Woodstock's Blog
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By education and experience - Accountant with a specialty in taxation. Formerly a CPA (license has lapsed). Masters degree in law of taxation from University of Denver. Now retired. Part time work during baseball season as receptionist & switchboard operator for the Colorado Rockies. This gig feeds my soul in ways I have trouble articulating. One daughter, and four grandchildren. I share the house with two cats; a big goof of a cat called Grinch (named as a joke for his easy going "whatever" disposition); and Lady, a shelter adoptee with a regal bearing and sweet little soprano voice. I would be very bereft if it ever becomes necessary to keep house without a cat.
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Remembering

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Norway spells fjords, right?

In the summer months, the coastal steamer makes a nine hour detour from Alesund up the Geiranger Fjord (100 kilometers long)and back to its northbound route.

Photos here

As you can see, the entire trip is a feast for the eyes - with breathtaking vistas of forested cliffs, too many waterfalls to count, and little villages tucked in shallow valleys beside the fjord.

We got very skimpy information on the ship's public address system about the farms located on the cliffs above the fjord, many of which are clearly visible as you sail along. This exasperated our tour leader, Jens, who had worked in the area as a tour guide while he was a college student. He had a DVD for us to watch which portrayed the history of those little farms and the hardships endured by their residents.

Having a farmstead in the sky meant self reliance, independence and freedom to the persons who lived there. As improbable as it seems, they enjoyed an active social life with others living nearby. This meant walking over extremely unforgiving terrain, combined with struggles down the side of the fjord to a boat, and of course, back up again when returning home.

Most kept cows and goats, and to quote the soundtrack of the film we saw "Grass was everything." They harvested grass to dry for hay from every imaginable nook and cranny around rocks and boulders, usually with small hand held tools. Wives and children helped, usually tethered to a strong rope to avoid tumbling over the side of the cliff. When the occasional goat tumbled over the side or got stuck in the rocks, one family member (usually the wife or teenaged son) tethered up, climbed down to the goat, dumped it into the fjord below where the farmer waited in a small boat to fish it out, and of course, make the climb back up again.

Children left the farm for the week to attend school in a nearby village, and returned home for the weekend. Medical help was very difficult to come by, as you can imagine. Avalanches and rock slides were constant threats as well. At least one farm we could see had been laid out in such a way as to tuck the buildings up against the rock wall to provide a shelter from avalanches thundering down.

The Second War brought a gradual end to this way of life, and most of these farms now stand abandoned, with one or two occupied on a seasonal basis by their owners, and providing rustic tourist accomodations for those who make the climb. Others are being restored by various volunteer groups who wish to preserve the memory of this unique part of Norwegian history.

We were very fortunate that Jens had a personal interest in these farms. Through his eyes, we learned quite a bit we would not have known about with another leader.



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