Olden and the Roof of Norway (Sunday, July 3)

Lovely Lupine

Ah, our sleep patterns have finally adjusted. We woke this morning after a good night's sleep (perhaps enhanced by glasses of wine with dinner and a few nightcaps with our Belgian friends). We were sailing into the Nordfjord where we docked at Olden, a small community on the shore of yet another gorgeous body of water surrounded by mountains.

A quick breakfast consumed, we headed for an all-day tour billed as "The Roof of Norway." Despite intermittent rain and fog, it was a glorious opportunity to see and learn more about this country. Our coach took us along the fjord, then up into the interior and the mountains. We passed by lakes and farms, more houses roofed with turf in the old style, and more waterfalls than I could have imagined seeing in my lifetime, much less a single day. All along the way, we saw blue and pink lupine.

As we passed buildings on both sides of the roadway, our guide commented on the vicissitudes of life here. “That building,” she said at one point, “replaced the one that was knocked into the water by an avalanche.” To our right, farms rose up the hillsides toward the steep mountain peaks. To our left, a narrower strip of land allowed for some homes and businesses to sit on the fjord’s side. Based on her comments, the properties on both sides are subject to destruction by the whooshing down of snow and/or rock than can occur here.

As the coach climbs, there are very narrow mountain roads that cling to the sides of the steep rises with sheer drop-offs below. It is hard to imagine driving buses over these roads, but we, like the thousands of other tourists who come here, are, in fact, safely transported up and around, sharp curves are managed and we have the advantage of great views without what must surely be hair-raising stress for drivers unaccustomed to the hairpin turns. Just looking down the steep slopes out of the bus windows is like being on an amusement park thrill ride. Drivers of other vehicles pull aside in places. Despite the two-way traffic, there are spots where allowing for one vehicle at a time is just the smartest plan.

Rockslides Everywhere

The beauty of the landscape masks its capacity for cruel dangers. Our guide told us that she had once seen as many as 24 avalanche sites along the stretch of road between her home and Olden, a drive of about 90 minutes. She pointed out spots where avalanches had occurred and a spot where many conical mounds of rock have been placed to protect the roadway from avalanches. Scientists come here from all around the world to study these fearsome natural events, trying to find better ways to minimize the damage done as snow and rock pour down the mountainsides. Avalanches have the force of tornadoes and have crushed buildings and pushed them into the fjords and lakes, as we heard earlier.

Our morning tea stop was at a hotel up an even narrower and steeply twisting road. Did I mention that our vision was often obscured by a thick fog that drifted in and out of the gorges and across these roads minute-to-minute? Indeed, the sun peeked out as we stepped down from the bus, then we had our cups of tea and walked just outside the hotel to take pictures of the roaring waterfall nearby. Before I could walk back up a little rise from the water overlook, the fog rolled in, thicker than ever.

From Dalsnibba

Back on the bus, we climbed higher and higher into the mountains toward the highest peak, traversing tunnels along the way. One beautiful lake after another lay below the roadway. The last one had sheets of ice in one end and glaciers high above on a ridge. Our destination, Mount Dalsnibba, is the highest peak in the area and a very popular place for travelers. We left the main highway and wound up the steep and unpaved road to the top from which we could see and photograph the town of Geiranger far below on the Geirangerfjord. That is, we could see and take pictures for a few minutes before the entire mountain was wreathed in a thick cloud through which we drove down again.

The road then wound down through the valley past one beautiful vista after another. Here, too, the cloud drifted in and out, our view obscured, then revealed again. Some of the houses built for the workers who constructed the roads here many years ago have been preserved and sit alongside the road, tied down by thick steel cables. The cables are necessary because of the powerful side winds that blow through here, strong enough at times to blow over the houses if they are not secured. Waterfalls drop thousands of feet down the rocky cliffs. A river bursts over rocks as it tumbles down the valley toward the fjord. Everywhere around us is something to see, another picture that could be shot. If we stopped at every opportunity, we would be here for weeks.

Fjord Centre

Geiranger is a popular tourist spot and its waterway is called "the pearl of Norway's fjords." Many cruise ships stop here and ferries move thousands of people back and forth across the water. We had lunch at a pretty hotel that provides a generous buffet, introducing us to mashed swede, a tasty side dish for the pork, salmon and fish cakes, among many other options. Across the street (and a rushing mountain stream) is the Norwegian Fjord Centre with interesting exhibits about life here today and the history of the area.

A note about swede: It’s a Scandinavian dish in which rutabagas are mashed with potato, butter or stock, and sometimes carrots. It reminded me a bit of mashed sweet potatoes. One more thing learned here about the way in which Scandinavian words have made their way into English—rutabaga comes from a Swedish word (rotabagge) meaning, simply enough, root bag. Somehow, swede seems a more appetizing name.

Seven Sisters

We took the ferry across the fjord, enjoying views of the famous waterfalls cascading down the steep mountain walls at the side of the fjord. One waterfall, known as the "Seven Sisters," gets its name because there are actually seven streams of water falling in that spot. Another famous attraction is known as the "Bridal Veil" because it creates a lacy pattern as it drops down the rock face. Cameras were snapping pictures, tourists were posing and a good time was had by all as we took about an hour from Geiranger to Hellesylt.

Hellesylt

Hellesylt, a tiny village, is the childhood home of our guide. We stopped briefly to take pictures of the spectacular waterfall there, tumbling into the middle of the village and beneath a bridge into the fjord. She told us that her parents and others kept children from getting too close to these dangerous waters so close to home by telling the kids that a troll lived there. Trolls are mentioned and seen everywhere here, part of Norse mythology. One story says they were turned to mountains if touched by sunlight, thus there are so many mountains here, but no longer any trolls. There are, actually, plenty of trolls to purchase in even the smallest gift shops.

We turned back toward Olden and our ship, passing again through the little community of Loen. On the return trip, our guide told us a little of Loen's history. Situated on a lake beneath a mountain, the little town was devastated in 1905 when part of the mountain fell into the lake, creating a huge wave that destroyed the houses and killed 63 people. Thinking it could never happen again, the townspeople rebuilt, only to have another part of the mountain fall into the lake in 1934, again causing havoc. It has again been rebuilt, tempting fate.

Happy Travelers

When we reached Olden, we were surprised to find many of the crew members lined up in their uniforms on the pier to greet us. They handed us hot chocolate laced with Bailey's and had a small band playing music for our return. It was quite a sight and, after a long day, both the greeting and the libation were very welcome. As I am writing, we are now cruising back out of the fjord, heading for our next port, Bergen. We look forward to more of Norway's pleasures.

                                                                                   Most photos by Mike Lumpkin

Aalesund and Its Islands (July 2, 2011)



Aalesund, Norway

 At last we are getting more securely into this time zone. I managed to sleep until 5:00AM this day and Mike slept even another hour. We were passing through choppy seas this morning as we came further north up Norway's west coast toward today's port of Aalesund. The captain had warned us last night that we would be sailing into winds that would rock us a bit more and suggested that we secure our belongings before going to bed. Though there was a good bit of pitching and rolling, it was not enough to make anything fall over. I did see one low-slung ship off our starboard side that seemed to be wallowing in the waves rather more than I would like to experience.

The coast here is rocky and somewhat wilder looking than we've seen thus far. It reminds me of the Scottish coast somewhat and, then again, of Alaska. As we came into the islands, the more protected waters are calmer and the mountains rise into the clouds above narrow lowlands along the shore. These hills initially showed fewer of the steeprocky faces we've seen, with more thickly wooded slopes, though without the really tall trees we saw in the valleys around Flaam. Though a cloudy day is predicted, the sun peeped out occasionally as the day began.

No walk this morning, but we expect to do a lot of walking throughout the day in this area. The Sojourn has the best room service ever, arriving with our tea within ten minutes of our phone call this morning. We have found the service and quality of food and beverage to be very good and the staff is always pleasant and eager to help with whatever we want. Last night our cabin stewardess, Mihaela, left us a towel shaped to resemble a little dog--she's really sweet and was excited that we appreciated her efforts.



Godoey Light

 In fact, there was not so much walking, but as we visited the islands of Giske (pronounced Yees-ka) and Godoey, there was ample opportunity for exercise. I climbed the lighthouse on Godoey.  The light sits atop a small wooden building with several flights of stairs, more like a ladder, that took me up to an outer deck where the ferocious winds blew me against the side of the building. The steps were so narrow and there were no handrails on the upper stories, so coming down was actually more daunting than going up. I would say that the view was worth the effort, but, in truth, the island was so flat and the lighthouse so small that there was little difference in the view from the top, only the joy (?) of having abused myself to get up there.  Then there was the moment when I rounded the upper deck and thought for just a moment that I would be blown over the rail!

The lighthouse was a morning tea stop for us where we were served pancakes and chocolate cake. (No worries here about too many carbs, it seems.)  Tourism is keeping the historic lighthouse maintained.  The arts and crafts sold here are quite expensive as a part of the effort to preserve the structure. Postcards were priced at $5 each!

This is really a beautiful, if windswept, place on Norway's coast. Aalesund spreads across seven islands connected by a series of bridges and tunnels. The tunnels go deep beneath the fjord through the rock of undersea mountains. Because of the weather here, especially the fierce winds coming in from the sea, tunnels are better for cars than bridges. One bridge still in use must sometimes be closed due to bad weather. One can easily imagine how precipitous a crossing it would be over the low bridge in blowing snow with high waves crashing over the roadway!  Norwegians live in a part of the world where nature is not always kind. They have cleverly adjusted to their environment, finding ways to make the most of the natural beauty without risking more danger than is good for them.

Giske Church

We visited a small church on Giske. It is made of marble, but the exterior has been covered over to protect it. We couldn't go inside because the interior is being repaired. The islands have, since they have become more accessible through the tunnels, become popular spots for commuters, but land and housing on them are expensive.

The town of Aalesund has, our guide tells us, been voted by Norwegians as "the most beautiful city in Norway."  Devastated by a fire in 1904 when most of its buildings were wooden, the city was rebuilt in the Art Nouveau style. Its buildings, therefore, are beautifully decorated, both with designs on facades and around windows and doors and with wrought iron balconies. One hotel has onion domes on its corners. Some of the buildings are painted colorfully and their reflections in the water below are like rainbows.

Rainbow of Colored Houses

In one beautiful neighborhood overlooking the water, we stopped to photograph a traditional Norwegian home roofed with turf. This particular place is being protected for its historic significance, so the people who live in it are not allowed to make any changes without permission. It's a charming place, but the guide indicated that the residents have to be willing to do without many modern conveniences to live there.

We spent some time at an overlook where it's easier to appreciate the charms of this place. It is difficult to get oriented here because the roads wind through tunnels and many times we were doubling back and twisting around the hills to get from one place to another. The hilltop park around the overlook is very popular with locals who exercise on its paths.  Then there are the tourists (like us) who flock here in summer. I found less expensive postcards at the shop there.  Portions of the German fortifications from World War II remain in the park, a grim reminder of the Nazi occupation. Norwegians are proud of their resistance movement during the Occupation.
We were tired when we returned to the ship from our tour, so opted to relax on board the ship rather than wander around town on our own. The evening was just warm enough so that we could enjoy dinner on the pool deck as we began sailing away from Aalesund. We struck up a conversation with a Belgian couple, first talking of sports and laughing when our Belgian friend said that football is not so popular in his country, but that their national sport is "tax evasion."

We traded stories with Dirk and Christine for awhile, discovering that they once owned a condo in Florida and came to the U.S. often. When it got too cool outside, we went up to the enclosed Observation Bar (one deck above the bridge) for drinks. As the captain had warned us, the wind was strong and there was a lot of motion from the waves. Fortunately, none of us were bothered, so we enjoyed the evening.

Island Marina

                                                                           All photos by Mike Lumpkin

Norway's Flam: Mountains and Valleys by Train and Coach (Friday, July 1)

As we begin to make our way back along the Aurlandsfjord (a branch of the huge Sognefjord) toward the Norwegian Sea, we're tired, but grateful for the long hours of daylight. We can enjoy again the beauty of this place, its green waters tucked between steep wooded mountainsides. At times there are sheer rock faces that descend far below the water, plunging precipitously into this deepest of Norway's fjords. We have been anchored in the harbor at Flaam, a very small community of 380 or so people, including those who live up the valley from the village.

Our excursion took us from Flaam on the Flambahn railway up the very steep grade to Myrdal, then onto the public train to Voss where we had lunch at Fleischer's Hotel, then took a motor coach down through the truly frightening switchbacks of Stalheimskleivane, Norway's steepest road. Fortunately, it is now one-way. I'm not sure our nerves would have managed another coach coming at us on such a narrow road with a tiny little wall between us and the deep gorge below. We did, of course, make it safely back, thus we sit here now, wine at hand, to share our day.

I was up very early again, sometime around 3:30 AM, unable to get back to sleep and excited to see the views outside our window when daylight came around 4:30. The scenery along the Sognefjord reminds us very much of similar passages in Alaska. There are more homes and farms along the shore here almost all the 100 miles or so from the sea to the inner reaches of the fjord. It's been raining here a lot and waterfalls cascade down the hillsides from the tops of peaks, most of them in the 2500-foot range, we're told. Along the shores we saw vineyards, some with vines covered like we saw done in Australia for white wine grapes.  (We later learned that these are orchards, rather than vineyards, where they are growing apples, pears and other fruit.)

During our train adventure, we saw even more spectacular stretches of river, swollen and rushing violently down the hills, some waterfalls throwing up spray so thick it's hard to photograph for all the mist across the camera lens. We stopped specifically to photograph Kjosfossen Falls, a 300-foot cataract that bursts down a gorge overlooking the rail line. A platform has been built there to allow close-up views and photography. The challenge is to keep one's self and one's camera dry enough to succeed.

In addition to the construction marvel that is the rail line itself, the Norwegians cleverly created tunnels for the river that accumulates all the mountain runoff so that there are no bridges over the river here. Instead, the river runs through tunnels under the road. There are also tunnels through which the railway and roadways run, cutting into the rock faces of these mountains. We went through a couple of long tunnels, many miles of darkness that were actually welcome moments for napping as we continue to adjust to this time zone.

The hotel in Voss where we had lunch provided an amazing buffet, seating hundreds of tourists in a huge, wood-paneled room with a very high ceiling, decorated with painted tiles and old photographs. One wall of windows overlooks Voss Lake, beside which stands a statue of a man we never expected to see here. It's Knute Rockne, a native son of Voss, depicted life-size in bronze, football in his hands. Born here in 1888, Rockne moved to the USA with his family when he was about 4 years old. And the rest, as they say, is history.

While our guide for this tour showed us pictures of the wide variety of wildlife that lives around here--lynx, brown bears, wolverines, reindeer, etc.--we saw none of them outside our windows. They are, he says, "shy." Despite the presence of these predators (pronounced pre-day-tors by our guy), it's a popular area for hikers in summer and skiers in winter. Though the native population is small, thousands of tourists come here, providing an economy no longer dependent on just agriculture or the mining of stone he called anorthosite or "moon rock," a white stone used in everything from paving to tooth paste all over the world.

We heard a bit about Norway's public health and pension systems. They are funded through the wealth from offshore oil fields which also provide free education all the way through university studies for all. The reference for all of this was to Norway's orientation to societal values, rather than what some Americans might deride as socialism.

This beautiful combination of sea and mountains, valleys and villages, is charming. Despite the rain and fog that obscured our views, we've had a grand time, soaking it all up. Our fellow passengers have come here from all over the world and we delight in hearing so many languages, so many renditions of English, too, as we engage in the shared experience of this place. Many of those on our ship are regular travelers, so we recount our journeys to one another, collaborating on "best deals" and "most magical places."

With luck, we'll sleep a bit more soundly and, perhaps, a bit later tonight before we rise again to see what is around us, take our walk along the deck in early morning, and go ashore in Aalesund.

                                                                          All photos by Mike Lumpkin

Sojourn in the Norwegian Sea

As is often the case when jet-lagged by travel, our night was uneven. We were first rocked to sleep by the swaying of the ship (the Sojourn), then awakened by biorhythms unaccustomed to this time zone (6 hours ahead of Charlotte). So I was awake at 3:30 AM in the few hours of darkness days have here (about 11PM-4AM), watching the lights of other ships in the sea and reading in an attempt to get back to sleep.

I woke again around 6:30AM when Mike brought in tea from the coffee bar at the stern end of our deck. Our cabin is almost all the way forward¸ so we're getting some exercise just moving around the ship. We took advantage of u-shaped walkway a couple of decks below for our morning walk, mostly under cover. but cool in the morning air as the ship powered through somewhat windy seas.
We had to learn how to use the very efficient and modern shower, then followed our noses to the varied and tasty breakfast buffet. Mike signed us up for a tour of the ship's bridge, a geek's dream with its array of electronic marvels from GPS to radar, all backed up by alternatives. In the midst of such modern equipment, it was amusing to see the fairly simple way in which the bridge is constructed to help them bring it alongside piers for docking. There are control stations in wings on each side of the ship where the captain or pilot can operate it. Included at each station is a glass insert in the floor so that they can actually look down to see that they have positioned this huge vessel exactly where they want it.

On a white board in the bridge are listed facts about who is on the ship, listing the numbers aboard of crew members, "PAX" for passengers and "SOB" for souls on board. The Second Officer, Johanna from Finland, was our guide and made it all sound both efficient and amazing. The view from the bridge is amazing and they have an officer acting as lookout at all times in addition to the officer(s) who monitor the equipment. The lookout literally keeps his eyes on the sea ahead and around the ship. It is somehow reassuring that they have both the most up-to-date equipment and keen human eyes on the job.

The rest of the day has included lunch (cruises are always about food and more food and the Sojourn doesn't disappoint us in this area), a lecturer offering some history of Norway, cards and meandering. The lecture, while interesting, still inspired some napping. The poor guy was talking to people who had already consumed two meals and were being constantly rocked by the ocean. I think only a few fell asleep right in front of him; I napped in our room as his voice lulled me via the television broadcast.

The card game was made happier by our onboard barrista who cheerfully made me a Jamaican Latte, more than half of which was a lovely dark rum. Mike, of course, hoped that I would be less wily in my card play, but I managed to overcome the rum and beat him anyway. Perhaps next time he will seek the power of rum for himself.

Not wishing dress up for the "formal optional" evening tonight, we are enjoying the room service option instead, preparing to dine in view of the passing waves, maybe watch a movie. They have films available that are in theaters now, so we may opt for "The Green Hornet." The service and choice for both food and entertainment here is as good as we've ever had anywhere and it's easy to be utterly spoiled. It's a recipe for a wonderful vacation.

Tomorrow we'll be miles into our first fjord and we look forward to our first venture onto Norwegian soil and a railway trip, as well. When those of you in the U.S. are still fast asleep, we anticipate oohing and aahing over beautiful blue waters, mountainsides and the many photo ops we'll have to share at the end of our Friday in Norway's Vestlandt.

Charlotte to Copenhagen and On to Norway

As I write this we are sailing from Copenhagen, Denmark, on the Sojourn, a Seabourn ship. Getting here was a bit of a trial, flying from Charlotte Tuesday afternoon to Atlanta, then through the night to land in Copenhagen Wednesday morning. Unfortunately, neither of us slept much, so cranked off the plane at the airport feeling as twisted as pretzels.

We did have one of those felicitous moments in the departure gate at Hartsfield-Jackson Airport in Atlanta that travelers sometimes experience. While lining up to board, we chatted with a woman from the San Francisco area who asked us where we were from. When we replied "Charlotte," she asked if we knew Giverny. That's our neighborhood and we discovered that her family moved to the Bay area about the same time we moved to Charlotte. We seem to be reminded often that this is a small world.

Once in Copenhagen¸ feet on the ground and weary bodies unkinking, we enjoyed a ride through the city with a driver who gave us quite a bit of history on the way to the harbor. It's not a huge city, but it was founded in the 12th century, he said, and has wonderful buildings, including twisted towers, and green parks. The water is never far away, seagulls float overhead and today's weather has been picture perfect. There's a Carolina blue sky (perhaps they would say Danish blue) and the blades of the wind farms offshore are turning steadily. Our driver told us that Denmark generates more than 20 percent of its electricity from wind.

Despite our weariness, we made the obligatory safety muster, learning to put on our life jackets properly. Then there was a party on the pool deck as we prepared to sail. We watched a couple of much larger cruise ships move out ahead of ours, then began making our way toward Flam up Norway's west coast. There are sailboats all around, windmills in the water and a really long bridge in the distance. So much of Scandanavia is made up of islands that bridges and ferries are a part of life.

I am enjoying the throb of the engines under the decks. It feels as if the ship has a beating heart. We both relish the occasional roll of the ship beneath our feet and know that the swaying will rock us to sleep tonight, as if we needed any help as tired as we are now.

As I close, we are passing beautiful farmland, green pastures spread across the lowlands along the coast. Based on the World Atlas provided in our stateroom, what we are seeing must be in Sweden. Our course will take us up through the Kattegat and the Skagerak, relatively narrow waterways that wind up from Copenhagen to the Norwegian Sea where we'll go north in and out of the fjords before coming back to Oslo and Copenhagen for our return home. The captain has warned that we might have some rougher seas ahead, but, for now, it's truly smooth sailing.

We'll be at sea all day Thursday, a perfect time to catch up on our rest, find our way around the ship and just enjoy the cool breezes here. It is heavenly to have 70-degree days ahead and we don't even mind the rain in the forecast. After the early summer heat in the South, the cooler temperatures here are blissful.

The Danish Coast

10 Things I’ve Learned on Long Walks

I’ve become a bit of a hiker lately. Why? you might ask (as I do myself when miles from home). Mostly because this is one of the few ways to exercise that I can actually enjoy. At this stage of my life, it gets ever harder to willingly do those things I don’t enjoy.

In the past two days, I’ve walked about three-and-a-half miles each day (spelled out this way to help underscore the distance). Yesterday I took my camera and meandered a bit, stopping to take pictures along the way. Today I was given a mission from my husband to retrieve a bottle of catsup from the grocery store. I accepted the challenge because it’s a favorite walk and Starbucks is next to the grocery store; they have my favorite iced tea.

What I’ve learned is that it’s not just exercise; it’s a learning experience. And so, here are 10 things I’ve learned on my long walks.

#1 – I’m not much of a photographer. Despite the fact that I live with an accomplished photographer (my husband, Mike) and I know some talented photographers whose work I admire (Joye Arden Durham and Stephanie Egan), I do not share their gift for this. I do, however, believe I might be the first Impressionist photographer. An inability to focus accurately on subject matter can result in the “painted tulips” you see above.  Hard to believe I once made a living taking photographs!
#2 – Joggers do not smile while jogging as much as walkers do when walking. I suspect they (the joggers) are unhappy because their ankle bones are working their way up to their rear ends, painfully. Admittedly, I have encountered the occasional unsmiling walker, but there is always a percentage of people with deep psychological miseries for whom even a good walk is not an antidote.

#3 – People in cars are alternately very polite to walkers crossing the street into which they want to turn or, frighteningly, oblivious to the walkers until they jam on their brakes, causing walkers to become jumpers. It pays to be watchful when crossing a street that is clear of cars when you step out; they will sneak up on you.

#4 – I notice something new every time I walk. These are streets I’ve driven on for more than a decade, but driving doesn’t allow one to notice the hundreds of details of landscaping and architecture that one sees when walking. Honestly, I’m seeing houses I’ve never actually noticed at all, as well as the amazing beauty on these spring days of flowers, both cultivated and wild.

#5 – Dreams have a way of surviving, even when circumstances conspire to defeat them. There are several pieces of land along my walks that were being developed several years ago, but that were stymied by the economic downturn. Some houses sat unfinished for a couple of years, but now building is beginning again. At least a couple of workers are back in the development with a Mediterranean flair that has only one mostly finished home to go with its dry fountains and walls bright with yellow vines.

#6 – My Southern upbringing requires that I acknowledge people as I meet them on the sidewalk. It’s interesting to note how many people seem surprised that I speak, but most do speak back. Some people say we’ve lost our social skills. Maybe we’re just not practicing them as much because we’re in cars or in public places where we’re actually trying to maintain our bubble of privacy against all those we don’t know.

#7 – Despite lifelong teasing about my pale skin, my über-whiteness does not cause accidents. One of the health benefits of being outdoors in the sunshine is absorbing Vitamin D. Since my doctor seems concerned that I might not be getting enough Vitamin D to keep my bones healthy (rickets, anyone?), I’ve allowed myself to take my absurdly white skin out where it can be seen, potentially causing accidents when drivers are blinded by the sun’s reflection off my legs. Thus far, no crashes have occurred.

#8 – Grocery check-out clerks must experience a lot of strange things. When I went into the store to purchase the aforementioned catsup for my husband, I sensed that the young man checking me out was cool with the old lady in the Paddington Bear hat and sunglasses quibbling about the price of the catsup and handled it well until I told him I didn’t need a bag because I could put it in my backpack. I suspect he’ll have an extra beer when he gets off work tonight and maybe his buddies will pay for it when he tells them about weird old lady with what he probably perceived as dementia.  He was kind, but I noticed that he backed away when I rejected the bag and took off my backpack to put in the catsup.

#9 – Music is, in fact, the universal language. When stopping for my iced tea at Starbucks, I picked up an Adele CD while waiting. This began a five-minute conversation with the young woman behind the counter in which we traded favorite musicians and songs, ranging from the Avett Brothers to Joss Stone, Ruthie Foster, Grace and the Nocturnals and Tyrone Wells. She was right about Wells.  His “Seabreeze” is now on my iTunes list to download. I hope she likes the ones I suggested that she hadn’t heard.

#10 – Whether you’re traveling halfway around the world or just walking a few miles, it’s nice to come home again. One of the pleasures of my walks is the simple one of coming up the walk and into the front door. When we’re in the car, we come in through the garage and kitchen door. That's okay, but this front door thing is different.  There’s something satisfying about entering the house, especially after a good walk, something that says I’m home and reminds me of the first time I came into this house and why, after looking at so many others with the realtor, we came back to this one. We felt at home here, somehow knowing that this would be a great place to return from life’s experiences, a place of comfort and peace, a place to share with family and friends. Somehow all those feelings come back to me more vividly when I walk through that front door.

Weekend Wandering

One of the joys of retirement is the freedom to explore. So we wander often, discovering new places that are sometimes just up the road or around the bend.

This past weekend, despite a misty day on Saturday, we decided to go to Old Fort, NC. We’ve seen the road that turns off NC Highway 9 many times, but have always been on our way to or from somewhere else. When days are scheduled, it’s easy to pass up those side roads. But this day our plan was simply to wander around Old Fort.

So off we went, stopping long enough just above Chimney Rock Village for lunch at the Esmeralda Inn. The current owners of this historic spot have created a beautiful inn and serve meals from creative menus. This is a place, they say, where Mary Pickford, Gloria Swanson, Clark Gable and other Hollywood stars once came, first to make silent movies, later to get away from the glare of their fame. It remains a quiet haven for those who would escape life’s sometimes frantic pace.

The original Esmeralda, built in 1892, burned down, but was rebuilt and now has the protection of modern safety standards. It sits on a slope above Highway 9/64/74A as the road twists and turns alongside the Rocky Broad River in Hickory Nut Gorge. Guests can sit on the covered front porch and hear the river as it splashes over the boulders that give the river its name.

On such a wet day, we enjoyed our late lunch with the dining room pretty much to ourselves. Our friendly waiter brought us hot, savory vegetable beef soup and my favorite, a fried green tomato BLT. We dined at a window table in view of the budding trees and flowering daffodils. My guess is that, after a too-dry spell in this area, the plants were all thirstily drinking in the rain.

We found our way to Old Fort road with its ups and downs and curves through the mountains. There were stretches of road with no habitation, just the eerie tall woods in deep ravines, filled this day with thick, swirling fog. In other places there was that strange mix of homes one finds in a developing area like this. Old farmhouses and mobile homes flanked the entrances to gated high-end developments. Occasionally we saw a mountain mansion showing off its log exterior on a ridge above us. They wouldn’t have had much of a view in the rain, but their sunrises and sunsets must be glorious on better days.

Finally we came to Old Fort itself, billed as a town of just under 1000 people. One feels its struggles at the outskirts in the hardscrabble housing. Mills that once provided jobs are now shut down and in the economic downturn of the past couple of years, it’s hard to come by the money needed to paint or repair a sagging porch. In February of this year, the town council of Old Fort voted to do away with its salaries, as well as the mayor’s. They know sacrifice here.



Mountain Gateway Museum

 The road continues under Interstate 40 into town and what is apparent there is both local pride and efforts to find community success in the face of challenge. We stopped at the Mountain Gateway Museum and Heritage Center where we were greeted warmly by a lovely lady. Their featured exhibit now is about Plott hounds, bred in the North Carolina mountains, some trained to hunt bears. When I asked the docent, a native of the area, if she had ever seen a bear, she said no, but, of course she’s heard tales of the bear hunts.

Although small, the museum’s displays focus on the North Carolina pioneer lifestyle with interesting photographs and maps, as well as two restored log cabins on the grounds. There is a short video we didn’t watch because we were eager to see some of Old Fort’s sights that we had read about. So we asked the docent to point us to the cemetery where a “Look Homeward Angel” can be seen and she graciously told us how to get there.

Up the steep hill that is Cemetery Street we went and there it was, the angel statue surrounded by a wrought-iron fence. The story of this statue is that Thomas Wolfe’s father had it made, then lost it in a poker game. The Carrara marble statue that gave Wolfe’s book its name is in a cemetery in Hendersonville on the other side of Asheville. We’ve seen it often when wandering toward Brevard along that road.

Photos made, we headed back to the main street and the Old Fort Depot, now home to a small railroad museum and the local Tourist Bureau. On the day we were there, there was also an arts and crafts show there with handmade textiles, pottery, jewelry and brooms, as well as well-drawn sketches by a local artist. Some of them are members of the Southern Highland Crafts Guild and their work is both artful and unique.

Mike took photos of the giant arrowhead that sits at the intersection by the depot. Thirty feet tall and made of pink granite, it was unveiled in 1930 as a symbol of the peace made in this area between pioneers and Native Americans in the 19th century.

Old Fort is part of the McDowell Quilt Trail, a county-wide display of traditional quilt designs on wooden signs called barn quilts that are attached to buildings. Appropriately, the Railroad Crossing design is affixed to the Depot and a couple of saw designs are displayed on the Old Fort Woodworking building.

Depot Barn Quilt

What we didn’t experience on our Saturday in Old Fort was their famous Mountain Music night. Those events happen on Friday nights and have drawn music lovers for many years for a jam with banjos and guitars, fiddles or dulcimers, maybe an accordion or washtub. As some have described this Friday tradition, the musicians play “just for the joyful noise they make.”

Andrews Geyser

Our next stop was at the locally known Andrews Geyser, a bit out of town and back in the woods. It can be reached by roads that sometimes parallel the railroad track. The geyser is actually a manmade water spout that is turned on in the morning and off in the evening from the lodge above it. It is said to have been built originally by Mill Creek in 1885 for train passengers to see as their cars began the steep climb to Swannanoa Gap. Over the years, the geyser has been moved, restored and then rededicated in its current spot in 1976.

Winding our way back to the main road, we headed west to stop at a couple of our favorite shops in Black Mountain, the Common Housefly (kitchen goods) and the Merry Wine Market. We made a quick stop at Town Hardware, too, for a couple of items. These are places we’ve found in early wandering and now know the people and their wares. They remember us, too.

Along the familiar drive down NC 9 from Black Mountain to Lake Lure, we found wild turkeys, some of them looking as big as small ponies, startled from an early supper in the fields of Ledbetter Farms. All along the roadside, the occasional burst of bright yellow spikes of forsythia shone through the drizzle and fog.

And this day, like other roaming days of exploration and discovery, reassures me that Anatole France was surely right when he wrote: “Wandering re-establishes the original harmony which once existed between man and the universe.”

All photos by Mike Lumpkin