You could say that the Norwegians invented fjords.
Their country is certainly home to some magnificent UNESCO-listed examples, and it is they who originated the word.
A rough line around Norway’s sea borders (the coastal perimeter) adds up to about 2,500 kilometres (1,600 mi). But, if you measure what is called the ‘low-resolution coastline’ which includes the nearly 1,200 fjords, islands, and bays, this perimeter increases tenfold to over 25,000 kilometres (16,000 mi).
The word “fjord” comes from an Old Norse word fjǫrðr (verb: ferd “travelling or ferrying”) for a lake-like body of water used for passage and ferrying. It has been adopted internationally – complete with the Nordic spelling (except in some place names, and in New Zealand English, where ‘fiord’ is preferred) – to describe the long, deep inlets of sea between high cliffs that were formed by the submergence of glaciated valleys. By geographic definition, a true fjord is created when years of glacial weight and abrasion cuts a U-shaped valley into the surrounding bedrock, and this is then flooded by the ocean.
Ironically, in Norwegian, Danish, and Swedish, the word fjord has a more broad and general usage than it does in English and in international scientific terminology. In modern Norwegian, fjord can refer to any inlet, channel, or long narrow body of water – even long, narrow freshwater lakes. This disparity of meaning has often lead to some confusion.
But, there was no doubt or confusion about the two fjords I was on: Aurlandsfjord, and the adjoining Nærøyfjord. Both are branches off the 205-kilometre long Sognefjord in Vestland county, Western Norway. Sognefjord, nicknamed the King of the Fjords, is the largest and deepest fjord in the country; Nærøyfjord, the narrowest and best known arm of the extensive Sognefjord system, has been called part of an “archetypical fjord landscape.”.
I had a full day in Flåm (see: A Walk in a Norwegian Wood), which sits at the inner end of Aurlandsfjord, and I took the opportunity to board a scenic cruise into the fjords. The shoulder season didn’t start until the next day (May 1st), so there were limited offerings. I was lucky, however, and managed the get onto the last afternoon sailing of the new hybrid catamaran, the Vision of the Fjords.
The two hour trip started from Flåm, and paused to take in some of the more spectacular of the many waterfalls in Aurlandsfjord before switching to full-electric mode and sliding quietly along the Unesco-listed Nærøyfjord to the tiny settlement of Gudvangen. From there, after the requisite souvenir shopping, we all boarded buses, and rolled back towards Flåm in the dark. The sun had already ducked behind the steep mountains: except in full summer, daylight can disappear pretty quickly in these deep valleys.
This is one of those landscapes you really have to experience for yourself; pictures cannot do justice to the sight of the valley walls rising straight up all around you, the deafening noise of the crashing waterfalls dropping hundreds of feet into the waters below, and the feel of the crisp spring air on your face as your tour boat slices through the narrow fjords.
Even so, I hope these pictures give you a small taste:
It is a truly magnificent landscape, and notwithstanding some controversy surrounding the touristic Viking Village at Gudvangen, it is clearly being well managed for the future, with respect for the environment, and a regard for past traditions and history.
Until next time!
Photos: 30April2018