Norway – Don't hold your breath

Memories of white snow, thoughts of a black future

Less than two months ago, and it now seems to be another world. By all rights this photo of Narvik should look bleak. It was overcast and windy, the temperature was what you expect of the frigid zones of the world. But we were excited by the very thought of being in such a faraway place. The white houses, the snow piled on the ground, even the bleak light were exciting for us. The pandemic disrupted our travels, and it was three years before I took out my passport again. The cost of a flight between India and Europe had approximately doubled in those few years. Another three years on we were beginning to hit our stride again.

But now, I’m holding tickets through Dubai bought in an earlier epoch of history. When I look at alternatives, I find that the prices are close to doubling again. It is a pandemic level change in travels. Travel to Africa and Asia is still possible, so perhaps there are parts of the world which are not cut off. But in India restaurants are failing at pandemic-era rates as cooking gas goes out of the market. I can’t imagine that other places in Asia and Africa will fare much better. Is it time to hunker down again? I should start looking for recipes which require quick cooking.

Ofotfjord

Quickly let’s get the geology out of the way. Ofotfjord is 78 Kms long and 553 m deep at its deepest. The name could refer to the shape of the fjord on a map; its forks look like the talons of an úfr, the locally common Eurasian eagle-owl. The port of Narvik sits pretty far inside the fjord, roughly where the talons begin to fork. The landscape was formed in what is called the Caledonian Orogeny, about 430 million years ago, when the paleo-continents of Laurentia, Baltica and Avalonia collided and created the metamorphic rocks what we see now at the surface. In our times this seam is open again. (If this text confuses you, see this beautiful video of 750 million years of geological history). At the northern end of the continent, tens of thousands of years ago, glaciers began to sculpt the metamorphic rocks, the Caledonian nappe, into the deep valley that we saw.

The weather was extremely changeable that day. The tide was out. We found a beach and walked down to it (it is probably called Langstranda). Herring is common in these waters in winter and mackerel in summer. One indication was the fishing village that we could see in the distance (we visited a different one later). It is said that Orca often enter the fjord to hunt fish, but we couldn’t sight a pod. On the other hand, looking up we saw a White-tailed eagle (Haliaeetus albicilla). Satisfied with this lifer we went on.

The weather kept changing. On one side the finger of the fjord broadened out. I could see a bridge across it at that end, the Hålogaland Bridge. We would take this later. First we crossed over the Rombak Bridge and drove east for a while until we reached the Sildvik waterfall.

The water was frozen into hard blue ice. Three people were climbing this frozen waterfall. We watched as one of them took a few steps up. I noted the equipment needed: crampons, pick axes, helmets and harness. I’d seen different colours of ice, so I walked back to look for examples. It turns out that the rock here has lots of iron. It’s not surprising given the huge seam in nearby Kiruna which has not been mined out in more than 125 years. So I found red ice all along the road. We got back in the car soon, made a U-turn and drove on to Narvik.

This is for Esther: Who takes a rocket any more? You’re shot out of a gun from a planet to a moon, with your oxygen tanks strung on a lanyard behind you. If I’m bored, I crotchet. All I need is in this warlock’s bag.

Narvik drive through

Narvik was the place for our lunch, but we were on a tight schedule. We drove through, stopped at a mall for a quick lunch, and went for another drive through the town. What did we notice? The railroad which brings nearly 70,000 tons of iron ore into the port every day, the port, the ski slope right inside the town, and the fact that we were so far inside a fjord that we could not see the ocean.

We drove past what could be the city hall, and I noticed an advertisement for Narvik 2029. Apparently the town will host the Alpine skiing world championship in three years. A little later I noticed the lit up ski slope that you can see in the featured photo, and connected the two. There was a long queue for a bus: the neighbouring villages are connected by bus.

We noticed little on the drive in, except the vibe of the place. There were lots of two and three storey houses in rows along the main streets at the center of town. The ground floors were shops, as always. There was a church in the distance, we passed a large cemetery, perhaps the war cemetery. At the center of the town, overlooking the railroad that defines the town was a skewed glass tower: the ubiquitous Scandic hotels of this part of the world.

As we drove out of the center we passed taller houses. Again, a very normal phenomenon these days. Children were walking home from school. They seemed to have fun loitering in the snow. The Family shuddered. I thought back to our school days, cycling back from school in broiling sun, and stopping at various places on the road to have a nimboo pani or a sweet. We hadn’t paid attention to the weather either. Hot or cold, once children are used to it, that’s just background.

We drove to a high point overlooking the town. From this vantage we could see a vast expanse of the fjord, and the two branches that surround the town. The open ocean was too far away. In front of our parked car was this sign. Clearly I’m not good at reading Norwegian.

The battles of Narvik

Beginning in 1903 CE, the Iron Ore Line between the baltic port of Luleå and the iron mines of Kiruna in Sweden were extended to the all-weather port of Narvik in Norway. It’s primary use has always been to transport iron ore for trans-shipment. Following a meeting with Vidkun Quisling, Adolf Hitler ordered the invasion of Norway on March 1, 1940. The northernmost objective was the port of Narvik with its trade in iron one. The task force was detected and engaged by the British Navy on 10th of April and a total of 11 ships were sunk on all sides. However, by April 9, Narvik had been occupied. A second naval action on the 13th of April destroyed the remaining German ships. These were decisive naval battles which successfully eliminated a large fraction of the Kriegsmarine, and gave control of the Atlantic to the Allies.

Near the southern foot of the Hålogaland Bridge across Ofotfjord, the fjord on which Narvik sits, we saw two memorial stones. One commemorating the Norwegian resistance to the invasion, and the other the French troops who fell in the land battle here. I had a vague recollection of the history from a movie I’d seen, but it was easy to refresh my memory as we stood in the snow overlooking the fjord.

Initially, largely due to the Norwegian commander Sundlo’s refusal to resist, Germany remained in control of Narvik even though the naval battle was lost. But in April British troops landed, and a large French expeditionary force arrived. A smaller Polish force also joined them. In early May of 1940, this was the only land battle in Europe. The numerical superiority of the Allies forced Germany to withdraw brieifly from Narvik. However, Allied troops were recalled for the battle of France before gaining full control. Germany had control of Norway to the south of the town, and in early June returned in force to occupy the port and town. Norway remained under German occupation until the 8th of May 1945.

At the end of the day we crossed the bridge and stopped at a fishing village on the other side. It was peaceful here, inside the fjord. I took a couple of mood shots, before investigating the shack on the harbour with its open doors. It was a boat house. The other houses nearby were closed and there were no lights on. Was the village deserted? I didn’t think so, but the number of people in Norway is small, so I can’t tell. The village was full of white buildings with only a small number painted red. It was strikingly different from the Swedish aesthetic. The grandfathers of the people who lived here would probably recall the war years.

Sun bun

Our day trip to Narvik was an introduction to the adequate Norwegian lunch. We got decent sandwiches and a tall black tea. Then we decided we also needed a little dessert and a coffee. That was interesting. The Family got a nice long story about the different kinds of breads and buns that you get in Norway, and she took the bakery assistant’s suggestion to try out the seasonal Solboller. The translation of the name is Sun bun, and it seems that it celebrates the end of winter. There was bright sunlight outside, and that early in February, it was a nice crisp ten below zero. So I guess it was the end of winter up there.

That left me with the hard choice of whether to take the same thing or look for something else. I did not feel like having a regular cinnamon or cardamom bun. So I took the fallback option of Solskinnboller, the sunshine bun. Both these buns are made of dough mixed with cinnamon powder and are topped with a custard. The difference is only in the proportions of custard and bread. They rounded off the lunch pretty nicely.

Landscape in high key

A dark and stormy day! That phrase looped through my head as we drove from Sweden to Norway. The phrase was wrong; the world outside the windows of the car was nearly completely white. The snowfall thickened as we crossed the border, but we got out and took our photos on both sides of the border gate. Wouldn’t you do that too if you reached the northernmost border crossing between these two countries? That done, I turned to the landscape. That’s what you see here. Inside the polar circle is an amazing place in this season, and this area is not as cold as you might imagine.