DRIVING IN NORWAY
Like Switzerland, Norway has splendid roads. No difficulty in
road-making seems to be too great for the Norwegian engineers to
overcome. One frequently sees miles of road cut out of the solid
rock of some mountain-side, and skirting the edge of a fjord or
long lake. Again, a road may wind its way through a narrow gorge,
with precipices a thousand feet high on either hand, and down in the
depths a wild torrent, crossed every here and there by massive stone
bridges; or, over the open mountains a road will zigzag upwards to
a pass in long loops, like the famous "Snake Road" near Röldal.
And the surface of all these roads is hard and kept in good repair--at
any rate, in the summer months. In the winter they are, of course,
thick in snow, which, when beaten down by the sleigh traffic, forms
a new surface, which takes the wear and tear off the actual roadway
for several months.
But we are now writing of the summer, after the snow has all melted,
the snow-ploughs put on one side, and the roads recovered from the
havoc wrought by the streams of melting snow. Then the sleighs have
been hidden away in the innermost recesses of barns and outhouses,
and the driving season begins.
Driving is one of the greatest enjoyments of Norwegian travel, though
too much of it is perhaps wearisome. The best plan is to arrange a
tour, so that some of it shall be by railway, some by steamer, some
walking, and some driving, and this is generally easy to manage. The
particular charm of driving is that the traveller can take his own
time, go his own pace, and stop when and where he chooses. In this
manner the scenery is capable of being more fully appreciated.
Until quite recently there were very few railways in Norway, and there
are not many now. There are, however, plenty of excellent roads,
and a well-organized system of posting. The posting-stations are
situated about ten miles apart, and consist usually of a small inn
or farmhouse, where the traveller can demand food and lodgings, as
well as a change of conveyance and horses. The _skydsgut_ (literally
post-boy, but frequently an old man, or even a woman), accompanies
the conveyance from his station to the next, and returns with it,
though nowadays it is more usual to engage a vehicle (if not also a
horse or pony) for a whole day's journey, which has the advantage of
avoiding the perpetual rearrangement of one's luggage.
There are four kinds of conveyance in general use: the _calèche_, drawn
by a pair of horses, and something like a heavily-built victoria;
the _trille_, a light, four-wheeled trap with two horses; and the
_stolkjærre_ and the _carriole_, the last two being the most popular
and convenient vehicles for quick travelling.
The _stolkjærre_ is a rough, box-like cart, with a seat for two
persons, and another little seat behind for the _skydsgut_. It has
the advantages of ample room for luggage, and economy when travelling
two together, the hire of one _stolkjærre_ being less than that of two
_carrioles_; but, having no springs, it jolts and jars its occupants
most unmercifully.
The _carriole_ may be considered to be the national vehicle of Norway,
and is certainly the most comfortable. In appearance it resembles a
miniature buggy, and it holds one person, who can stretch his legs
in a long, narrow trough between the seat and the splash-board;
or, by straddling the trough, the occupant can rest his feet on two
conveniently-placed iron steps. The luggage is strapped on to a board
behind, and the _skydsgut_ sits on it. A day's drive in a _carriole_,
if the weather be fine and the pony a good one, is a real pleasure,
and an intelligent _skydsgut_ will enliven the journey with his
amusing babble, as well as with scraps of information about the
country traversed.
The ponies are generally about thirteen hands in height, good-tempered,
sure-footed, strong, and hardy, and think nothing of doing thirty or
forty miles a day, if given an occasional rest. Driving them requires
no great skill, and it is best to leave them as much as possible to
their own devices, since reins and bit have very little influence
over their movements. One may haul on to the reins for half an hour
without inducing the pony to pull up, but the magic sound of the
"burr-r-r" uttered by the _skydsgut_ will cause the little beast to
stop dead. And he will not go on again until he hears the peculiar
click of his master's tongue. So the stranger in the _carriole_
or _stolkjærre_ will do well to hold the reins for the sake of
appearances, and allow his _skydsgut_ to do the rest.
One word of comfort to the adventurous driver: Do not be alarmed
if you notice that the harness is dropping to pieces. Your henchman
(up behind) will soon put matters right with some scraps of string
and a few bits of stick.
But the actual drive--how lovely it all is! Now you are passing up a
valley among the hayfields and orchards which border the river, and
by the roadside you find a profusion of wild flowers--great purple
gentians, blue harebells, yellow mountain globe flowers, and other
blossoms of varied colours. Butterflies there are also in abundance,
and, if you be an entomologist, your heart will rejoice at the sight of
such rare English insects as the Camberwell Beauty, the Northern Brown,
and others. Now you enter a dark pine-forest, to find yourself before
long emerging on to an open stretch of wild moorland; and so you cross
the col, and commence to drop down into another valley, narrow and
shut in by towering mountains. Waterfalls sparkle in the sun as they
tumble over the cliffs, and the still unmelted snow stands out white
and glistering on the distant hill-tops. The road swings from side to
side of the valley, crossing the torrent in its bottom by stout timber
bridges, and at last you reach the margin of the great lake, where
stands the neat little inn ready to provide you with your midday meal.
The organized tours, however short they be, always include a drive of
this description, and no Englishman would consider that he had visited
Norway unless he had driven through a part of the country. Even in
a week one can cover a deal of ground. One can go by steamer from
Bergen up the Hardanger Fjord to Eide, and thence drive across the
neck of land to the Sogne Fjord, through the finest and most varied
scenery imaginable, returning to Bergen, if needs be, by steamer down
the Sogne Fjord. Or, if there be a few days to spare, one can steam
across the head of the Sogne Fjord from Gudvangen to Lærdalsören, and
thence again take _carriole_ or _stolkjærre_ to the Fillefjeld, and so
visit the wildest of Norway's mountain districts, the Jotunheim--the
Home of the Giants.