The Hindu Business Line : Fjord fusion

The dictionary defines a fjord as a long, narrow strip of sea between high cliffs. But this definition does little justice to the enthralling beauty, charm and spectacle presented by this wondrous creation of Nature. We set off from the mouth of the f jord at Flam and travelled all the way to Bergen, a bustling and vibrant town on the west coast of Norway. In order to reach Flam, we first took a train from Oslo to Myrdal.

At Myrdal we boarded a tiny train operated by the Flamsbana Railways. It felt like ‘Paradise on Wheels’! The train has barely six bogeys and the décor inside is bright orange, with spacious seats that resemble mini-thrones. As the train pulls out of the station, we were greeted warmly over the P.A. system and promised a memorable ride on the Flamsbana. We were informed that the 20-km journey would take 55 minutes. This was one of the steepest railway lines in the world — a descent of 865 metres, through 21 tunnels.

After about 20 minutes, the announcer said we were approaching one of the loveliest sights en route — the Kjosfossen waterfall — and we could alight to click photographs. We stood on a platform, gazed at the breathtakingly beautiful waterfall and posed for photos before boarding the train again. The snow-crested mountains, the yawning ravines, the flurry of waterfalls and the mountain farms dotting the landscape made for an exquisite vista.

Ramendra Kumar

A cafe designed to look like a train at Flam, Norway

Flam turned out to be even better than we had imagined. Situated in the innermost part of the Aurlandsfjord, a tributary of the Sognefjord, Flam is charming and unspoiled like a cherubic child. This picturesque little town snuggles among the hills on the edge of the sea.

As we walked from the tiny railway station towards our hotel we had our first glimpse of the fabled fjord. We stood, luggage and all, completely mesmerised. Huge mountains loomed ahead like benign monsters and between them nestled the sea — the clear, azure waters offer a picture of serenity. It was quiet, as if Nature itself had paused to wonder at the captivating beauty of its creation.

At the hotel, we awoke the next morning to catch the sun rising between the mountains, its rays — golden brown and ochre — creating iridescent patterns on the blue waters, with the lush green landscape adding yet another nuance to the magnificent collage.

We went exploring and came upon the Fjord Park with stones dating as far back as 6000 B.C. Prehistoric paintings of deer hunts and animal herds have been recreated in topiary sculptures using rose bushes.

There were several interesting-looking restaurants and cafes on the other side of the railway station. One café was designed like a train while another looked like a conundrum. A souvenir shop inside the railway station offered everything from jewellery to handicrafts, clothes to cosmetics, stuff made from skin of fox, wolf and even seal and yak, and keepsakes galore.

At one of the restaurants we watched a 20-minute film on the fjords. The auditorium with seating for 200 had just the two of us occupying it. The film was riveting and we watched in thrall as nature cradled the fjords through the four seasons.

An hour of lounging in the sun and sea and we were ready to embark on our tryst with the fjord.

The ferry picked up speed and some minutes later the Captain swerved the boat a little and pointed to us waterfall. It was just a trickle when compared to the Kjosfossen but still worth a look. A few kilometres along the fjord, the Captain asked us to keep our eyes open for a possible glimpse of a friendly neighbourhood seal or two. But we were not so lucky, after all. By now we had been travelling for almost an hour. The boat was going at 80 kmph, the temperature was 2 degrees Celsius and the wind blew at breakneck speed. My wife Madhavi was clad like an Eskimo while I was dressed like Santa Claus, and yet the chill was almost unbearable. The icy wind cut through the layers of clothing to reach our very bones. Our exposed faces and palms felt like they had been placed on ice slabs. Yet, as the beauty of nature unfolded layer by exquisite layer, we forgot all about the chill and truly chilled out. As the mountains on either side raced to meet us, we thought the narrow waters of the fjord would lead to the expanse of the sea. However, just as we reached the shadows of the cliffs the fjord turned to reveal yet another range of mountains and the turquoise-blue sea floating gently between them.

Madhavi couldn’t brave the cold any longer and ducked inside the warmth of a cabin. But I was determined not to miss a single speck of the splendour in front of me and braved on with cotton in my ears and a muffler around my head.

The boat stopped at a few towns perched between the harbours and the hills — clusters of houses arranged on the verdant slopes, tiny farms and quaint railway stations. Towards evening, as the golden rays of the sun turned orange and the sky began to darken, the waters reflected back yet another kaleidoscope of colours. The effect was almost surreal.

As we neared the end of our journey, we fought with feelings that were mixed. On the one hand, there was euphoria that we had experienced during one of the most enchanting journeys in the world, while on the other, there was sadness that it would be just a once-in-a-lifetime experience.