The Bergen Line

Today we set off from Oslo to Bergen via the Oslo-Bergen railway; billed as one of the most scenic rail journeys in the world. We had high expectations as the day began.

Our first breakfast in Norway was interesting, as the buffet laid out contained very little that would be recognisable to a Briton as breakfast food. Taking the “when in Rome” approach, we had fish and cheese for our morning meal. Over breakfast we reflected on our afternoon in Oslo. It was, we decided, remarkably similar to London in atmosphere (if a little less crowded). This surprised me a little, as I had expected something more akin to a smaller British city.

After breakfast we made the short walk to Oslo Sentralstasjon a place which, if my friend Nina is to believed, travellers leaving Mos-Isley space port are warned about. When we arrived on the platform, our train was stood idling. Externally the string of vehicles, particularly its locomotive, appeared utilitarian and well worn, its livery dulled by its travels through the Norwegian mountains. Inside the train was clean and smartly upholstered. A range of luggage bays were provided, including a tall rack to accommodate skis; a facility which several Norwegians were availing themselves of, and a reminder that this train heads up into the mountains.

The ‘Komfort’ class carriage was not quite as plush as a first class compartment on a British Intercity or Eurostar Service, but seemed comparable to a First Class compartment on the French TGV (the principal differnatior being the more generous legroom on the NSB Komfort, traded against wider seats on the TGV).

As the train pulled out of the station (at 10:37, precisely as scheduled) the ‘scenic’ billing got off to a good start, as we passed through a long series of tunnels. As a civil engineer Chris loves to see good use of reinforced concrete (often insisting we stop to photograph dams, bridges and similar structures on our various travels). After the tunnels the houses of Oslo’s suburbs, clad in the colourful stained wood stereotypical of Norwegian dwellings.

Most of rest of the morning was spent gliding quietly through wide glacial valleys. A good reminder of GCSE Geography lessons, if a little bland in terms of scenery. By noon though, we were travelling beside wide, fast flowing rivers in the valleys between snow dusted peaks; a more ‘classical’ interpretation of ‘scenic’ rail journey. A wide range of dams and spillways was thrown into the mix, which pleased Chris greatly. The weather also improved, as we snuck out from beneath blanket of cloud that had been above us since landing in Oslo.

At one point we passed a “stave church” (number 13 on Lonley Planet’s list of things to see in Norway) in what Chris described as “drive by tourism”.

High tension power lines are built in many of the mountain valleys in Norway; their purpose is to prevent mountain trolls (the largest troll species) from blundering into the more populated areas of Norway.

The popping of our ears signalled that we were climbing higher, and subtle changes in the view betrayed the falling temperature; patches of snow beside the track, half frozen lakes and snow covered peaks disappearing into the clouds. We also saw evidence of lots of quarrying. From a visual inspection this appeared to be taking place with a greater respect for the surrounding environment than I have seen in any other such operation. Of course, to take anything less than the utmost care in a place as beautiful as this, would have been very offensive indeed.

By one o’clock we found ourselves passing through mountain scenery ranked amongst the best that I have encountered, punctuated by brief plunges into the narrow tunnels and cuttings that allow the railway to negotiate demanding terrain. My thoughts did turn to how glorious (and challenging) it would be do take this journey by bicycle, but the train also has its own appeal. The ability to write my journal/blog at will, read (that is in the few moments when my gaze wasn’t stolen by the scenery) and the delightful smell of chocolate from the hot drinks machine are /almost/ compensation enough for being without my trusty bicycle.

The clear cool lakes, reflect the mountain peaks; picturesque simply doesn’t come close to describing it.

Photography from a moving train is a challenging proposition at best, once you have framed your shot of the distant scenery, you can usually rely on some trackside object appearing in the foreground as you press the shutter release. By the mid afternoon, judging the right moment at which to take a picture became a something of a game.

The Bergen line is predominantly single track, so around 14:00 we stopped to allow an Oslo bound service to pass us. Climbing still further, the light dusting of snow became thicker, and great stalactites of ice could e seen clinging to some of the larger outcroppings of rock.

Come 15:00 we were travelling amongst the lower reaches of the cloud, the snow truly blanketing the countryside. The snow was several inches in depth, with drifts high enough to half bury some buildings; this is far and away the most snow I’ve ever seen. The skiers that had joined the train in Oslo began to alight at various ski resorts along the route.

The glare of the snow covered ground, contrasted against the complete darkness of the tunnels became quite uncomfortable at times. At a few points the view was nearly “whited-out”; a combination of light snow-fall, low clouds, the general difficulty picking out the horizon in the snow, and great plumes of snow kicked up by the passage of the train.

At 15:25 we arrived at the highest station on the Oslo-Bergen line, some 1,222m above sea level. In less than two more hours, the train would be beside the sea in Bergen; we were intrigued as to how this would be accomplished. Immidiatly upon departing from this highest point we entered a long stretch of tunnel. The dull glow of occasional lights mounted within revealed that the tunnel was simply hewn out of the imposing granite of Norway’s mountains, rather than being lined with the dull brick or concrete common to many.

We emerged from the tunnel on the far side of a large peak. This coincided with the return of the sunshine, which we considered rather ill timed (as we were almost blinded by the strange snowy brilliance).

Some of the early drafts of our itinerary called for us to cycle down this mountain and return to the top via the Flamm Railway (locomotive pictured). Given how completely blanketed the area was in snow, it seems that skipping this step was the right call.

Despite this being the snowiest scene I had ever encountered, there still a distinctive quality of Spring about the land we were passing through, most fully embodied in the sight of streams of water rushing down the mountain sides even as their banks were overhung with snow (a sight I was not adequately able to capture on camera, due to afore mentioned challenges of train-based photography).

The sunshine stayed with us and breath taking though the scenery is Chris said that it was becoming ‘old hat’; only for the view to catch his attention once again moments later. I suggest that after 6 hours the journey is ‘Used Hat – good condition’.

A (very) quickly thrown together series of video clips from our journey on the Bergen line.

As we headed into Bergen its self, I concluded that the Bergen line, was altogether impressive. I show no remorse for being unashamedly ‘touristy’ for the duration , with wide-eyed awe and constant picture taking. I think that rail journey was probably the cheapest per mile that I have ever taken, yet it was in comfortable seats, with included hot drinks and was absolutely stunning. Definitely a way to travel I can recommend.

An Ode to the Bergen Line

We set off from Oslo in seats that reclined
Although mechanical seating was not on my mind
I looked out the window at scenery fabled
One o’ the best in the world as lonely planet had labelled
As our journey progressed Dan pointed and said “Troll!”
But alas all was seen was fjords and small cols
Now I’m sitting down writing with hot water and lemon
A long time has passed since quarter past eleven.

- C. H. Vyse, Ode to the Bergen Line (19/04/2012 – 13:42)Читать далее