Midnight Sunbeams; or, Bits of Travel Through the Land of the Norseman

by Edwin Coolidge Kimball

It seems to be the universal verdict of all travellers in Norway, that its people are more delightful and truer hearted than in any other country in Europe; and many Englishmen, after their first summer in Norway, return home to a diligent study of Norwegian, and in successive summers revisit the country, to become more intimately acquainted with its people, who have so deeply impressed them by their straightforward, kindly nature.

Although of late years a great stream of travel has flowed over Norway, yet its people do not seem to have been spoiled by modern civilization; and whoever goes to Norway to-day, with a disposition to treat the people with politeness and consideration, will receive the kindest and most sincere attentions.

From Hellesylt we started on a three days’ drive of eighty miles across country to the Sognefjord. As there were no carrioles to be had, we selected, from the row of stolkjærres, one having the most spring to the supports of the seat, and entering our names in the station book, paid for the horse to the second station, twelve miles distant, the fixed price given in the front of the book. On leaving the inn we slowly wound up an ascent crowned with a picturesque church, overlooking the sparkling fjord; then the road mounted a rocky gorge, in whose depths foamed a noisy river, until we came into a mountainous region, with views of several glaciers and deep valleys. The road was tolerably smooth and hard, but extremely hilly; the bright-eyed boy of fourteen perched on our baggage behind jumped down to walk up all the hills, and to open the numerous gates across the way. As our horse was fresh and active, the twelve miles were soon accomplished, and we reached a forlorn station, where we gave the boy a fee of five cents, and after shaking hands he started back with his horse. We now changed into two carrioles, with fresh horses, and both of us had a Smuke Pige, a pretty little maiden of twelve summers, sitting on behind.

Two stolkjærres started off at the same time, one of them with a very fine horse leading. I came next with a dilapidated carriole, and a small, slab-sided animal, with a great wound on one side, which in healing had drawn the horse out of shape. His whole internal arrangements seemed to be loose, for as he travelled there was a most appalling rumbling and rattling; he was stiff and lame, and broken-winded, and was the greatest wreck of a horse I had ever seen; nor did I ever come across such a miserable one again while in Norway. I refused at first to take him, but he was the only one available, and as it was but five miles to the next station, most of the way being down hill, I thought he would be able to reach it. He started out apparently with hardly strength enough to keep himself from complete disorganization, but the spirit and pluck of an old race horse lay dormant, and was soon aroused; he was determined to keep up with the spirited leader, who was going at a tremendous pace, and we tore down the steep hills as if the evil one were after us. I could not hold him back, and expected any moment that the rickety carriole and wheezing horse would collapse. The horse in the rear was pressing hard upon us, and his mouth at times almost rested on the golden-haired Pige’s head, which so filled her with alarm that she shouted to the horse, serving to increase his speed. Thinking he might drop dead in the road if he continued at this pace, I turned out at one side and let the others pass, but even then I had hard work to keep him down to a gait suited to his bodily infirmities, and I arrived at the station not long after the others.

We waited an hour for dinner, but the time passed quickly, as the little village of Grodaas is most charmingly situated, at the head of a narrow fjord within a circle of the ever-beautiful mountains. The distance to the next station is six kilomètres, but the whole way being an ascent of steep hills we were charged for eight, this means being adopted to recompense the farmers for the extra work and time of their horses; in coming in the reverse direction only six kilomètres are paid for.

The horse and Pige walked most of the way, it being all the horse could do to pull us up, and it soon became so steep that we likewise got out and walked. The Pige was a demure little girl, who modestly lowered her eyes every time we spoke to her, and when we gave her a few cents as she left us at the next station, she took us timidly by the hand and dropped a pretty courtesy.

Here we both started in carrioles for Faleide, most of the way being a rapid descent. I had a strong, sure-footed horse, which I at first held back with a tight rein, as we descended a steep hill strewed with rocks; but he behaved so strangely that the boy looked over from behind to see what was the matter, and taking the reins, which he allowed to dangle at the horse’s side, uttered a Viking yell, starting the horse almost into a run, and down the hill we went as if coasting down a toboggan slide. I held my breath, thinking we might come to an untimely end, but the horse never made a misstep. After that I allowed the reins to lay loose, and the horse took his own gait in descending the hills. They really seem to enjoy going at their utmost speed descending, but at the slightest rise they settle into a walk.

At Faleide we found a modern hotel, built out from a wall of rock high above the road, its wide piazza commanding extensive views of the fjord and the grand mountains, with glaciers descending into the valleys. While waiting for the arrival of two boatmen, for whom the landlord sent to a neighboring farm, we had an inviting supper, served by a maid in national costume, with snow-white head-dress, in a dining room whose windows looked out upon the beautiful panorama of mountains and fjords; then we were rowed, in an hour and a half, past the numerous farm houses amid pleasant fields sloping down to the water, to Utviken, which we reached in the twilight hour, as a peaceful calm rested on the dark mountains, and the rippling fjord gleamed with the vanishing coloring of a vivid sunset.

Leaving the little inn at six o’clock the next morning, we started to walk to Red; between the two places is a steep hill, over two thousand feet high, which is so abrupt, that even the Norwegian horses are obliged to descend from its summit the greater part of the way at a walk, instead of at their usual breakneck speed; so it is more enjoyable to walk, and the distance can be accomplished in less time than by stolkjærre.