The scenic route number 15, leading through the Norwegian fjords from Bodo in the north to Steinkjer in the south, is an uninterrupted line of unusual sights. Especially when the weather is good. And its most attractive point is the Svartisen glacier, the lowest in Europe.
You can see it from the road. The white cap that covers the mountains peeks out over and over again among the peaks that descend steep slopes straight into the sea. We already know: this is the purpose of our trip.
We read in the guide that we should launch an attack on never-melting ice in Holland. Towns! That's too much of a word. There is tourist information, a lot of parking, a few houses in the vicinity. And a small marina, because the glacier glacier on the other side of the fjord can only be reached by a small boat, and then you have to go on foot.
In the information we read: yes, you can climb the glacier, but only with a guide. Tours are organized every day, but you need to book at least one day in advance. We don't have such a reservation. Can we make it? The news girls don't know that. We have to ask in the "cafeteria" on the other side. We'll get there tomorrow, the first ship leaves at 8.
Pending
We're getting ready for the night. There is neither a hotel nor a campsite here. A small advertisement invites us to a campsite located 30 kilometers from here. Too far away: we have to be at the marina by eight. We put up a tent in a meadow: we use the Scandinavian law, which allows you to camp for one night in any place, but not too close to buildings, so as not to disturb the peace of residents. In the evening, the parking lot before the information is filled with motorhomes. I counted thirteen of them. One Norwegian, the rest are Germany. They will also go to the glacier tomorrow.
Persuasion
Disappointment in the morning: all guides are already taken, we can sign up for a trip the next day. We do not have time! We want today. We tell the chief of guides about the tight schedule of our Scandinavian expedition. He shakes his head in surprise and finally finds a solution: but we can leave in two hours.
We throw ourselves on the grass by the lake, watch as the water flows down from under the white tongue with a roar. We bask in the sun. The sky is blue, cloudless, very warm. Untilit's hard to believe that we are over a hundred kilometers beyond the Arctic Circle …
Practical information
We can get to the Svartisen glacier from the village of Holland on Hollandfiord, located about 150 km south of Bodo and more or less the same to the north of Mo i Rana (note, there are two ferry crossings on this road).
We will reach the glacier in a small ship, there is no other way. The crossing takes approximately 15 minutes and costs CZK 55 per adult, CZK 30 per child, one way. You pay for the return, double.
At the foot of the glacier is Brestu's "cafeteria". The tours start here, you can have a meal (from 90 to 130 CZK for a dinner dish). You can spend the night at the campsite (CZK 100 per tent) or in a four-person cottage (CZK 500 per person).
Guided glacier hike costs CZK 600 per person. The tour lasts four hours. The price includes full equipment (harnesses, shoes, crampons, ice axes, helmets). We had perfect weather, but it is generally cold on the glacier: you must have warm clothes, it is worth taking a hat, a scarf and gloves.
You can go on a two-hour guided hike to the head of the glacier. Such an escapade costs 250 crowns. The guide takes a two-kilometer route (4 km in total) around the lake and tells about the history of the glacier. However, it is not worth paying for it: you can approach the glacier face alone - for free.
money: 1 Norwegian krone (NOK)=0.45 PLN
contact:
tel. +47 75 75 11 00
[email protected]
http: //www.svartisen.no/
To the forehead
Olav, our guide quickly leads us up. It is not far to the glacier's head: in 1996 it was only twenty meters above sea level, now it is much higher, maybe fifty? Climate warming is wreaking havoc here.
In a small booth we pack our equipment: put on hard shoes (ours, although tourist ones, Olav found too soft), take crampons, ice axes, helmets. We dress in harnesses. The guide ties us with a rope, explains the rules of the trip: put your legs wide, do not stop unnecessarily, wait for partners, take photos only at stops - the last recommendation will be the most difficult to follow: it is so beautiful all around …
Gray to blue
We follow our young guide foot by foot. The group of seven glacial dilettantes is not moving fast. Because it is also not easy to believe that crampons will keep your feet on a slippery surface. After a while, however, we start to go more efficiently. We slowly take on some-such practice.
The ice on the edge of the tongue is gray-gray. Clutteredrock debris, dust. The higher, the deeper the icy field, the whiter, purer, until blue it becomes. The hot sun melts its surface. Streams of water flow in deep crevices. We skilfully avoid them, looking only time and time inside: the sun's rays refract on strange icy shapes, they reflect in the water. Huge seracs, huge, cracked chunks of ice pile up next to us.
Slip
Observing the unusual play of light on the icy uneven surface, I allow myself a moment of inattention. This is a mistake. I lose my balance, fall over and slide down the ice grater. I hadn't even thought that the ice crystals were so sharp: I am ripping the skin off my legs and hands. Nothing serious, I did not go far, tied on a rope. But the punishment for staring is quite painful.
We go out to the snowy field. Here the ice is covered with a layer of never-melting snow. It even arrived a few days ago. When we at the seaside complained about the rain and clouds spoiling our views, it snowed here. This is northern Scandinavia. Even in July.
Again to the sea
We start the retreat. Step by step, carefully, down. Below us, in the distance, there is a steep glacier head, a lake into which it flows, then a fjord - a narrow sea bay closed on all sides by mountains. We are a bit tired from the four hour trip, but even more excited. For while it was no feat, just a standard walk for middle-class tourists, the fun was worth it. And maybe even the price.