Last Updated on May 9, 2023 by PowersToTravel
Disclaimer: This is part of a 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.
Ferry to mainland and starting the drive south – Thursday June 13
The next day dawned as was foreseen, with a fresh layer of fog over the entire island chain. We found our way to the ferry terminal, and took the Skutvik ferry to the mainland, heading towards as much fog as we were leaving behind.
If there is anything constant in Lofoten, it is the the weather never is. I wished that we could have spent the entire trip there, waited out the weather and perhaps gained strength for those mad dashes when the sun did come out.
But if we had, think of what we would have missed…
Moving on from the Lofotens, we traveled quickly east and south on the Mainland. The Skutvik road was billed as extraordinarily scenic, and admittedly we were seeing it on a cloudy day, but even with our avid photographers, we weren’t slowed down. It just didn’t seem very scenic after what we had experienced on Lofoten. We joined the A6 east of Skutvik, and trundled our way South.
There was a lot of ground to cover. I believe it was 600 miles in 2 days. We headed to Fauske, where we stopped briefly to arrange our hytter for the night, down in Rossvol.
The road was described in travel guides as uninspiring, so we were taken by surprise. Even with the sometimes cloudy, sometimes rainy weather, and even with the constant speed we had to maintain, the scenery was ever-changing, and beautiful. Quickly we would speed by a fjord, draped by mountains tipped with snow. Quickly through another long tunnel. We made a few pit stops along the road, but mostly Dad was just hugging the line and making time.
It was actually lucky that the weather was bad, because if it had been good, Dad would have suffered sorely for having to pass it by. It was necessary to make this time because the rest of our vacation awaited us down South in the fjord country.
A high point of the day for me was our arrival on the alpine plateau near the Arctic Circle. It was such a contradiction, having spent a week up north of the circle, to come south, and slowly mount a plateau, which at the top looked more like the Arctic than the Arctic we had experienced. Directly on the Arctic Circle was the Polar Sircle Senter, replete with Arctic Circle souvenirs, the pity being that for as large as the store was, I couldn’t find a single thing to purchase.
We crossed the high plateau, headed down the other side, and arrived in Rossvol, where our hytter was located. If we only could find it…with no address. We pulled into the Texaco filling station, and I popped out to ask for directions. Somehow I had became the ‘speaker’ for the family, which was a little silly since almost all Norwegians speak English, so my ‘translation’ was only to ask the questions as simply as possible in English and attempt to understand the response in English. Some times were easier than others. This time, the response to ‘Where is Rossvol hytter?’ was ‘Here.’ ‘But could you tell me directions?’ ‘Here.’ Eventually we arrived at the understanding that the Texaco man was the owner or manager, and the hytter were at the other end of the filling station.
The Hytte was a one-bedroom job, with a bunk bed in the small living area, which was mine of course. Mom put on a meal, which according to my food diary, was spam and noodles. It was shortly after this night that I began to rebel against ‘Mobil-Mart’ type food, or as they say in Norway, ‘Tiger-buttik’.
Continuing south to Trondheim and Adventures in Laundry – Friday, June 14
We started early on the 2nd half of our mad-dash south. We passed uneventfully through Mo-I-Rana, with no memories whatsoever. Ever so occasionally I would ask Dad to stop so I could take a picture, so I would have some memory of what it looked like, but the weather was so poor, the clouds so low, that there was no ‘Photography’ to be done that day by the True Photographers, only the ‘Tourist’ photographer (me).
The landscape became much less mountainous, and more agricultural. We did stop for a break in Steinkjer, which had a very pleasant down-town area, so we grabbed some groceries, poked in a couple shops and got on our way.
As we approached Trondheim, the land became rolling green, similar to near Oslo. We didn’t enter Trondheim at the time; we took a by-pass road and continued south several miles to our ‘Camping’. We stayed at Sandmoen, our first campground, vs. Hytter. We were able to rent a large hytte very inexpensively. Unfortunately, this was the only accommodations which I forgot to take a picture of.
The Campground had a laundromat, so the evening was taken up with Laundry, and there’s more to be said about that than the entire two days it took to get there!
Mom put on dinner, which, according to the food diary, was a delicious omelet. While she cleaned up, I ran the dirty clothes over to the laundromat, and purchased some tokens for the machines and laundry soap. I luckily arrived just as one of the two machines came free. I quickly popped my first load it, and tried to figure how much soap to add. Instructions for the machines were posted on the wall, in German and Norwegian. Well, what do you know? Finally I needed my Norwegian and I hadn’t studied Washer and Drier etiquette. In addition, I always use liquid soap and didn’t know how much powdered soap to add in any case. So I added soap. The next machine came free, Mom arrived and started her first load. So, we stood in this cold cement building watching the wash go ‘round. The first cycle came and went and the soap didn’t even suds up. The second cycle came and the soap grew and grew and grew and … I think I made a mistake. When mine finally finished the soap was still clinging in wet clumps to my laundry. I had to put in more tokens and re-wash my entire load with no added soap, and even then it was soapy and I just gave up and put it in the drier.
Mom had her adventure too. When it was time for her clothes to go in the drier, there was a stopped drier full of damp clothes, so she removed them, put hers in and started the drier. No sooner had she done so, than two women arrived, and were visibly upset that their clothes had been removed. They spoke only German, Mom only English, so Mom just stood there smiling, gesturing and apologizing, and then they went away. We spent hours feeding washers and driers, and guarding clothes; there were no chairs, and no heat. Just pacing around a small square cement building. It was this experience that has taught me to try if at all possible, to avoid laundry on future trips!
Trondheim to Andalsnes – Saturday, June 15
The next day dawned cold, raw and overcast. We drove into Trondheim center to do a little sightseeing. We easily navigated the downtown streets and found a parking garage. We easily found a spot for the car, and headed… for the exit. Up the staircase we went until all that was left was a cypher-locked door. Obviously not the exit. We went all the way down and appeared again on the car-level. Where was the exit. Luckily a man was cleaning the garage near us. ‘Do you speak English?’. All we got was a shake of the head. My practiced Norwegian quickly came into use: ‘vor er namsta utgang?’ (Who knows how it is actually spelled!). The man something along the line of ‘til venstra, til venstra’ (take a right, take a right) and then led us to another staircase which led outside. This then was the sum total of my Norwegian speaking.
It was cold and overcast. We wandered to the Nidros Cathedral, which was large. It was apparently from the middle ages and the largest, most northernmost cathedral in Europe. We stopped in at the Turistsenter to make our hytter reservations for the night in Trollstiggen, and were able to reserve at our preferred place. We wandered around the downtown for a little while, had a pastry in a bakery, then headed over to the mall and found lunch at ‘Pepe’s Pizza’. It was very much like Papa Ginos. I can’t say that Trondheim was very nice or exciting, but gloomy gray skies are worse in a city than on a mountain, at least to me.
We retrieved our car without incident and drove south. In the beginning we were on the E6 and drove quickly. Then at Oppdal we headed west on 70. We drove along a long green valley with mountains at the edge. We arrived in Sunndalsora which I remember being a very pretty town on the edge of a fjord.
And the home of a fairly nice grocery. I found frozen Pryn I Panna. It had a wide avenue which led right down to the water’s edge. We took 62 west from Sunndalsora along the Sondalsfjorden. It was overcast and misty throughout the trip, but the land was oh so green. At Eidsvag we took the 660 and went around the long peninsula to Andalsnes. We were driving along, and then a helicopter was in the sky, with a huge load of lumber suspended below. A number of people with a lumber truck were at the side of the road as the helicopter lifted its load up the side of a steep mountain at the edge of the fjord. What I wondered was, ‘How are they going to get up and down themselves?’
At the end of a long driving day we arrived south of Andalsnes at the Trollstiggen Camping. It was a wonderful cluster of bright yellow shellac’ed hytter. You could hear the water of nearby river. Mom put on the pryn I panna and it wasn’t half bad. Not like on the Hurtegruta, but nice after the long day. I once again had the bed in the living room.
All Trollstiggen and Andalsnes – Sunday, June 16
The day dawned bright and sunny. What an amazing feeling to see the sun and bright blue sky. We headed up the Trollstiggen, and found much of it in shadow. We slowly navigated the eighteen switchbacks and arrived at the top. It was only about nine in the morning. We decided to keep driving south, and return later in the day, when the sun would be fully shining down on the canyon. The plateau to the south of the Trollstiggen is an Artic-looking place, with snow still blanketing the mountainside, and ice-flows still wandering the small meadow lakes.
It was a little chilly to be sitting out on the mountainside, so I rested in the car while the photographers spent a great deal more time than I recording the location. As we headed south, we descended from the Artic plateau and once again entered a valley between high mountains. I just can’t imagine visiting Norway in mid-summer when the mountains are bare of snow, and the wild flowers are not in bloom. It may have been chilly at times, but I wouldn’t have wanted heat, not in Norway!
We arrived in Valldal, a small town at the side of the Nordalsfjorden. On the map it is listed ‘Slyte’, but when we arrived, the town was named Valldal. We parked in a carpark right along the side of the fjord, at water level, and made our sandwiches. We sat at a bench overlooking the fjord, and a couple selling t-shirts, that seemed to be leftovers from a New York street vendor. At the other end of the car park was the turistsenter and we strolled in. A school-aged child started talking to Dad, trying out his English, while of course, Mom went to the ladies’ room.
We eventually packed up lunch and headed back the way we came, back to see the Trollstiggen in full sunlight. For amazingly so, it was still bright and beautiful. When we had first driven Trollstiggen at 9 in the morning, it had been peaceful and breathtaking. However now it was full of tour buses and tourists. Mom and I headed for the ladies room, and it was one of those where you have to pay to enter. I paid my bit, and was in the stall when I heard a commotion outside. I heard mom say, ‘This is my daughter’s’. What had happened was a tour bus arrived (and they must have been Scottish, no not really) but when they found they had to pay, they all lined up outside my stall, willing to wait one by one to grab a free pee. Off course Mom was first in line, having defended her position bravely. I left her to the mob after I was done, and checked out the gift shop.
Dad and I eventually took a walk across the street, down a long path to an overlook. From there you could see the entire Trollstiggen valley. It was a tremendous view. I walked part-way back down the road, while Mom and Dad spent more time with their cameras.
In this picture, our Trollstiggen Camping is about mid-way, near the brownish oblong in the floor of the valley.
It it frequently happened, when the sun shone, we just kept trucking. We drove down, passed our Camping and kept going to Andalsnes, the town at the mouth of this valley on the Isfjorden. We drove through, and out the other side, on our way to the Trollveggan, which means Wall of the Trolls, The Trollveggan is apparently a favorite place among climbers. We drove through a narrow valley, with rocky walls, seemingly perpendicular, reaching to the sky. Once we were through, we stopped the car and looked backward. As usual, we popped out for some pictures. Unfortunately, because it was now mid-afternoon, the sun was on the other side, and the picture-taking was poor. We eventually got ourselves in gear, and returned to Andalsnes. Mom took a stroll and bought herself an ice-cream. Dad wandered over to the water’s edge in search of photography, and I sat on a bench. Even though it was a Sunday afternoon, it was as if the town had shut down. The sun was beaming brightly, the weather was not too cold, and there was almost no-one around.
We finally be-stirred ourselves and returned to our comfortable lodgings chez Trollstiggen. This area is called Mor og Romsdalen, and is known as the Land of the Trolls. They seemed everywhere, carved wooden figures with huge noses, adorning shop fronts, street corners…and especially our campground. Mom made dinner again. By this time I really wanted some quiet time to myself. Dad made noises that he wanted to keep going, and drive some more in search of pictures. I encouraged him, and Mom. Dad went, Mom didn’t. So, we wandered over to the gift shop at the campground center. Mom found a beautiful sweater, and I found some music CDs for Don.
We wandered home, and relaxed. Sort of. This was the place where a bunch of flies somehow found their way in. Mom was quietly reading in her bunk and I wandered around trying to swat flies. ‘Come in here!’ she called. “There’s a fly. It’s on my leg.” Carrying a trusty tourist brochure, I swatted VERY HARD at the fly. Unfortunately, I forgot that the fly was on Mom. The fly whizzed away, and I raised a nasty red welt on Mom’s leg. I was banned to the other room, and we awaited Dad’s return, which he did make.
Geiranger – Monday, June 17
Sometime very early morning I awoke. I guess, especially after such a beautiful day, I was hyper, wondering if it would rain again. I went outside, and saw a huge shelf of clouds half-covering the valley. Are they coming or going? I couldn’t tell in the mist and darkness of the early morning, and returned to bed. When the day finally dawned, the mist was still there, but the sky was clear!
We packed up the car, and on a whim, headed once again to the Trollveggan, to see the wall in the sunlight. What a difference. The silver-grey sides of the craggy mounts were sprinkled with powdered sugar, and a slight mist was hovering in the valley.
We returned to the Trollstiggen, up the valley once more, and once more across the Alpine plateau, and down the other side. This time, was stopped at a sign which said “Gudbrandsnetfossen” or some such thing. We wandered along the short path, and came out at a lookout over a narrow, frothing river, which had cut a curved path through the rocks. A young girl was standing on a hill above the fossen, in native dress, playing a violin. It was quite beautiful, and Mom got a wonderful picture of the girl. One the other side of the fossen, wonderfully, too, was a small Ice Cream vendor. We bought ice creams and sat at a table, looking up the valley and basking in the sunshine.
We continued south, to Valldal once again, and took the ferry just west of town across the Nordalsfjorden to Eidsdalen. As we reached the middle of the fjord, we could see west and the beautiful blue sky, with puffy white clouds. But directly ahead of us, we could see the massing of storm clouds. We arrived at Eidsdal and quickly drove up the center of the valley. We reached the top, and the carpark. From here we could look south to the Geirangerfjord, supposedly the most beautiful fjord in Norway.
The wind was starting to rise, and as we viewed this fjord, the rain started to spit. We hastened back to the car, and made our way down the other side, into the Geiranger. It truly was a beautiful place, a narrow fjord, with snow capped mountains on either side. The water is supposed deeper than has ever been measured.
We arrived in town, looking for the Grande Hytteuleige Camping. It was on the edge of town, and indeed, on the edge of the fjord. We were there at the best of times. It was apparent that the huge green lawn in front of our Hytte was destined for campers and tents, but at this time, there were none yet in camp. This was a peculiar cabin. The bathroom was outside. Not quite as bad as an outhouse, but it was certainly outside. We had to leave the front door, and then take a quick right, and open the door to the bath. Needless to say it was chilly! The cabin itself was very nice and homey. Needless to say, as well, it rained. As we sat on our front veranda that evening, a Greek cruise ship slowly made its way up the fjord to the town. As it rained, we looked out over our vast green front-lawn and saw a beautiful rainbow over the fjord, settling right upon the cruise ship and the town.
We could never sit still for long, and soon we were up and ready for a visit to the town of Geiranger. We drove in, as it was a little distance down the fjord. We parked the car in a car-park and wandered through the town. It was a picturesque place, but catered entirely to tourists. Every shop was a gift shop. That’s because the Hurtegruten and other cruise ships come into harbor here, disgorge their passengers and give them only enough time to spend their money. Well, in keeping with that tradition I bought a T-Shirt there. It didn’t take us long to stroll around, and we toodled back to our hytte, somewhat disappointed.
Click here for Part 4 – My First Foray into Norway – Lofoten Islands and the Fjords
