Tag Archives: Voss

Norway Journal, Final Installment, Day 13

June 24: Reporting from Gardermoen Airport in Oslo, where I am spending more of my life than I ever wished. It’s been a long day, and I’m only about half-way through.

I got up, not too early, and Trygve asked me if I wanted to see some more sights before I left. Why not? He took me to various places. We saw the Utne Hotel in Utne (which has no connection to his family, though he is related to the people who built the Ullensvang Hotel).

He took me to a fascinating place I’d never heard of (that I remembered). It’s Agatunet, the only partially preserved medieval klyngtun in Norway (if I remember correctly). A klyngtun was what I described the other day, where all the neighbors on various parcels on a farm lived clustered together in something like a village. One part of the tun’s main building, the Lagmandshus, was bujlt in 1221 according to dendrochronology. It was the home of Sven Bjorgulfsson Aga, a lawspeaker who was mysteriously murdered a little later and found beheaded across the fjord. Never solved. Otherwise, Agatun is a rare surviving klyngtun even without the medieval building.

The dark-colored end of this building is the surviving part of the 13th Century Lawman’s house in Agatunet.
Genuine 13th Century wooden wall.
Original carvings in the wood.
Inside the courtroom.
The other side of the building. Less interesting, but the light was better on this side.

We drove up to Voss, stopping for a few more photo opportunities…

Voss, I think.

…and had lunch in Voss. Biffsnirper, an unusual Norwegian dish consisting of shredded tags of beef which you dip in a sauce. Served with French fries and a salad. I quite liked it. Not sure what the sauce was.

Biffsnirper.

Finally we went to the bus station and figured out what I was supposed to do with my suitcase (keep it with me) and where to get on the train. Trygve and I said goodbye. He really delivered a tremendous visit, especially considering how I jerked him around about the dates. It seemed to mean a lot to him that, after 16 years, he’d been able to keep his promise to take me to Svelland farm. It meant a lot to me, too.

The Bergensbanen is considered one of the most beautiful train rides in the world. It takes something over seven hours, and crosses the Hardangervidda plateau and stops at various localities headed for Oslo. I arrived some time after 10:00 p.m.

I’d been told that there were buses to the airport right there, and that I could just ask someone where to find them. In fact, I spent about an hour and a half wandering through the railway station, across the footbridge to the bus station, and back. Almost nobody was working at that hour. I saw no security officers. The people I worked up my nerve to ask knew nothing.

Finally I decided to just take the airport train, which was clearly signed and for which buying a ticket was easy. The track was easy to find too. So that’s how I got to the airport, a little after midnight.

Since then I’ve been vegetating here at the airport. If I had any class I’d have gotten a room at a motel and slept decently, but I nodded in a chair, reading when I couldn’t sleep (which was most of the time). I was waiting for instructions to appear on the big board to tell me where to check in. Finally I stopped checking (didn’t want to lose my seat) and arbitrarily chose 9:00 a.m. as the time I’d check again. The desk number was up by then. I proceeded down to desk 2, where there was a very, very long line doing that switchback, stay-between-the-ropes Disney thing. I assume they were understaffed due to the strike. I got my boarding pass at last, went through security, and got over to the gate side, where I now sit recharging my cell phone and waiting for the time to come to go to the gate. Many challenges lie ahead.

Final note: Challenges indeed. The flight to Reykjavik was packed and uncomfortable. I asked about Lost & Found at the airport, to see if I could get back the Amazon Fire I lost. They told me it had to be done online. The check-in line was long again, but the flight to New York was only about half full, and thus comfortable. At JFK customs took forever, and then security took forever and ever, amen. I ended up missing my connection, spent a night in a cheap hotel in Jamaica, NY, got onto a (delayed) flight to Minneapolis on standby, and finally arrived after 10:00 p.m.

I refuse to think about all that. My trip to Norway was, considered in itself, a wonderful experience and could hardly have gone better. Many thanks to all the friends and family who went to such trouble to make it such a good time for me.

Norway Journal, Day 12

June 22: A day of disaster that ended better than I feared. “The thing that I have greatly feared has come upon me,” as it says in Job. I’d worried that this trip was going too well, and today I discovered a serious problem – all of my own making.

Yesterday I told Trygve that I needed to take time to fill out some US Customs re-entry forms (turned out they didn’t apply to me after all) and book my tickets for my bus trip to Oslo Friday. I chose a bus to ride, started the checkout, and came up against a problem I’ve encountered before and should have remembered. I can’t buy anything online with a credit card in this country. They want to text me a security number, but the cell phone tied to the card is my American one, which doesn’t work in Europe.

Then I realized that I’d made the same calendar mistake I made before with Trygve. First I told him I was coming Tuesday, and then (for some unknown reason) I bought a ticket for Monday. Now, I realized (to my horror) that my plane leaves Friday, not Saturday. So Thursday needs to be my travel day. That’s tomorrow.

I apologized profusely to Trygve, who seemed fairly sanguine, however. After trying a couple things, including a call to my credit card company, he said the best thing was to drive to Voss and buy a train ticket to Oslo there. This is the Bergensbanen, a famous rail line I’ve ridden before. We weren’t sure my card would work there either, but what choice did we have?

Statue of Knut Rockne in Voss. You can tell from the look on his face he thinks I’m a moron.

We drove to Voss (famous as the birthplace of Knut Rockne, and a beautiful place in its own right), and found a ticket machine in the entry hall – out of order. You can’t buy a ticket from an agent anymore. It’s all automated. Trygve led me up to the platform, and we found a machine there that did sell me a ticket. And my card worked.

Sigh.

Relieved, we did some driving around, doing some of the sightseeing Trygve had been planning but now will be prevented from doing. Three waterfalls, plus the Norwegian Nature Center in Eidfjord.

I forget what these falls are called. Voringfoss, maybe.
This one is called the Skjervsfossen. I could have gotten a better picture if I’d stepped closer to the edge of the observation platform, but I didn’t want to show off.

Up to the Hardangervidda plateau itself (at least the edge of it), where we looked at Sysenvatn, an artificial lake built for hydroelectricity and some other sights on the plateau.

Just a random, picturesque spot.

Then we drove back (it took a while). I was feeling better by now, though I still feel dumb. I think I ought to have my mental acuity checked by a doctor when I get home.

We went out again about an hour later to pick Trygve’s son Kjell up from dayschool. We then went to a few picturesque spots above the town to take pictures. It really is quite dramatic. I think I’m going into Sublimity Shock. I need the Midwest to get my blood sugar level back down.

Tomorrow we may do some more sightseeing before my train leaves, but we need to give ourselves time to get to the station, because those narrow mountain roads are prone to long traffic delays.