From the hall—which seemed like a reception room, as no stairs were visible—opened through wide doors, on one side the parlor, on the other the dining room; ivy climbed over the doorways and around the rooms; flowers and birds, cases filled with English and Norwegian books, racks with pipes and ornaments, tables covered with English newspapers, near which were drawn easy chairs, were about the rooms, and everything was so neat and inviting, with such an air of comfort and restfulness, that we decided at once to remain several days. Herr Sivertsen, the proprietor, although a University-educated man, does not speak much English, but he made us welcome and sent a maid to take our orders, who had lived several years in America, and who greeted us in our native tongue.
We were soon served with a good dinner and met some pleasant people, as pleased with the inn as ourselves, who on their arrival intended simply to stop for dinner, but had remained several days.
During four days it rained almost incessantly, and we congratulated ourselves on being so comfortably housed. The irregularity regarding sleep which attends a tour in Norway, where during the perpetual daylight one is led into constant travelling and sight-seeing while the weather is pleasant, calls for occasional periods of rest, to enable one to “lay off,” and to store up a fresh supply of sleep and strength, and also to mentally digest the impressions and information one gathers so abundantly.
We found Sande a perfect haven of rest; our rooms and beds were clean and comfortable, the food abundant and well cooked. The pleasant acquaintances we made, and the genial home feeling pervading the place, rendered our stay there one of the most enjoyable of our experiences in Norway. Often during the day travellers would arrive, either to take fresh horses and continue their journey, or to stop for a meal or the night, which would call us from our reading and writing, and animate the otherwise quiet place. At one end of the house was a room used as a shop, containing an assortment of hardware, gingerbread, boots, soap, jewelry, in fact everything to satisfy the moderate wants of the natives, who drove up in their stolkjærres to do their trading, their costumes and quaint ways furnishing interesting studies.
One day as I was walking in the rain a farmer stopped and spoke to me, then putting his hands on my rubber coat, tried to unbutton it; thinking he wished to know what time it was, I opened my coat and showed him my watch, at which he shook his head, and taking my coat in his hands carefully examined it, inside and out, and with a look of great admiration uttered, Hvad koster det? (What did that cost?). When I told him fifteen crowns, he shook his head at such extravagance, and saying something which far exceeded the bounds of my Norwegian vocabulary, gave me a handshake and went his way.
When the rain ceased and the sun reappeared, we were more than ever charmed with the place, for we then saw the beauty of its surroundings. Across a swift, flowing river before the inn was a range of low mountains flecked with snow; while mountains towered in the rear, enclosing the fertile valley with its fields and farm houses.
In every direction we found pleasant walks; up the valleys extending among the mountains; along the river’s bank by a road winding among fragrant pines and up the mountain sides for the extensive views. But the favorite excursion was to a series of lakes flowing into each other, and forming imposing waterfalls as the water leaped over a high ledge into the lake below, and seethed and foamed as it flowed onward for another plunge.
Several of the guests were sportsmen, who returned at night with a good supply of trout caught in the lakes, and an occasional salmon taken from the river,—which graced the breakfast table.
In these delightful surroundings the days, both sunny and rainy, flew quickly by, and we were prepared to start with new zest for other scenes.