Really Cold Things = Really Cool Things. Glaciers in Nordjord.

Now that we've tackled fjords, mountains, and waterfalls, let's move onto glaciers. They are everywhere in west-central Norway, and I imagine they only get bigger and sexier the further north you go. People just love gawking at these snow smushed monstrosities, including myself. It keeps my ego in check when I think about the destructive power glaciers have- they literally carve the earth and rock using nothing but patience and pressure. Plus, the ice is punch full of science and things valuable to our earth's existence. 

Get this: Norway has a glacier lab located under the Svartisen glacier in northern Norway, somewhere above the arctic circle. The lab is seven hundred feet underground and the 30-40 foot long tunnels were created using nothing but fancy hot water. Six insanely brave scientists study things like the rising sea-levels, seismic activity, and mineral composition, which is literally a historic map of the earth's formation. Can you imagine?! It's like the ultimate field trip for my kids. But since that isn't really feasible, I plan to take them to the U.S. National Ice Core Lab instead, during our next visit to Colorado. And since I've announced it on the blog, I am committed. Here, they store ice samples in really cool metal canisters to perform studies of similar nature and they offer tours which have to be booked well in advance. 

Anyway. The Briksdal Glacier is very accessible, it is hikeable in under an hour or you can buy a ticket to ride a mini-truck up. You get sprayed by waterfalls, entertained by fat goats, and there plenty of giant rocks for kids to climb on. Plus, it's kind of pretty, and I got to spend some "quiet time" throwing rocks in the water. For those who want more hiking, the Briksdal area has tons of other trails both easy and technical. Unfortunately for us, tummies rumbled and I got outvoted on taking a picnic lunch to tide us over between hikes. 

Approaching the Briksdal Glacier 

Kleivafossen (fossen = waterfall) on the way up.

Briksdal Glacier and runoff (seriously- no filter used)

My tribe.

Bevatnet Glacier, a random stop off as we drove south-ish.

Swimming in glacial run-off is cold.
Where's my trophy?

Snow: Gift of the Norwegian Gods

Back in Namibia, when I ask the expat kids what they miss most, they say: grass to play in. That's fair, considering the majority of the yards in Windhoek consist of rocks, dirt, or pavement. Our kids however, miss having snow. Even if given a choice between grass or snow, the cold white stuff wins every time. So when we went up the Loen Skylift (about 30 min from Stryn) and saw patches of leftover snow, it was clear we'd be spending all day there.

The Loen Skylift only opened in May 2017, but has since brought thousands of visitors to the top of Mount Hoven (1,011m) for spectacular views of the fjords and surrounding mountains. Everyone piles into one of two cable cars to be delivered to the top in under five minutes. The summit offers various trails across the top as well as advanced technical climbs that require skills in rappelling and rock climbing. I had a burning desire skip the lift altogether and hike it both ways: a) because I am a cheapskate - it cost the four of us 1,210 NOK, or 155 USD, and b) taking the lift felt so weak. But at the moment, the trails descending the front of the mountain haven't been completed yet. We would have had to walk 6km on a two-lane highway (with no safe pedestrian access) and then ascend a diagonal trail to the top. I swallowed my inner Scrooge and paid. 

Luckily we did get plenty of hiking in at the top where we had a picnic among the crunchy lichen. We even coerced the grandparents into taking family pictures before letting the kids off leash to play in the snow. While they threw snowballs at each other, we had plenty of time to people watch. There were some interesting birds in the vicinity. Interesting, as in half-naked, half-baked, twins in matching shorties and tasseled bikinis; shirtless, shoeless toddlers oblivious to the snow, tiny pebbles, and terrifying cliff edges; photo staging enthusiasts who carried a snowman down the trail to pose with.

Before we headed down, we stopped for beers and a bathroom break. Margo was washing her hands when I noticed her backpack was still filled with snow. I reached in for a handful and launched a snowball at the back of her head, right in the bathroom. Hilarity ensued, at least for the Schlinks (especially Margo, who thought it was great that her mommy broke behavior protocol). Other women stood there with mouths hanging open, deeply disgusted that I threw a snowball indoors. In a room, mind you, that needed all the help it could get in the cleanliness department (grossssss!) Damn. I went there. But nothing could bring us down because the snowy mountains are where the Schlink family thrives.

The Father In Law saying howdy! Credit: Mark

Down below, the town of Loen.

Matching 2017 family t-shirts designed by Deets:
Scotland's national animal is the unicorn; gradh means "love" in Scottish Gaelic.
Norway's national animal is the elk; eventyr means "adventure" in Norwegian.

Heaven.

Soaked socks, butts, backpacks.

Real true smiles.

A nice place to sit.

Waterfalls, Death, and Dragons: Fjords of Norway

There are so many waterfalls in the fjords of Norway, that after a while, my kids would only half respond with enthusiasm whenever Mark or I pointed one out. I was constantly impressed by the sheer power of the icy cascading water, and envisioning vikings throwing people over to their deaths. I actually don't know if vikings did this, but then again, I also kept imagining Toothless or Gronckle flying overhead. 

What's even crazier though, is that people lived and continue to live on top of the these steep, waterfall drenched mountains. They have for hundreds of years, doing stuff like FARMING on unforgiving, precarious land. On a ferry route from Gerainger to Hellesylt, an automated guide described how some families would leash up their children to keep them from going over the edge. Livestock routinely swan dove over the cliffs too, flying past stable footed mountain goats. But you can't beat the view, right?

In addition to waterfalls and fjords, this section of Norway is also hugely popular for its hair pin roads that wind around mountain passes. On a particular sunny day we drove up the Trollstigen, a skinny paved road that reaches 858m (2,815 ft) above sea level. Trollstigen's website link is adorable saying the views will give you an "adrenaline rush." In part that may be true when walking across the clear bottomed platform at the top, bu twe all know the real fun is riding your bike up and down the 10% graded roads. Mark and I were so wistful. It's been a long time since I've suited up in maxi-pad-spandex.

Ah. Well. Can't unsee that, can you? 

This flat, easy hike takes less than 30 minutes
for a literal behind-the-scenes waterfall experience.
It's a 15 minutes drive from Stryn. Park at the nearby school and head along the road.

Tvinnefossen

Behind the roaring Tvinnefossen falls.

Road/trail for Tvinnefossen.
The trails are maintained by Norwegian 4H,
and have toys and crafts to play with along the way.

Flowers along the Tvinnefossen trail. Credit: Mark. 

Trollstigen Road, view from the summit.

From Trollstigen summit, viewing the town of Gerainger

Views along the Trollstigen Road. Credit: Mark

The ferry that transported us and the car from Gerainger to Hellesylt.

Seven Sisters Waterfall, view from the ferry.

People lived these mountains! Incredible.
Dragon credit to Deets.

Moving onto Norway

Mark orchestrated a beautiful and seamless transition from Scotland to Norway. Perfect weather, perfect company, perfect convenience. I love the airports that have rental lots and public transportation directly connected to the arrival terminal- so once again the men set off to pick up the cars while I downloaded the route we'd take to get to Stryn onto 5 separate devices for the whole family. Stryn is a town in what's technically west-central Norway (still the fat bottom half if the country), but still feels very far north. But it isn't really. Norway is crazy long: its coast line is 13,624 miles long. Estimated drive time: 6 hours and 15 minutes, so we counted on doing it in 8. We left the airport at 3pm, confident we could make it before dark because Stryn in July has about 22 hours of daylight. Which, we will talk about in another post.

We hit the road, already impressed by the sheer number of evergreen trees, even in the city. But, before I go into gushing about how pretty Norway is, I have one thing to bitch about and then I won't bring it up again. Norway has some great things going: solid infrastructure, well made roads and tunnels, and fancy bridges. The citizens enjoy access to fantastic health care, nutrition, and seamless technological advancements. So why is it then, that Norway has the most disgusting bathrooms I have ever seen in my life? 

Throughout our trip, most of them were in absolute devastation: unhygienic in dangerous proportions, graffiti, and trash everywhere, leaky sinks or non-working sinks. Putrid smears of body fluids were everywhere and even a dead animal was seen. It was an emotional experience (and not a good one) whenever I had to use a public bathroom. I much preferred to pee behind a car or in a bush. But of course, as Norway is technologically advanced, cameras are everywhere. Even restaurant bathrooms were cringe worthy. Shame on you Norway. Shame. Shame. The only decent bathroom was at the Oslo central train station but to enter, you had to pay 40 Norwegian Krone, or 5 USD via credit card or cash. FIVE DOLLARS to pee.

Moving on. About two hours in, stomachs gurgled so we stopped in Lillehammer for dinner, and having done zero research, we were at the mercy of an outdated GPS system to find us an open restaurant. GPS brought us to an outdoor mall and edible food was obtained. We saw the looming ski jump up close (very terrifying) and we were very pleased with ourselves when we came upon The Flamingo Bar. How great would it be to rub elbows with Steven van Vandt?! I say super great.  

What wasn't great, was that we had had zero communications with Mark's parents after leaving the airport. Norwegians are stingy with their free wifi, so calling them was a bit trickier than we wanted. Whatsapp messaging was our primary mode of communication in Edinburgh, so we did the same here and hoped for the best. 

The drive north was not unpleasant, though everyone drives the speed limit (fancy speed cameras and all) and anyway, most of the highway is 2 lane with a barrier or berm in between. We wouldn't be passing anyone anytime soon. Instead, we started making phone calls every 15 minutes, paying out the nose in airtime. A few hours later, we stopped again for groceries and found free wifi, hopeful to get an update from his parents. We did, but only a few messages of "where are we?" and "the GPS says we need to get on a ferry, should we take a ferry?!" Which, of course wasn't the original intended route. Sighing deeply, Mark and I decided to carry on, as it was nearly 9pm (still bright out) and we still had four more hours to go with delirious, napless children.

The unanswered calls continued, as did the milage. At 1am we arrived to the AirBnB rental, put the kids to bed and started calling again. Finally, at nearly 2am we connected. They were fine, but had gotten lost almost immediately out of the city. Google maps ate up the original route I laid had out and gave them a new one. They never made it to Lillehammer at all, but detoured west and in full on panic mode. His mom had only been using wifi to call me (I had no service whatsoever) and was leaving messages on Facebook which never went through. Realizing they were hopelessly hours behind us, they decided to stay the night in the last town they stopped at. Mark's parents made it to the house a full day later, but at least they had the benefit of descending into Stryn in broad day light. The views were spectacular with a mountainy landscape stuffed with glaciers, huuuuge towering waterfalls, and crazy deep ravines. 

They greeted us with hugs and wool socks, which is totally what I would do, if I got lost too. Alls well that ends well, though and now everyone could now sleep better. Or could we?

Not so north now, are we?

Gorgeous infrastructure.

Lillehammer. Not many photos when your undies are wadded with worry.

Finally settled into the mountain stocked countryside.

Traditional Scandinavian roof. Back in the day,
a birch bark and grass roof cost
 zero dollars to make and works as a decent insulator.