Page 2 of Entwined in Norway

‘And I spoke to my friend who runs the stand-up paddle boarding place in Bergen. He’s going to email you with some options.’

They wanted to build a programme of activities for guests so that there was more for them to do without having to leave the island.

‘I can see an email from him here,’ Ida said, pointing to the screen with her spoon. ‘I’ll have a look at that. Thanks for asking him.’

‘No problem. It’s a great idea to offer extra things like that to the guests.’

Ida thought so too. She’d already spoken to a yoga instructor, a fisherman and a local artist, all of whom were happy to come over to the island a couple of times a week to run activities.

‘What are you up to this morning?’

‘I’m going to pitch in with housekeeping because we have quite a few changeovers today, and then I’ll take over on reception until Magnus gets here.’

‘Great, thank you. I’ll deal with the bookings, but I’ll have to leave early today to pick Emil up from school.’

‘No problem. See you later.’

Emilie headed into the lounge. Between them, they made sure to pop into the lounge and dining room regularly to give guests an opportunity to catch them and ask questions or let them know about any issues without having to come and find someone. It was a small thing that helped elevate the hotel into the luxury market they were aiming for.

Ida spent all morning dealing with reservation queries from people who had tried to book without success. It was a busy time of year, and as yet they didn’t have many rooms to offer. Hopefully, by the same time next year, some of the cabins that sat amongst the woods over the rest of the island would be refurbished and provide more accommodation options. It was going to be impossible to make the cabins as luxurious as the rooms in the hotel because there were limits as to what amenities they’d have, but they would still have access to the rest of the hotel and island, the same as the guests staying in the main hotel.

Before she left to take the boat back to Bergen, Ida packed up her things, leaving room 308 clear just in case. She stripped the bed and remade it, hoping to save the housekeeping team some time, but left the rest of the cleaning to them, knowing that her own standards were probably not high enough.

‘See you tomorrow!’ she called to Emilie on her way out.

The shuttle boat was already at the jetty, having dropped off a few new guests and was now loading guests who were leaving, those who wanted a trip into Bergen, and some of the kitchen staff who had finished their shift. It had been a logistical challenge to come up with shift patterns that tied in with the boat times, but they had just about managed it. This would be the last chance to leave the island until early evening when the boat would return from Bergen again. Mats had made an arrangement with a local company that fitted the shuttle trips in between their sightseeing trips, and it was working well.

The mist had lifted, so Ida sat on deck in the sunshine, the wind blowing her hair as she looked back at the island as it got smaller and smaller until they turned out of Radfjorden and it disappeared from view. She couldn’t stay on the island forever, and she wouldn’t want to. But it had been a pleasant break from real life. Now, back to it.

2

Erik Anderson hadn’t known what to expect from Norway, but it wasn’t this. He walked out of Oslo Central Station into a large square bordered on one side by hotels and restaurants and on the opposite side by the water. The fjord, he supposed. It was nothing like the centre of Toronto, where Union Station dominated the street with its Beaux arts colonnades across the road from the grandeur of the Royal York Hotel in the old part of the city. There was none of that here, at least not in this part of town. It felt altogether smaller, more functional, but nevertheless welcoming.

Resisting the urge to wander, he turned right and followed the directions on his smartwatch to his hotel. He’d opted for the safe choice of a Radisson that was a stone’s throw from the station, and once he turned the corner, he abandoned the directions because he could already see it in front of him. Now that he was here, he wished he’d been more adventurous because he could see more interesting places he could have stayed, but he knew there was adventure yet to come and he didn’t need it to start now. Now he needed to rest. After being folded into an economy airline seat for almost eight hours, he was desperate to be flat, to stretch his legs out on the bed for a while before he did anything else.

Less than ten minutes later he had checked in and was lying on the bed, having not even taken a moment to look at the view. The ache in his leg was overwhelming. He popped a couple of painkillers and lay back, his hands folded on his chest as he took some calming breaths. Eight months on from his accident, his leg only stopped him in his tracks if he did something crazy, and he wouldn’t have thought the transatlantic flight qualified as that. He was naturally active, and had got back to gentle hiking, kayaking, and going to the gym without any problem. If he’d realised this could throw it off, he might have stumped up for some extra legroom. It was a reminder that he might never be entirely back to normal. But then, that was why he was here.

Thankfully, he’d set an alarm for an hour in case he nodded off, which he had. His leg felt better even if his head was a bit fuggy from jet lag. The view from the window was wonderful, perhaps validating his decision to stay here. Being on the twelfth floor meant he could see over the rooftops to the fjord. There were several islands scattered along it, and in the distance, as the fjord curved to the left and out of sight, the hills on either side looked as though they met and were encircling the water entirely. But Erik knew this wasn’t representative of the spectacular scenery that Norway was known for. That was yet to come.

Erik: Hey, I’m here and I’m good.

Mom: Make sure you eat something. Love you x

He smiled. As if he needed reminding to eat. If anything, he’d had to lay off the food over the past few months. Being less active now that his snowboarding days were over meant he needed far fewer calories. Another blow he could have done without. But now he was on vacation, he was going to eat whatever he liked.

Erik: I’m about to go find a burger. Love you too.

A quick search found a burger restaurant close by, near the Opera House. Døgnvill Burger Bjørvika was a trendy, higher-end place than he needed, but after a day of airplane food, he felt like treating himself.

Since it was such a nice evening, and he had taken the precaution of wearing a hoodie, he opted to sit outside under the shade of the young birch trees, bright and leafy in huge rusty metal planters. After he placed his order for the house burger with fries and a beer, he pulled his phone out and checked his emails. He’d been trying to get a hotel reservation for his trip to Bergen. Not for his whole trip to Bergen, he had a hotel in central Bergen for tomorrow night, but after that he wanted to stay in a particular hotel that was on an island in the fjord. There was nowhere else like it, and considering he was interested in visiting the exact area where this island was, it was too perfect an opportunity to miss. But the hotel was fully booked when he’d tried booking online, so he’d sent a begging email hoping he could be the first in line for a room if anyone cancelled their reservation.

And now, as he scrolled down his inbox, he saw an email from their reception desk. A woman called Emilie had answered his prayers. She explained that they were fully booked, but that there was a tiny single room available. She went on to stress the smallness of the third-floor room. Was she trying to put him off? He didn’t care what the room was like, especially since she’d done a deal on the rates he’d seen online. He wrote back straight away, accepting it and confirming that he’d be there the day after tomorrow.

The following morning Erik was up early so he could see a little of Oslo before his train to Bergen at midday. It was a beautiful day, perfect for strolling around the city, taking it in properly and giving himself a more accurate impression of the place. Once he moved away from the area around the hotel, he found the older parts of Oslo with more interesting architecture, and the kind of imposing buildings you expect to see in a capital city, but on a smaller scale. The modern trams still ran on overhead cables that crisscrossed between buildings, their rails curving in pleasing patterns where two or more lines intersected.

Wandering through the streets, he found the water’s edge and walked back alongside it to the station. He picked up a sandwich and a coffee for the start of the journey, which would take around seven hours, but at least he’d be able to stand up and walk around on the train more easily than he’d been able to on the flight. It was easy to find his train. Once he’d stowed his bag, he sat down and scrolled through his phone to find the audio guide he’d purchased alongside his train ticket that would tell him interesting facts about all the places the train would pass through on the world-famous Bergen Line. With his AirPods in, he began munching his pastry and listened to a story about Oslo back in the day, before the railway existed, thinking that life couldn’t get much better than this.

The scenery Erik saw on the way to Bergen was spectacular. Canadian scenery was amazing, but this was on another level. The way the mountains soared from right next to the water, the glass-like stillness of the fjords, and the colour of the water that looked inviting but would still be near freezing cold even in the summer, it was beautiful. All along the journey, he was astounded to see cabins scattered across the landscape, seemingly in the middle of nowhere. Who was living in these places that must be miles from a town or village?