MODERN NORWAY
"Norroway over the Foam," as it used to be called, is a good land to
go to and a beautiful land to look upon. It lies less than two days'
journey from our shores, so it is easy enough to reach. Away from
the towns--and they are not many--everything is picturesque, grand,
and majestic, and the country indeed looks (as the people firmly
believed of it long ago) as if it might have been the playground
of countless giants, who amused themselves by pulling up acres of
land, letting the sea into the valleys, and pelting each other with
mountains and islands. Thank goodness the giants have disappeared! But
if they really did have a hand in fashioning Norway, they are to be
congratulated on the result.
One of the first things one likes to know about a foreign country is
its size. Well, Norway is just a little larger than the British Isles,
and that part of it which forms the usual holiday touring ground of
British and other people--_i.e._, from Trondhjem to the south--is no
larger than England. The remainder of the country consists of a long,
narrow strip running up into the Arctic Circle, and ending in Lapland
in the Far North.
On three sides Norway is washed by the sea; on the other side she
has two neighbours--Sweden from the south right away up to Lapland,
and then Russia.
Now let us see what sort of a land it is. First, there are the fjords,
stretching often a hundred miles or more inland from the sea-coast,
sometimes with delightful fertile shores, at other times hemmed in on
either hand by rocky cliffs rising two or three thousand feet sheer
from the water. Then there are the mountains, which are everywhere;
for, with the exception of Spain, Norway is the most mountainous
country in Europe. And on their summits lie vast fields of eternal
snow, with glaciers pushing down into the green valleys, or even into
the ocean itself. Again, from these mountains flow down rivers and
streams, now forming magnificent waterfalls as they leap over the
edge of the lofty plateau, now rushing wildly over their rock-strewn
torrent beds, until they reach the lake, which, thus gathering the
waters, send them on again in one wide river to the fjord.
Such things lend themselves to create scenery which cannot fail
to charm, and in one day in Norway you may see them all. Take,
for instance, the famous view of the Nærodal from Stalheim, a place
which every visitor to Western Norway knows well. Probably nowhere
in the world is there anything to approach it in grandeur, for not
only are there the great mountains forming the sides of the actual
valley in the foreground, but away beyond appears a succession of
other mountains, stretching far across the Sogne Fjord, even to the
snowy peaks of Jotunheim.
People who live in such a land must needs be proud of it, and the
descendants of the Vikings believe that there exists in the world no
fairer country than their beloved Norge. [1] Maybe they are not far
wrong. But these Northern people are not numerous, and they are not
forced, for want of space, to spoil their landscapes by studding the
country-side with little red-brick cottages, for all Norway contains
not one-half the number of inhabitants found in London. Under such
circumstances the feeling of freedom is great, and the Norwegians
claim that, as a nation, they are the freest of the free. Recent
events would seem to justify the claim. Only the other day Norway
dissolved the Union with Sweden with little difficulty, and of her
own free-will cast herself loose from the light fetters with which,
for nearly a century, she considered that she had been bound.
With Norway time has dealt kindly. In modern ages war has not
ravaged her lands. The oldest living Norseman was born too late to
fight for his country, and it is to be hoped that his grandsons and
great-grandsons may continue to live in ignorance of the horrors which
war entails. Yet are they all prepared to take up arms in defence
of hearth and home, for each able-bodied man serves his time as a
soldier, and doubtless, if occasion should arise, would prove to the
world that the old Viking spirit within him was still alive.
It is, however, the sense of restfulness pervading everything that
is Norway's charm, and even the ordinary bustle of life is unknown
outside the towns. In the summer the beaten tracks of the country
are practically in the hands of the foreign visitors, whose money
helps not a little to support many a Norse family. In the winter
things are different, as, except perhaps in Christiania, very few
foreigners are to be met with, and the Norwegians live their own lives.
The towns are neither numerous nor large, and, with a few exceptions,
are situated on the sea-coast. Perhaps a quarter of the whole
population of Norway is to be found in the towns, the remainder
consisting of country-folk, who live on their farms. What we term
villages barely exist, and the nearest approach to them is a group
of farms with a church in the neighbourhood.
Christiania, the capital of the country, is the largest town, and other
towns of importance are Bergen, Trondhjem, Stavanger, Frederikstad,
Tönsberg, and Christiansand, all busy seaports and picturesquely
situated. But the interest of a country such as Norway does not lie
in the towns, which, with their wide streets, stately buildings,
well-stocked shops, hotels, restaurants, places of amusement, and
crowded dwellings, do not differ very greatly from other European
towns, and a townsman's life in his town is much the same all over
the civilized world.
Town-dwellers in all Norway number no more than the inhabitants of
Manchester, and though force of circumstance necessitates their living
in the towns, their thoughts are ever of the country--of the fjeld,
the fjord, the forest, the mountain lake, or the salmon river. In the
summer nothing pleases them better than to tramp, with knapsack on
back, for days on end, in the wilderness of the mountains, obtaining
shelter for the night at some out-of-the-way mountain farm or at one
of the snug little huts of the Norwegian Tourist Club. In the winter
they have their sleighs, snow-shoes, toboggans, and skates to assist
them in taking air and exercise, and in a Norwegian winter one does
not live in a state of uncertainty as to whether the ice will bear or
the snow be still lying on the ground when one wakes up in the morning.
So comfortable has travelling in Norway been made for foreigners that
there is no difficulty in going anywhere. There is a railway from
Christiania to Bergen, and another from Christiania to Trondhjem. There
are regular steamers on all the fjords and along the coast, even up
to the North Cape and beyond. Wherever there are roads there is a
well-appointed service of vehicles and posting-stations, and wherever
anyone is likely to go by steamer, road, or rail there are hotels.