Norway in a nutshell: along the Flam Railway

This is going to be a plain chronicle account of my trip from Oslo to Bergen and then back to Oslo. Everything is presented in its original flavor, as original as Norway itself. Nothing seems to be so exciting, but the true-to-nature spirit is what is left with me after leaving Norway. When I look back to my trip, I failed to pick out one or two particular cases or moments that struck me. It is rather, the whole experience, assembled together minute by minute, that makes the whole trip memorable. There is also a distant feeling with me while I was in Norway. I'm not sure whether it is because of the coldness, the monotonous color of white and dark green in early spring, or the colored houses sparsely dotting the vast mountain valley.

My destination in Norway is the fjord, the deeply-cut valley by glaciers. I landed in Oslo late at night and embarked on a west-bound train from Oslo to Myrdal. The journey meanders through snow-capped mountains that were still sound asleep underneath the snow blanket. If I were able to omit the train I was seated in and the chatting sounds in the cabin, I could have envisioned myself in the South Pole, trekking through ice and snow. My eyes were hurt by the sunlight reflected from the white snow plateau, and I couldn’t help but squinting my eyes. Occasionally, there emerged some black trees in the horizon and slipped quickly to the back of the train. The black thin trunks shivered in the freezing wind. Every time the train stopped on a platform, several houses with bright colors could be spotted not so far away from the station. There was no trace of human beings around or outside of the houses. They were probably kept inside by the chilling air. Only an extreme necessity could force the doors open to let out a person while letting in some fresh wind.

About four and half hours after I departed Oslo, I arrived at Myrdal station. Built in 1908, Myrdal is a junction that connects passengers to the Flåm Railway, one of the steepest railways in Europe. Around the station were several houses down a slope and a platform filled with passengers. We all descended together to the seemingly deserted station. All at once, the air were stirred up with voices of man and women chatting, with rolling noise of luggage, with the clicking sound of cameras and inpatient steps on the platform waiting for the next part of the journey to start.

A forest green train pulled into the station and all feet on the platform stepped unanimously to the several gates as if there were magnets in all passengers' shoes and they were all pulled towards the steel boxes with irresistible power. Insider of the train were wooden interior decorations and red flannel folding seats. I sunk into the seats as soft as freshly baked bread and the train steamed off after a long cheerful whistle echoing in the valley. All passengers on at the Myrdal station were swept away, leaving behind an empty platform and a waiting room with no one waiting there.

The train was sliding downwards, slope after slop, over a train track cutting through mountains, tunnel after tunnel. The light inside of the train dimmed and brightened time after time. Passengers inside of the trains had their eyes gazing outwards through the clear glass windows, afraid of missing any single detail along a journey hailed as one of the most beautiful rail trip and the steepest train trip in Europe. They turned their necks left to right, right to left, so as not to miss scenery on the other side of the journey. One photographer hanged his camera outside of the window, yet no one seemed to care about the cold wind rushing inwards from outside. The scenery had already softened the travelling hearts and made them more tolerant than ever before. Outside were mountains, cliffs, grass, pine trees, colorful villages, left-over snow from the past winter, melting ice over crystal streams, and pouring waterfalls that run thought the stones like ribbons. The freezing Aurland district in Norway is walking up to the spring and offered surprises of green buds on black branches. The beauty of Norway is solemn. Unlike the cheerful tropical regions, Norway delights me in a contained way. I feel like jumping and running when I was in Bali, and I feel like walking slowly and savor the scenery in a more meticulous manner.

The 40-minute trip took my down by 863 meters over a distance of 20.2 kilometers and I found myself at dusk in the village of Flam at ocean level at the Aurlandsfjord. Daylights in Flam were dimmed by the steep mountains surrounding the distant village and the sun was hidden behind the mountain ranges much earlier than sunset time. The air filling my lung was refreshing and chilling and my senses were awakening and alert. A random walk of 10 minutes took me over the entire village past a hotel, a souvenir shop, a brewery bar, a ferry station (where I would depart from the next day to the fjord) and where I would be staying at, a hostel situated at the foot of the mountain. The house is made of wood, exterior painted in brown, interior left unpainted and cleanly furnished with the most essential necessities to sustain a night with: a pillow, a blanket, four bunk beds and four chairs. I felt quite contented with the simplistic way of living and filled my stomach with a hot bowls instant noodle, the most fulfilling food I could find for myself in the tiny food booth selling nothing more than hotdogs and barbecued meat. I wasn't so attracted by the idea of munching on reindeer meat though. It was a cold night, with roaring wind splashing on the loosely fitted window glass. That night was one night my desire was reduced to only food and warmth.

I woke up to a sunny morning that obscured all my previous sufferings. After energizing myself with a quick breakfast in the wooden kitchen of my hostel, I boarded a cruise at Aurlandsfjord. Although the wind and the cloud deprived some friendly beauty of the fjord, the journey was breathtaking. Lakes resembled mirrors and mountain curves were reflected in it. Emerged by the wildness and roughness, the vast space was extended and expanded as if there were no boundary. The settlers on the slopes must be extremely lucky dwellers that enjoy day after night the rare beauty our nature has to offer. They must also be extremely wise to be able to sustain themselves in the deep valley both materially and spiritually.

"I regard the green mountains as charming,

as it sees me as glamourous. "

My journey continued to the narrow Nærøyfjord until my arrival at the village of Gudvangen, from where a bus took me through villages and mountains to Voss where I boarded a train to Bergen on the west coast of Norway. From Bergen, I turned eastwards with a train back to Oslo.

The sceneries along the line were more or less similar to what I've seen in the previous part of the journey. Familiarity was working on me in the return trip and I was enjoying a warm cinnamon roll over a cup of hot coffee. The girl sitting across me was secretly examining me, an Asian stranger, from her open fairytale picture book.

#Norway #Travel