The palaces of the kings of the North
Chapter in which the Baby gets to eat the raspberries, and Carlson pays tribute to blueberries
- Well, since you're so stubborn! screamed Carlson and seizing more hard, instantly put it in my mouth.
The kid looked a little peanut, lonely lying on his palm.
- Listen, - he said - because you said yourself that whoever picks first should take something smaller.
- Hey, you little gourmand, if you had to choose first, no matter how hard you took?
- You can be sure I'd take less - firmly answered the Kid.
- So what are you worried about? After all he's got!
Once upon a time in the old old days instead of people in Norway lived trolls and other fairy creatures.
Some of them were giant trees and mosses grew on their heads and noses, others were small, others had several heads, and some had only one eye in his forehead.
The trolls were like people, but were covered with green fur, had only 4 fingers on hands and feet, tails, and huge long noses with warts.
These creatures did not tolerate the light of day and could move on the ground only at night or dusk.
And if what that Troll did not have time to hide in the mountains before sunrise, the first rays of light turned him to stone.
That is why when you go around the country you see so many stones of different sizes and shapes.
When the climate warmed and the glaciers crawled away to the North people came from the South.
They settled here and named the country of Norway, which means "Northern way".
They were called "Normans" North men .
They saw how beautiful the country was , and thought that they were its first inhabitants, but soon discovered that the whole country is populated by many amazing creatures of zhivushih in the Neverojalnyh areas.
And trolls were among them.
Exotic Norwegian evil is nekken and huldra.
The first live under the numerous bridges of the Kingdom and threaten to pull down a anyone much hanging from the bridge.
In fact it is a male mermaid.
Huldra lives in the forest and killed the men, luring them its unreal beauty.
When we drove into the forest we ventured twice. Unnatural enchanting a damp, dark forest, overgrown with moss could lure us into their grounds and then Huldra danced to on our remains.
A petrified Troll, where we spent the night, when it was a very large specimen and was able to Wake up in the night.
And it is unlikely that he would have liked that what two people in it eating, sleeping and all that.
Then we would not help even rice porridge with whipped cream and blueberry jam which is on Christmas eve, Norwegians put on the porch for the trolls in order to cajole them.
But we were lucky we woke up in the morning unharmed.
Our hill was still just a hill with blueberries, tent bask, your obedient servant and his friend Rinat, suspiciously examining in the mirror my ribs and muttering - Oh how I lost!
But if a little to dream up, it is possible to imagine standing next Debrskogo Troll from Andersen's fairy tales in the crown of the strong icicles and polished fir cones.
"The Troll was wrapped in a bear fur coat, and his feet sank in the warm boots. The children wore no suspenders and bare chest – they thought themselves heroes.
And this hill? asked the younger and pointed a finger at the magical hill. – We in Norway it's called the pit!!!!
But their father was quite different.
It is so interesting to tell about the majestic mountains of Norway, about the waterfalls, which white foam falls down the rocks and rumble like thunder, then sing like the organ.
He told me how to jump out of the water nastriChu collapsing from the height of the salmon stream, just a little sparkle on a Golden harp water, as the bright winter night jingle bells of the sleigh and the boys with burning torches are worn on the ice, so transparent that one can see fish that are in fear they scattered from under his feet.
But the noise of the sawmill, so the guys and girls sing songs and dance Halling-the movie!... "
All our further way to the border with Sweden proceeded in exceptional sparsely populated areas.
Only mountains, forests and many lakes large and small across our way.
Perhaps those who live in St. Petersburg and often travels to Karelia will not find anything surprising in the local scenery, but we have not spoiled the pristine beauty of such thought that we were in Paradise.
In Norway you really need to come to be treated from the people, from the bustle and stress of big cities.
The tranquility and peace of mind will act positively to any wounded soul or sdelannye nerves.
It seemed that the air around the trembling chords of the simple and solemn music of Edvard Grieg, filling all the space around the splash of waterfalls, the cries of seagulls and the rustle of the lake waves.
The sky cleared up, the sun came out and we were inspired by this fact raced ahead as birds.
In Bjorkelangen (Bjorkelangen) we wrapped the rest to the local store.
Cordisco absolutely unimportant , but different stores -a lot.
Walked through the sports, manufactured goods and food. Torknulo in closed doors Vinmonopolet.
The fact that in Norway the same system the sale of alcohol in Sweden.
GOSUDARSTVENNAYA monopoly and shops without further ADO and named.
We're out, says Rinat, fuel and we wanted to replenish its stocks.
But had to postpone it to Sweden.
After a dozen kilometers Shatskogo (Setskog) the road makes a loop.
On both sides of the road a beautiful lake.
And indispensablee tables for guests.
And at a little distance, even a place for a bonfire.
Although Norway is not allowed them to breed from may to October.
At dismounted from their horses and settled down for lunch.
Rinat pulled from the stash jar collected the day before.
And graciously from their bounty shared with me as much as he was allowed his conscience.
Norwegian kefir with these wonderful berries were delicious.
Turned almost national dish is blueberries with whipped cream.
Cream we churned with a spoon of yogurt.
Rinat fooling around ,stuffing his mouth with blueberries, from what his tongue was bluish black as in dead.
Our next stop was near the border with Sweden near the southern tip of lake Romsjoen
The surface of the lake was motionless as a mirror.
And absolute silence spilled around like molasses, enveloped from head to toe.
Not one fisherman, no boat did not disturb this space of calm.
I do not believe that we are on the Ground.
Fish in Norway you can fish, as in Sweden, fluent in the coastal waters.
Here was caught halibut , cod, haddock, saithe, redfish, pinagor, herring, bream, sea pike and flounder. Moreover, the fish caught is not small weighing up to 60 kg.
The water between the Islands in front of the Bergen is rich with Pollock and mackerel.
Freshwater lakes and ponds with abundant pike, perch, eel and trout.
For fishing in lakes will need: - a special permit fiskeafgaft and consent of the local authorities fiskekort.
Additionally, Norway banned fishing on live bait: the main method of sea fishing in the country is sheer trolling.
Well, I was just for General knowledge said.
With vertical jigging, as you probably remember, our fishing valabregue had some problems intractable to rational explanation.
The border with Sweden - again a small sign with ondesu.
Modest and tasteful. Nothing extra
And again overnight has dramatically changed the nature.
Left behind the mossy hills and dramatic elevation changes.
It was like an average strip of Russia.
Once again, I decided to save time and to shorten the route by going no side road, and through small villages.
The asphalt road quickly ran out and went to ground not the best quality.
We are already weaned from the such.
In addition, she was a mountain plateau and climbed up winding roads for 15 km.
The surrounding area was uninviting and monotonous and I began to catch myself thinking that I'm falling asleep.
Eyes stuck together and the bike was wobbling from side to side.
With great difficulty willpower I overcame myself.
Rinat also get tired of these twists and joked that the famous Trollstigen, we found in Norway and in Sweden.
By evening they reached the city Kopp (Koppom)
Zatar cheap Swedish food in the store (that's what everything is relative) and greshnim thing wanted to eat at a local place.
But that is the situation we are not inspired and we were limited to ice cream.
On the way stopped at the first house and asked sitting on the terrace people to collect water for us.
We were not denied.
To the Parking lot stood on the shore of lake Ranken(Ranken) near the village Crocopop (Krokebol)
This is the place I spotted from the highway.
Prior to this question several times down to the lake in search of a free land.
But there was a house, or a swamp.
I was lucky - I saw a small beach, one part of which was occupied by miniprinter with moored motor boat.
And expensive by high motor was on top of anything not tied down.
My friend then the whole evening was distressed about this. Because we have he attached a footI.
And here lies in peace - and nobody attempts.
The second part of the beach was free. Then we dumped their bones.
As it turned out there were a lot of bushes with raspberries.
Large and juicy. We, as two Russian bear before the sun moving, its prickly thickets.
Ate at least three-liter jar.
I ate raspberries in the next six months probably.
The lake water was cool but very affordable.
And it is with great pleasure and showered, washing off the dust of dirt roads and pot Norwegian miles.
The time has come how to eat before a short Scandinavian night.
We spread out a makeshift tablecloth on the fine lacustrine sand.
Collapsed on both sides and began to eat the dishes which were untold our eyes.
We waited and soaked dried cod (lutefisk) is one of the oldest national dishes with boiled lamb chops (pinnekjott).
Sweet befstroganov venison (finnebiff) with boiled potatoes and lingonberries, and dessert - mashed turnips.
And of course, an indispensable drink "Aquavit".
Actually of course it was much more prosaic.
Rinat started his American kerosene stove and fifteen minutes traditional porridge with canned fish left over from shopping in Oslo formed a thin nutritional layer on the slimy bottom of our stomachs.
Travelled: 130 km
Pedal: 6.23 hours