Stavanger
NORWAY
Pulpit Rock Will Change Your Life
By LYNDI
Wednesday, April 1, 2015
To be fully blunt: if you go to Norway and you don’t go to the fjords, you should have your passport revoked. You can see cities anywhere in the world, but the fjords are life-changing.
Norway has what’s known as “Norway in a Nutshell” (but might as well be “Jaw-Dropping Sightseeing for Dummies”), an easy-to-follow tour starting in Oslo that takes you through some of the country’s most famous fjords, legendary railways, epic hikes and cultural towns. Due to our lack of advanced planning, we decided to do the Nutshell tour in reverse, going from Oslo to Stavanger on an overnight train, arriving to a freezing, blustery, rain-coming-in-sideways morning to the seaside town of Stavanger.
It was a short walk to our hotel, where our room was ready AND they let us in on the breakfast buffet of eggs, salmon, cheese and – of course – caviar in a squeezable tube. Yum!
By the time I’d stuffed myself beyond comfort, the rain had abated and the skies had started to clear, so we took the opportunity to walk around town and figure out how we were going to get to Preikestolen.
Stavanger started out as a sleepy fishing village, but then oil was discovered offshore in the late 1960s and forever changed the city’s landscape. The city maintains a fair amount of tranquility and simplicity, but the giant oil rigs hovering offshore are a bit jarring. We spent quite a bit of time walking around town and checking out Gamle Stavanger, the historic part of town with white clapboard houses tightly packed together. We walked across town to the local jetty and bought tickets to Preikestolen for the first day the tours started running for the public the following day.
On my and Aaron’s endless quest for a cheap pint of local beer, we paused as we walked by the Penguin Pub on the way back from the pier. The unkempt outside appearance on top of the seaside location promised cheap beer and salty sailors – just our type of place.
In the annals of our travels, rarely have we had such a memorable night. The pub itself was exactly what we were looking for – divey. The bar only served Tou, Norway’s Budweiser, on tap, a juke box that belts out Norwegian rock, and we were surrounded by locals stopping in for a pint on their way home.
Aaron and I had taken the tortuous layover at LAX, along with some train rides and picnics in Oslo to go over a few key Norwegian words. This could possibly have been the biggest waste of time considering Norwegians speak English better than most Alabamans, except for the fact that our butchering of the language opened the door to many new friends. Ever confident, Aaron walked up to the bar, and in his best Norwegian accent said: “Deus ol, ver scha schnil”. Instantly, the jukebox stopped, conversation halted, and everyone at the bar slowly turned their head to see what sonnofabitch had just pissed on their language. The bartender – in an almost American accent – said, “Yeah man, I’ll get you two beers”.
As we enjoyed our well-earned Tous, an older gentleman stopped by our table to introduce himself. Ludwig had heard Aaron’s comedy routine at the bar and wanted to learn more. So he sat with us and generously bought another round. As it turns out, Ludwig knew half the bar, so as the night grew longer and his friends gained a little Dutch courage, they kept coming up to talk to the strangers, buying us a round of Tou or the local akvavit known as “Fishermen”. The shot was licorice-flavored and burned on the way down, but mostly in a “hurts so good” kind of way. I can’t tell you how many friends we met, or how many drinks we had, but the night was filled with good fun, friendly locals, and loyal Ludwig, who missed at least 5 ferries home while the drinks were flowing.
The next morning we set off for our full day at Preikestolen, or better known in English as Pulpit Rock. Norway’s Lysefjord was carved by retreating glaciers and runs approximately 25 miles. It’s narrow channels make it especially impressive, and in some places the fjord is as deep as the mountains behind them are high. The hike to Pulpit Rock is popular not only for the scenery, but also for the flat rock that drops directly to the river 2,000 ft below, making it an easy and exhilarating photo stop. People in Stavanger claim no one has ever “fallen” off the rock (though plenty have jumped to their death), though the vertigo-inducing views make me seriously doubt that story.
I love Norwegian ferries. Buses, cars, motorcycles and pedestrians all clamber in, people climb up a few stories to the lounge, stand in line for coffee and just have time to swig it really fast before the ferry has crossed the narrow fjord and everyone has to climb back in their vehicles. As you cross more and more fjords, you soon learn that the average time aboard a ferry is approximately 15 minutes, yet the coffee routine is sacred, and I was more than happy to join in.
The ferry crossing from Stavanger to Tau was much longer than 15 minutes, so I got in a coffee AND a pastry as we enjoyed the sea’s morning fog dissolving into a crystal clear sky. When we reached Tau, we climbed aboard a bus that took us to Preikestolen fjellstue – which maybe means Pulpit Rock tourist trap – and then we set out for the coveted viewpoint.
The hike to the rock is only about 2 miles, but it easily took us 2 hours as we trudged through pretty deep and slick snow. Since we were some of the first hikers to set out for the opening of the hiking season, we were making our own tracks – meaning we were the ones who had to figure out where the snow wasn’t fully packed so we could fall in up to our hips. For the most part, the hike was slow and steady – nice views of the snow-covered mountain range – but nothing could have prepared us for our first view of Lysefjord.
I feel like I’ve seen plenty of fjords in my day, but Lysefjord was by far the most dramatic. Maybe it was the steep drop-offs, maybe it was the brilliant blue sky reflecting off the untouched snow, or maybe it was the “Fishermen” finally unclouding in my brain – but the views were quite literally breathtaking.
As Pulpit Rock came into view, we picked up our pace to take part in the great tourist tradition of framing shots to terrify mothers around the world. The rock was pretty wide – 82ft x 82ft – and very flat, but I still kept replaying the vision of a clutzy Lyndi tripping over my own two feet and toppling over the edge. Luckily, with a little camera wizardry, we can look like we are on the precipice of the rock, and tourists everywhere became photography experts as we timed jumping shots and angled shots from on high with a shared goal of helping fellow travelers’ Instagram and Facebook followers swell with jealousy.
After a hearty lunch of salami sandwiches, fruit and chocolate, and after exhausting every photo opportunity we could think of, we headed back to the bus. We passed several groups of Norwegians who had hiked up with a small grill and were having a barbecue with a view to-die-for, and decided that we should probably bring that one home to the U.S. As with most hikes, down was a bit more treacherous than up, but we made it back in good time and enjoyed the overpriced cafe, tourist shop and lodge at the base. When we arrived back in Stavanger that evening, we stopped in again at the Penguin Pub, but Ludwig and his posse were nowhere to be found, so we finished our pint and headed home.
Having read through many tourist books, I was eager for our next stop in Bergen, but knowing what I know now, I would have taken my time in Stavanger. It’s a cute little town, plenty of hikes and sightseeing to do, and not nearly the tourist hotspot that Bergen is. But hindsight is 20/20, so after two full days we packed up and climbed aboard a bus/ferry/bus/ferry/bus/ferry/bus to Bergen, with jaw-dropping scenery and friendly locals leaving a permanent impression on our Norway adventures.
