It started off as a simple idea. A Norwegian adventure, back to basics. We had spent a lovely week last summer in a no-frills cabin we found on Airbnb. There was no kitchen or indoor plumbing, but we had wi-fi, electricity, an old gas bbq, outdoor shower (with water straight from the fjord) and a compost toilet outside. We soaked up the views and solace, not a second of the long stretches of daylight wasted. There were no tourists, no people – with the exception of the friendly Norwegian man who owned the property and kept to himself. We spent our mornings drinking coffee and watching the jellyfish swim by through the crystal-clear, glacial waters. Our afternoons were dedicated to hiking around the forest, our backyard for the week, testing our adventure skills and taking turns deciding which direction we wanted to explore next. The evenings embraced those long days of Norwegian summer, a bottle of wine on the porch with card games and smiles, lit up by a seemingly never ending sunset.
We found ourselves at the airport wondering why in the world we’d ever want to return to the hustle of London when we had found paradise in Norway. In a momentary lapse of judgement (fate?) , heavily influenced by the high of nature, one too many pints of over-priced Norwegian beer, and a total state of relaxation only a perfectly executed holiday could deliver – we booked our next trip back. We knew we had to take it further. Less people. Less wifi. A true off-the-grid adventure where we’d be forced totally out of our comfort zones. A quick search lead us to the cabin where we’d spend the following Christmas working harder than we’d ever had to in our lives. The cabin that would teach us the power of nature, survival, and that sometimes the most tiring, stressful, and testing moments are the most life-changing and memorable.
The Big Trip: Six Months Later
The week before the trip, our Airbnb host sent us a map to the cabin in Norway. It was approximately a 20-25 minute walk from where we’d have to park the car. There were pictures to help us know where to go straight or veer left, all obviously taken in the summertime. My mom joked that those picturesque streams, homemade bridges, and foot worn paths would all be unrecognizable in winter. I laughed her off.
Flying into Bergen, we picked up our rental car and began the three hour drive toward our Christmas retreat. The roads were clear, and sadly lacking in the anticipated wintry white stuff. When the GPS said we were about 20 minutes away from our destination, we turned off the highway onto a mountain road. There was now a light dusting of snow, but an obvious air of disappointment hung in the air.
The road began climbing higher, twisting around to the other side of the mountain, and with one turn we found ourselves in a winter wonderland. In a matter of minutes we went from a couple inches of snow to a couple of feet, and as we continued toward the cabin – the snow just got higher and higher. Suddenly we were in a totally different extreme and we were overjoyed.
A Norwegian Adventure – in Parking
We finally reached the ‘parking’ place on our map. A small area off the roadside, directly above a vertical drop to a small lake. (One foot too far and holiday over.) The snow was at least three feet high, and in the parking area it was even higher due to piles created by the snow plow clearing the roads. We considered just parking on the road itself. It was just large enough for an average size car to pass, but there wouldn’t be enough room for anything else. That wasn’t going to work. Pulling over as far as we could, still obstructing the small mountain road, we decided to quickly run to the cabin and grab a shovel to dig a spot ourselves.
We quickly realised that this wasn’t going to be a 25 minute scenic walk. In ten minutes we only managed to half-way climb the snow drifts with The Kid to get off the road. But in a moment that made me fall in love with the Norwegian people forever (the first of two that day), we saw a snow plow slowly driving to our location in the distance. It was Christmas Eve in the middle of nowhere! Hurriedly, we made our way back down the snowdrifts towards the car. (Already heavily breathing and sweating like it was a hot day in July.) As the man pulled up in his snowplow, he offered to make us a place to park the car. Thank you Odin or Thor or whoever was looking down upon us that day.
With a safe place to park, we each grabbed a couple bags. It was about 2pm, so we figured we’d have plenty of time for a return trip before dark. (Knowing that darkness would come early.)
This Was Not the Plan
According to the map we should be arriving at the cabin, but we had more or less only started. Wearing jeans and the cheapest snow boots I could find on Amazon, we slowly waded through the -at times- waist deep snow, trying to lug our bags through the empty spaces our bodies left behind. Sadly The Kid was also in a similar predicament, although she at least had snow pants. I was cold. The Kid was cold. The Dutchman was cold, but had nice North Face snow boots, so was spending all of his energy trying to help us move. We began to worry, but I was also just totally in awe with our beautiful surroundings so assumed we’d be fine.
Sometime Later …
We were still walking. Trying to find anything in the forest that resembled the images on our map. We knew we were doing somewhat okay as we’d passed some larger objects that hadn’t been buried in the snow. But, we still hadn’t arrived and The Kid and I were running on pure determination, emotionally and physically exhausted. The Dutchman and I began to discuss a Plan B. We’d need to turn back soon and get to the car, once it got dark we’d have zero hope of finding our cabin.
Around this time, and I’m not sure it’s a dramatic re-telling, our lives were saved. There, out of the woods, on Christmas Eve, in the middle of nowhere on a Norwegian mountain – a man comes flying towards us on cross-country skis. He could tell we needed help and had a cabin nearby. We showed him the picture of the cabin we were trying to get to and he said he knew the one. He took my bags off me, threw them over his shoulders like a superhero and told us to follow his ski tracks. He’d leave the bags on the cabin porch. I was crying from happiness, crying at our total lack of preparedness and stupidity, and so incredibly thankful that we’d make it to the cabin just before darkness surrounded us.
Safe at Last
We arrived at the cabin not too long after, it ended up taking about two hours in total, and went straight into survival mode. As there was no electricity, we lit up a few oil lamps and gathered wood for a fire. Before we could do anything, we needed to get warm. We all got changed into dry clothes and then huddled together by the dancing flames. I went to find some food, before realising we had left all the groceries in the car for the non-existent second trip.
Luckily we had stuffed a package of bacon, bread and cheese in one of the clothing bags. Oh, joy. We went for some cheese sandwiches with some hot cocoa we found in the cabin. We decided to save the bacon for Christmas morning. Luckily, Santa had left his gifts in one of the bags we brought – so The Kid would still have a magical Christmas to wake up to.
I think we slept early that evening. Our bodies sunk into the warmth of the wooden bunk beds, a warm glow dancing on the cabin walls. The Dutchman and I quietly discussed plans for Christmas day, which unfortunately would not be as relaxing as anticipated. We had work to do. We had food to retrieve. But, despite the day not going to plan, we were giddy. Things could’ve turned out much differently that day, but they didn’t. Little did we know, the days ahead would bring even more trials. Our Norwegian adventure was far from over.
Sounds like a very awesome adventure!
Is there a part 2 ? I want to read more!