Safe Return Doubtful

My main reason for visiting Styrkesnes was to hike to the abandoned mountain village of Hauan / Jordbru, 5 kilometres away. Local folklore speaks of a supernatural presence that has been around ever since the three farmsteads were vacated in the 1960s. People lived there since the 1600s, but there is no electricity, and winters were really tough. Access to roads is to the north, a hike, a cross country ski, or a horse ride of two kilometres to a track, which runs another couple of kilometres to the sea, and from there a boat to Styrkesnes.

The legend tells of the last family living there after the others had moved away, just an elderly couple in the 1960s. The man died but his wife still insisted on living there alone despite many pleas for her to relocate. Friends and family called on her every couple of weeks, but after a few months she disappeared. Searches were organised , but she was never found. It was assumed she must have died out in the wilds and her body never found. Or, as locals choose to believe, she didn’t want to be found.

Over the years there were rumours of occasional sightings of her, most worrying being her staring out of her upstairs bedroom window, but when the house was entered it was empty. Ten years ago there was an effort by the owner who it had inherited it to turn it into a holiday cottage. Nearer the coast there are a few, on,y accessible by boat. Any workmen that came to renovate became unsettled by accidents that befell them, and soon removed their services. Rumour spreads quickly between small rural villages, and it wasn’t long until no one was prepared to work there, and the project was shelved.

Any place with a story like this attached to it fascinates me, and encourages me to visit for myself.

Fortunately today dawned fine, after two rain days, with temperatures between 8 and 12C.

Yesterday I had found a trail up the river to a hydroelectric plant and then on to a lake. The walk up was with the river in spate, and its waterfall sections quite dramatic to see. Above that the ground was extremely wet, but nonetheless a pleasant few hours out.

The cloud cleared overnight for a fine Arctic day, reaching a maximum of about 20C, ideal for outdoor activity. After the rugby from Japan we headed out, through the village and onwards up the marked trail to the old derelict farmhouses.

There was a bit of up and down, with the walking on bare rock, though still slippery in places, much easier than through the lower ground. It took just over two hours to get to the farms, set in a meadow with grass left to grow wild. If there was the spectre of the old woman lurking, she had failed to deter the mosquitoes, the only section of the outing where they were in evidence. We beat a hasty retreat, after a quick, glance in the upstairs windows.

Disappointed to come away without a haunting, gaining the higher ground rekindled our spirits, the views were now exceptional.

We were back at the van for a lazy afternoon of sport, the Welsh rugby from Twickenham (which doesn’t sound right), the India Afghanistan cricket, and the URC rugby final.

Styrkesnes is a wonderful place to stay, twenty kilometres from its nearest neighbour. I’ve seen a few residents. The schools broke up yesterday, and in the afternoon a few children arrived, to be looked after by their grandparents. Within no time they were out on quad bikes, fishing or kayaking in the river; they had no doubt been counting the days until their long summer break.

One other really old German Hobby motorhome, from 1992, arrived late on Thursday night. It rained most of Friday, and the vehicle had its windows temporarily sealed up with what looked like cardboard. It made me wonder what the point was in coming to a place like this and shutting out every view. I never saw the occupants at all, just heard them leave early this morning while the rugby was on.

And.. this photo from a fine summer’s Arctic night, taken at 11:58 pm from the van..