Norwegian Life / An Account of Past and Contemporary Conditions and Progress in Norway and Sweden

by Unknown

Norway has only one mile of railway for every one hundred square miles of land; but the mountainous character of the country, the heavy snowfall during the long winters, and the thin, scattered population make railway construction almost prohibitive. Nevertheless, the new kingdom has made a commendable beginning, and the state has plans for enormous extensions during the next twenty-five years. There are now nine railway lines in the country, with a total mileage of one thousand five hundred and eighty-four, but half of which is broad gauge. The state railways have been constructed partly by subscriptions taken in the districts interested in the construction of new lines, and partly at the expense of the national government.

The leading railway lines radiate from Christiania to Stockholm, Goteborg, Trondhjem, Gudbransdal, Telemarken, and the Valders. The longest line—three hundred and fifty miles—is from Christiania to Trondhjem through Hamar. There is also a relatively long line—one hundred and ninety miles—from Christiania up the Gudbrandsdal by Lake Mjosen and through Lillehammer to Otta. In 1906, the Valders railway, connecting Christiania with Fagernaes—a distance of one hundred and thirty-one miles—was opened. This connects with the most important of the new roads being built, the one from Christiania to Bergen. This road will reach entirely across the country, from Christiania on the Swedish frontier to Bergen on the Atlantic coast, thus making connection between the two largest cities of Norway, journeys between which are now only possible by steamships and carriages, consuming from three to six days.

The new road goes through the mountains and presents many engineering difficulties. Two-thirds of the way the roadbed must be cut out of the mountain side, and there is a tunnel three miles long at a height of two thousand eight hundred and twenty feet above the sea level. The snow in the winter is so heavy that it will be necessary to cover the tracks with sheds for a distance of nearly sixty miles. The construction is not only difficult, but expensive, and although the distance is but three hundred and ten miles, it will be one of the most costly railroads ever built. Sixty-seven miles of the line between Bergen and Vose, on the western coast, is already in operation, and it is a favorite journey of tourists, for the scenery is superb, although the traveler is in a tunnel one-tenth of the entire distance. There are forty-eight tunnels in all. A shelf has been hewn and blasted along the side of the mountains that encloses the celebrated Sorfjord.

The Norwegians call a railway a jernbane, literally "an iron path." Their cars are made on the conventional European pattern, and are light and comfortable. They are furnished with toilet rooms, and run smoothly and noiselessly. Most of the trains are equipped with Westinghouse brakes, steam heat, and electric lights. The trains run very slowly. Economy is studied in this respect, as in every other. There is a certain speed—say, fifteen or eighteen miles an hour—which can be maintained at a minimum consumption of fuel, and the Scandinavian railway managers have figured it down to a dot. They can haul a longer train a greater distance with a ton of coal than any other engineers, and the most scrupulous attention is applied to every feature of management, the tracks, the rolling stock, the station, the crossings. The crossing-keepers are usually women. A large number of that sex are employed by the railways.

The stops at the stations seem unnecessarily long to impatient Americans, but the time is utilized by the leisurely passengers in drinking big goblets of beer, and by the conductor in parading up and down the platform so that the patrons of the road can have an opportunity to admire his radiant uniform and fine shape. In Scandinavian countries the best-looking men seem to have been selected for railway conductors and policemen, and their deportment is decidedly different from what we are used to in America. If you ask a question of a Norwegian policeman, he will bring his heels together, give a military salute, and stand in the attitude of attention like a soldier while he answers. He usually understands English, too, and those who can not are remarkably accurate guessers, and all take a friendly interest in your inquiries instead of giving you a short answer and a cold shoulder like the policemen in our cities. They will walk to the corner to point out the house in the middle of the next block if that is where you want to go, and when you thank them for their attention, you get another salute that makes you feel as big as a major general, or as if you had been mistaken for a member of the royal family. Railway conductors are equally polite, and seem to understand that it is a part of their business to protect tender-footed travelers, as angels always look after good little boys.

In southern Sweden there is scarcely a parish without a railway, and in the northern part of the kingdom, where the railway facilities are limited, posting stations are maintained by the government similar to those in Norway. There is a railway running as far north as the 67th parallel of latitude, about fifty miles beyond the polar circle into Lapland, to the famous mines of Malmberget, with a branch to Trondhjem, Norway. The line follows the coast of the Gulf of Bothnia very closely, through a country well covered with small pine timber, which was being rapidly stripped until the government interfered by passing rigid regulations and appointing foresters to enforce them.

You can see the midnight sun from several places on this railway, anywhere above 66 degrees and 33 minutes of latitude, from the 9th of June to the 3d of July, and farther north for a longer period. At Gellivare the midnight sun can be seen regularly from June 5 to July 11, and it is a much more convenient and quicker journey than to the North Cape and other polar resorts in Norway. During that period a traveler is reasonably certain of seeing the sun at all hours of the day as long as he cares to stay, while over in Norway that privilege is rare and uncertain, owing to the fogs and clouds that obscure the horizon sometimes for days at a time. But there is nothing else to call the tourist to this part of Sweden, for the scenery is monotonous and uninteresting and the facilities for travel are primitive and the tourists are few.

Everybody who has taken the trouble to make the journey, of course, advises other people to do the same, and insists that it is worth the time, money, and fatigue it costs, on the same principle as the fox that lost his tail in a trap wanted all the other foxes to cut off their tails. There is one train each way daily, but it runs very slowly,—about fifteen or eighteen miles an hour,—and stops a long time at the stations. The cars are comfortable. The road belongs to the government, and was built in the '90's for the transportation of ore from the iron mines, which was previously hauled by cart in summer and reindeer sledges in winter, to the ports of Lulea and Allapen, a distance of about one hundred and forty miles.

When it is recalled that two-thirds of the inhabitants of Norway live upon the coasts and fjords, the large part which water traffic plays in the economy of the country will be easily understood. The coast being well protected by a chain of islands, the skjaergaard, both travel and commerce are carried on by means of small open boats. The fjord rowboats, as a rule, are light and pointed, with upright and high prow, and they carry a square sail. They are light to row, and they go capitally before the wind. There is an extensive government posting system on the coasts, fjords, and inland lakes, similar to that along the public highways already described. The tariff from fast stations for a four-oared boat and sail with two rowers is about twelve cents a mile; eighteen cents for three rowers and a six-oared boat, and twenty-four cents a mile for a boat with eight oars and four rowers. The tariff is decided by the size of the boat and not by the number of passengers. The rowers are not infrequently girls and women.

The large fjords and lakes have ample steamboat facilities, the coast service between Bergen and Trondhjem being especially good. The navigable channels of the fjords represent a coast line of twelve thousand miles, and they are so entirely separated from the sea by islands and reefs and obstructed at their entrances by old moraines, that the fresh water from the melting snows and rivers lies four or five feet deep on the surface. Small steamers ply on all the larger fjords on which the rates are moderate and the accommodations fair. On most of these boats a passenger pays full fare for himself and half fare for the other members of his family, including his wife. Persons who want to see the fjords of Norway thoroughly should take the regular mail steamers, which call at all small ports and take a month instead of a week for the voyage. The boats are small, but clean and comfortable, and only occasionally have bad weather—very seldom in summer. They wind in and out of the narrow passages, and because of their size can navigate where the larger tourist steamers are not able to go, and therefore the passengers on the latter miss some of the finest scenery.