It is an extremely rough path by which one climbs to the Moldehei, through fields and woods, and after a rain it is like the bed of a torrent; but once upon the summit one is rewarded by a beautiful view, embracing the little town at your feet, the blue fjord dotted with islands, and a magnificent range of mountains partly covered with snow, the lofty peak of the Romsdalshorn dominating all others.
A good road extends east and west along the fjord, affording agreeable walks, especially during the long bright twilight, when the fjord reflects the dark islands and shores in its clear waters, while over distant snow-capped mountains, and hills close at hand, is the beautiful, almost unnatural, light, rendering everything ethereal and unsubstantial.
In our walks, every one greeted us with a God Dag (good day) or a God Aften (good evening); and if by chance we gave anything to a child he took our hand and shook it, without saying a word, as an expression of thanks; certainly a most sincere and natural way, and one that goes directly to the heart. Whoever objects to shaking hands with old and young, rich or poor, should stay away from Norway, for whenever money is paid or anything is given to a Norwegian, it is followed by a shake of the hand.
We were astonished to find at one end of Molde a hospital for lepers. Leprosy is the most terrible curse of Norway, and for the treatment of its victims five hospitals have been erected, of which the largest are at Molde and Bergen. The lepers mostly come from the fishing districts in the north, where the disease is caused by a continued fish diet and absence of fruit and vegetables. It is said that some victims when first brought to the hospital appear to be perfectly well, but as the disease advances the fingers, toes, or nose drop off, the bones in the hands and feet disappear, rendering them helpless; some become blind; the face and body are covered with spots, and the victims become white as chalk. It is a slow and torturing death by inches, as member after member decays and drops off. It is not considered contagious, and visitors are even allowed to mingle with the victims at the hospital. Being regarded as hereditary, it is hoped at least to prevent the propagation of the disease by the marriage of its victims, and whenever a person is known to be tainted with leprosy he is sent to a hospital.
From Molde we travelled up the winding Romsdalsfjord, every turn of the steamer developing new beauties of cliff and mountain scenery. The farther we advanced the narrower grew the fjord, and the nearer approached the mountains. Landing at Veblungsnaes, a little settlement at the end of the fjord, a crowd of men and boys surrounded us, all anxious to furnish a horse and carriage for a drive up the valley.
I left my friends here for a few days, and started alone on my first carriole drive. The carriole is an open, two-wheeled vehicle resembling a gig, with a small seat for one person, who drives himself; you hang your legs out at the sides of the very narrow body of the carriole, resting your feet upon braces; at the back, on a narrow cross bar, is strapped your baggage, which is necessarily limited in quantity, and upon it sits the Skydsgut (post-boy), who always accompanies you and returns with the horse and carriole when you take a fresh one at the next station.
It began to rain, but donning my rubber coat (a prime necessity in Norway), and buttoning the leather boot tightly to the back of the seat keeping me warm and dry, we started on a twenty mile drive up the Romsdal. The horse was small, sure footed, and tolerably fast, the springs of the carriole rendered it an easy riding vehicle, and as the rain soon ceased it proved an enjoyable drive up the grand valley, with its steep rocky sides, and a river foaming far below the smooth and solid roadway. The boy’s English was confined to “Oh, yes!” which he fired at me in answer to every question; therefore our conversation was limited.
We stopped at a little posting station to feed the horse, and I improved the chance to take supper. I was served with a quart of cold milk, four boiled eggs, with bread, cheese, fancy crackers, and crullers, ad libitum, and was charged fifty öre (about thirteen cents). The long drive and mountain air had given me a good appetite, so I left very little food upon the table, and felt decidedly guilty as I thought how much the poor people must have lost on my supper, as I paid the modest charge, and received a hearty hand shake from the assembled household. A small station called Flatmark was my objective point, and we arrived there early in the evening. Paying the boy the fixed charge of so much per kilomètre (five-eighths of a mile), and a few cents extra as a fee for himself, he shook my hand and then returned with the horse.
The inn, which was only a common farm-house, was not very inviting on its exterior; no one about the place could understand a word of English, so I racked my brain trying to recall the few Norse words I knew, and at last had recourse to my phrase book; but I cast it aside in despair, for it always opened to this sentence, Jeg har været gift og har et Barn (I am married, and have one child). Now, for a confirmed bachelor of many years’ standing, seeking a bed for the night, and striving to arrange for breakfast in the morning, what could be more useless than such a sentence, torturing him with the recollection of unattained connubial bliss, and if uttered, causing him to sail under false colors into the sympathies of this daughter of the midnight sun? Therefore, without going into details of my family relations or heart’s aspirations, I managed to select from the twenty Norwegian words at my command a few which, when uttered, resulted in my being conducted into a neat and plainly furnished room, from which opened two bedrooms. I placed my knapsack in one of them, and then, as it was yet early in the evening, started to walk up the valley towards Ormeim.
The rocky sides of the valley are almost perpendicular, and over them came waterfalls and cascades precipitated from rock to rock, a distance of over two thousand feet; great mountain peaks towered in the background; the river Rauma rushed o’er its rocky bed, the whole forming a most imposing scene, tempting me to prolong my walk until nearly midnight.