June 20: Up, fed, and generally on time for my trip to Ullandsvang via Hardanger. Caught the Kystbussen (Coastal Bus) at 7:45 or so, and it took me by way of several tunnels and a ferry ride. Tore was waiting for me at Haugesund, and we set out north in his car.
Change in plan, not for today, but for my ride home. Tore said the strike was spreading at the Oslo airport, and he believed the best thing for me to do, to avoid missing my plane, was to take the Haukeli Express bus on Friday. Easy to get a bus from the bus station to the airport, he says. I’ll go with his advice. I rely on the kindness of new acquaintances. Also, I’ve ridden the Haukeli Express before, and liked it very much.
We were met at the town of Etne by Trygve’s uncle, Knut. Knut knows a lot about local history, and filled the time before Trygve got off work by showing me several local sites.
One was Stødle Church, on the site of the farm of Erling Skakke.
I’ve written about Erling Skakke (1115-1179) before in this journal. This was not my Erling (Skjalgsson), but another nobleman, even more powerful in his prime. He participated in a Crusade along with Ragnvald Kali Kolsson, Earl of Orkney (whose poems I reviewed on this blog once upon a time). During a sea battle in the Mediterranean, he took a wound in the neck. It healed up, but the muscles tightened on that side, so that he always held his head crooked thereafter (“skakke” means tilted). He married Kristin Sigurdsdatter, daughter of King Sigurd the Crusader.
When there was a temporary dearth of viable candidates to inherit the throne of Norway, Erling worked a deal with the church to get his son Magnus crowned, on the strength of his being a king’s grandson. This violated the law, which said that inheritance went through the male line. So there was resistance to the innovation, and new claimants appeared, and this launched Norway’s Age of Civil War, a long and bloody time. Erling was regent during Magnus’ minority, and remained powerful up until the time when both of them died in battle against the Birkebeiners (Birchlegs).
Uncle Knut obtained a key at the hotel to get inside the church. The interior is what I believe to be simple Romanesque, with a small chancel, and a tiny chapel at the very end. This small chapel, I am told, was probably built by Erling himself in the 12th Century.
The portions built later are decorated with naïve images of the gospel writers (as I recall), and also of the five foolish virgins. These paintings were apparently uncovered during the last restoration of the church. There is also a hogback gravestone outside the church wall, which reminded me of English ones. A Viking Age style.
There was also Grindheim church, which features a genuine rune stone set up against one wall (its inscription pretty much unreadable today, alas), and a fascinating stone cross. This one has had its capital knocked off, but has a notable feature – there’s a hole through the junction of the arms. This is reminiscent of Irish crosses, and suggests an Irish influence
He took me to his home, where his wife Valborg made a delicious lunch. Then they both took me out to a nearby nature area for a walk through the woods. As we were about to leave we met a couple they knew coming in. They told us someone else from America had recently been through, asking about Vika farm (one of my ancestral places).
Then back to the house for dessert. By now we were all great friends. Trygve showed up, had some dessert himself, and then we took pictures all around and headed further into the Etne region, and on to Hardanger.
I’m already forgetting all the places we saw. As I mentioned before, Etne is a remarkably beautiful place, and Hardanger is the same but more dramatic. Trygve showed me the places where his family had lived in the past. He showed me the farm where my brother’s wife’s family came from.
He showed me a place to get a better picture of the Langfoss waterfall, which is indeed quite long.
Also the Låtefossen, a magnificent double falls.
Kyrping, a picturesque cove at the edge of the Åkrafjord, home of Kyrping-Orm, father of Erling Skakke.
Nearby was the bronze plate in the mountainside dedicated to honor the journalist Eric Severeid, whose family came from Severeid farm. We stopped for ice cream at a place where Trygve likes to shop. We drove over to Hardanger (avoiding a tunnel at one point for a more dramatic ride), which I still consider insanely beautiful.
Kind of like a real-world rollercoaster, where falling off the world is a serious possibility. I was amazed at farms and homes where the driveways run upward at more than a 45⁰ angle. And in the end we drove up a similar driveway ourselves, to reach Trygve’s home.
