NORWAY’S WILD WAYS
Viking tales and stark, beautiful scenery make for a thrilling mix
What is it about Scandi noir that has us coming back for more, series after series, and book after book?
‘The fascination lies in the contrast between these peaceful, small, town communities, and the brutal, violent action taking place,’ says Jorn Lier horst, crime author and former policeman.
horst, 47, and the author of more than 20 novels, is giving me the lowdown on coastal Vestfold County, which is just a 90-minute drive south of Norway’s capital, Oslo, a region often overlooked by visitors.
We’re sitting in the charming Yellow Gallery cafe, in Stavern — a waterside town blessed with 200 days of sunshine a year. It’s drawn artists, mariners and dreamers down the decades.
Modest clapboard buildings are painted in the dark red of the Norwegian flag, or a mustardy Stavern yellow.
Oil wealth has been flowing through the Kingdom of Norway (recently named happiest nation on earth), causing this area to be re- christened ‘ the Norwegian hamptons’.
tax returns are a matter of public record; everyone can see what anyone else earns. the resulting tensions must surely fuel horst’s dark stories.
I’ve been reading his recent book the Caveman, which kicks off with the discovery of a local man in his house, four months dead. It quickly enters serial killer territory. Wary of what might lie around a clapboarded corner, I retreat to the Wassilioff hotel, founded in the 19th century by Russian emigres.
the decor retains a tsarist theatricality. the philosophy seems to be ‘more is more’. halibut, hauled off the nearby dock, comes with caviar. ‘Fantastisk,’ enthuses the waiter. he’s right.
Next day I take to the high seas. John Larsen skippers a trawler that’s available to charter. We make an 11-mile round trip to Svenner lighthouse, sitting serenely on a small island.
the colliding currents and submerged rocks add to the drama. ‘ thank God for the depth sounder,’ says John, peering at a small screen.
We head six miles north to the port of Larvik, and the Farris Bad Spa, a thrilling, modern hotel built over the fjord.
I’m in the Larvikite suite, named after the local stone that’s used to stylish effect. It has a terrace and terrific views.
Larvik is known for its explorers and writers. a jovial, silverhaired singer- writer, Louis Jacoby, set up Larvik Poetry Park, involving plaques placed artistically around town. he directs me to one of them, two minutes walk from the hotel.
‘all those days that came and went; I did not realise this was life,’ it reads, mysteriously.
I need a drink and a soak. I down an aquavit ( the local spirit), then sink into the mineral cave — an underground bath of spring water with a high, wood-panelled ceiling.
Next day I head to Midgard historical Centre in Borre — cradle of the Vikings, where the manager, anne Doksrod, persuades me to don chain mail.
It has ancient burial mounds and a recreated Viking hall. Viking events happen regularly here: feasts, archery contests — even heavy metal rock concerts.
thankfully, anne tells me that feast days involving the sacrificial slaughter of animals are long over. the longer I stay, the more impressed I am by how welladjusted the people are, given their history and bizarre rituals.
I’m ready for another aquavit.
TRAVEL FACTS
Norwegian Air ( norwegian.com, 0330 828 0854) flies to Oslo from £70 return. Rooms at Farris Bad Spa ( farrisbad.no, 0047 33 19 60 00) cost from £185, B&B including spa entrance fee.