Geilo, Norway - August 8-13

(Bill)

From Oslo we took a train four hours northwest to Geilo (pronounced Y-eye-low), Norway. Geilo is mid-way between Oslo and Bergen on the famous Oslo-Bergen Railway. The train route is famous for its beautiful landscape – forests, national parks, hills, valleys, meadows, lakes, fjords, rivers, glaciers, wildflowers, and waterfalls. It did not disappoint. At one point Victoria and I were staring out of the window enjoying a wildflower covered meadow when two horses ran next to and with the train, manes billowing. I said it was like “Bonanza”, Victoria felt it was more like a fairytale.

Geilo is a small, quaint mountain town known for its active, outdoor lifestyle and quiet, family atmosphere. It reminded us of Mammoth, California, less 9,000 feet of altitude, with its A-framed cabins, relaxed atmosphere, and homey restaurants, of which there were four. The town is nestled in a lake valley between two pine and silver dollar tree (Aspens) covered hills, both with small ski resorts. Victoria and I were looking forward to getting away from cities and museums for a while so Geilo was a great way for us to relax and enjoy nature – something we always look forward to.

On our first full day in Geilo we rented mountain bikes and rode around the lake that covers much of the valley floor. The trail took us passed seemingly deserted farms, a few families fishing, trickling creeks, bustling rivers, and grazing and baaaahing sheep. Towards the end of the 5 mile ride we found an empty golf driving range tucked against the lake. There were some ancient practice clubs calling our names so we made ourselves comfortable, rounded up some balls from out in the range and helped ourselves to a few practice swings. The first thing I noticed when we stood on the practice mats was the beautiful green hilly backdrop into which we were hitting – again reminded me very much of Mammoth (actually Bishop Country Club). Although the swings were admittedly pathetic, the setting was memorable.

On our second full day in Geilo we decided to check one of the boxes off of our trip wish list and went white water rafting. Not the sissy, tour guide, scenic, hot dog and potato salad picnic rafting trip. This was a serious category 4 out of 5 rafting excursion and something I will never forget. The company we went with was called Serious Fun – a bit hokey but looking back it is the perfect description for the day.

We boarded a rickety old bus in the town and drove 15 miles up into the mountains to the town of Dagali (pronounced dog-a-lee by some and da-ga-lee by others). There were about 25 or so other tourists, mostly from Europe with a Japanese bunch to round out the melting pot, with us on the trip. When we reached the town we stripped down wherever we could find a spot, slipped into wet, cold wetsuits and wet, cold booties, grabbed a helmet and a life vest and set off on another short bus ride with our rafts in tow to the starting point. After a short, funny, yet serious safety discussion, which would come in handy later, we were split into groups of seven including one guide. Splitting us up reminded me of the kickball selection process at lunch in elementary school – you were just hoping, hoping, hoping not to get stuck on the sucky team. Victoria and I were paired with a 6’5” 300 pounder built like a tree and his “stable” wife from Holland, two spry looking older Norwegian ladies, and a young male Norwegian guide. Initially we were pumped as we looked at the remaining pool and thought how things could have ended up.

And so we were off. Unfortunately by the first set of easy, starter rapids Victoria and I found out that our initial thoughts about our team were dead wrong. The guy from Holland who was built like a bear and was supposed to be our ace wanted to talk and make jokes more than paddle. He was worthless. His wife actually turned out to be relatively strong but froze up after she went over the boat and ripped the bottom out of her wetsuit. And the two spry looking senior ladies turned out to be pretty marginal as well, paddling as if they were going to hurt the water. (Mom – Don’t get upset. These weren’t the 58 going on 30 year old types like you. I know you would have made me proud out there). And then there was our “expert guide”…who, besides falling out of the raft on three out of four sets of crazy waterfall rapids, scared the lights out of us when he was asking the lead rafting guy how to navigate the first section. Anyway, one thing I learned is that Victoria may only weigh 100 pounds but she can paddle like a steam engine. She was by far the star paddler and together we picked up the slack for the other five – I hope they enjoyed the scenery. This is all self-proclaimed I know, but that is one of the benefits to writing your own journal. Oh, and I fell out of the raft along with the guide on one of the rapid sections, opting to go over the falls and boulders with my thigh and butt instead of in the raft. I’m still complaining about the deep bruise in my thigh and poor Victoria has to listen to it all the time. I’ll never forget looking up from falling off the raft to see the horror on Victoria’s face trying to reach out with her paddle to save me as she is going over the rapids in the raft – priceless!

Oddities or Things We Noticed

(Bill and Victoria)
Meatballs – Every country has their own meatballs. I’ve had Greek, Danish, and now Norwegian meatballs. All a little different, but all good.

Weather is still chilly, but only one day of rain. And the sun feels great when it comes out.

The water in the rivers in Norway is so clean you can drink right from the source. I was surprised when our “expert” rafting guide took a hand cup full and drank it, but when I tried it myself it was amazing. Cold, crisp, and clean. In one section of the rafting trip, where Victoria and I decided to take a swim, we were swimming with our mouths open drinking the water.

The ski areas around Geilo are much smaller and lower than we are used to in California. The two resorts in the town had 4 lifts each and the hills were no higher than 3,000 feet above sea level.

Norwegians are laid back, out for a good time, and athletic…Viking roots I guess.

Trolls: While we were moose hunting (watching, not shooting) our guide stopped and very seriously passed around “troll hair” – a cluster of thick, black, wiry hair. Apparently, according to the guide, they are very mean creatures.

Grass topped houses: Many of the houses in the area have roofs that are made of long, wild grass. Historically the purpose was for insulation, but now houses are built this way for tradition and decoration. We even saw a dog house with the grass roof just like the larger people version. They blended in with the hills and it was nice to look at a hill with houses and not even notice them.

Moose are enormous! And Moose sausage tastes kind of funny. No, Victoria did not partake.