Copyright by Underwood & Underwood, N. Y.
Across the Glassy Geirangerfjord.
My purpose in this letter, Judicia, is not to take you on the “best trip in Norway,” or indeed on any trip. Countless trips have been carefully planned and then as carefully written up for the assistance of future travelers and for the benefit of tourist agencies. I shall simply take you as though you were a chessman and put you on whatever spot I choose. I hope you will not rebel at such autocratic treatment, for I shall try to make the best moves I can. If you suddenly find yourself moved from one fjord or dal to another without the assistance of steamer or train or Norges Communicationer, or anything but pure imagination, I hope you will accept the move in good faith. You know it’s yours as a reader not to question why, yours not to make reply, etc. I hope the places I describe will be their own reply.
Geiranger (please consult a map if you would know where it is) is probably oftener described and more praised than almost any other fjord in Norway, though it seems to me absolutely impossible to pick out any single fjord for first prize. Perhaps Geiranger would not receive so much attention were it not for its famous “Seven Sisters” and “Pulpit Rock.” The Seven Sisters are seven branches of a waterfall which drops hundreds of feet sheer into the fjord. As was the case with Bergen and its hills, it is an unfortunate, prosy, geographical fact that there are only four real branches to the waterfall; but three little wisps of spray up at the top separate slightly and give a somewhat plausible pretext for the name. Directly opposite the Seven Sisters is a projecting rock of most striking appearance, which would make an excellent pulpit if the preacher desired to address a vast audience of screaming sea gulls, but the pulpit is so high in air and so inaccessible that any other audience would be impossible.
There is one house which occupies a nook on the side of one of these lofty cliffs in Geiranger Fjord in such an inaccessible spot that formerly the only method of reaching it was by a rope, lowered by a member of the household. More recently, however, a flight of steps has been cut in the rock. It is often said that at some of these little houses the children are tethered, in order to prevent their falling down into the fjord.
Before I go any farther, Judicia, I must tell you something about the Norwegian fjords in general. Like so many other portions of the globe, Norway traces its peculiar formation to the grinding, irresistible glaciers of the ice age. While the actual coast line of Norway is about seventeen hundred miles, the distance is increased to twelve thousand if all the indentations are added, so that the fjords alone have a coast line which would stretch nearly halfway around the world. Also some of them are very deep, the Sogne showing a depth of nearly a mile in some places far inland. There are several fjords which stand out with particular prominence, not that they are necessarily finer than others, but because they are more accessible. The most southerly fjord to achieve fame is the Hardanger; then, going north, the Sogne, the Nord, the Hjörund, the Geiranger, and the Molde. One author, who signs himself O. W. F., thus vividly contrasts the great Hardanger and Sogne: “… whereas the mountains of the Sognefjord are knit together in mighty knots, those of Hardanger shoot in straight, slim peaks from the bottom of the fjord, higher and higher, until at last they end in glittering glaciers. Whereas the Sognefjord is wild, Hardanger is deep blue and tranquil.”
But the Nordfjord is not like either. The mountains do not rise continuously to a lofty tableland, but at intervals, in sharp, isolated peaks. No fjord is quite like another, and I cannot sympathize with the tourists who complain that Norwegian scenery, even in its grandeur, is monotonous. Of course to some unfortunate traveler who craves some new excitement every day Norway may be a dull country after he has once seen two or three of the fjords. They will all look alike to him, and some of these calm retreats like Marok will be unendurable.
Marok is a center for some of the most delightful excursions in Norway. A fifteen-mile boat ride and then a fifteen-mile drive to Oie will take you through one of the most varied and beautiful scenes that the imagination can picture. It is inspiring, no less in the mountain walls that rise on the Geiranger than in the smiling, sunlit Norangdal, which leads from Hellesylt to Oie.
Midway in this Norangdal a landslip occurred in 1908. It carried away a part of the road and formed a new lake by damming up the river. When the water of this new-born lake is clear, the roofs of the submerged houses of the old village may be plainly seen. There is something uncanny in the thought that a skillful swimmer might dive far below the water’s surface and swim into the garret window of any one of these former habitations.