Our summer mini-vacations in Norway at classic and historical hotels

We did mini-vacations in Norway this summer, much like last summer. The pandemic curtailed plans to travel abroad for many people, at least up until mid-July when the quarantine rules for those returning to Norway from trips abroad were relaxed. Until that point, returnees were forced to quarantine at quarantine hotels for ten days, regardless of vaccination status, which was not appealing. 

We decided to check out the classic/historical hotels here in Norway, within a decent driving distance of Oslo. Hotel Refsnes Gods is one of the classic hotels: Hotell Refsnes Gods by Classic Norway Hotels | Moss | Norway - Classic Norway It is about an hour's drive from Oslo, on an island called Jeløy in the Oslo fjord near the city of Moss. It is a beautiful island and an even more beautiful old hotel. We spent a weekend there; it was actually a delayed 30th wedding anniversary celebration, because our anniversary is in May, but the hotel was closed due to the major lockdown that Norway experienced from February until June. We had lovely warm weather that weekend, so we walked around the area near the hotel, and went down to the fjord. Whenever I visit these old hotels, I always wonder what it would have been like to have experienced being there a hundred or more years ago, when modern technology as we know it did not exist. I'm glad that these old hotels have been restored and that they are open to the public to enjoy. Refsnes Gods is well-worth visiting, both for the ambience and the food (the restaurant dinner was very good). 

Another hotel that we recently visited was the historical Hoel Gård on the Nes peninsula in Hedmark, on the banks of Lake Mjøsa: Hoel Gård at Nes - Historic hotels in Norway (dehistoriske.com). We can highly recommend this beautiful hotel for its lovely buildings, beautiful surroundings, very good food and very good service; it has been described as a 'pearl on Lake Mjøsa' located in 'Norway's Tuscany'. The estate on which it is located is lovely; large areas of it are utilized as a farm with its own production of chicken, grains, and potatoes, so that the restaurant at the hotel can truthfully boast that is is 'farm to table' since the produce is used in the restaurant. The grounds as I said are well-kept and lovely, with small flower gardens here and there. Again we had very nice weather for the days that we spent there. We stayed two nights in the 'Lukk Døren' ('close the door') room at the manor house, and one night in a charming little pavilion (summer house) called the 'bridal suite'. There were no televisions in any of the guest rooms, and that added to the feeling of being away from it all--a welcome feeling. There was a road leading down to the lake that was lined with trees on both sides, which bent over toward each other at the tops, forming an arbour of sorts. We walked down that road several times, joined by a pair of cute sparrow-like birds (lark sparrows?) that hopped in front of us as we walked, totally unafraid and very curious. Otherwise, outside the bridal suite were many wagtails; if you've never seen them strut about, you're in for a treat--they're very cute. 

Lake Mjøsa is Norway's largest lake, and as luck would have it, there is an old paddle steamship called Skibladner that makes regular tours back and forth between Gjøvik and Lillehammer, with stops at Brumunddal, Hamar and also at Nes (Hoel Gård--but only on Sundays). This info is from the Skibladner website (Velkommen til Skibladner -- verdens eldste hjuldamper i drift): 

'The world's oldest preserved paddle steamer in timetabled service, with live steam engines, paddle wheels and a speed of 12 knots. Skibladner is the pride of Norway's inland, and one of Norway's best-loved tourist attractions'. 

We were at the hotel from Monday to Thursday, so we did not experience watching the ship dock at the hotel's large pier. But we did experience eating lunch onboard in the ship's restaurant--good food and a pleasant atmosphere. Just being on the boat was enough for me; I love traveling on these old-time ships. 

Here are some photos of the hotels and of Skibladner. Enjoy!

Refsnes Gods hotel 

the Oslo fjord

sunset viewed from our Refsnes Gods hotel room patio looking out over the grounds and the fjord

the manor house at Hoel Gård 

restaurant seating outdoors at Hoel Gård on a lovely summer night 

tree-lined road leading down to Lake Mjøsa and the pier/beach

the bridal suite at Hoel Gård

at the pier and beach with views of the porters' houses at Hoel Gård that can be rented

view of the manor house from the bridal suite

beautiful Lake Mjøsa 

Skibladner

Wall clouds over the Oslo fjord

Oslo has experienced a fair amount of unstable weather for the past month or so. We have had days that start out sunny and warm, then the clouds roll in and darken the sky. Sometimes it rains, other times it doesn't. Sometimes we experience a brief rain shower, other times the rainfall is torrential. When we were sailing back to the harbor on Saturday after a pleasant boat trip on the Oslo fjord, I captured some of the really weird cloud formations that appeared around 6 pm local time. I say weird, because I've never seen anything like these formations before in Oslo. Perhaps they have occurred before and I just haven't seen them. I commented to my husband that one of the formations looked like the clouds you see in the Midwest (USA) when tornadoes form. And then I googled these types of cloud formations (square clouds) and found out that these types of clouds are called 'wall clouds', and sure enough, can be associated with the formation of tornadoes. I often wonder why we don't get more tornadoes in our part of the world. But we have experienced waterspouts; the Oslo fjord experienced a waterspout some years ago (https://norwaytoday.info/news/waterspout-oslo-saturday/) and in 2014 southern Norway experienced the same (https://www.thelocal.no/20140624/mini-tornadoes-stun-southern-norway).

Here are some photos of these weird cloud formations: 

never seen anything like this before

almost looks like a tornado is forming

Approaching sunset

We were out on the boat for Saint John's Eve, which is the night before John the Baptist's birthday. It is celebrated in Scandinavia as 'Sankthans dag', with bonfires lit along the coast once evening approaches. It is believed that the bonfires were originally lit in order to keep witches away. The day is celebrated right around the summer solstice, the longest day of the year. The summer solstice is also called Midsummer, and the bonfires may be celebrating that as well. When I first saw the bonfires in the early 1990s, it seemed like something out of a pagan ritual. Interesting to witness, for sure. But when we were out this past Saturday evening, there were very few bonfires, and the few that we saw seemed to be placed in deep pits, not on hills as was the custom earlier. It was a windy evening, and the weather has been mostly dry and warm the past two months, which has created forest fire conditions. People have been asked to be careful about using grills and lighting bonfires/campfires generally. So that was probably the reason for the very few bonfires. The evening was beautiful, and I took a couple of photos from the boat. In the second photo, you'll see light rings around the clouds nearest the sun. Pretty cool.

Autumn comes to the Oslo fjord

Autumn has been exceptionally lovely this year. The colors of the leaves--the reds, oranges and yellows--bold and pretty. The blue skies, warm temperatures; yesterday the temperature at midday was about sixty degrees Fahrenheit. Pretty good for Oslo. In previous years, it has been cold and gray already by mid-October. So in addition to a warm and sunny summer, I am grateful for this autumn, for the gradual transition from warm to cold. We were out on the boat yesterday for a few hours, and I took some photos of the trees and the foliage. My husband and boat captain Trond drove the boat around to the places I've photographed, before the boat decided that it had had enough for the day (motor problems). Enjoy!

Frognerkilen harbor

Oscarshall castle on the Bygdøy peninsula, Oslo, Norway

restaurant on the island of Gressholmen

Gressholmen

sailboat off the island of Hovedøya

Hovedøya foliage

The island of Gressholmen

This past Tuesday was another warm summer day in Oslo; blue skies with some clouds, even rather hazy toward the early evening. Perfect boating weather. My husband and I ended up out on the Oslo fjord for a few hours, first sailing past Tjuvholmen and Aker Brygge, then Rådhusplassen, and then around the island of Hovedøya where we sometimes end up if we’re in the mood for a really good seafood dinner. But this time we had taken dinner with us to eat on the boat—shrimp, a loaf of bread, and mayonnaise. We ended up docking at the guest marina on the small island of Gressholmen. It didn’t take the ducks and geese very long to discover that we had bread on the boat; they swam up to the boat to get some handouts shortly after we docked.

Gressholmen is a nature reserve with many types of wild flowers and plants; up until 2007 it was also home to thousands of rabbits, but they were unfortunately done away with so as to preserve the natural vegetation. The reason given for killing the rabbits was that they decimated the vegetation. I’m not sure this was the only reason, but who can argue with the nameless authorities and bureaucrats who make these decisions? The rabbits weren’t hurting anyone; in fact, they were one of the main attractions of the island. Cute, and tame enough so that they would hop right up to you as you walked along the island’s many narrow dirt paths. That happened to us any number of times. These days the island feels rather empty without them.

I took a lot of photos that evening, as the lighting and the weather were perfect. Some are of the island’s flower and plant life, some of the bird life, and one photo is of the summer restaurant, Gressholmen Kro (http://www.gressholmen.no/index.html), that we frequented much more often during the 1990s. It’s possible to get dinner here; we drank our after-dinner coffee here that evening, walking up from the boat to the kro and along the way stopping to look at the many wildflowers. And then back to the boat to greet more of the ever-present bird life.

Geese near the boat

Dirt path on the way to the restaurant, where we would often meet the rabbits when they were still alive

Wild rose bush

Wild rose

View of Oslo from Gressholmen

Wild roses

A twig that looked like a snake

Gressholmen Kro

Summer cottage at Nesoddtangen

We are currently vacationing for a week at a summer cottage on Nesoddtangen (the tip of the Nesodden peninsula). We have rented this particular cottage many times during the past twenty years that I have lived in Norway. The cottage was willed to the cancer hospital where my husband works, like several others available for summer rentals, by patients who felt that they had received good treatment there. At present, there are at least six (perhaps more) such cottages available for rental; through my hospital the number is about the same. Some are cottages in the mountains; others are cottages on the sea. Our cottage, situated on the Oslo fjord, is about a twenty-five minute ferry ride from Oslo. It is far enough away from the city to get the feeling that one is out in the countryside, yet near enough to it via the ferry if there is reason to make the trip. In the ‘old days’ (early 1990s), we would sometimes take the ferry or our own boat into the city, to the Aker Brygge shopping area, to do some necessary grocery shopping, fill up on supplies, eat lunch at one of its many restaurants, or just walk around and window-shop. With our boat we were able to take longer boat trips around the Nesodden peninsula or to Drøbak, a lovely little coastal town about an hour’s boat ride from Nesoddtangen. One year we rented the cabin in September, even though we no longer were on vacation; we lived there for the week and went into work each day by boat. We would make a thermos of coffee for the trip and drink it on the way into Oslo harbor, shivering in the chilly autumn air.

Cottage at Nesoddtangen

The other night, as I sat writing in the cottage’s large living room, I noticed that storm clouds were gathering and the wind was picking up. I could hear it blowing around the cabin. It was only 7pm, but storm clouds filled the sky, threatening rain later on. The weather has been so unstable this summer; torrential rains one day followed by a day with hail and snow (in some areas of Oslo). That was last week. Other days are warm and sunny, like today, a real summer day, when the blue skies seem to go on forever. But as far as the weather goes, one needs to be prepared for all eventualities. After twenty years here, I have learned to take the weather in stride. 

Fireplace at the cottage

The first evening of our arrival at the cabin, it was chilly, so my husband lit a fire in the large red-brick fireplace in the corner of the living room. The fire’s warmth, topped off by a cup of hot chocolate, made everything alright with the world, and it didn’t matter if it was chilly outside in the middle of summer. The following day, the temperatures were warmer, although the sky was still a bluish-gray, dominated by large storm clouds--rain was predicted. During late afternoon, the winds pick up and don’t die down until around 8pm. Sometimes you can hear the wind blowing almost mournfully through the trees during the night, a sound that takes some getting used to, because it is so continual. And this year, unlike previous years, the cottage grounds are literally infested with brown Iberia snails; it’s difficult not to step on them. They have become quite a problem in recent years for the eastern part of Norway.

Brown snail on road

My early memories of being in Norway are bound up in visits to this cottage during the summers, in large festive parties that we managed to throw on meager budgets in the early days, pleasant times with relatives, friends, and their children. We often sat out until late in the evening, talking and laughing. It would be light outside until 11pm. Sometimes there was someone who played guitar, and we sang along. During the day, the children played along the shore, looking for mussels to crack open so that they could be used as bait for crabs. The crabs were always tossed back into the water; too small to eat. I used to love photographing the jellyfish—two kinds-brennmanet (Lion's mane jellyfish, which is a stinging jellyfish with long tentacles) and glassmanet (generally non-stinging). The former look like fried eggs sunny side up; the latter are fragile-looking, glassy in appearance, and quite beautiful with their green and pink hues. I love watching how they move and swim. I don’t see many of them this year, unfortunately. 

Brennmanet or Lion's mane jellyfish

Sometimes at night we would go down to the wharf where our boat was moored and look at the small bioluminescent creatures in the water (phytoplankton). They were like little dots of light flickering in the dark water, which was filled with them. During lazy afternoons we would go berry-picking; there were raspberry bushes in front and off to the side of the cottage (there are still a few) and along the road leading down to the ferry. If we were lucky we found wild strawberry bushes.

Much has changed during the past twenty or so years, in regard to the cottage itself as well as its visitors. When we first used to come here, drinking water had to be drawn up from a well, and drawing it up was hard work. The cottage had no bathroom—no shower or toilet; rather an outhouse that I do not remember fondly. I remember hating outhouses already as a young child; one of our favorite family picnic areas in Pound Ridge, New York had outhouses instead of regular bathrooms-- the outhouses themselves were unpleasant places to enter—dark and filled with flies, and the smell was awful and pervasive. Over the years, the outhouse at the cottage was replaced by what was called an environmental toilet located in a ‘bathroom’ of sorts attached to the house, and this year, to our (happy) surprise, that room has now been converted into a regular bathroom with a full shower, sink and toilet. Most ‘cottages’ now in Norway are quite luxurious (and not really cabins at all)—arrayed with all the trimmings—radiant floor heat, state-of-the-art kitchens and bathrooms, exemplifying the accumulation of personal wealth in this country over the past twenty years. People want convenience and comfort now. When it comes to having a nice bathroom, I am in that group. But otherwise, I am content with the simple trappings of this cottage. Many of the couples with whom we socialized early on are no longer together. Some have new partners and new lives, and are no longer in our circle. Those couples who are still together now vacation in warmer places—where sun and warmth are guaranteed. I can honestly understand their wish for sunshine, warmth, and stable summer weather. Sometimes I miss the old days though. Some relatives are quite elderly now, too frail to make the journey to visit us at the cottage. We make the journey to visit them instead. The children who used to come here are grown up now and will soon be having children of their own. My husband and I are alone at the cottage this week, enjoying our time alone, reading, writing (me), sleeping, shopping for groceries, watching TV in the late evenings, and being generally lazy. Time passes slowly, but it passes and moves us onward. Next week I will be in New York for my annual visit. When I remember back to our time at the cottage, during the wintertime perhaps, I will wonder what it was we did each day at the cottage. But then I look at photos and remember; today my husband picked wildflowers, yesterday we were able to barbecue, today we took a long boat trip, and so on. I look at him, at our life, and wonder how it is that more than twenty years have passed since we first got together, since I first moved to Norway. Time for reflection will do that to you; nostalgia, memories, common sense, acceptance of life, of aging, of watching the next generation take over for ours; all of these things seem more intense to me when I have the time to reflect upon them. It does not make me sad; it’s more that I register my tiny place in the scheme of things, in the universe, and my small contributions to the life around me. I have to say that things feel right with the world when you know where and how you fit into the scheme of things. It’s good to get perspective.

Fjord view from the cottage, with our wooden boat (mid-picture)

Sunset at Nesoddtangen and the docked passenger ferry

Wildflowers that my husband picked