8. Flam and Voss
The night’s journey this time was fairly short as we moved a little further south and on to one of the most visited of the fjord villages, Flam. I should point out here that Flam does not rhyme with spam, but my current keyboard doesn’t include the necessary Norwegian letter to give the appropriate vowel sound – if you have any Scandinavian friends I’m sure they’ll put you right.
Flam is at the centre of an area that the tourist industry terms as ‘
I’d elected to go on another overland, all day trip to try to see as much of the ‘nutshell’ as possible. Of all the trips I’d chosen, this was the only occasion where I made a serious mistake. The day began well enough, very promisingly in fact. One of Flam’s claims to fame is that it’s at the beginning of a well known railway line that climbs sharply up the mountainside and then overland to the town of Myrdal. We assembled in the morning and clambered aboard one of a number of quaint old carriages that were to be hauled up the track by the Flam locomotive.
It was a fascinating journey, the train weaving its way on precarious mountainside track and through dark and very damp tunnels and occasionally stopping at one of the villages that dotted the route. There were some spectacular views which were unfortunately very difficult to photograph from a moving train. There was also one very spectacular station whose platform was built over a big and roaring waterfall at the pleasingly named village of Kjosvossen. Here the train stopped and we were all allowed to clamber out and take snaps, though the vantage point was far too close to get any sort of decent perspective and everyone got damp from the spray. It was a bit of a free-for-all too, with everyone vying for position and getting in each others way.
After this the train continued to Myrdal and we all got out and stood on the platform, not quite sure what to expect next. Two guides appeared at this point, both young women, and informed us that we were going to catch another, more conventional train which would take us to the town of Voss where we’d have time for sightseeing and where we’d also have lunch. This was where things started to go somewhat downhill.
Our next hour was spent on a very boring train journey, mostly via bush or tree or tunnel lined track which afforded very little in the way of views through a somewhat murky window. It was particularly anti-climactic after the Flam railway. We chatted our way through it nevertheless and wondered what the town of Voss would have to offer.
Voss is primarily a skiing resort and is geared up to look after large parties of skiers in the winter months. It’s probably great fun when there’s snow everywhere and the log fires are burning and everyone’s tramping merrily round in their fur-lined boots, cheeks glowing healthily. The flaw in our plan of course was that we were visiting it completely out of season. As the train pulled into the station it was just about 11 a.m. The guides told us that lunch would be at noon, so we had an hour to look round the town.
I decided that I needed a little more information before I set off, so I asked exactly what there was to see in Voss. I was told that there was an old church, a lake and that the shops would all be open. By 11.30 I’d discovered that the church was closed and didn’t look that great anyway, the lake was a very tame affair after what we’d seen in the fjords, and the shops were just what you’d expect of any small town centre – functional in the main apart from a couple of very twee souvenir shops. The worst aspect, however, was that the whole of the town centre was being dug up and re-laid, so there were holes, piles of rubble, road works and workmen everywhere.
At this stage I couldn’t begin to imagine why we’d been brought here. I was very disappointed and a little angry – this was the most expensive excursion on the itinerary and there was nothing to see. I made my way back towards the station and found the hotel, which was more or less next door, where lunch would be served. It was when I entered the hotel that I began to see what had probably attracted most people to the trip.
Not being a skier, or even interested in anything remotely to do with skiing,
I had never heard of Fleischer’s Hotel, which is apparently one of the most
famous in
It was plain that a lot of my fellow travellers had come for a good tuck-in
as the going rate for eating here would probably be a great deal more should
you come of your own accord. There was no doubt that the food was of the
best quality – better than on our ship which was pretty good, and the surroundings
were opulent if you like that sort of thing. I helped myself to some beef
in red wine sauce and sauté potatoes which I must admit was a delicious meal.
I then rather foolishly decided that this would be a good time to try out
some genuine Norwegian beer. Drinks were not included in the price of our
trip, not least because alcohol is notoriously expensive in
Once I’d downed the beer that I now needed in order to get over the shock of its price, I consulted my watch to see how long we had left. There was still an hour and a quarter before the coaches were due to come and move us out of here. I left my fellow diners, most of whom were now stuffing their faces with all sorts of Norwegian desserts and wandered out into the hotel reception area where I proceeded to get increasingly fed up with the wait and the day in general. When I started to think about it, including the hour long train journey we’d made to get here, we’d have spent a total of four hours out of our day just to have lunch in a posh hotel. I made quite sure to use the toilet facilities before we left.
When the coaches finally arrived, we set off for what was basically a scenic drive back to the ship which had in our absence sailed to another fjord village called Gudvangen. We made a few stops along the way, the first being at the reasonably impressive waterfall known as Tvindefossen. It’s probably more impressive in the spring when the snow is melting, but it makes a pleasing sight all the same. The best was saved until last however, when we came to the village of Stalheim which is the point where we began to make our descent to the fjord.
This is a particularly deep one and the road which travels down to it reflects this very well. This was the most ‘white knuckle’ of all the rides we took during the trip without a doubt. How the coaches manage to stay on it I really don’t know, it just doesn’t look possible – and if something comes the other way, the only course of action is for one vehicle to reverse. They tried to reassure us by telling us the story of one driver who began the descent and, on seeing what lay before him, stopped the coach and fled, leaving the passengers to fend for themselves.
Needless to say, the views were really spectacular and there were some impressive waterfalls tumbling their contents through 200 feet or more of fresh air before continuing as river down to the fjord below. We finally arrived safely, though perhaps a little jelly-legged at Gudvangen where the boat awaited us. The village consisted of a hotel, two souvenir shops and about six houses. Having explored this rather rocky and barren hamlet, I returned to the ship eager to tell those who hadn’t been to Voss what they hadn’t missed and to catch up on what I would have seen had I not been unwittingly led to the dubious charms of the Fleischer hotel.
1. Dover
2. Ijmuiden
3. Cuxhaven
4. Bergen
6. Trondheim
7. Olden - the Briksdal glacier
9. Stavanger