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Eco-tourism
City breaks |
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Physical Attraction Inside the Arctic Circle, you might expect Norway's Lofoten Islands to be dismal, snowbound places. But that's simply not so, as Nic Havers found out. Littered with anchors, fishing-nets, and wooden racks of drying cod, the surroundings of the blood-red rorbu fishing cottages are delightful. Photograph: Ingrid Rodriguez. Firstly, I had to find out where on earth they were. Even though I know where Norway is, it took some time to locate the Lofoten Islands on the world map. I find them right at the top of the world, completely isolated and within the Arctic Circle. The Scandinavian Airlines flight from London to Bodø, via Oslo, is the fastest way to get there. From Bodø, I take a ferry across to the islands. The ferry is quiet, only half-full. Studying a detailed map of the Lofoten Islands, they're oddly shaped, like vertebrae and deeply-incised by the ocean. This string of islands - made up of tongue-twister names such as Austvågøy, Gimsøy, Vestvågøy, Flakstadøy, Moskenesøy, Vaerøy, Røst and Hinnøy - run for a little over a hundred miles from top to bottom. They were first populated when Tore Hund, a fearsome
Viking warlord ruled the seas in long-ships, fighting the
bloody Battle of Stiklestad in 1030 AD. The backbone of the islands is called the
Lofotenveggen, or Lofoten Wall. As the ferry sails up the
narrow Trollfjorden, the Lofoten Wall becomes lunar-like
with spinach-green pinnacles rising 3,000 feet. My home for the week is at Svolvær, and in this stark
scenery, the accommodation is all about civilised comfort.
The traditional fisherman's cottages or rorbu ('ror'
meaning fishing boat, and 'bu' to live, or a small
dwelling) are painted blood-red and raised on stilts
around the stony harbour. My 150-year old rorbu goes
someway to show how fishermen used to live but still has
the comforts a tourist would expect. The rorbu are painted their distinctive colour using
an old paint mixed with cod liver oil. Inside, it's cosy
with fresh flowers and crisp linens. When I open the
curtains, I can see far up into the mountains in the
lemony sunlight. Artists are drawn here for the light and
the dramatic relationship between nature and the living
conditions of the local inhabitants. Outside my rorbu, anchors and fishing nets lie
scattered about. Cod dries on large wooden racks in the
sun. Some of the rorbu have their own rowing boat. Cod-fishing
is an important main-stay on the islands with the season
usually starting from March each year. The weather is sunny and very warm. On an afternoon
walk, I see a beach of sand so white that it hurts my
eyes to look. The ocean is almost fluorescent green.
Norwegian tourists are bathing in the warm shallows. A
fisherman’s shack is offering boat trips to watch
for whales, feed eagles or fish in the seas which churn
with migrating cod in the waters of the Gulf Stream. From the end of May to the 14th July each year, the
Lofoten Islands become the Land of the Midnight Sun, when
the sun never sets and you can go out for walks in broad
daylight at 3 in the morning. Meal-times are difficult affairs. The Lofotens serve
nothing but Norwegian food on its menus and choosing
which gorgeous dish to have is the hard part. Eventually
I order warm rhubarb soup, smorgasbord with seagulls'
eggs and lutefisk. When the meal arrives, it’s
delicious. The following evening sees me trying fried cod tongue,
followed by reindeer steak served with cranberry sauce, a
side dish of fishcakes and for dessert, Trondhjensuppe, a
milk soup with raisins, rice, cinnamon and sugar. On my first morning, after dawn rain, the skies clear and are swirling with birds. This is a paradise for bird watchers with eider ducks, puffins, oystercatchers and the white-tailed eagle. Excellent walking trails run in every direction. I walk into the interior of the island through sparse pastureland and bright-green peatbogs. I see cloudberries growing wild: these orange-coloured, sweet-tasting berries are considered to be a local delicacy. In the past 150 years, they were highly sought after
among sailors not for their superior taste, but for the
fact that they kept for a long time and were a good
source of vitamin C, thus effective in preventing scurvy. On the southern island, the deserted fishing station of Hell overlooks the Maelstrom, the waters west of the Lofoten Headland. These waters were first described by Edgar Allan Poe and Jules Verne, and have the strongest tidal current in the world. The Maelstrom has appeared on historic sea charts accompanied by terrifying illustrations and warnings. In 1555, the Maelstrom was described as an ocean vortex, devouring hundreds of great ships. Villagers from Hell described hearing whales bellowing
in rage as they swam involuntarily into the Maelstrom. The 115-foot deep Refsvikhula cave is gigantic, formed
like a cathedral, and contains red drawings of matchstick
men made by cavemen three thousand years ago. In July,
the Midnight Sun pours into the mouth of the cave filling
it with light and it is thought that this light shining
against the cave drawings was symbolic to Stone Age
people who performed rituals in the depths. Touring the islands by car or by public transport is
easy as the islands are connected by bridges or tunnels.
Stamsund is a particularly pretty port and whilst
I’m nearing the southern extremities of the islands,
the village of Å is worth a visit, especially the
Norwegian Fishing Village Museum. This is especially true of the Lofotens. In this northern outpost of Europe, commercialism is refreshingly absent. The scenery is wild and arresting, with wildlife obligingly on display. Come here to see the wildlife, enjoy the seafood and warm hospitality, lounge around sunbathing or swimming in the summer months, explore caves, go fishing or walk in the heights.
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