I see from my diary that the fjord steamer left Meraak in Geiranger at the unearthly hour of 2 a.m., and that in six hours I arrived at Söholt on a fragrant morning in June.
At this place I hired a "kariol" and boy for the drive to Vestnes. In crossing the extensive moorland which forms the watershed, we met a picturesque group of farmers with their wives and children, and the cattle, sheep, and goats. They were on their way to the "sæter" farms, there to stay for the summer months. A couple of rustic carts were drawn along by sturdy cream-coloured ponies, and in the carts the youngest children sat quite comfortably among the various domestic goods and chattels which were for use up at the "sæter."
Along the side of the road, which here crossed the bleak moorland plateau, tall standing stakes were placed at intervals in order to guide the traveller in winter-time when the road lies buried underneath the deep snow.
Vestnes is not an attractive place. From here the town of Molde can just be seen across the wide fjord, but it is too far distant for the view to be at all interesting.
Showers and sunshine alternating made the short steamer voyage from Vestnes to Aandalsnæs attractive, for the mountains of many peaks which surround the far-famed Romsdal were in view most of the time. Cloud shadows chased each other among their rugged forms and over the great patches of unmelted snow which lay on their summits.
The Romsdal
The village of Aandalsnæs, or Næs, owes the cause of its existence entirely to the magnificent scenery amid which it is situated. Veblungsnæs is the older port of call for the fjord steamers, but Næs, being more conveniently placed for travellers visiting the Romsdal, it has rapidly grown into favour in late years. The river Rauma, noted for its splendid salmon-fishing, separates the two villages.
Seen from Næs, also, the panorama of majestic mountains is much grander than from Veblungsnæs. On a fine summer's evening the rocks on the sharp peaks of Romsdalshorn and Troldtinderne (witch pinnacles) are all crimson and purple with the sunset, and bright tongues of fiery cloud are often seen burning and quivering about them; and the river, brighter than all, flows silently down the broad valley in a glittering sheet of gold. Long level lines of dewy mist lie stretched along the valley, almost hiding the mountain bases by their filmy vapour.