Meanwhile, somewhere in Norway

With thanks to Tiff for the photo

Some things seen while running in Bergen

I ran up a hill and took some photos. Here's the harbour.

The city center

As the record shows, I don't take a funicular if walking is an option. Look at all these suckers.

Hm, that's interesting

...oh no

I stumbled into a haunted troll forest. Always a risk in Norway.

But I escaped! And took more photos on my way down.

I'm Bergen

Every few hours I would wake as the engines roared to life to pull us out from a pier. The ferry kept operating all through the night. Combined with the white night (the sun sets at night in the north, but it never really gets dark) it made for a strange sleep. I found it reassuring after a while; I never woke up wondering where I was.

I rose at what I thought was breakfast time but turned out to be not-quite-breakfast time and went to take some photos. I had to be careful not to stray too far. With an average passenger age around 86 I suspected there would be a rush for breakfast as soon as it opened.

Everyone wanted a photo of this little house

It was too windy to stay outside all day, and long stretches of bare coast provided few photo opportunities, but I felt bad sitting inside and reading (though I am reading Justin Cronin's The Passage and it is fantastic). In the end I tried to find a seat close to a window and the bow where I could check for upcoming photo opportunities.

There were many

As we approached Bergen the scenery changed. The hills and mountains became greener, the houses which had been built on strips between the slopes and the sea were built further up.

Still lots of cool islands

Entering the city from the water gives an appreciation for its layout I never got again, once I was wandering around it. Bergen is spread all about the fjord, anywhere there is land to build on.

But still very green, in summer

It was late when we got in. I had to wait for the next day to get a good view of the city from above.

All down the broken coast

The ferry left at 10am and so, using the no information they provide on their website, I walked out of my hotel and in the direction of the huge ships. Given that the ships are enormous and Trondheim is not that big, it's probably fair that they provide no indication of where you should board the ferry. Once I reached the pier it became clear pretty quickly.

Once aboard I disinfected my hands (they had a thing about that), stowed my stuff in my cabin and went outside to get some photos.

A Trondheim raven hanging out on the ship's bow. I thought it augured well.

For all their talk of 'partial to no view,' the cabin was pretty good; spacious and comfortable. I was as far aft as could be and there was a bit of engine noise, but I didn't plan to spend a lot of time inside.

The advantage to booking late and being stuck with the expensive cabins.

The ferry itself is a working boat and takes cargo and people along the coast of Norway, in and out of the numerous fjords. Trondheim was a long stop-over, and a number of passengers took the opportunity to get off and look around.

For me the ferry finally offered an excellent shot of the Lade peninsular. For those of you playing along at home, one of the major characters in the novel I've written is the Jarl of Lade.

This is Lade

My objective was to get some really great fjord photos on the trip. Turns out fjords are freaking huge, and while they are beautiful to travel through they are impossible to effectively photograph from or close to the water level.

So most shareable photos come from towns, like this one in Molde

Any time the ship stopped we were invited to step off and have a look around.

Thanks for the photo, random German nona!

Those parts of the country were all glacially formed. The mountain ranges are ongoing, continuing even into the sea. They pop up as islands all along the coast, or sit just below the water's surface. The ferries have to stay to very specific routes, or risk tearing open on the underwater ranges.

The landscape was breathtaking; towns and farms built onto thin strips of land between ocean and mountains. An American passenger quipped, "they must be very concerned about global warming."

The price of natural gas is what they're worried about.

"And erosion," I said.

"I think all this is pretty stable," he said, nodding to the mountains.  "But when it goes, it goes big."

Three fortresses, two farms and a burrito

"The island is first mentioned in 997, when the king, Olav Tryggvason, rowed out here, with two heads."
That got my attention.
"The head of the local king, his worst enemy, and the king's slave. They were put on stakes, facing Trondheim, so that all would know who ruled."
I had travelled to Munkholmen because it promised a fine view of the city from the water. I had not expected that the history of the place would be so interesting.

Also, it looked badass

Not many people had come out on the tour; a lot of local families had come to have picnics on the shore. But it was fascinating; from viking executions to Catholic power base, a fortress for repelling Swedes and a German flak emplacement.

Star shaped battlements for fighting with swords, round walls for guns. Things you learn.

The boat ride out, the tour and the ride back took most of the morning, so I had lunch at the Dromadar Kaffebar (best coffee in Norway!) for some lunch. There was a path uphill from there, and something strange on the map, so I wandered up to have a look.

Pretty good view from up there

It was a second fortress, recently opened to tourists. A strange experience; no ticket needed to enter, no information inside. Just a bunch of people having picnics.

Just... in a fortress

Norwegians, it seems, love picnics in fortresses. Considering the fortresses have all the best views, I can't fault them on that.

Back in town, I hopped on the number 8 bus out to the folk museum, an outdoor establishment founded by a rich Swiss couple. They have relocated historical buildings from all over Trondelag and have a traditional town, two farms and two churches set up around a high hill that was once a strategic fortress.

A typical post-reformation church with a modern era Norwegian man

One of the farms (the 'rich' farm) featured a house which was used only for wedding celebrations. I would liken this extravagance to a modern family in a landlocked country owning a boat; they don't use it very often, but that's not the point.

Inside was some amazing traditional Norwegian decoration, against a not-so-Norwegian white background (the artist was Dutch)

There was a fire a few years ago and they had to restore it.

But the best thing I learned there was the origin of the Scandinavian/Baltic cry of 'Skål!' when drinking.  It literally means 'Bowl!'

This is a Skål

At weddings the guests would all bring baskets of food. One of the women in the household would have to keep track of who brought what and make sure nobody was served their own food (a major insult). The man of the house was responsible for providing the beer, which he brought up from the cellar in large jugs and poured into a bowl or Skål which had cups floating in the beer. When a guest wanted another cup, he would call for the bowl.

There were also buildings and such

The museum's tavern came well recommended (online) and I stopped in for dinner. I had a reindeer burrito, with a kind of potato pancake instead of a tortilla. It was... pretty good.

That morning, out at Munkholmen, the tour guide had given me a nice tip.

"The statue of Olav Tryggvason, in the middle of town, has next to him a small lump. It is the head of Haakon Jarl. Most people miss it."

I know I had.

Can you see it?

Some things I saw while running in Trondheim

The river Nidelva

The Nidaros Cathedral across the river

I followed the river, as there are paths most of the way along both sides

Munkholmen; where I'm going now

A change of scenery

"This will be my first night train," I said to Bjorn, who was sharing my cabin.
"That's strange," he said. "Why?"
"We don't have them in Australia."
"Oh, I see. I've been making this trip now maybe thirty, maybe forty times. It has become very boring. Where are you going?"
"Trondheim."
He whistled. "Long trip. Been to Norway before?"
"No,"
"You will like it, I think."

Sweden from the train window. Very pretty.

We reached his stop a little after five in the morning. I spent the rest of the trip to Storlien snoozing and taking photos from the window of the train. The landscape did not change much as we travelled; nice houses on the edge of lakes and rivers, all very flat.

Lots of trees, also

Storlien itself was deserted; a ski town closed for the summer. The train to Trondheim took us to the border. The change was stunning.

Norway: not so flat

My supervisor had told me that the trip down the fjord into Trondheim was one of the best train journeys he had ever taken. It was easy to see why. The train followed a fast-flowing stream all the way down to the fjord. Mountains rose and fell away on either side. Small communities were built into the pockets of flat land against the slopes, between the water and the stone.

I hadn't slept well on the train and crashed a little when I reached the city. But the sun stayed up a long time, so there was still opportunity to explore.

This photo was taken just after 9pm

I found a lovely spot for dinner and tried a local specialty; fish soup.

It tasted exactly as good as it looks.

The night I left Stockholm was Swedish Meatball night

"At least you'll be well fed for your trip," the girl behind the counter said

Meatballs with baked potatoes, brown sauce and lindenberry sauce

I was. I really was.

Something to prove

A little explanation at the start of this post; I had no intention of going to Uppsala when I planned this trip. In fact, I wasn't going to visit Sweden at all, but a number of people recommended I visit Stockholm (to see the Vasa!) while I was in the area and I could see the wisdom in that. Then my supervisor suggested that, if I had time, I make the trip out to have a look at Uppsala.

"It used to be the capital," he said. "It's relevant to you, and I think you'll like it."

He was right, of course. This always happens to me. I went to the USA expecting to be an east-coast person and fell madly in love with the west. Now it looks like Sweden is doing everything it can to win me over before Norway gets a look-in.

Uppsala suffers from Picturesque European Town disorder

Today Sweden put on a show like it wanted to marry my daughter. Uppsala is about 40 minutes from Stockholm by train. A quick walk to the river and I found the tourist bureau. I had no idea what I could see or do in Uppsala, just the vague knowledge that it was pretty and had something to do with vikings.

I was right on both counts.

The lady at the bureau recommended getting the bus out to Gamla Uppsala (old Uppsala) about seven kilometers from the city center. But first, there were some items near the cathedral she thought might interest me.

Holmfast had the stone erected in memory of his father and brother

 Mother.

Bjorn had the stone erected in memory of __ soul

 Flippin.

Gilliog had the stone erected in memory of her daughter Gilliog

Runestones.

The park by the cathedral had eight runestones on display. These are the first runestones I have ever seen. I was blown away.

Then it was lunch time. The tourist bureau had recommended a bunch of Swedish restaurants, but they all had fish-only menus and cost a lot of money. So I found a cute cafe.

Lunch round one

That sandwich was incredible. Fresh salad, cheese, sundried tomatoes, pesto. I was too hot for a coffee, but after watching the river for a while I thought a coffee would be just the thing. Also I had made the mistake of seeing the cake cabinet.

Lunch round two

German coffee and Austrian coffee had been so awful I have become wary of European coffee in general. In Austria in especially this was confusing; they were so proud of their coffee. I asked the girl at the cafe why Swedish coffee was so good.

"We're not proud," she said. "We just love our coffee."

The view at lunch time.

I got on the wrong bus. Well, the right bus, but going the wrong way. I got to tour the Uppsala number 2 route. But eventually I made it out to Gamla Uppsala.

Are those... are those barrows?

Gamla Uppsala was the bronze-age and Viking age capital of Uppland. The area is now full of excavation sites. There are going to be 30 archaeologists working there this year and 20 next year, preparing for the new train tunnel that's going in. There used to be somewhere between 200 and 2,000 burial sites in the area, along with halls and homes and such. Supposedly a pagan temple (though no evidence has been found). Most of it has been ploughed over as farmland and the landscape has changed considerably.

There's a museum. It's full of stuff excavated from the three primary burial sites and a handful of boat burials from nearby.

Swords and spears and helmets and jewelry and just so much stuff

An archaeologist gave us a tour of the exhibits and some history of the area. There were, he explained, two sources who provided information about whose remains were in the three main burial sites, and neither of them were reliable. One was a German priest, whose account was hearsay and was mostly propaganda aimed at making the Swedish pagans seem like savages.

The other was Snorri Sturluson.

In Snorri's version, one king was sacrificed to end a terrible famine. One fell off his horse and died. The third was gored by a sacrificial bull. But these accounts don't match up with the remains found.

Ten year old boys on bearskins and such

There was a reason for this too.

"In Snorri's stories about the Norwegian kings, they alway have heroic deaths. But the Swedish kings, the deaths are silly. This is why we say, when we don't believe somebody, that they are telling Norwegian Stories."

That was not my favourite thing.

"Also, Snorri is slang, in Sweden, for wiener. So that is funny. It makes all the school children laugh when they hear it."

The view from the middle site

They also had a kids section

The on-site archaeologist got me the metal sword from behind the counter

I would have looked more fierce if I could have wiped the shit-eating grin off my face.

Some things I saw while running in Stockholm

Entrance to the old town

Streets were pretty empty at 6am

Fast moving water

At the national theatre

Swans! Cygnets!