The Happy Wanderer heads South

As there are quite a few glaciers in Norway I thought I ought to visit Briksdale Glacier as it is considered one of the most beautiful and accessible in the fjord country. It was well off the main road, on reaching the car park it was about a two mile walk uphill, there were horse and traps available if you so wished to ride up for the first half of the journey but we decided to walk up all the way. The walk itself was very interesting as there was a raging torrent coming down caused by glacier melt water; we had to cross several times by bridge dodging the spray as we did so. There were also markers every so often stating that the glacier reached here at such and such a date going back hundreds of years.

On reaching the face it amazed me just how dirty they are, they always look so white and clean from a distance. So after the usual photo shots it was the long walk back down dodging the horse and traps which seemed full of mostly Japanese tourists from the cruise ships.

Briksdale Glacier

Leaving the glacier behind it was about a hundred miles to where we drove to another ferry for a two hour trip down through Aurlandsfjorden, Norway’s narrowest and most dramatic fjord. The trip was exciting in itself, as in parts it was extremely narrow with the cliffs each side being more than twice the height of the width, with water falls cascading over the top. Then it arrived at the pretty little village of Flam, where we caught the train for one of the steepest train journeys in the world up a mountain gorge giving panoramic views to a height of 2,800 ft where we arrived at Myidal station then waited for the next train down, the journey itself was fifty minutes each way. I seem to remember being told that the track was built by slave labour during the war, but cannot remember the full details.

After Flam we turned inland and started the long journey home, back down through Sweden, Denmark and into Holland stopping at Arnhem war cemetery and museum in Oosterbeek. I found it so moving walking round the graves of so many young men no older than eighteen and nineteen who gave their lives that we might live in freedom, I just feel that so many of today’s population have forgotten the great sacrifice they made for us, let us never forget that. Without their sacrifice I doubt if I would be able to do all that I do today or all that I have done, see all the beauty that God has given us all to see. Here endeth the lesson.

For their tomorrow, we gave our Today

On a lighter note, I do keep a good photographic record of my journeys; if anyone wants to see them they are available.

Christine Culley