. . . continued from previous post.
After a somewhat restless night trying work out the most comfortable way to sleep with a rock in my back, I finally woke to a calm and very foggy morning. It seems that overnight the sea fog had sneaked up the valley and enveloped our camp and there was a heavy dew everywhere. However in a very few minutes the sun broke through and began to burn it away. Because there was absolutely no wind at that point the lake was like a mirror, and I don’t think I have ever seen such a perfect reflection. One of the pictures below is upside down – see if you can work out which!
At this point I also learnt my favourite new Norwegian word – rumpetroll – which sounds best when said effusively, repeatedly and with very rolled Rs (4 year old boys do it best).
We had a late breakfast and contemplated the first order of the day – swimming with the rumpetroll (tadpoles). In preparation for returning from the somewhat chilly water (note the patch of snow next to Frank’s lake, which was helping to maintain the water temperature), we re-lit the fire and boiled a kettle. Then, just as we were set for swimming a tiny breeze began and the fog re-appeared, bringing a sudden drop in air temperature and an eerie gloom. Because we didn’t know how long it would be before the sun came back, we decided that ‘there’s no time like the present’ and Frank took the plunge while I took pictures, then we reversed roles. The water was very cold, and the shock of diving in was enough to persuade me not to swim far (the water was very clear but we couldn’t see the bottom in the middle).
After getting dry and warm, we had a short Bible devotion in German, prayed and then broke camp, packed up and headed down the valley towards our pick up point. We also stashed the spare firewood for next time (we hope).
On the way we met two New Zealanders backpacking around Norway, passed a camping hut (one of a network owned by the state and available for anyone to use free – first come, first served, and quite basic), spoke with fishermen by the lake, picked multer (‘cloud berries’ which are a local favorite and the location of which is a more closely guarded secret than that of the Norwegian army), spoke mostly Norwegian, and finally reached the hydro-electric station where we got our ride home.
A huge thank you to our wives for letting us go at very short notice! Det var flott.
Photos below, and a panorama here: