Travelog of trip to Norway, summer of 2007: Anders Hove, Elaine Hove, and Glenn Hove

 

Friday, June 29, 2007

My flight took off from JFK’s Terminal 4 roughly on time. It was a smooth, uneventful flight to Amsterdam. The Dutch woman sitting by the window kept taking pictures of the ground as though she were flying for the first time.

Schipol was fairly empty on our arrival. Still, it took over an hour to get through security because I chose the slowest-moving line for the “all passports” category. The plane took off and climbed in a broad circle that gave sweeping views of the Dutch countryside and Schipol’s many active runways far below. Once the plane reached the scudding skies over the North Sea I fell asleep, and didn’t wake up till we were descending towards the Norwegian coast south of Bergen. There were incredible views of the rocky forested islands and aquamarine seas overlaid by low clouds, with the high Norwegian mountains on the far horizon. We landed on the one runway south of town right near the coast.

 

Saturday, June 30

I surprised Dad and Elaine while they were withdrawing money from the ATM in the arrivals hall. We all took out a bit too many kroner—it would be a challenge to get rid of all our cash during the remainder of the trip. The next step was the car rental, which took a bit of time to settle because dad paid with a credit card despite listing Elaine and me as drivers. The car had a keyless ignition—so it was always critical to lock the doors and take the “keys” (actually just a remote unlocking fob) along at all times.

The narrow road took us through some picturesque forested valleys to the little town of Voss, then up into the higher mountain ranges near Stalheim. There were lots of tunnels and placid lakes. We had lunch at a roadside café where we shared a joke with a local truck driver who overheard me commenting on a sign for “ass. brød.”

When we got close to Stalheim I recognized the hotel on a spur of a mountain just before we went through a long tunnel. It was connected to the main highway via a narrow road on one side, and by an incredibly winding and steep road on the other. We checked into our small rooms (on the second floor overlooking the parking lot) and then went and admired a Ford Model A in the driveway. There was an early-model Ford convention taking place that evening at the hotel, so dad periodically went to see what vehicles were coming and going—eventually there were at least 30 of them parked outside.

The view from the hotel certainly lived up to its billing. Dad remembered the old German fortifications from the prior visit: the Germans had built bunkers and pillboxes in case of an Allied attack that never came. That evening we enjoyed a glass of wine and Elaine and I played a game or two of chess. (I had to remind her that she had taught me how when I was a kid.)

In the evening we had an expensive dinner at the restaurant—and we had to wait an hour for the dinner seating despite making a reservation because of the crowd at the hotel. My fish was good but not worth the price we paid, so we agreed to try to do more meals on our own using groceries bought along the way.

 

Sunday, July 1

We had a hearty breakfast buffet of eggs, bacon, cold-cuts and toast the next morning—in fact, it was roughly the same menu every morning for the rest of the trip, which started to make me worried about starting the days that way so regularly. We were back in the car by 8:30 and on our way to Gudvangen, the ferry port. We got there way early for the first ferry at 10:20, so we waited at the large tourist restaurant overlooking the dock and fjord while dad had a coffee.

It was a two-hour ferry ride to Flåm. There were so many waterfalls and high mountain cliffs that after a while one stopped noticing them. Furthermore, it was hard for me to stay awake due to jet lag. Still, the weather was beautiful and there weren’t more than a few dozen passengers on the large ferryboat. We enjoyed speculating what life might be like in the picturesque farmhouses perched on high mountain ledges overlooking the fjord.

The ferry arrived in Flåm just as the tourist train for Myrdal was leaving the station; no doubt the schedule is planned that way to give tourists time to kill shopping and looking around the town. We had a light lunch and departed on the 1:35 train. Unfortunately, we chose the wrong side, and sat in the hot sun away from the windows with the best views, up until the very end of the ride at least when the tracks went over to the other side of the valley. Near the top the train stops at a large roaring waterfall where there is a semi-corny program of two women dancers in folk clothing who walk out on an abandoned building above the falls dancing to siren-song music piped in through unseen speakers.

When the train arrived at Myrdal there was a huge crowd that came out and walked along the platform, but they all got right back on the train to go down leaving us mostly alone in the station. Dad had an ice-cream and then Elaine and I walked down the trail a bit to a spot overlooking yet another rocky waterfall. It was a beautiful day with lots of lovely views of the high mountains and their snowfields.

For the ride down we sat on the left side to take in the view where you can see three tracks at once from inside a snow-shed carved into the sheer rock flank of the mountain. Down at Flåm we bought groceries and had a glass of red wine before boarding the ferry back. Again it was hard to stay awake as the impressive scenery scrolled past—especially since the only other distraction aside from the view was the cookies and other snacks I had in the bag.

Back at Stalheim that night I beat Elaine at chess a couple of times before trying to turn in early.

 

Monday, July 2:

We left the hotel at 9 for Sel. For the first 90 minutes of the drive we were almost completely driving through long 10+ mile tunnels through the high mountains between the fjords—one to Flåm, the next to Laerdal (23 km). From there we took the car-ferry across the Sognefjord, a short but cold crossing. Next the road got curvy and narrow as it wound up the fjord and into the mountains; Elaine had a hand at driving for a while. From there the road climbed steeply into the misty clouds, through a landscape of barren rock and grass, and up to a snowy, desolate mountain pass where we could see glaciers and lakes of snow and ice water. Incredibly, we saw bikers fighting their way up the Sognafjell road as well.

From there the road descended down the hills into Lom, where the famous Stave church is. We had lunch at an informal local place (I had fish again), then drove on towards Sel. Elaine’s driving instructions from the Internet directed us to take a left-turn before reaching Otta. We were both a little surprised to find the route taking us up a steep dirt road used for logging and over a picturesque forested mountain ridge. On the other side we reached the valley of Gudbrandsdal and the town of Sel, which is a small town just by a curve in the railroad tracks.

We turned up the mountain slope on the other side to reach Høvringen and the Øigardseter Fjellstue. (Elaine and I were impressed to see how high the road climbed to reach the seter.) The hotel was beautiful, and there were so many wildflowers all around on the seter. On arrival at the hotel we introduced ourselves to Kari, Arne Hovengen’s wife, who initially thought we were a group of Czech tourists. She told us that Hans Hovengen, Arne’s father, had just died a couple of days before. Arne came in and talked to us briefly, and we decided that given all the family business we should go off on our own for a little while to explore. It was cloudy and a bit windy and rainy, but we had a good half-hour hike along a small creek at the upper part of the loop road on the seter.

That night dinner was especially hearty: we had pork tenderloin and potatoes, just like home. Elaine and I played Chinese checkers and dominoes (Elaine soundly beat me at both) before turning in. Arne and Kari had given us all single rooms overlooking the valley. I woke up several times in the night and it was almost always light outside.

 

Tuesday, July 3:

The next morning at Arne’s suggestion we drove into the Rondane National Park on a dirt road looking for a little path that would give a good panoramic view of the Sel valley. We never quite found the right path (though Arne later said we’d gotten close), but we still had a good time walking around on the rock and heather. It was a cold, blustery day though, so I suggested going back.

At the seter we went to the little side-building to look at the initials carved into the stone wall. Arne pointed out where his son, Hans-Martin, had put his initials, not far from where my grandfather, Hans Anderson Hovengen had put his own graffiti. Dad remembered how his mother had been able to recognize a lot of the more obscure initials on her visit in 1972. We took a group photo and I helped Arne and Hans-Martin move a children’s swing set in the yard.

At noon we went down to Sel and found the old family farm. It was amazing to realize that we’d driven right past it on the way into town the previous day. Ragnhild met us at the door and showed us the inside of the main farmhouse, which both she and her father had in their turns updated with some modern conveniences (like heating, appliances, and an open kitchen) while keeping the historically significant living room, fireplace, and fittings along with the Norwegian style wooden furnishings. Dad talked about how his father had remembered sitting on a bench along the wall late in the evenings with his family, and how the elders told them to keep their legs up off the floor because of trolls. Ragnhild had made a big stack of waffles (served with jam), of which I had at least two thirds to myself while dad and Elaine drank tea and coffee.

We worked for a little while drawing out the family tree—Ragnhild had her own copy, but we filled in our side on a little piece of paper. We also tried to sort out what branch of the family my dad’s mother Clara had come from, the Rostens or the Vaspladsens. Ragnhild suggested we not visit that farm because of a recent death in their family and because the original farmhouse had been torn down anyway. Finally, we reminisced about her visit to the Montana and the U.S. back in 1991 and learned how her sons were doing living in Oslo. It was quite lucky that our visit happened to coincide with her being at the farm. It just wouldn’t have been the same if we had come to look around when the tenant farmers were the only ones in residence.

I learned two very interesting items of trivia: Øigard apparently meant “abandoned farm,” and referred to the fact that the place had been abandoned after the great plague of 1350. Second, in Gudbrandsdal they pronounce “Anders” like “Ahn-desh,” whereas in Copenhagen and Oslo it’s pronounced “Ahn-esh.” At least that was roughly the pronunciation I heard listening to Ragnhild explain it.

After that we had a look around at all of the buildings. One had been turned into a house for the tenant farmers, another storage building had been turned into a bar/entertainment room with funky modern lights shining down onto plain old wooden planks and simple picnic-style furniture. There were three barns: the closest to the house was a nice structure that almost looks like a church or schoolhouse but was actually the stable. Next to that was the modern wheat barn built to store NATO/UN/Canadian wheat 50 years ago—which both Arne and my dad remembered as having a white roof, though that has now rusted to a nice brown. Lastly was the 1700’s-era livestock barn with its double stone wall. Ragnhild said the farm is profitable if its land is combined with some of the others in the area. Still, the tenants she had now were planning to leave and she would be needing some others shortly. As for the rights to the farm, she could sell it, but others in the family would have the right of first offer at a very low price set by the government. She mentioned that the old patrimonial inheritance system had been changed since my grandfather’s time so that the eldest inherits regardless of gender.

Our last activity was to try to re-create the photos dad had taken of Barb and Elaine climbing the little hill in back of the farm. Elaine and I had the photo and we did our best—but we didn’t manage to hike quite high enough to get the perfect angle. From the picture it looks like the biggest change is to the town in the background, which has grown considerably. Still, I was impressed at the number of other historic farm structures in the area.

After saying our goodbyes we drove south to Otta where dad helped us find the white church where the ancestral graveyard is. We spent some time walking among the markers and taking a picture of the gravestone of Anders (my great-grandfather), Marit (great-grandmother), Ragnhild and Asmund (their children). We learned later the gravestone would have to be moved soon since Hans had decided not to be buried there: there is apparently a time-limit on how long markers can stand in the front of the graveyard without additional family-members using the plot.

We drove a little ways on to locate the concrete marker along the road marking where Prillar Guri supposedly helped set the ambush of the Scottish mercenary troops in 1612. The battle took place, but the Prillar Guri story is apparently mostly legend.

Our last stop was the little brown church in Sel, where we saw the grave of Ragnhild’s father Anders, as well as the little graveyard for the British troops who were part of the Green Howards—a commando operation that had fought to delay the German advance in Sel in April 1940. It looked like most of a platoon had been wiped out.

That evening after dinner Elaine and I again settled down to Chinese checkers in the Øigardseter common rooms. Hans’ wife came out to talk to us along with Arne’s sister, who did the translating. She talked about Hans’ last days, how frail he had become, how he enjoyed his last two weeks exploring all his old haunts in the seter and meeting with family. She said she recognized the family resemblance in us.

 

Wednesday, July 4:

The next morning we got an early start (after saying goodbye to Arne and Kari) on our four-hour drive to Oslo. It was a rainy day and a perfect time to depart, especially since the family in Sel were getting ready for Hans’ funeral.

Once we arrived in Oslo it was difficult to find the rental-car agency at the train station. I dropped Elaine at a corner nearby and continued to circle in traffic—getting turned around in the process and almost winding up on a freeway heading out of town. Elaine had her own tribulations inside the train station, which had poorly marked signage for “information” and an unhelpful information booth as well. We finally reunited and located the garage and found the Hertz counter inside. We were anxious because we thought we could make a 1 pm deadline to return the car within three days. In reality, we had taken the car out early and needed to make a 12:00 deadline—and at 1:45 we weren’t even close. The guy at the counter said he had backdated the return by an hour, but later dad’s receipt indicated we’d been charged for four days anyway since the grace period was only 20 minutes or so. All around it was a frustrating couple of hours.

We took a short (but expensive) taxi ride to the Thon Stefan, our modern hotel in Central Oslo. The beds were plush and the lobby stylish—and they had a big set of red hotel umbrellas for the fluky rainy weather that is so common in Oslo. We had a good seafood lunch nearby at an outdoor trattoria, then Elaine and I set off for a subway ride to the Munch Museet northeast of the city center. It was a small, manageable museum with lots of new security. The Scream had not yet been re-hung—it was still in restoration after the recent theft—but there was a good selection of other paintings that showed Munch’s evolution from an Impressionist to an Expressionist. (We learned the latter term from a book on Munch in the museum shop.)

At 6 we met Asbjørn and Ragnhild in the lobby, and they took us to one of the more upscale places in town, the Grand Hotel. We had a good conversation with them about our trip so far (Asbjørn mentioned again his amazement at how little time we were spending in Norway and Oslo in particular), and about our lives in the U.S. We had a delicious meal (monkfish with coriander rice and a lobster sauce), and we enjoyed the delightfully conversational waitress. Dad had some trouble hearing, though.

After dinner we caught a taxi to the Vigeland Park, which is filled with statuary celebrating the range of human life and existence, from infancy to old age. (Though Elaine said I shouldn’t mention that the statuary is nude, this is what Dad remembered and, also, Asbjørn joked that I might be blushing as we walked the line of statues.) It was raining pretty hard, but it was still a good way to spend the early evening. As the rain tapered off on our way back the row of linden trees gave off a pleasant smell. Asbjørn and Ragnhild helped us hail a taxi back to the hotel, and they took a tram line back to their car. (They live in Ski, outside of town.)

 

Thursday, July 5:

The next morning after a good breakfast we headed down to the port area for the ferry over to the Viking Ship Museum, which is located on a island/peninsula on the other side of the harbor. It was a short walk up a hill to the museum, which actually has three Viking ships that were used as burial vessels for aristocratic Norwegians. After returning via the ferry we stopped for a glass of wine and a little lunch at a nice restaurant overlooking the harbor from the second floor. While we were there a downpour started, and we were mesmerized watching the silvery raindrops sliding down the waterproof black awning below us.

That afternoon we wandered into the Oslo city hall to look at the murals and then, on our way back to the hotel, peeked in at the National Museum. We saw the Scream and the Madonna, and also a beautiful 19th century painting of the Stalheim region right where the hotel now stands.

After checking out we headed to the ferry dock for our overnight trip to Denmark. It was a surprisingly long walk through a construction zone before we reached the embarkation point. The ferry was a gigantic vessel, and our four-bunk cabin (which we had to ourselves) was in an interior room near the gangway. We spend a couple hours in the aft café/bar area (the Mermaid Bar), occasionally pulling our chairs back under a canopy when it rained. We’d brought a bottle of red wine and snacks to while away the evening. Once the ferry departed we had a lot of time to kill, first watching Oslo slip into the distance as we made our way through Oslofjord, then watching the fjord gradually widen into open sea as we approached the coast with its pretty lighthouses. Elaine and I had a couple of drinks in the bar while dad napped, and we probably went to bed around 10 just after we’d reached the open seas of the Skaggerak.

 

Friday, July 6:

I slept surprisingly well. By the time we were up the ferry had already passed Helsinøre and was approaching Copenhagen. The breakfast area was busy but we found a table without a problem.

It was raining, so we didn’t miss much as the ship pulled into its berth just north of town. We waited for the crowds to disembark, then packed up quickly and walked ashore, where we hailed a taxi for a quick ride to the Admiral Hotel. Our taxi driver laughed at the fact that we three squeezed into the back seat rather than sitting in front, and he talked about how the hotel was so close to the Amalienborg palace that one could see the queen in her apartments from some of the rooms. The hotel was modern and sumptuous with its softly-lit, thickly carpeted interiors, exposed brick, and the heavy beam construction reflecting its past as a grain warehouse.

We walked through the courtyard of the Amalienborg palace in the rain, then went on to the Resistance Museum, which had a fascinating display of exhibits from the Nazi Occupation. We had lunch at Oscars, a feel-good working lunch place populated by local people and outsiders in business dress. I learned that the Danes said, “hi hi,” to say “bye.”

Next we walked down the pedestrian tourist street in the center of town followed by a guided tour of Christianborg palace. We learned about alternation between Christians and Frederiks in royal line. The tradition had been for each Frederik to name his firstborn son Christian, and vice-versa—but since there had been two Christians early on the system always resulted in moving backwards and forwards in the numbering scheme—i.e. Christian X would be followed by Frederik IX, then by Christian XI. The current, much-loved queen, Margrethe II, has unraveled the problem by “doing two in a row”—i.e. by naming her son Frederik. He will become Frederik X, and from then on (assuming cooperation of future monarchs) the system will be easy to remember.

We walked back via the town hall and mobbed pedestrian street, and shopped for a while in the Magasin department store. Later we had drinks at a local pub while resting our feet after looking for a sushi restaurant I’d seen advertised in the literature they had passed out when we boarded the ferry. The restaurant proved to be across the street, though we had to sit near the door because they were fully booked (despite being empty when we arrived). The sushi was fantastic, but I ate a bit too much.

 

Saturday, July 7:

The next morning after breakfast we walked through the pretty earth fortified ramparts and historic military barracks just north of the hotel and visited the famous Little Mermaid. From there we walked inland and waited for the train to Helsinøre. It was a 50-minute train ride, during which time Elaine and I worked on Sudoku puzzles in the onboard magazine. (It was simple to solve the “hard” puzzle but we only managed to solve the “easy” one on the ride back.)

It was drizzling but pleasant in the little town of Helsinøre, which was in easy distance of the Swedish coast on the other side. The interior rooms were filled with a hodge-podge of historic paintings and gaudy, low-quality modern art. (Elaine was particularly critical of two gigantic glowing balls hanging in a royal bedroom and a broken plastic sword and shield hanging in a grand ballroom between two chandeliers.) After looking at the rooms we had a bizarre little walk through the dank and almost unlit dungeon—at the end of it, none of us could figure out why anyone would want to walk down there in the first place (there was nothing to see). We walked out to have a final view by the guns overlooking the straight before getting lunch in a newish café built in one of the castle’s outbuildings. I had cookies, Dad had coffee and egg salad, and Elaine had a burger which she shared with me. Dad also had a Danish; Elaine had joked with him that being in Denmark was the perfect excuse to get a Danish at every meal.

Back in Copenhagen we walked just a little further on to the National Art Museum, where we had less than half an hour before closing time. Still, I saw some nice Danish artwork and took a photo of what Elsinøre looked like when its tolls were the chief source of revenue and main residence of Danish kings. After the museum we walked through a splendid palace flower garden on the way back to the hotel.

For our last activity of the day, Elaine and I took a brisk walk to the south side of town along the original earthen ramparts. We saw an interesting spiral church steeple and some really modern buildings along the main canal, but the ramparts were a little disappointing since they were overgrown with grass and you couldn’t get a sense of the overall design from walking on top. Still, it was a good pleasant walk.

That evening we had dinner at Oscars and dessert in a tourist restaurant along the scenic New Canal near our hotel before retiring to the bar for a little while. We all agreed that we’d had enough time to see the sights in each of the places we’d visited—though it would have been nice to spend more time with the family at another time. (Also, I didn’t get to see any of Bergen.)

 

Sunday, July 8:

Dad and Elaine had breakfast with me at the hotel and we said our goodbyes, then I took a taxi to the airport. It was a nice clear day. The flight took off with a modest delay, and landed in Amsterdam with no hitches. (I passed through Amsterdam just a few hours after Leon, who was there for a conference.) I had a remarkably poor spaghetti Bolognese at the Schipol airport brasserie, then stood in a long series of lines to board my flight to JFK. Again it was an uneventful flight, and we arrived on time at 3:45 or so at JFK. I was back in hot and humid Harlem by about 4:50 pm. Dad and Elaine returned to the U.S. without incident the following day.

 

 

 

Notes from talking to dad at Stalheim about the family history:

Ragnhild Hovengen is the oldest daughter of Anders Hovengen, son of Asmund Hovengen and grandson of our ancestor (my great grandfather) Anders Hovengen. The Øigard/ Øverbø farm has been in their family for generations. My grandmother’s father, Thor Øverbø, inherited it. My grandfather’s father, Anders Hovengen, was a forester in the same area who bought a small farm nearby. Thor and Anders, who were good friends, both mortgaged their farms, and invested in something with a third party—maybe they got conned. The investment went bad, probably in the mid or late 1880’s. Iver Rosten, possibly a brother of Thor Øverbø’s wife, had a homestead of 160 acres about a mile east and a mile south of Audubon, Minnesota. Iver wanted to go back to Norway, so Thor Øverbø decided to emigrate and took his homestead. Anders Hovengen’s sister married an English earl. This earl felt sorry that Anders had lost his farm and offered to buy back for him, but Anders suggested he buy the better Øverbø farm instead. So that’s why Hans Hovengen grew up in the same farm as my grandmother Clara Øverbø’s father.

Hans Hovengen came to America in 1901-2. He was 16 or 17 and due to primogeniture he wasn’t going to inherit anything in Norway. He traveled to America with Iver Rosten. His dad told him that his best friend lived near Audubon, Minn., “so go live there until you learn the language.” Hans landed in Canada and went across Canada until he was north of Havre, Mont., then turned south. There were no hotel rooms in Havre, but the local policeman was Norwegian and offered the two immigrants a room in the jail. They spent the first summer traveling to farms and ranches building stone foundations for buildings. Eventually they wound up at the farm in Audubon. Thor Øverbø had a 12-year-old daughter, Clara—dad has a photo of Thor pulling her on a sled. Anyway, Thor, Iver, and Hans ended up working on the NP with the track department putting in double track. Hans hurt his back unloading ballast cars: in those days, ballast cars emptied via side-openings, and there was a wooden ledger that pulled through the cars with great force to get all the ballast out. Sometimes these ledgers would get stuck and give way, and once a ledger hit Hans and broke his hip. While he was on the mend he would kill time by sitting in on trials, and even thought of becoming a lawyer.

Instead he went up to Saskatchewan to work at a logging operation. Dad has a picture of him as a “feller,” with an axe to put a notch in the tree to determine which direction it would fall. Next he homesteaded near Cereal, Alberta. He got good crops for a while. He had the pick of the land, and he decided he didn’t want land too close to the mountains because of frost, and didn’t want land too far because it would be too dry. But it was the wrong choice. In fact, the area close to the Rockies gets rain, as does Saskatchewan, but the area in between is dry.

Hans came back to Winnipeg to marry Clara. For their honeymoon they visited Stillwater prison, a fact she complained about ever after. He was a good carpenter and built a two-stall garage for the store plus a workshop for when the business was slack after the morning rush. (Once, when dad clipped the frame of the garage door with the Model A, Hans was less interested in the damage to the car than how the garage had held up.) He build tables including the one in our house in Montana.

At the farm in Sel there are three homes. Whenever an ancestor got enough money they built themselves a new house. One building (the horse stable) has a weather vane with the date. In 1972 Dad stayed in the second floor of the other house, which had no indoor plumbing at the time. Anders lived in the main house then. When Anders lived there he wanted to put in a furnace for heating, but he couldn’t since it was a national historic site. To prevent him from going forward, the government opted to put it in at their own expense.

The system at that time was that the eldest son inherits everything. At the time of their earlier visit to the U.S. Ragnhild lived in Oslo with her husband and (as Dad remembers) she didn’t want to inherit the farm. Anders died in 1995 about. He understood that if the farm didn’t stay in the family, the government would take over.

Grandma Øverbø was a Rosten and she lived in another house they visited on a prior visit. (We later determined this was the Vaspladsen farm.)

The seter: in the olden days farmers sent cattle to the top of the mountain for the grass in the summertime. There were milkmaids up there who made cheese—there was no refrigeration. (Clara said that Hans “had a lot of fun” up on the seter visiting the milkmaids back in his youth.) When Asmund inherited the farm and the seter he built a hotel up there for tourists, as did other people. When Anders inherited, he wasn’t interested in the hotel, so he gave that (or sold it) to Hans. Anders inherited sometime in the 1950’s.

 

 

Dad’s original trip to Norway in 1972:

Flew into Oslo and stayed there two nights.

Took the train to Lillehammer. Met the widow of dad’s brother Knut and stayed there one night.

Took the train to Bødø at the end of the line and stayed two nights due to an airline strike against hijackings, which were just beginning at that time. Saw the big whirlpool there.

Flew to Tromsø and rented a car and drove north to Alta to see the midnight sun.

Next day drove back to Tromsø and flew to Trondheim, where spent two nights.

Rented a car and drove to the farm in Sel where they stayed three nights.

Drove to Bergen via Stalheim and stayed in Bergen for two nights. Grandma was sick so they took the train back to Oslo.

Everything was pre-planned with reservations except for one night in Alta. All reservations were made by letter or by relatives in Norway.