time nonetheless. By the second night, there was hardly a dry square inch of ground to be found anywhere and only by roasting wet gloves over the fire could you make it through the next day. The horses were very good; Ronja treated me quite well. She was happy to follow the crowd but when it came to my personal instructions, she was not always so cooperative (this may have been due to my inadequate equestrian ability: a statement supported by events yet to be described). However, she rarely strayed from the path. Judging by the proximity of her face and the preceding horse’s ass, it was almost as if she were following her nose. She seemed quite content with the view in the picture to the right, and quite unbothered by the smell which followed a variety of interesting sounds.
We did an out and back trip on the second day, up into the hills overlooking Beitostolen. Grilled pulsar and hot chocolate provided brief relief from the cold during a stop for lunch (also the only part of the ride where you can sit comfortably). When the horses are walking its fairly enjoyable and sometimes even a little relaxed, but I’m afraid I have failed to acquire the proper technique needed for trotting. That is bumpy ride. Ronja was the smallest horse on the trip, which meant when the others walked, Ronja had to trot. And when the others trotted, Ronya had to gallop. On one of these occasions, while holding on for dear life as my four-legged companion galloped amid fall-coloured leaves and pristine mountain lakes (which I was unable to appreciate), I began to notice my saddle sliding to the left side, and then the right side. Naturally, I wrenched it back to where it was supposed to be. I over-corrected. With all of the geitost I’ve been eating, I could only hold on to a galloping horse by its neck for so long.
I did live through it, but I think my ego is still out there somewhere, tangled up in a bush on the side of the path.

 

This week’s paddling excursion was the most relaxing of its kind. The weather couldn’t have been more perfect. Not a cloud to be seen, not a breeze to be heard. The paddling took a nice relaxed pace, as many canoes followed a consistent zig-zag pattern, which meant it was easy to keep up. The trip consisted mainly of quiet paddling through quiet waters, but when the night set in, it was a different story. The guitar and song books came out as soon as Magnus (our teacher) went to bed (although he did stay up long enough to demonstrate that a few years at music school makes a nylon-stringed guitar sound a whole lot better). As long as you promise that the following information does not leave this blog, I will also disclose that in two days of camping, I have started my first, and nearly finished my last, knitting project. The girls were quite impressed, actually, but I did require their expertise on more than one occasion when something inexplicably went horribly wrong with my toque. Again, I must stress that this an isolated incident, and that it is best kept secret. In order to ensure that I maintain a manly reputation, I organised this photo opp.
Sometimes, it’s good to take the paths less traveled, and sometimes it   happens anyways (on the map there was a creek here).

In between trips, I have continued with regular mountain biking trips, climbing, and soccer matches (of which I seem to have somehow become the unofficial organiser?). These are some of my favourite times here. I have ridden enough here now that I know most of the trails. I like to ride my favourite singletrack, but there’s always more to discover and its interesting to ride aimlessly down old logging roads, hoping to find a new favourite trail.

These are my favourite times. Times when the trail unnoticeably peters out, but you keep going out of hope that it gets better. Times when your blisters are from belaying and not climbing, but your partner makes it to the top. Times when your sleeping bag is covered in frost, but its warm inside. Times when your hands are frozen to the paddle, but the lake’s so clear you can’t tell what’s a reflection and what's not. Times when your legs are too tired to go on, but the view at the top keeps you going. These are my favourite times.

As a blogger, there are certain rules which I feel inclined to obey. One of these is transparency. In one of my prior posts, there is a picture which I feel does not honestly portray the reality of my overseas experience. I am happy to present to you now, a new photograph, which will hopefully convey my way of life more accurately.

And proud of it!

Top of the World

We spent a fair amount of time in the kitchen this week drying edibles and preparing food for upcoming trips. I can’t say these times we’re highlights, but when we did get away from the ovens, we made it worthwhile! One day consisted of a trip to Jotenheim, Olof and I, being the foreign students, were unclear as to whether we were hiking, canoeing, or biking. As it turned out, we were mountain biking and filming. Conditions were perfect: a recent fall of light snow, standing water everywhere, and the temperature, barely above freezing. This did not suit Olof, who, unaware that we were traveling to Jotenheim, had come prepared for a much milder trip “just across the lake”. The filming started off slowly, with five of us “biking towards the camera in a nice straight line”. This lasted until we got halfway through a swamp, into which, all five of us fell. Once we started biking, though, the extremities started to thaw and good humours returned.

Climbing in my spare time with Helge and Tor Olav.

The zoom on my camera was not sufficient to capture the reindeer at the base of the mountain, but you may be able to make out a faint dark line in the middle of the picture. They were being herded by numerous helicopters. I am told that they are privately owned and that twice a year, over 7000 caribou are rounded up for butchery.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There is a grocery chain here which guarantees that none of its products will be past date. If they are, you can get them for free, and if they can’t replace the product, they actually have to pay you money. We “purchased” a few kilos of ready-to-cook salmon the other day, not that we don’t get enough fish around here… It makes a very nice midnight snack.

Norge er Fantastisk!

I have finally dragged myself from the common room where I sat fascinated by 30 or 40 knitting needles clicking and moving methodically. Such is the Norwegian way of life.
Last week, we did a one day hiking trip to Bessegen. The first couple of hours were along a nice mountain lake. Fed from each side by high ridges, the west end of the lake is damned only by a small land bridge. We hiked along the shoreline of the lake to the right, and, it was only when we finally reached the end of the lake that we discovered the second, stunning panorama of pristine, blue water hidden by the narrow stretch of rock damming the end of the lake. It was the most beautiful hike I have ever experienced, not only because of the scenery, but because such an amazing view came so suddenly. I was not expecting it at all.
To crest the ridge in the middle of the photograph, and look out over a 200m cliff at the above landscape was breathtaking.

I took the picture  to the left on the same trip in Jotenheim. I like to call it Crossing Paths. The one on the right was taken during a mountain biking excursion with my Dutch friend, Olof. It`s called Gaffel, Norwegian for fork. National Geographic and Time are still bidding.

Saturday`s trek through the hills was quite interesting. A particular tree along the trail is missing a few branches, and the boys took a bit of a beating, but Olof and I had a good time. That was the second fall. A half hour bike ride uphill along the road, a few geitost sandwiches while enjoying a view of Liera, and a very technical hiking path back down to the school made for a good afternoon.

The most exciting trip so far, though, was in Jostedalsbreen National Park, on the Nigardsbreen arm of the glacier. The five hour drive was well worth it for three days of glacier walking and climbing. Fully equipped with crampons, ice axes, harnesses and ropes, we saw a fair amount of the glacier. Whether stuck down a crevice for 35 minutes during a practice rescue (my team was not very fast the first time), or top-roping a 12 metre face of vertical ice, it was a good time.

You should know that the above picture is upside down… Ya, I know, amazing. 
  

It was an amazing trip, but it was also nice to get `home` and have a hot   shower and a comfortable bed again.
The trips have kept me quite busy since my last blog so there isn`t too much new around the school. Each Saturday night, a different class is supposed to organize a social gathering. Last week, the golf class entertained us with a blind-date bingo and karaoke night! Random couples were selected for some unknown reason. I happened to be one of them. As it turned out, we were to be interviewed about matters concerning our date, in front of the rest of the school. I was first asked for my date`s name. Bad memory and worse pronunciation made my blind-date a last date… But like they say, there are lots of fish in the sea.
Snakkes.

Settling In

The routines are beginning to establish themselves. The potato and fish theory still stands. We even made mashed potatoes to go with our pulsar while camping last night! It is hard to believe that it has already been ten days but at the same time, there is a feeling that it has been a matter of weeks or even months. On the other hand, home is still in Canada. It is a new place, there are new things, and there are new friends. Even after ten days, Sindre and I have just discovered some pegs in our room for hanging coats. I also spent the first seven nights in my sleeping bag, and only got around to purchasing bedding on Monday. While I expect many surprises to come (haha), things are starting to feel a little bit more familiar.

We have just returned from a three day hike to the school cabin. As it turns out, it was only a two day hike, and weren’t staying in a cabin. Something must have been lost in translation. It was a good time in beautiful Norwegian wilderness, but the hiking paths have me impatiently awaiting the arrival of my mountain bike. I borrowed Nils’ bike the other day for a ride with my class.

 

 

As you can see, the scenery is striking. I am very lucky to be hiking and skiing here.

 

  

I have acquired a significant Norwegian vocabulary. Hiking the land of my forefathers seems to accelerate my ability to learn the language. To date, I can list over two hundred words. Understanding what they say though? With all of their dialects, they can hardly understand each other!

Bye for now.