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Can you see what we eat?
After the meal we had coffee in the "peisestua", the livingroom with the hearth.
Wendy, the sixth picture down is a "stabbur" a storeroom for food on the old farms. To keep the mice away there is always some space between the stairs and the door.
Susan, how great that you have been to Røisheim. I wish I could take all my blogging friends there..... Well, of course I can't. But tomorrow I plan to take you on a blogride along Norwegian fjords, up Norwegian mountains.
Terje and I have a tradition which we both love. Every summer we visit one of the old traditional wooden hotels in Norway, to spend a night. A night in old fashioned luxury, a night with a lovely Norwegian dinner.
There are alot of old hotels to choose among. I have several books about them, and I search on internet, showering Terje with suggestions. Let's go there, oh look here, this one looks great!
A week ago our choice for this year fell on Røisheim. I sent an email to check if they had a room available for us, and soon afterwards I got an email back - Wecome to Røisheim. We can give you the most romatic room we have here.....
Here is what Røisheims own pamflet writes about the place:
This old coaching house consists of 14 related buildings from the 18th century. Røisheim has a long tradition of looking after dicriminating, adventurous tourists - whether heading for the peaks of Jotunheimen or seeking out the preserved old atmosphere of this coaching house and its famous cuisisne. After 150 years as coaching house and hotel, Røisheim still reigns supreme as the ultimate that Norway can offer. Set in a rich landscape, the wood of its buildings blackened with tar, the bedrooms and reception rooms have been sensitively restored. The hosts ensure the very best treatment for all guests. Many wish to walk up nearby Galdhøpiggen - Norway's highest mountain - during their stay. But Røisheim remains a love affair.
Dinner is served at Røisheim every night at 8.30. We had a long, long drive from our summer village, leaving Marta "on the road" to go to Denmark with relatives, but we came to Røisheim in time for a shower and a few photos before the old outdoor dinner bell rang.
The dinner, created and cooked by the hostess of Røisheim, needs its own blogpost. Come back tomorrow and I can guarantee you leave my blog craving some good, Norwegian food.
Let's meet then, at Røisheim, shall we?
Yesterday was our 29th wedding anniversary. We spent the night at Røisheim Hotel(posts to come) and this morning we are busy bathing in this old wooden bathing tube. Blogging has second priority......
At 6am this morning we waved goodbye to farfar (grandpa) and to our summer village. Two hours later it was time to wave goodbye to Marta; she will spend the coming week in Denmark with Mathilde and her family.
Terje and I are on the road all day, on our way north to one of our beloved wooden hotels.
It is a sunny, HOT day, and blogging in the car makes me slightly sick. I'll let the photos give you the words to this post.
Near my summer village there are new things to see and explore every day. I am already making a list for next year.
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Thank for your comments to yesterday's post. I love your ideas.
AngelaD, I never saw the angel untill your mentioned it, now I see it clearly. Thank you so much.
To you all, the farm, is not a miniature, it is a real farm, though a quite small one. Real people lived here for generations.
There are two small houses built under the huge mountain. Rain never reach them, the sun shines in through the windows only for a short time every day. The winders are long and dark. The houses are small. You must bend to enter through the door.
The only information I have about the houses is that they were built 200 years ago.
I find old houses uttery charming. Romantic. Seeing ony the bright sides of life.
I have dreamed up stories of this little farm. Stories about several generations living here.
I am not going to share any of those now, but I have a challenge for you dear readers. Use the comment section to let me and all the other readers know about your story of these two small houses. Who lived here? How was life? Meals? Clothing? Social life? Dreams?
I look forward to read your thoughts.
Photos: a small farm 30 minutes from my summer village
Copyright: text and photos Britt-Arnhild Wigum Lindland
After a quiet morning in the sun with my books, I was ready for another sightseeing. Am I getting restless? Terje wanted to do another hike, up on the hills behind father in law's house, to a small lake for swimming, but I just knew - my feet were not fit for another hike the day after Preikestolen.
"Why don't you go for your hike" I said, "I'll take the car and drive over to Sokndalstrand". But when Marta heard that, her feet told her quite clearly that they would prefere driving to hiking, so in the end all four of us went, me, Terje, Marta and father in law.
Sokndalstrand is such a charming place, old whitepainted wooden houses, small galleries, shops and restaurant. It is still too early in the season for the hoards of tourists, and several of the shops were closed. But we spent a lovely hour walking around and finally sitting down with a cup of coffee and some icecream.
Do you want to walk along with us? Come on!
Look at the reflection of the house in the window.....
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Not glass from Venezia, but I still bought one for my collection
Can you see the happy, raised hands? They belong to Marta, cousin Tone and Terje. I could have been with them, but somebody needed to be behind the camera.
Yesterday we hiked up to Preikestolen, The Pulpit Rock,an amazing mountain a couple of hours from where my father in law lives.
Together with 1 million tourists (false), 2 million flies (true!) and 3 million steep steps (true!!), we made it up to the top, and down again. The downhill climbing was the hardest on my knees. But I feel so absolutely proud to make this blog post, showing the world that I made it :-)
Between the tips of our noses and the sea - 608 meters.
It was a steep walk, and difficult to walk on the stones. I had to concentrate, and alot of the time my eyes were fixed on the stones under my feet. At one point I lamost stepped on a small ant. It was so busy, waking with her goal ahead, not seeing any of the beauty around her. As my thoughts reached this point I rised my eyes and the Preikestolen plateau was right in front of me. The beauty was so intense it sent waves down my spine. The ant kept on and saw none of this.
How often is our life like this. We look right ahead, busy with our everyday life. never time to rise our eyes to see the beauty.
Sometimes I wonder why I keep on travelling the world with all this beauty of Norway around. Then I think twice, and I know :-)
There are so many gates in my life. Open gates, closed gates. new gates and old gates. Charming ones, beautiful ones, ugly ones.....
Some gates are open all days, all nights. Some are closed.
I struggle to open a few ones, and at the same time I strive hard to keep a couple ones closed as I think they are meant to be closed.
Gates fascinate me.
Photo: a gate in the vicarage garden in my summer village
Copyright text and photos: Britt-Arnhild Wigum Lindland
Marta and her youngest cousin, the dog Winnie.
Farfar (grandpa) Sverre can also be seen in one of the photos.
For 30 years I've spent part of the summer in the small village Moi southwest in Norway. This is the village where my husband was born and lived for 19 years, this is the place where my father in law still lives and has lived for 86 years.
Some summers we have stayed here for several weeks, other times just for a few days. This year we have one week ahead of us, enjoying sun, long days of leisure and my father in law's wonderful cooking.
We came here Saturday night, just before midnight, and yesterday I did several long walks - essential with all this great homecooked food.
29 years ago I spent several weeks here as a newly wed. Then, as now, I was an avid letter writer, and every day I found letters addressed to me in my in-laws' mailbox. Some of the letters had missing/wrong spelled addresses, but the postman always found me. One day Terje and I wanted to test this. We were away on a day trip, bought a postcard, wrote a few words on it and on the address lines wrote ONLY: Britt-Arnhild, Moi.
The next day I found the postcard in the right mailbox :-) What a small world.
We have made a few plans for our upcoming week. The most important of them all is being together.....
.....though just now, writing this post (Sunday night), Marta and I have fled the livingroom and the television with soccer/football........
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