Day 77 – at Storvatnet Lake, Dovrefjell-Sunndalsfjell National Park

Though Henrik’s gesture to offer his cabin was very much appreciated, it reminded me how comfortable and luxurious my own van is. He had a huge woodburning stove which was lit in no time, but these timber buildings have very poor insulation. It felt like I was heating the few cubic metres outside as much as inside. A water tank with pump indoors would make life easier as well. My own little kitchen works really well. Such a small space as the van heats up incredibly quickly and the insulation works pretty well also. The temperature dropped to almost zero overnight, so that warmth was appreciated. In the end I watched the rugby in the cabin, then returned to the van for a Butter Chicken curry that I’d cooked a couple of nights ago, and to watch an Indonesian horror movie, which was surprisingly good; Impetigore, a type of Javanese folk-horror.

It seems like it’s dry for a few of days now, with a good share of sunshine. I was keen to get out, but had the conundrum of following the Australia England T20 from Perth. Fortunately technology saved me. My van router is a portable one, so I re-situated it in my backpack, and had the BBC commentary on at a low volume throughout the three hours I was out. Unlike the Pakistan series, the commentary team seems a decent one now, and they are actually in Australia, which helps. It worked well. I do like a peaceful hike, but when needs must..

My route was a circuit of four lakes, more if you include some small ones, but the Norwegians, as well as us Cumbrians, they call these tarns. With the icing sugar effect of the snow on the mountain tops, it was quite spectacular.

Tourism here in Sunndal owes a lot to Barbara Douglas, or Lady Arbuthnott. She was born into a wealthy Scottish family in Ireland in 1822. She studied the classics in Brussels, and could speak Hindi from a young age. Her first husband died of cholera, her second died in the Crimean War, and along with her third, the son of the Viscount Arbuthnott, she came on honeymoon to this very valley I am staying in. She was immediately captivated by its beauty, perhaps at the expense of her new husband..

They were soon divorced, as she blamed him for an argument that caused an epileptic seizure of her 20 year old son, that resulted in his death. Her son had always been a sickly child. The Viscount wanted him to join the army, but he preferred the piano and sketching. Alone, she drove her fitting son by horse and cart over the mountain on a track on a freezing night to the nearest village, but to no avail.she buried her son at the farm and sent her husband back to Scotland.

After a short return to Scotland, she returned to buy the farm where she had spent her honeymoon. She taught herself Norwegian, as well as the skills necessary to farm, the latter about which she wrote several books, including The Hen Wife, which is still in print in Norway. This farm, at Løken, is now a museum, and was on my route today.

A few years later, in 1876, she bought another farm, Grødalen, higher up the mountain. She became an agricultural pioneer importing British chickens and pigs, and introduced tourism to the area, mainly through hunting, but also hiking and landscape painting. She founded a local health service, a library, and gave much of her wealth to local charities. But 8 years later her bank in England collapsed and she was bankrupt. She sold her properties and lived in a much less grand cabin made from odd bits of timber donated by local people who also funded her board, and until her death in 1892, she cohabited, in poverty, with a local teacher and tradesman. She remains a renowned figure in Norwegian history. Every year since 1996 the community perform a much lauded musical about her life in the nearby town of Sunndalsora. Her house is now maintained and run as a museum that can be rented as group accommodation also. A picture is below..

Not satisfied only with the tremendous sport in Perth, in the late afternoon I settled in for the Premiership rugby. I’ve moved up a few kilometres from the rough driveway of Henrik’s cabin to the car park for the lake at Storvatnet, and a bit more sun and views. It’s usually busy in the summer, but today just a few cars passing to get to their holiday home / cabins beyond. Traditional cabins like Henrik’s are rare now. Most are renovated or even new builds worth several hundred thousand euros, and salubrious affairs, with under-floor heating, glass fronted living rooms with mock wood fires, decked and heated barbeque areas, indoor outdoor saunas, bars with vast fridges crammed with beers of the world and sound-proofed cinema rooms with legal satellite TV. Across from me, a kilometre or so away, is a large staffed mountain hut, with seasonal restaurant. There are a few people around as this is the mid-term school break, until Thursday. But only a few, it really is very quiet. It’s 740 metres above sea level, cool and mosquito free in the summer, and has fantastic cross country skiing opportunities in the late winter (February to May).