Last Updated on May 9, 2023 by PowersToTravel
Disclaimer: This is part of a trip journal I wrote many years ago describing my first trip to Norway, with my parents, in 2001. So many tourist services have changed over the years, but I’m happy to report that the beauty has not. Don’t let the 2023 post date trick you into thinking the logistics are contemporary. Check out “Part 1” for full explanation and disclaimer.
Blue Skies in Reine – Sunday, June 10
What excitement the next day as we awoke to blue skies! We quickly packed up and headed back to Reine, to take pictures, then north back to Sakrisoy, Olinsoy and Hamnoy. The night before I had been happy to be wearing my ski-jacket. This day was a little warmer. The day was picture-perfect.
There were two disappointments at Reine. I had wanted to take the boat trip around the south of the island, by the Maelstrom to the Reksvika cave, where there are cave-paintings. It leaves in the evening, and you see the midnight sun from the west coat. Unfortunately, in the off season, which this was, the trip is only on Friday night, and we arrived in Reine on Friday night, tired and ready to sleep. Another major disappointment at Reine is that we didn’t have the weather to take the ferry up the fjord to Bunesfjord. There is an hour-and-a-half ferry trip up through the mountains to several towns which are not linked by any roads. The ferry only left at four in the afternoon. So, either we futz around for the entire day, seeing sights we had already seen, waiting for the boat trip, or we head north.
So, we traveled north, and put in our pocket some things to do the next time. We then turned off for the small village of Sund, tucked below a huge peak, surrounding a little harbor. We spent a long time there, with Mom and Dad checking out every possible photographic angle. I sat near a wharf and just toasted in the sun and serenity. As we readied to leave, bus after bus passed through; it was a warning of crowds to come and I am so glad we came the first week in June, and not later. I believe it must be much more crowded during the tourist season. As it was, we had, on the whole, beautiful weather, and saw the islands with just the inhabitants.
We passed several beautiful Norwegian bridges. The bridges are often one-lane, with a passing-place in the middle. They arch steeply up, then curve swoopingly down.
We took a side road south to Nusfjord, a tiny fishing village. If you stay in a rorbu there, you’re actually staying in the town, because one person or company owns the entire town, and it’s a rorbuer! There’s a general store, and a tavern and a silversmith. Dad was taking so long wandering where-ever he was, that Mom and I headed for the tavern. We asked if they had any food, and they had Eppelkake – Apple Pie! We ate the last two pieces, and considered it an afternoon well spent.
We continued north passed Flakstad again, and almost to the tunnel between Flakstadoya and Vestvagoy. There was a small road to a town called Myrland, which was said to have a beautiful beach. We traveled down the road, and found this tiny town. It did have a beautiful beach. I climbed down to the beach and rested on the large rocks in the sun and let the wind blow over me. Dad, on the other hand, saw a bird he wanted to photograph and followed it into a wet field, and got his pants all wet. I would have loved to have stayed longer, but it just seemed like there was so much to see that needed seeing before it rained again.
This next time, we did go through the tunnel. It seemed that it was easier to find accommodations on the southern islands. Near Leknes, there didn’t seem to be much, and I found Statle’s Rorbuer in the listing, and we headed there. About ten miles later down a back road, we arrived there. Now these were not ‘Authentic’ rorbuer; they were like motel cottages constructed at the sea. They were very nice, and came with bed-linens! Now, that’s one thing I won’t miss, having to make and re-make my bed every day, and having to clean the entire bathroom every morning as we leave. These cabins expect you to be staying the week, which we weren’t, and make you clean them when you leave, which we were constantly. We eventually got into quite a rhythm: Mom making and cleaning breakfast, Dad packing the car and sweeping, and Wendy scrubbing the bathroom.
Back to the account: We headed back into the Leknes for dinner, and found Leonardo’s. It looked like a small, friendly, family-type restaurant. Dad made the mistake of not asking to see the menu, and we were happily ensconced with our water and tea when we discovered it was an Expensive restaurant. There was little on the menu I was interested in eating. I settled on some fish, which when it came was accompanied by Kings Crab’s legs. My friends will know that the idea of cracking those legs and eating the innards is not attractive to me. However, I was so hungry and it was so expensive that I ate them. We resolved to check out the menu first, the next time.
We took a ride after dinner out to Vik and Utakleiv, where supposedly there were lovely beaches. We must have been spoiled by Flakstad and the southern islands, because the beaches looked hum-drum, and had no mountain views to accompany them. Back to the rorbu after another long day.
With our time-constraints, we missed out on Ballstad, a trip down a peninsula south of Leknes. Oh, well, another item saved for a future trip…
More rain in Borg and Svolvaer – Monday, June 11
The day dawned bleary-eyed, with drizzle and fog. We arrived back in Leknes, just in time for the 1-‘Time’ foto to be open. That’s the ‘One-Hour’ photo, and Mom had been wanting to develop her picture film from Reine, in order to make postcards. It seemed during that first week that she was so intent on writing thirty or so postcards, she must not have seen half the sights. I, on the other hand, wrote three postcards (one of which my co-worker Mike never even bothered to go the mail bin until I asked him to, 3 weeks later after my return). So, I was not constrained by postcard duty during the trip. Well, anyway, we dropped off Mom’s film and wandered around Leknes for an hour, which requires some imagination, since you can go from one end to the other, walking, in under five minutes. We must have been successful because I have no memory of it. (We must have spent the time in a grocery store.) We picked up Mom’s film and off we went.
We stopped at the side of the road for a picnic lunch. We had picked up a paper and saw that the dreary weather was to continue for the next several days, and that it would then clear when we were leaving, and that where we were going after the Lofotens, it would then be bad weather there. Not a good recipe. I had the bright idea, that we could take our return plane tickets, which we had had to buy, but did not plan to use, since we would drive south, and we could fly south, so as to get to the good weather quickly. We rapidly re-assessed our entire itinerary and looked for quick ways off the island, so we could get to Bodo the next morning. We were in full-replan mode, when I discovered that the flight was not the next day, but that very same day and we had already missed the flight. Oh, well, I guess we’re just stuck with whatever we get… And we were to later find out, that no weather forecast in Norway is ever accurate.
We visited the Viking Museum in Borg. While I am not a Museum-goer at heart, this was a real high point of the trip. About four years ago, a farmer had dug up a pot during his plowing. He had brought it to the local historian who said it dated from Viking times and was a real find. Eventually they excavated and found the largest known Viking Hall. It was apparently the Chieftain Hall of a Viking from the 8th or 9th century who had immigrated to Iceland, taking down the wooden structure, and transporting it and his goods and family and livestock to Iceland. They have constructed, next to the excavation, a replica of the Viking Hall. The Hall had a living area, and a ceremonial area.
There was an interpreter there, who gave the tour in English. She talked a lot about the role of women in Viking culture. But like so many of the Norwegian tourist efforts, it didn’t go far enough. In the museum section, the labels on all the artifacts were only in Norwegian. There would be a blerb in English and that was it. My Berlitz didn’t extend to Viking war implements or pots.
Then we hiked down a long hill to a replica of a Viking longboat, at the cove.
On the way back, of course, it started to drizzle.
By going to the Viking Museum meant we had taken the inland route to the next island, Austvagoy. The guide book said it was a long fertile valley, and in the fog and rain, it was simply a long boring fertile valley. There were supposedly some great beaches at Eggum, however when the turnoff came, we just drove on. Another unknown place to put in our pocket for next time.
Soon after crossing over to Austvagoy, we stopped at another Artscape. This one we did find, and it was a big mirror, that showed the sea. It was done by an American, but I was not impressed. The weather started to slowly clear. We came to the turning at Henningsvaer, and Mom and Dad remembered it from their previous trip to Lofoten.
When they took the Hurtigruten trip, they had left the ship in Svolvaer and had taken a bus-ride through Austvagoy and down to Stamsund, where they had rejoined the ship. On that trip, they had taken the side trip to Henningsvaer and missed seeing the museum, because they had been so busy looking for pictures, they had gotten locked out. So, this trip they wanted to really see it. Henningsvaer is a beautiful fishing village, and has beautiful views to the south, to the large mountains we had left behind.
Once again, we saw a band of bright light which seemed to be advancing. We returned to the road and arrived in Svolvaer. This is a much bigger town than Stamsund; big enough to get a little lost in. The tourist center was closed, but my handi-dandi brochures gave us some accommodation information. We found one Sjohus (seahouse) that seemed to be in our price range. Well, it was a rooming house, with little bedrooms off of a central shared living area. Not my idea. So we asked them about other places and were directed to Svinoya. I knew from my brochures that Svinoya was a cut above our usual accommodations, but we were tired and not too confident about finding the right thing. This was just a town, but after having spent so many days in tiny villages, it seemed overwhelming.
We found Svinoya; it was expensive; they convinced us to at least take a look at it. It was located in an historic district, and the rorbuer were authentic. The other houses that weren’t rorbuer looked kind of like Lexington and Concord, at least old and well maintained. Well, naturally, once we were there, we decided to stay. Even though it was an old and authentic rorbu, it had Linens and Towels (such comfort!) and little fancy soaps.
We headed back to town for dinner, and after having splurged on accommodations, looked for the cafeteria we had seen earlier. Well, it was there, but closed. We could have made another dinner of canned spaghetti (Dad was kind of for that, since he was still stung from the Leonardo’s, only the night before). But Mom said, NO, she didn’t want to cook, so we asked at the grocery store (seems like we were never far from one) for an inexpensive restaurant. We were directed to a Chinese restaurant, in a hotel on the pier, known as ‘Skipperua’. Now, why a Chinese restaurant would be called Skipperua is beyond me. And I guess in keeping with the name, I didn’t order from the Chinese menu, but ordered an omelet. (It was also cheaper and I guess I was also stung by Leonardo’s and the Kings Crabs legs. I knew that a Omelet with Ost was an Omelet with Ost!).
While we ate, that band of light grew ever so much closer, and when we emerged, we had a beautiful evening ready for us. It seemed like days ago that we had awoken in Statles Rorbu and now we started what seemed like another day, heading north from Svolvaer, towards the sun.
We passed Hammerstad Camping, where we had wanted to stay, but it being so late had been unwilling to drive so far out of town. It was a good thing, because they were full up. But provided us with a beautiful view across the fjord.
We found a pullout and picnic area near a large hill, which when we climbed it, found ourselves with a beautiful panoramic view of the fjord. The weather was fresh but not cold, and we spent a long time on that hill. The mountains opposite were still streaked with snow, and even the mountains on the mainland were visible. I spent the time absorbing the experience. Mom and Dad wandered from place to place to get the best shot. I feel like I was the winner, because I relaxed and absorbed, and still had the benefit of their slides shows upon our return. They, on the other hand, worked during their vacation.
We headed towards Fiskebol, the final town on the Lofotens. A ferry from Fiskebol (say that four times fast) takes you to the Vesteralen Islands. We hadn’t expected to get this far, but had made the decision over dinner that we would stay an extra day, considering the brightness of the sky, and hoped for one last good day before heading south. So, we headed towards Fiskebol, wondering how quaint that village would be. All of a sudden we were on the ferry quay, almost in line for the ferry! What happened to the town? There was no town. The road just dead-ended at the ferry. We neatly turned around, and headed east from Fiskebol. There was supposedly a road that looped east, heading back to Svolvaer. We certainly weren’t going to take a questionable road back, at this hour (being 11 pm at night), however there were promises of views north to the Vesteralens.
So, once again, we stopped by the side of the road, and clambered down to the rocks. While Dad scrambled on the rocks, I headed to the left, and discovered a beautiful beach. I think this was the second really high point of the trip, sitting at the beach at 11:15 at night, in full sunshine, while the ferry crossed the strait. Mom joined me and we dared each other to take off our shoes and socks and wade in the Artic water. We did. It was not terribly cold. Warm enough to wade for a while (say that four times fast).
We missed the midnight sun by ½ hour, but by that time, it seemed like a meaningless notch; the strange path of the sun throughout the day as it circled the sky instead of crossing it, the constant sunshine and simultaneous sunrise and sunset were evidence enough we weren’t in Kansas anymore.
The day finally ended with a very short sleep.
‘Round in Circles: Kalle, Henningsvaer, Fiskebol – Tuesday, June 12
We awakened the next morning to bright sunshine. It seemed that no sooner would our spirits droop with the rain and fog, than the crisp sun would appear and it would feel like it would last forever. We would race to see all that we could see before the inevitable change in weather. And you never knew what direction the change would come from. Was that mist hanging over the mountain a fog-bank and storm waiting to consume us, or was it just a morning blanket for the mountains?
We tried to arrange to keep our Rorbu, but found that the entire complex was taken for the night. After all of the freedom we had previously had, being able to go anywhere at anytime and finding vacancies, we were now faced with having to find our night’s lodging and quickly, before the sun disappeared. By trusting in my Internet-provided brochures, we found that there was a moderately priced rorbuer south of town. Kalle it was called. We finally found the turn-off, and then it was a distance in, down a gravel single-track road. We came to the end at a rorbuer complex. Many inhabitants were seated on their stairs. It reminded me of a tenement.
Once again, we had stumbled onto ‘Authentic’ rorbuer.
But there’s authentic, and then there’s Authentic. There’s having board floors, and there’s seeing between the boards to the ground below, and having door frames only five feet high. And then there’s the coup de grace – no electricity. That was an accident, rather they were supposed to have electricity and the line was down; that’s why everyone was sitting on their stoops. It was supposed to be coming back on sometime during the morning.
Well, we could wander all over the island looking for accommodation and wasting time, or we could settle, and hope for the best. So we did. Settle and Hope, that is.
The owner offered us the use of boats for fishing, or guiding for hikes through the hills.
The area was barren, and not inviting. We quickly threw our stuff in the rorbu and took off for the sun.
We once again took the turning for Hennings-vaer, to see it in the sunshine. But, by a streak of good fortune, as we took the turn, we passed a bay with the tide out. It was the most beautiful beach I have ever seen. This overshadows any other high point to this point in the trip! The water was turquoise, the mountains, snow-touched, and the sand, curving and unmarked.
We stayed quite a while, just soaking in the blueness. We were all alone, until another car arrived, and we decided it was time to move on.
We stopped up the road for lunch in the car, as usual, and arrived in Henningsvaer. I have few pictures of Henningsvaer, because while Dad photographed, Mom and I shopped. This was the first town I had been in that seemed to cater to tourists. I bought slippers, and a T-shirt and a magnet. Mom and I shopped, and kept an eye out for Dad. It was a long time before we continued on our way.
We headed back towards Svolvaer, and then headed north to Laukvik and Fiskebol along the road we had not taken the previous night. It was a long ride, and some of it very unlike what we had seen so far. We passed though almost moorland which reminded me of Scotland. We picnic’d at the side of the road.
By this time I had become very adept at putting on a meal from the backseat. Although the backseat occupant may appear to have the most spacious accommodations, it is an illusion that also comes with great responsibility…’Wendy, can you fit this back there too?’ ‘Wendy could I have a cookie?’ ‘Wendy is there room above your head for this?’
The land grew more barren, if that is possible to believe. The road turned into a single-track dirt road, and we grew more tired.
The weather started to turn, and clouds started to come down on the mountains.
We finally circled back through Fiskebol, where the road finally re-appeared, and with a line down the middle! We dragged ourselves back to our luxurious accommodations at Kalle. And, we found that luckily the electricity had been restored.
But the day was not over. It was laundry time! Mom and I soaked and scrubbed laundry and festooned it all over the little cabin, with the hopes that it would be dry the next day. (It was)
Click here for Part 3 – My First Foray into Norway – Lofoten Islands and the Fjords
