Jen’s adventure in Norway

My journey to Norway, like Graeme’s inaugural trip, was a bit of a convoluted one. But I have to say it was not altogether unpleasant to finish my book, look out the window over the Norwegian mountains and fjords and perhaps fit in the occasional nap on my way… You don’t get much of a chance to do those things when you’re travelling with two small children. I tried to capture some photos, but they just never seem to do the views justice!

The various plane journeys to Mosjøen went smoothly and, although he was immediately upstaged by two small Norwegian children jumping with joy to see their daddy, it was lovely to be greeted at the airport by a warm smile and a tight hug from my dear friend (I ignored the fact he was almost as delighted at timing things so that he didn’t have to pay any parking as he might have been to see me…)

Having followed the blog, I knew what to expect. The scenery, the long tunnels through the mountains, and the spectacular Helgeland bridge.

On the first evening, we drove past the now famous “Dønna Fallos” on our way from the ferry to where Graeme has been staying. I have to say it was much smaller than I thought it would be. Graeme suggested it was “just far away”, but I’m sure that’s what they all say… We did later get a chance to get a little closer for a photo, and I can confirm that it was in fact smaller than expected and not just a bit distant. I hope I hid the disappointment well. Size isn’t everything.

Even on that first journey there was so much to see along the road. I fear I became a bit of a nature-bore to G while I was out there – pointing out the wildflowers (have never seen so many cowslips) and naming the various birds, including getting altogether too excited about seeing a pair of my favourite bullfinches fly past on our walk one evening. I think I’ve taught him the difference between a magpie and an oystercatcher, and he’d be able to pick out a heron now. More lessons to follow on my next visit. I’m sure he’s delighted.

We live close to some farms here in Wormit, and my dad’s family are from a farming background, so the lambs were not an unusual sight to me. But there were sooooo many right at the front door, and I was particularly taken by one little pair – one brown and one black – who always seemed to be huddled or playing together when we passed. Nearly every time I stopped to take a photo they ran off. Except for one time when they seemed to be curiously playful and came trotting towards us. I crouched down close to try to get a good picture, only to learn that the fence was in fact electrified. I can’t help but think they had mischievous smiles on their faces when the little jolt went up my arm. I’m sure they lured me there with cruel intent. So there are no photos of them, and they were thenceforth declared my arch nemeses.

Graeme was very apologetic about having to work some of the time while I was staying, but actually some of those times when I followed him to work were among the most precious. I had a bit of a long lie on my first morning (unusual for me) so missed the first baptism, but I tagged along for the wedding in the early afternoon. Having worked so closely with Graeme at St Mary’s in Dundee for many years, it was nice to see him in his new surroundings. However, I did feel that the eponymous organist’s socks hadn’t featured enough yet in the blog, so I tried to grab a couple of shots. Sadly the pair that day they were not among the more exciting of his collection! The confirmation service was also very special. A full church with families and young people in traditional Norwegian dress and a really warming sense of community with some performances by the local young musicians and singers to display their talents. I can see why Graeme is starting to feel at home.

Tagging along to work also meant I was able to meet some of the people I’d heard so much about. The wonderful Trine, who works with the junior church in Dønna and Herøy and who is clearly well loved and respected by all around her. And deservedly so. Stig (the man in black), Bjørn (IT whizz), Svein (the warm friendly priest, who clearly shared Graeme’s love of extra large slices of cake), Jelena (altogether too kind about my bumbled attempts at singing Norwegian hymns), Marit (with her look of horror at the thought of Graeme wearing a “dress”) and of course the beautiful Laila, who has already become a great friend to Graeme and who is a huge support for him out there.

But it wasn’t all work. We did have lots of time to catch up and have adventures, too. We were very lucky with the weather during my stay, and enjoyed some great walks (lucky, as I’m not entirely sure what we’d have done otherwise) which included hills, obstacle courses, Graeme almost losing his boot in the squelchy mud and, on our way to the sunny rock, a particularly entertaining leap over a stream in the marshes which nearly ended in a very soggy kirkemusikker!

Laila kindly arranged a special trip to Heidi’s Chocolate Pier for our very own specially arranged chocolate tasting and coffee. Heidi was keen for Graeme’s advice on a piano for the tasting and entertaining area. She called him the “Piano Man”, a title that I’d already heard from the journalist who stopped us to speak about dogs in Sandnessjøen. She told us her mother plays with Dønnahorn and that she’d heard about Graeme. His reputation as the new local musician is spreading fast. Heidi suggested they might come to an arrangement for him to play at the Sjokoladebrygga in return for some chocolate. I could tell from Graeme’s response that this was not an unwelcome suggestion. His reputation for having a sweet tooth has spread quickly too. I have to admit that the kake og kaffe we had in the sunshine earlier in the week at Herøy Brygga were very tasty, and it was a warm pleasant afternoon by the water, so I’m not going to complain about that sweet tooth!

And now for the serious bit. Those who know Graeme and me well, will know I was very sad about him leaving us to go to Norway. Many tears were shed. Partly for selfish reasons. We’ve known each other for 23 years now, but we became particularly close in the last three or four years. We made quite the team while working together on Discovery Bach, and during lockdown we supported each other in losing 5 stone between us. We’ve laughed together and cried together, and I’d now call him one of my very best friends. Not that it’s always been plain sailing (watch out for grumpy Graeme, people of Dønna and Herøy…). But selfishness aside, I was also very worried for his wellbeing. It’s a big change to make at age fifty-plus – moving from a city to being isolated in such a rural community, with little to no Norwegian. He likes his own company does our Graeme, but in my humble opinion he needs a human connection more than he really thinks he does - even if it’s only nagging him to eat proper food, holding his hand going to the bank and helping him to choose a new suit ;-)

But I think he’s found a new home now. He told me on the change of scenery at every corner “I’ll never grow tired of seeing that”. I can see why. And his new friends value and support him so much already. I’m not worried about him now (well, not ALL the time, and that might change when winter darkness comes). But I do still miss him very much.

Here’s to the next trip…