For me, there’s nothing better than a disaster movie from the 1990s and early 2000s. Jurassic Park, Twister, The Day After Tomorrow, Dante’s Peak... I love these films so much, I may have gone on a trip to western Norway because of one.
Disaster movies are satisfying to watch because there’s a specific formula they must follow, one that we’re all intimately familiar with:
An early warning of the destruction to come.
A brilliant scientist with relationship problems, usually because they are more committed to science.
No one heeds the scientist’s warning.
BOOM. All hell breaks loose, and iconic landmarks are destroyed.
The scientist fights like hell to save the people in their life.
If they live, this is in spite of CPR performed incorrectly.
If they die, this is to sacrifice themself to save others, often as part of a redemption arc.
The scientist’s relationship problems are resolved thanks to trauma bonding. We are a family again. We will rebuild.
In preparing to come to here, I did a deep dive into Norwegian movies and television and came across the disaster film The Wave (Bølgen). Based on an actual tsunami in 1905 caused by a cliffside collapsing into the fjord and destroying the village of Geiranger, the film follows geologist Kristian Eikjord in a modern day reoccurrence of that earlier disaster. Not only does The Wave execute the disaster movie formula perfectly (even the New York Times agrees with me), it also inspired me to take my own trip to the Geirangerfjord.
Image Source: IMDB
If you watch the film, the first half of legitimizes my decision: panoramic views of the Geirangerfjord’s rugged beauty, waterfalls cascading hundreds of meters from the mountains above, idyllic farms perched precariously on cliffsides, and Norway’s iconic fjord ferries carrying cars and passengers from village to village. The fjord is so picturesque, it is now a UNESCO World Heritage Site.
Last month I embarked on a four-day trip to Vestlandet (the West Coast) of Norway to see the Geirangerfjord for myself. Below are a sample of photos I took during this trip.
Day 1: Ålesund, Romedalen, and Sæbø
Ålesund waterfront. Most of Ålesund burned in a fire in the early 1900s. When the town was rebuilt, the architects designed much of the city in an art deco style.
Oluf Holm, part of the Fisheries Museum in Ålesund.
Ålesund as viewed from the Aksla viewpoint, reached by climbing a rocky staircase through the trees.
The west coast of Norway is largely composed of fjords, peninsulas, mountains, and islands. Though there are many extensive tunnels that allow drivers to travel under the fjords or through the mountains, there is also a vast system of ferries that help to make travel more efficient. The whole system is quite reminiscent of the ferry system in the Puget Sound in Washington.
Hytter (cabins) tucked back at the end of the Romedalen valley.
Many of the cabins in this region have sod roofs, which used to be the most common roof in the region. They help to keep the cabin waterproof, can bear the weight of snow, and insulate the cabin against the cold climate.
Quick detour to the village of Sæbø to take some pictures for my grandmother. Her mother’s last name was Saeboe, and I suspect some of our ancestors once lived here. This is the view from Sæbø down the Hjørundfjord.
Cabins along the water in Sæbø.
Day 2: Olden, Snøhetta Reindeer Viewpoint, Romsdalen, and Trollstigen
This little guy climbed through the window into my cabin during the rain. I may be more of a dog person, but this little dude was too cute.
Olden Kyrkje
Alpine lakes above the treeline. The fall colors at these higher elevations were electrifying.
Nord-Sel Kyrkje
The hike to the Snøhetta Reindeer Viewpoint. Nearly blown over by the wind a few times.
Special stop to an iconic project by one of my brother’s favorite architecture firms, Snøhetta. From this building, you can view herds of reindeer and muskoxen roaming the valley floor.
Waterfalls in the Romsdalen valley.
Trollstigen, a road with 11 hairpin turns climbing out of the valley floor and over the mountain pass. So jealous of the cyclists I saw climbing up the road — the descent must have been incredible.
Touristing.
Waterfall holding onto the last glimmer of sunlight before the sun dipped behind the valley wall.
Day 3: Norddal, Geiranger, and Dalsnibba
The valley above Norddal has a network of cabins you can rent and is quite secluded. I stayed in one the night before, and had the whole valley to myself… well, except for the sheep.
And here she is — Geirangerfjord! Glimpsing these cliffsides in person and witnessing their sheer size, I now understand how the tsunami in 1905 was so destructive.
From the village of Geiranger, I took a boat tour down the fjord. Rounding the first bend, you begin to see the mighty Sju Systrene (Seven Sisters Waterfall).
The Seven Sisters are a series of (you guessed it) seven waterfalls, each falling about 450 meters from the lakes and snowmelt above.
On the opposite side of the fjord is Friaren (The Suitor). As the legend goes, the seven sisters dance beautifully down the mountain, while the suitor tries to flirt and court the sisters from across the water. Though he once tried to propose to the seven sisters, he never succeeded.
From the boat, hikers have the option to disembark and climb up to the Skågefla farm perched on a cliffside 250 meters above the water. This was the perfect place to stop, have a lunch, and read about how the original owner made it so that you could only reach the farm by ladder. When it was time for the tax collector to come, the farmer would just pull up the ladders so he wouldn’t have to pay his taxes.
View of the Geirangerfjord from Skågefla, with the Seven Sisters seen off to the right.
I met a couple from Germany at Skågefla, and we took photos for each other. While I was happy to take some really cute couply photos for them, when it was my turn for a pic all I could think of was ‘‘what if the cliff collapsed and the tidal wave started right now. This is my disaster movie moment. YES.’’
This may surprise some of you - this is not a photo of me. It’s actually a troll, and they’re not real.
Day 4: åNDALSNES
Seaside home in Åndalsnes.
The view of Åndalsnes from the Skylift gondola.
View of the valley from atop the mountain above Åndalsnes. This valley leads to the Trollstigen road pictured earlier.
Nordic Nuggets
Perhaps one of the greatest moments of cultural dissonance I’ve experienced thus far happened due to conflicting understandings of property and ownership. Norway has a policy of Allemannsretten: the right to travel and stay in nature. This means that anyone, citizen or not, can hike, camp, swim, and forage anywhere in nature, even when that land is privately owned.
Norwegians love the outdoors, making Allemannsretten a deeply-held cultural value, though similar policies exists in other European nations. In many ways, the love for the outdoors amidst a rainy and cold climate is akin to that of Oregon, Washington, and British Columbia. Unlike the US however, Norwegians seem to understand that this right comes with a sense of duty and responsibility. This means leaving no trace when hiking, and ensuring that when you camp to keep a healthy distance from where residents live.
During my trip to Vestlandet, I stayed in some of Norway’s iconic hytter (cabins). Many of these cabins were nestled back in a mountain valley, and often required driving through family farms filled with sheep and goats. These roads resemble a private driveway and are behind a closed gate.
Friendly lil goat buddy who wouldn’t get off the road. Wanted a glamor shot apparently.
As an American, the first few times I had to cross through these farms felt deeply disconcerting. It’s not uncommon in the US to see signs saying ‘’Trespassers will be shot,’’ and many state laws even defend the right of property owners to do just that.
Image Source: Putnam County, TN
In the next post, I’ll share about language, higher education, and the two orchestras I joined. If you’d like to receive email updates when I publish, feel free to drop your email below.