Flam; The Ins and Outs...

For those of you who are considering Flam, Norway as a destination I want to be sure you understand what the town of Flam really is. One does not come to Flam for the town itself. One comes to see the surrounding valleys and to use it as a jumping-off point for other activities along the Fjords. Old Flam, the original village, lies at the south end of the Flam Valley. It consists of an old church and a few 

homes, farms, or local mining businesses. The new Flam isn't really in my opinion a town. It's more like a station. It was built purely for the tourist industry. Technically it is where all trains, ferries, and roads intersect. It doesn't even have streets per se, except little feeder roads to the few houses built up

in the hills. It is, in essence, a parking lot for buses and cars, a small (very small) center for shops, knick-knacks, and a few cafes. It has the harbor, the train station, and a fairly sizable hotel. Across the main local road is the Flam campsite/hostel/cabins. I'll go into this at some point but I will say I love it here. It has fantastic views, and accommodations for all budgets and is only a three-minute walk to Flam station. Now, as I said in the beginning; one doesn't come to Flam for Flam itself. It's a great place for a maiden voyage into the Fjord lands of Norway. Easily accessible by train from
Bergen or Oslo, it's got a few good walks along the the foot/bike

path and one up to a magnificent waterfall. You can catch a ride on a ferry out onto the Fjords, take a power boat ride, kayak, or just take a walk. One thing you must understand about Flam; you will be sharing the walk with either the road that runs adjacent to it or the railway. One section had a good deal of traffic ( walk early in the morning. The sun rises at 4am take advantage of that) as it's the main road in and out. The other

is a local-only road that runs with the rail line. While walking that section I maybe saw 20 cars in 6 hours. The train more frequently. But the train is so cool. Be sure to stop and wave at the tourists on board! They get really excited when you do. They assume that you're a local. Now don't let the hoards of people getting off the cruise ship and inundating the town get to you. Very few of them make their way out to the

old farmstead, the waterfall, or the old town center. In all, I saw maybe 20 people all told on all of my walks outside of town. Also, if you want to get some groceries or go in and look around the station, do it early in the morning or after the tourists have gotten back on board around 4pm. Now having said all that, don't misunderstand how amazing Flam is. I am sitting up on the hillside in camp as I write this watching the buses go to and fro, I can see the cruise ship in the harbor, and I know the train will soon be pulling into town because I can hear the train signal and the train horn sounding off in the distance. There's a slight din of vehicles passing up above me as well. But this camp

site is like a little Oasis. The views are spectacular and the vibe is calm and serene. The sounds of the station are close but distant enough to not be bothersome. To be honest, I much prefer it to say hiking in Italy, or in Athens while being surrounded by hoards of people even in the off-season. Here, the off-season is pretty quiet compared to the off

season in the aforementioned places. I recently discovered that Flam is just the tip of a gigantic area known as the Sognefjord.  It's gonna take some planning, but I'll certainly be back to delve deeper into this area. I've already begun another grand adventure here in my mind. So, in closing; if you have limited time and resources visit Flam. If you've got more time and more money also add a journey out into the national parks and glaciers that lie along Norway's spectacular Fjord lands. Now go do some more research, grab your planner, and take yourself on a once-in-a-lifetime adventure.

The Italian Job

You would think that hiking up Mt. Vesuvius would be the great story I had to tell from yesterday. In actuality, it was the drive down off the volcano that got all the credit. 

One, there were so many people making the trek to the top it didn't really feel adventurous. Although it was super cool. The trip down off the mountain is the story that needs telling and I'm happy to say I'm still here to tell it.
The bus driver now, was a character. I had, with many other tourists, been dropped off earlier in the day by the morning shift driver so we could all hike to the rim of the mighty Mt Vesuvius. Upon our return, a new driver, the afternoon shift driver I'll assume, came rolling up the hill in a cloud of dust, hand on the horn, wherein he unceremoniously threw open the doors and came to a skidding halt. This mind you while chanting a chorus of (with a thick Italian accent) "Pompeii, Pompeii, Pompeii!" Pronounced: Palm-Pay-UHH! Palm-Pay-UHH! Palm-Pay-UHH! Those of us waiting for a ride back to town scurried over, jumped on the bus, and took our obligatory places. We didn't get the last ass in the seat before he closed the door and began this three-point turn in this tiny space with all these tourists milling about who were paying absolutely no attention to the fact they were about to come face to face with the Dirty Harry of Italian bus drivers. He backed up, pulled forward, and seemingly sideways; all the while yelling, "Oh! Hey! Oh! Ay!" And making what I gathered was the sound an unaware tourist makes when squished by a bus filled with other tourists. This had the back of the bus smiling and giggling with laughter, for now. After some expert maneuvering, we left them all behind in a cloud of ash, most of them pressed against a wooden railing with a look of terror on their suntanned faces. Here's where it gets good. This guy didn't give two shits about anything, literally. As we weaved our way down the mountainside we took out some guy's side mirror and missed other cars and buses by mere inches as the bus tossed us to and fro and side to side. At one point there was an 

 audible gasp from the entire bus as we damn near came up on two wheels around one of the 100 or so bends in the road which switchbacked down the mountain. The giggling disappeared to be replaced with strong grips on the seat in front of us and a few Hail Marys and Our Fathers whispered under our collective breaths.

 We did finally make it down into the city where he stopped on occasion to talk to other old Italian guys. There was a lot of hand waving and Ohs and ahs! It looked as if they were all angry with one another, but he always pulled away smiling. I'm guessing it is just a thing in Italy. Genghis Khan finally dropped us at the station near the square wherein we all filed off the bus thankful to be alive and, whether we were religious or not, crossing ourselves as we passed in front of a cathedral that I'm sure God put there intentionally to gather any lost sheep that made it off the bus in one piece. End scene.