FROM SHORE TO SUMMIT
Riding the scenic Flåm Railway
The view from our window was spectacular. Thick forests were decked out in the fiery colors of fall, butting up to golden-hued rolling valleys and farmlands. High, snow-capped mountain peaks poked into a blue sky, and silvery waterfalls tumbled down the steep slopes. “I’m sorry. It’s our first time,” a young mother said, apologizing for her three excited children. Stair-stepped in age, they were loud and squirmy, jumping from one side of the train to the other to catch the best view. It was an unnecessary apology; we were practically doing the same, rubbernecking for a look and reaching for the best camera angle. The train whistle blew and soon the view was gone; we were in darkness, rumbling through a tunnel carved out of the mountainside. But it wasn’t long before the scene re-appeared, confronting us with the staggering beauty of Western Norway’s fjord landscape: soaring mountains, deep glacier-carved valleys, plunging waterfalls, shimmering cascades. We were riding the “little green train,” the famed Flåm Railway (pronounced “Flom,” and also called “Flåmsbana” in Norwegian). The hour-long ride connecting Flåm to Myrdal is considered one of the most beautiful train rides in Europe, traveling a steep, narrow
SUN-DAPPLED WILDFLOWER FIELDS, NOW COLORED AUTUMN GOLD, SLID INTO VIEW, JUXTAPOSED AGAINST DISTANT JAGGED PEAKS.
valley, from the end of Aurlandsfjord to the Hardangervidda plateau, the highest mountain plateau in northern Europe. It climbs from sea level to nearly 3,000 feet, passing through 20 tunnels and over numerous bridges.
STARTING AT THE FJORDS
The journey began in Flåm, known as the “small village with grand surroundings.” It’s nestled in the innermost corner of Aurlandsfjord, a tributary of the massive Sognefjord, the deepest and second longest fjord in the world. We poked around the picturesque fishing village, and went to the Stegastein, where we had bird’s-eye views of the deep and narrow fjord from a viewing platform that extends nearly 100 feet out from the side of the mountain. Before boarding the train, we popped into the Flåm Railway Museum, where we learned about the engineering and construction of the railway. Several small villages and towns are nestled along the shores of Aurlandsfjord, and the Flåm Railway, part of the Bergen Railway linking Oslo to Bergen, was the key to connecting them to the rest of the country. The building of the railway that would later be considered a technical engineering marvel began in 1924. It took 16 years to build, and remains one of the steepest standard gauge railway lines in the world, with more than 80 percent of the journey running on a gradient of 5.5 percent. That means the rail line rises over three feet in height for every 60 feet or so it travels. Twenty tunnels were carved out of the mountainside, 18 of them by hand, requiring around 150 hours of labor to create just one three-foot section of tunnel. The Nali Tunnel, measuring more than 4,200 feet, took 11 years to build. “Can you imagine building this rail line? And back then most of the work had to be done by hand,” our guide told us as we left Flåm Station. “It’s so steep that we need
two locomotives, one in the front and one in the back, and a special brake system.” The train chugged slowly through bright green fields where cows grazed, leaving Flåm and its red and white houses behind. Sundappled wildflower fields, now colored autumn gold, slid into view, juxtaposed against distant jagged peaks. From the train we could see bicyclists cycling The Rallarvegen, Norway’s most popular biking trail, switchbacking through the gorge, following the train tracks in some places. Also known as “the Navvies’ Road,” (the word rallar is Norwegian for “navy”) the steep, dirt road was used for transporting materials during the building of the Oslo–Bergen railway line more than 100 years ago. It was turned into a cycling track in 1974, and is well known for its scenic views — and the 21 hairpin turns that run from Vatnahalsen to Kårdal, the highest farm in the Flåm valley. We could see the steep, zig-zag trail from our window, dipping down the mountain slopes and through the valley.
CLIMBING FROM THE COAST
We saw colorful snug villages tucked into the walls of the steep ravine, and farmhouses nestled on the mountainsides. And there was darkness as we moved through the impossibly carved tunnels. The rail ride was a study in contrasts: from kaleidoscope color to brownblack, from sea level to mountaintop. The train stopped several times to pick up passengers in small villages along the way. More than halfway up, the conductor stopped the train near a platform overlooking the mighty Kjosfossen waterfall, and invited passengers to step out for a closer look. The waterfall crashed over a steep cliff, plunging more than 700 feet, sending out a blanket of misty spray. While snapping photos, we spotted a woman with long, flowing hair, dressed in red, walk out of the forest onto the top of a nearby sea cliff. We watched as she began to swing and sway to a Norwegian folk song. It’s Huldra, our guide told us, a forest nymph who, according to Norse mythology, lures passing men into the deep woods. He later admitted that she was actually one of several Norwegian National Ballet school students hired to play the part. Our windows were open, and as we climbed to Myrdal at 2,841 feet elevation, the air grew cooler. The bald-topped mountains surrounding the isolated station village, set at Norway’s “rooftop,” were dusted with snow. We disembarked and joined the small group of passengers who were waiting to change trains, going on to Oslo or Bergen or stops in between. While the Flåm Railway is a popular tourist attraction, it’s also well traveled by commuters. We grabbed coffee and snacks at the rustic Café Rallaren, and chatted with hikers and bikers setting off to explore the Hardangervidda plateau. “Alle ombord!” the conductor called. The three kids, our train-traveling buddies, ran to the front of the line. “I’m sorry,” their mom offered. “They’re excited.” No apology necessary. We were all excited for the steep, scenic descent back to sea level.