Norway simply stuns me.
Around every corner, there’s an epic view. During this morning’s walk around Eidfjord, we crossed a little pedestrian bridge over a roaring mountain stream. Lilacs crowded the guardrail. Local homes nestled right against the deep blue water of the fjord. A snow-capped mountain loomed above it all:
No iPhone-based camera could ever capture the raw power of Voringfoss, a 300-meter waterfall plunging into a rift in the earth. Still, I tried, because the rainbow in the rising mist and the view of the valley is something I want to remember forever:
And then, on a walk back down from seeing Iron Age Viking graves and a church built in 1300, we found ourselves stunned again — this time by a view of our ship resting in the tiny local harbor:
I love living in Midtown, which looks almost exactly what six-year-old Mark imagined when he dreamed of a clean, urban, twenty-first century home. But what must it be to live every day surrounded by a landscape so dramatic as to defy description?
Do you ever grow jaded to it? Stop seeing it? Stop staring at it?
The surprising just keep coming — in scales large and small. After viewing the vistas, as we wandered through this tiny town, we came up on a food truck selling “Thai takeaway.” It was lunch time, and we were tempted. Still — Thai takeaway? From a food truck in Norway?
Our gamble paid off. Clyde’s tom yum gai was coconutty and rich and packed with white meat chicken. My gai pad met maumuang himapan (cashew chicken, by any other name) was spicy and packed with cashews.
Real Thai food — cooked up by two Bangkok natives who have chosen to make Norway their home! (Clyde and I became today’s favorite customers by greeting them, ordering, and thanking them in Thai!)
Tomorrow: a day a sea. Saturday: my first trip to Stonehenge. Sunday: home again, home again.