doings

January 2011

1 January. Goats may fly. Hard to believe that it's 20 years this year since we moved to Norway for the second time (when we went to M�ndalen). If you were around at the time you may remember that our arrival was a real storm. On new year's day a hurricane picked up a nearby barn and blew it at the house we were living in, more or less destroying it, and we made a perilous escape over the fields, dodging flying hen houses and things. As we went to bed last night (or rather, very early this morning) gale-force winds brought back memories from 20 years ago. This morning, all was quiet outside. And the house was still intact and all as it should be, except ... "Where's the trampoline?" We have a big trampoline, firmly anchored in the side garden, so that we can have a quick hop on the way to the barn. But this morning it had gone. Absolutely no-where to be seen. On closer examination there was a little trail of destruction across the countryside (click here to follow the trail). Some quarter of a mile up the valley (just behind next-door's farm) the trail ended with a slightly-battered trampoline sulking amongst some rocks. We captured it and brought it home. "But where's the goat?", asked Andrew. "What goat?", we asked. Apparently the farmer (who has gone away for new year with his family) had left a dead goat roughly where we found the trampoline, meaning to deal with it when he got back. We didn't go on a goat hunt, but if you look out of the window and see a goat flying by, do let us know.

2 January. Andrew at work at the ski centre again today (click photo, left, to see what he's doing there today). And Katie riding a neighbour's horse (photo, right).

3 January. Searching for signs of spring (photo, left). Following the flight of the trampoline, we counted up the springs still left on it, together with the ones found along the route it took, and discovered that there were eight missing. So far, seven have been found, so Katie, Andrew and Tim spent part of this morning searching the fields. But now it's snowing so there's not much chance that it'll turn up for a while, at least!

4 January. Out with the old, in with the new. When our washing machine refused to get into a spin - or to do anything else, for that matter - it was, typically, just before Christmas. By now we're starting to smell. Our very first washing machine, back in Lur�y, 20-odd years ago, was a Zanussi. We were very happy with it, so we're nostalgically giving the Appliance of Science another go. I seem to remember from the TV adverts in those days that Zanussi appliances are delivered by light beam from the far-flung planet on which they're assembled, which seemed a good way of getting delivery to �rsdalen. It was supposed to arrive yesterday, but the journey from Alpha Centuri or wherever is a long one, so its arrival today wasn't so far off the mark. It didn't arrive by light beam, but - bizzarly - by taxi. The meter was showing the sort of amount that suggested that the taxi really had come from the next solar system but one, but as we'd paid the set price for delivery that wasn't our problem. Tongue slightly in cheek we asked the taxi driver if he was expecting to take away the old machine. He said that he hadn't received had any instructions on that matter, so he's now driven away with an old washing machine in the boot. (Photo, right: Matt wiring up the new machine. Click for enlargement).

5 January. Bilingual scrabble before bed (click photo, left, for enlargement).

6 January. We've really not had that much snow yet this year, so when six inches or so fell last night (very little by normal standards) there was a sense of relief. Andrew and Katie went out skiing; Tim had to make a brief visit to work. (click photo, right, for four pictures of the road out of �rsdalen today).

Delivering the post. One or two people have wondered how an address like "Hovland 4389 Vikes�" can actually identify our house. The answer is that it doesn't - it just identifies the village, but the postman knows where everyone lives so it's OK. We don't have a house number or street name. But the "postman-knows-everyone" system has its failings too. Someone in a nearby village subscribes to an English-language Christian magazine, which arrives by airmail every couple of months. We know this because it keeps landing in our letterbox (even though the name on the label isn't ours, and the address is a totally different village). The postman seems to just take one look at the content and assume it must be for us. So if you feel a sudden urge to send us a copy of Plumbing Quarterly or Bat Collector's Digest in Albanian, don't bother. The postman won't believe it's for us and will probably give it to someone more suitable.

School was supposed to start back yesterday, but due to the fire the start of term has been delayed until Monday, to the inexpressible disappointment, of course, of Andrew and Katie.

8 January. Fun in the garden this evening (click photo, left to see).

9 January. Last year at this time we had five feet of snow, which just stayed intact until Easter. This year is very different. It's a lot warmer, which means that the snow is damp and heavy. Some days it thaws a bit, then snows again on top. The warmer weather makes driving a lot more difficult. When it's minus 20 and stable snow, the studdied tyres grip the compressed snow on the road and driving is very straightforward. But when the thermometer reaches 0 degrees and the surface snow starts to melt, whilst the ground is still hard frozen underneath, it's a very different story. So different that there's even a word for it in the Norwegian language: "nullf�re" - "zero driving conditions" - which refers both to the temperature and to its effect (photo, right, of "nullf�re" - click photo if you want to try driving on it today). Water and loose snow on top of ice, with the added excitment of erratic pools of water into which the car suddenly plunges, spraying the windscreen. And sure enough the thermometer was exactly 0° today. Being a modern market economy, snow clearing on the roads is put out to tender, which means that there are some oddities. �rsdalen is (of course) one of them - the man who is supposed to clear the roads here is a farmer who lives miles away - over an hour's drive in his tractor. This means that his visits are rather less frequent than people here would like, and it's often almost impossible to get out of the valley due to the state of the road. And now people are up in arms about it. Us in particular, as both Tracy and Tim need to get out of the valley for services early on Sunday morning - one time when we can almost guarantee that the road won't have been cleared. But also the neighbouring farmer who couldn't get home last night with his family after their holiday in Gran Canaria. Time for a visit to the mayor (which is the usual way of sorting out problems here).

The other result of damp, heavy snow is that the power has been off all day. Presumably some cables have been brought down by the weight. No power is not a problem for us in terms of heating (we only heat by log fires anyway) or even cooking (we can boil water and do simple cooking in a pot over the wood-burning stove) - the real problem is that we have no water because the well runs on an electric pump. At least there's plenty of snow on the ground, so we can always melt that (click photo, right, of snow in pan to see dinner in progress without running water or electricity - it tasted good!).

In the absence of electricity, this page was updated first at church and later in a hotel in Stavanger, where Tim is staying the night on the way to North Cape extremely early tomorrow.

10 January. Tim at North Cape. Today's journey involved a 6am flight from Stavanger to Oslo, a long flight from Oslo to Troms� and then the local flight from Troms� to Honningsv�g (North Cape) (click photo, left, for two pictures). There was a handful of passengers for the last flight, of whom the majority got off at Hammerfest. Only one passenger got on at Hammerfest: a surprisingly substantial lady who flopped into one of the seats at the front of the plane. She was politely moved to the back by the steward, who told her that it's useful to keep all the weight at the back on a Twin Otter. The safety procedures followed ("is there anyone who's not seen all this life jacket and exits stuff? No? We'll drop all that then" and a call through the open door into the cockpit: "OK Lars, take her away") we left. The fantastic flight over the deserted coastline brought back many memories. Hundreds of miles of empty mountains: a blue landscape in which the dark blue sea contrasts with the light blue snow. And once in a while an island with half a dozen lights on it - sign of an �rsdalen-sized village a couple of day's journey from anywhere. The airport is just beyond a large mountain. I could have sworn the wheels brushed the snow on the peak as we passed, before the plane heads down at a 45° angle, like a child's toy being guided down for a swift landing. Meetings this evening and tomorrow morning, then the same journey in reverse to get home for tomorrow evening (click photo, right, for pictures).

11 January. Odds and ends from today's news in Norway. 200 people are stuck in a road tunnel due to snow drifts at both ends. They're hoping to be dug out before Spring. Rather less accidentally stuck in a snow drift - two thieves in a van along a dead-end road were imprisoned by large snow walls hastily constructed by the local snow-plough driver. They were apparently quite relieved to be rescued by a police digging team. And a (thoroughly healthy) OAP was offended to receive a letter from his bank saying "We note that the account holder is dead ... we therefore request information about change of address in this connection".

13 January. Cat and mouse.

It's the same routine every morning. Two dogs rubbing their stomachs and trying to look starved and neglected at the same time as working together to block any other possible activity or route other than towards the stables, where their breakfast bar is. Dog food is kept in a big, dog-and-everything-else-proof plastic chest with a lid. The lid has recently shown signs of excavation work in progress. This morning I opened the lid and, as usual, scooped up a plastic cup full of dog biscuits. I lifted it up to throw the contents into the nearest bowl. Sitting neatly on top of the cupful of biscuits was a small mouse, looking at me in that bemused "can I help you?" kind of way that mice adopt in such situations. The cup was quickly diverted into another plastic storage tub with well-fitting lid, which is kept permanently on hand for just such occasions. The mouse can join all the snakes and other deported undesirables on the other side of the river, when I get round to it. For the moment it's got a few dog biscuits to chew inside its box. And the dogs have had a good gallop in the snow and are now settled in front of the fire to sleep off the effects.

Just about every Norwegian fridge contains at least one half-empty tin of mackerel in tomato sauce; the other half is usually on someone's packed lunch that day. You can also be fairly sure that the name on the tin is "Stabburet" - Norway's biggest producer of such things. Over the weekend, some uninvited guest has tampered with Stabburet's website and added a new product to their range - tinned cat in tomato sauce. According to the website, this product will be popular with the Chinese population in Oslo, as well as helping reduce the number of stray cats in the city. The Stabburet management was apparently unaware of this new "product" when rung by the NRK news, and it was hastily removed from their website.

Avalanches!
14 January. The visit to the mayor resulted in a couple of heavy machines which have spent all week trying to get the ice up from the road, dig away drifts and so on. They've not made it all the way into �rsdalen yet but the mayor was hopeful today that they should be here very soon. It seems unlikely. It's snowed a couple of feet in �rsdalen this evening - and more than twice that amount beyond the tunnel - and the road is currently closed because of avalanche danger. Andrew's been working at the ski centre this evening and I've just been to pick him up. The snow is right up to a level with the barriers at the sides of the road - and showing no signs of stopping.

Tracy has no musician for her Sunday-morning service (if this snow carries on they won't have a vicar either) so the solution was to record her hymns on the piano at home (click picture, left, for photos). We waited until Katie was in bed and made a start. As soon as the first verse of the first hymn started, Tune discovered a regiment of fleas and had to leap up and commence a wild scratching, accompanied by very vocal "ooh"s and a bit of cavorting on the lounge floor. Fudge, not to be left out, cantered across and laid his chin on the keys. And it's inspired Matt to sit in the kitchen and play the guitar. And now the phone's ringing. We'll get there.

15 January. Weather stable overnight - we're waiting to hear whether the road will re-open this morning. In the meantime, how's this film clip from NRK news for a snow hole, dug over the last couple of days by some teenagers near Trondheim? (To play film clip, point mouse over picture, then click the arrow).

Lunchtime. The road's just been opened - but is under threat of immediate re-closure at any time, for an unlimited period (still because of avalanche danger). Tomorrow's services are looking very uncertain. Even school on Monday ... So we had a snowball fight in the garden this afternoon (click photo, right, for pictures, or click here to watch film).

Evening. Road closed completely. Tomorrow looking even more uncertain! They'll be making a decision at 9am.

16 January, 10am. Quite some morning. It's warmed up and is raining hard. We couldn't get hold of the man at 9am (no phone reception) so we set off towards his house (the other side of the tunnel). Half way up the hill we met an avalanche coming down. It was a wall of wet snow, bushes, earth and the remains of a small sheep pen, and it was moving down the road at a few miles an hour. We stopped and were soon surrounded by it all. The avalanche went on as far as we could see ahead up the road. Once things had settled we put the car in low-range gears, made one half-hearted attempt to drive through the three-foot deep slush now covering the road, and then started to reverse towards home. Half way back down, we met one of our neighbours coming up in a tractor, armed with a whole range of large snow-clearing equipment. We turned and followed it. He didn't try to clear the mess on the road, but at least we could follow in the tractor tracks. A little further up, a deep river was now running across the road, with the remains of what looked like a barbed-wire fence. He drove over it but we stopped (without tractor tyres we weren't up for driving over barbed wire!) (We had no camera with us: click picture, left, for some photos which were taken later in the day once things had improved). We watched as he drove further up towards the next bend in the road (which was also crossed by the same avalanche). He didn't make it all the way - a short distance further on he stopped, and then turned round and came back. Apparently there was a third avalanche there, with heaps of snow, rocks and trees much bigger than his tractor. So that was the end of trying to get out today. We've come home and put the coffee on. Tracy's going to deliver her sermon by Skype, projected onto the screen at church (photo, right - "The Armchair Priest" - click for enlargement). We don't know how long the road will be closed for, but I can't see anyone getting in or out of �rsdalen today or tomorrow, at least. There's talk of running the ferry again over the lake.

So now we're spending the afternoon at home watching avalanches (one every couple of minutes coming down the sides of the valley).

Evening. Now confirmed that the road will definately not be open tomorrow (and snow-clearing staff have been evacuated), so the kids have another day off school. They went weeping to their beds. Thomas Andrew just had a phone call from a neighbour with a request for help. The neighbour had been in his barn with the door open when a large avalanche swept in through the door and made its own exit through the opposite wall, narrowly missing the farm generator (they don't have mains electricity) and the tractor. So it was all hands on deck to clear up, and he returned wet and cold a little later- One of Andrew's photos was used on the NRK news (click small photo, right, for enlargement). Some sheep were hurt by broken glass, but otherwise it could have gone a lot worse - as it did for a snow-plough driver only a couple of miles from here (as the mole burrows) the other side of the mountain. His snow plough was swept away by an avalanche and into a lake. They're now using an unmanned mini submarine to search, but there's no hope of survival and they can't get close to the site due to danger of new avalanches.

The problem, in case I was unclear, is not the amount of snow (which is perfectly normal) but that the weather suddenly warmed up dramatically and it started to rain, which makes all the snow very unstable.

17 January. For safety reasons no snow-clearing people are being allowed anywhere near the mountain, so the road will be closed not only today but at least through tomorrow (Tuesday). We're fine - plenty of food and supplies - and enjoying a short holiday at home. We were running a bit low on milk today so we went down to a neighbouring farm to get a pint. Because of the closed roads they will have to dump a thousand litres of milk into the lake this afternoon, so we came back with a couple of gallons (and some home-made butter) (photo, left). So we're now busy with every kind of milk-consuming baking. Any suggestions on uses for milk (bearing in mind that Tracy is not Cleopatra and besides, that was asses)?

The Armchair Priest hits the national news. National paper V�rt Land has printed a story (also available on their internet edition) about Tracy's Skyped sermon on Sunday (click picture, right, for larger copy). "Nature didn't manage to get the redoubtable priest to cancel the service in Sandnes" and all that.

The same story has also been re-run in the regional paper - the Stavanger Aftenblad - and at even greater length in the more local Egersund newspaper, including a nice play on words about spending the morning in a lenestol (=reclining chair) instead of a prekestol (=pulpit).

�rsdalen also hit the NRK news because of the avalanche that went straight through our neighbour's barn (the one that Andrew helped dig out afterwards). The news report is all in Norwegian and the pictures not especially dramatic because by the time the reporters got here the next day by helicopter the whole place had been cleared up, but if you want to see it, it's on NRK's web archive.

18 January. The road will not be open today, either, so tomorrow (Wednesday) will be yet another day off school for Katie and Andrew. But all being well the road will probably be re-opened during the day tomorrow, after the best part of a week in which the rest of the world has suffered isolation from �rsdalen.

STOP PRESS. A tractor has just arrived from the outside world - we're now (well through Tuesday evening) re-connected: a little earlier than expected. Katie will wake up tomorrow to the news that there will be school after all. The NRK's evening news opens with a picture of someone digging out the opening to the �rsdalen tunnel (click photo, left, to watch the clip).

20 January. The world is back, though actually it doesn't make a lot of difference. Everything carried on much as normal in the valley, and there was nothing we lacked. The road through �rsdalen (the subject of all the villagers' complaints about lack of snow clearing) has a 5-inch thick layer of ice on it, full of ruts and canyons that try to pull your car off track and into the river. Driving has been rather exciting, and the post lady has threatened to stop coming. The mayor has promised to send those machines today to break up the ice, but we'll take that with a pinch of salt (so to speak).

21 January. Machines arrived and have worked through the night! The road is now rather better.

A few of today's traffic issues. Left to right: Post lorry: that will teach Postman Pat not to stroke his cat whilst driving; drive gently on icy bends; town centre in Sj�holt today (very close to where Beth lives); parking in Egersund.

21 January.To celebrate the roads being back in action, here is a film (taken by someone else late last spring, so snow-free except at the highest point) of the journey from the lake at �rsdalen to a farm near Vikes�. Because the journey starts in the (terribly built-up) centre of �rsdalen, the film doesn't come up the side road towards our house (for that you'd have to turn right immediately after crossing the bridge) but it does take you up the hill out of �rsdalen, through the �rsdalen tunnel and then through the next three tunnels towards Vikes�. The film runs at about 8 times actual speed, so don't get car-sick on the bends! Click photo, left, to enjoy the ride.

As you know, there was a fire at Vikes� school over Christmas. There's an annual competition which gives away a sum of money to a "deserving" school, and people can vote online for the cause they think should win. Vikes� school is currently number 6 (see http://klassekassen.no) - and we're looking for more votes! You can vote by putting an email address here. You will receive an automatic confirmation by email with a link that you then click to register your vote.

Thank you to everyone who voted for this. Vikes� School has gone up from 7th place to 4th place during the weekend! It's now (25th Jan) in second place!

23 January. Every time we drive past the lake it looks different. Here's today's click photo, right, for enlargement.

25 January. Spent two days working hard on the bedroom for the downstairs flat, together with two good friends from Tracy's church. From the starting point of bare concrete walls and a set of ceiling rafters, we've now got a very posh sound-insulated hanging plaster ceiling and insulated walls ready to put wooden panelling on (click photo, left, if you're that keen on DIY that you want to see sequence of pictures).

Snap, crackle and pop. Nearly a tenth of Norway's population (100000 households - including Norway's main airport) were without electricity this afternoon after a workman managed to dig through a 66000 volt cable. This was in the south-east of Norway, though, so it didn't affect us.

Sun, by son. This is the time of year that the sun returns to our house. It's been creeping a little further down the garden each day, but now we can enjoy it from the balcony! Photo, right, taken by Thomas Andrew at Stavtj�rn - click for enlargement.

Tomorrow we introduce a new character into the plot!

26 January. The new character in the plot. Katie's birthday present has moved in. He's called Champion because he was born on Boxing Day (click photo, left, to get a bigger champion).

Say "cheese". Cheese making in progress (click cheesey photo, far right, for details).

Whey to go. A by-product of cheese making is gallons of whey, of which only a small portion has been used here as the liquid ingredient for some bread (click photo, near right, for larger loaves) Thinking of visiting this year? Bread and cheese is the menu.

29 January. We're having a family weekend away (Tracy, Tim, Matt and Katie - Andrew chose to stay at home and look after things there). We've not come far - Tonstad, in the neighbouring district of Sirdal, is only 14 miles away from home as the crow flies but over 60 miles of winding lanes to drive because of mountains and rivers in the way (see map, right). Click photo of Matt, left, for a sequence of 6 pictures). Had a good time!