Today was the day we were waiting for: Sognefjord in a Nutshell. A day-long trip that involves trains, planes and automobiles. Wait… no, just the trains. And after we finish with the trains, we get to hop onto a boat and head out onto a Norwegian fjord for a couple hours. Time to admire Slartibartfast’s handiwork first-hand!
Unfortunately, we looked at the weather report the night before and things were looking gloomy. A few days ago, it was supposed to clear up and we’d have a spectacular, sunny day. Such was not the case when we woke up. Once again, gray and drizzly. We hoped that it would clear up so we’d be able to see more from the boat, but apparently, there are no guarantees when it comes to Norway’s weather.
We had to get up early to take a cab to get to the train station. Walking wasn’t really an option, given that the continental breakfast opened at 7:00 and the train was scheduled to leave at 8:40… having a cab pick us up at 7:45 was definitely the way to go. (Compound that with the gray drizzle outside and we were much better off inside the cab.)
The first stage of the trip was the train from Bergen to Myrdal. Since we’d arrived early, there wasn’t much competition for seats, so we found a group of six—three across facing each other—and took the two next to the window. As more and more people got onto the train, the four seats next to us stayed vacant and I said to Mom that we must be really scary if no one was willing to sit next to us. Naturally, less than a minute later, four people came in and took up a big chunk of our leg room. Drat.
The train started out going through a lot of tunnels and surrounded by rock, but as things opened up, the best views were on the other side of the train. Double drat. But we eventually got to see some lakes, rolling hills and waterfalls on our side as well, so I didn’t feel so bad.
It took us about two hours to get to Myrdal and wasn’t very notable aside from the fact that there were several stops along the way, making more space on the train, so the two people sitting next to us eventually moved to other seats.
We spent, oh, ten minutes or so in Myrdal, walking aaaaaaall the way across a single platform to get to our train to Flåm, which looked a little more rustic. The first one didn’t have a front or a back—it didn’t have to turn around that was. It just went back and forth from Bergen to Myrdal, whereas the second one had more of an engine/caboose look to it. I liked it.
I liked it more because there was a lot more room, so when people wanted to take pictures, they could scurry back and forth across the train to look out the windows. And there was definitely more scenery that was worthy of pictures. It had much better views and got a lot closer to the lakes, rolling hills and waterfalls.
The train even stopped for a couple minutes at the Rjoandefossen waterfall, which passed right underneath the tracks. I got out to take some pictures, which is when I really noticed that the sun had popped out from the clouds. It happened at some point earlier, but with the mist spraying off the rocks and sparkling in the sunlight, that’s when I appreciated it the most.
But there wasn’t just water at the falls. There were girls dancing. I’m not kidding. There was one who popped up from one of the distant rocks in the middle of the falls and started moving around slowly (Cue the Loreena McKinnett music!), then she sank down and disappeared, at which point another girl popped up above the wall of some tower ruins or something along the side of the falls. When she finished her own dancing and sank down below the wall, the girl in the falls reappeared until the conductor said it was time to get back on the train. Very odd experience, but it made for some very good pictures.
Remember how I said earlier that Bergen is a tourist trap? Well, that’s pretty much Flåm’s entire industry, which is probably why there’s more than a three-hour stretch of time between getting off the train and leaving on the boat. Thankfully, we maintained enough inner strength to limit ourselves to a lunch buffet and some bottles of pop at a nearby co-op.
The boat had been docked for a while, it was getting close to departure time and a line was forming towards the back of the boat, so we decided to stand in line and get better seats. We even met some other people from Minnesota when they got in line behind us. It looked like four sisters were taking their father—he was in a wheelchair—on a tour of Norway. Talking to them was pretty cool and standing in line seemed like a great plan until the boat turned itself around, moving the gangplank about twenty yards up the dock and causing a mad dash toward the new entryway.
That’s when we decided the tour organizers didn’t care much about making friends. The line was gone—getting onto the boat turned into a giant mass of human flesh trying to push its way onto the gangplank. It went from something relatively organized to what’s known in the business as “a giant clusterfuck.” Thankfully, that’s where I came in.
The father in the wheelchair with one of his daughters ended up just in front of us and when a crew member saw them, he came over to check their tickets, then turned the chair around and pulled it backwards up the gangplank. As the wheelchair began to move backward, I moved forward to take its space in front of the group. When the crew member got back, I immediately stretched our tickets, indicating they were for me and Mom (who was holding onto the back of my shirt, hoping she wouldn’t get squeezed off by said mass of human flesh).
As a result, the boat was almost empty when we got inside. Mom and I picked two seats in the front of the boat to have the best view (which would have been more spectacular if the sky hadn’t grayed over again), then gave our jackets to the father/daughter duo so they could save seats for the rest of their group. Finally, it was time to experience a Norwegian fjord.
