Day 6 - Eidfjord

norway
Originally uploaded by wolftone.

Unsurprisingly, it was raining this morning. Grandvin is not exactly an indoor-museum type town, so I pushed on to my next destination of Eidfjord. Fortunately, the rain stopped as soon as I crested the pass into the Ulvik fjord following the Hell-Climb. After some furious pumping, I made the ferry and crossed the channel, enjoying the steep cliffs on either side. A meandering pedal brought me to Eidfjord, which is consistently rated as the second-niftiest fjord in Norway. (After gudwangen's naerofjord.) These steep cliffs are what brought me dozens of km out of my way and I'm happy to say that they were worth it. The only problem is the low-hanging clouds which obscure the caps of the mountains. I'll make do.

The best place to see the Eidfjord is a farm (!) tenuously hanging 600m above the sound. Another pedal to the hydro plant (where the nice information booth guy let me store my cycling gear) and I began the day's climb. It's a steep, rugged boulder-hop from bottom to top. It crosses waterfalls, dodgy bridges, exposed slabs, fraying ropes, and surprise cliffs. Just the way I like it. The hike was exhausting after all that biking, but worth it. It's a bit shocking to emerge from trail and find oneself surrounded by muddy fields and two norwegian guys selling Hardangerfjord cheese slicers. I was feeling all studly for doing the hike until I later learned that (1) there is a road to the farm and (2) children at the farm used to do the hike every single day to attend school in the valley. So much for studliness.

Today's exotic land mammal sausage: reindeer. It's milder than the moose and goes well with brie. I'm running out of game animals to eat and may have to move on to endangered species next. (Actually, a realistic possibility once I reach Bergen.)

Biking (very slowly) back to the hotel, I figured out that there's nothing to do in this town but hike again. So I struck out for Obere Eidfjord up the valley in hopes of seeing some viking grave sites. I have since learned that ancient viking grave sites look a lot like nondescript piles of rocks, so that wasn't too interesting. However, the path did cross many different small farms so I could see how things are done here in the agricultural heartland of Norway. It's not easy to farm a country which is mostly vertical rock. I also made a friend - a farmer's border collie followed me for a while and we played stick.

This is a very dog-friendly place. Most (but not all) folks leash their dogs in the city, but almost no country dogs wear leashes. Dogs can be seen on trains and in shops, though not restaurants. And they're good dogs too - collies, border collies, aussies, labs, goldens, huskies. Real dog's dogs which have enough fur and volume/surface-area to withstand the brutal winters. Kaya would be right at home here.

The older folks in this town say "yes" and "ja" with an alarming intake of breath which sounds halfway between a hiccup and a yelp of pain. It's disturbing until you figure out what is going on.

This country messes with my usual photographer's appreciation for light. "Magic hour" lasts from about 6:30-10:30 as the entire scene is hit with saturated vertical light directly from a Hudson River school painting. I'm accustomed to a certain speed of sunset: it's still confusing me when I get my camera ready to capture an impending view, then have to wait 90 minutes for the sun to get into position. It does mean that I can be much more relaxed about these things, I guess.

Today's dinner is my first-ever sit-down restaurant meal in Norway. (wild boar burger, $25, if you're interested) After last night's canned tuna, I feel I'm owed. This little adventure put me in dangerously close contact with the Bus People. Bus People travel in swarms, descending like locusts upon the self-service buffet to gorge on meatballs and cabbage until they are almost too stuffed to return to their 4-star rooms. I condescend, but they're not eating a can of tuna for dinner either.