Prologue
This was bound to be a very special, memorable trip: first travel with our one year old, first family holiday with brother-in-law and seeing their six year old for the first time, first trip to the picturesque Scandinavia, and surely the most expensive vacation we ever went on. With kids in tow, we tried to map out a less hectic schedule and minimize moving from one place to another. I had to attend a conference in Copenhagen, and then the plan was to meet up with family in Norway, spend a few days there and head to their home in Stockholm. It was only 12 days but required a good bit of planning, traveling between three countries, minimizing travel time and finding the right family-friendly accommodations.
July 10: Off we go
The flight from Newark to Paris — the first of six Tintin would take on the trip — was thankfully uneventful. We gave him a bottle during take off, and he fell asleep with the hum of the engine. He let us eat our meals together, and we didn’t have to change him on the flight! Did I say we were thankful ? And just like that, his first flight was over. My mom says when I was a few months older than him, I looked up at the sky one day and spotted an airplane: and out came my first spoken sentence — something to the effect of “A car in the sky”. That was my first encounter with an airplane. My first flight came about 25 years later.
And then came the confusing maze otherwise known as Charles de Gaulle airport. Guess how many elevators one ought to take to travel from 2nd floor to -1st (or is that minus one-th) ? Hint: just count the number of floors in between. That’s right. You go down one floor, walk across for a minute, take the next elevator, go down one floor, and repeat. And the elevators were the perfect size to fit the stroller, except that there was hardly any room for the adult who would push it! We have traveled through CDG before and experienced subtle hints of discriminatory behavior from the staff every time, and everyone who has made a connection here with a short layover knows what a stressful experience it can be. But the elevator maze was new to us — as this was the first time we were using them.
Tintin was good to us on the connecting flight to Copenhagen as well, and by now we knew that he probably wasn’t bothered too much with the air pressure change during take-off and landing. At Copenhagen, there was no stroller or carseat waiting for us at the ramp. The final helpful touch from the ground staff at Paris — forgot to tag them for gate delivery. I am not taking another connecting flight through Paris. Ever.
July 11: The hotel at Copenhagen
The jovial cab driver from Afghanistan dropped us off at the Cabinn Metro hotel at around 2 in the afternoon. I have seen some ingenious space management in hotel rooms in Europe. But none beat this “Standard room” for three. Two bunk beds and a trundle, a small round table, two chairs and a corner work desk, all crammed within less than the space you get on a sleeper class coach in Indian Railways. There was even a TV, perched on the wall, meaning I would be able to watch the World Cup final in two days’ time. The bathroom somehow fit a toilet, a sink and a shower stall with shared fixtures, all within maybe six square feet of space. Wish I took a picture with the UWA lens to share.
Within a block of the hotel was a huge Fields shopping mall, where we had lunch at KFC and got our first Scandinavia price shock — about the equivalent of $30 for fast food for two! We took a stroll there in the evening and settled in for the night.
July 12: Conference
My day was spent at the Bella Center where the conference was being held, while Rumpa and Tintin recovered from jet lag at the hotel. As we always seem to do, we had picked out a nearby Indian restaurant called Rasoi, and had dinner there. We went to bed with rain coming down hard, and an ominous forecast for Sunday.
July 13: Copenhagen
This was our only day of sightseeing in Copenhagen. But the weather gods didn’t seem to show any mercy, and as it would turn out, for the rest of our trip. We got a late start, hoping that the skies would clear up some. We had to ask around a bit to figure out which train/track it was we were looking for to get to the city. I would have expected the signs to be way more user-friendly than it was. During the course of the entire trip, this was a recurrent experience for us. This was one thing the Americans do relatively well, putting up signs at the right places and making it easy for the traveler. Well, at least it had to be baby-friendly, right ? After all, this was one of those countries where you could get a year of paid leave to have a baby. It was indeed, for the most part. There was a separate compartment in the train for people with luggage and baby strollers. Interestingly, the compartment floor, while lower than the regular ones, was still high enough relative to the platform that we had to lift the stroller to take it inside. Isn’t quite baby-friendly, is it ? Also, a lot of the street corners and sidewalks were pretty bumpy, and Tintin was getting a pretty rough ride. Then it suddenly dawned on us: the European strollers had huge — and I mean huge — wheels. Those bumps didn’t matter. And the height difference in the train ? Easy to negotiate with those monsters. It was a small miracle that our “LiteRider” stroller survived the trip.
We wanted to do a canal tour, which would give us an overview of the city, and booked our tickets at the Visitors Center near the train station and boarded the bus to the ferry dock. By the time we got off the bus, it was raining hard enough that we had to get the umbrella and poncho out. And then the lady at the information booth told us that the next boat would not be a covered one. If we wanted to ride in one of those, we could walk about 10 minutes to another ferry stop. Bummer! It was a miserable walk in rain, but we arrived a minute before the scheduled departure, only to see the covered boat sail away! The next one, we were told, would not leave for another hour. Our day in Copenhagen was quickly turning into a complete disaster.
The sides of the canal were dotted with bars, with almost no one sitting inside, preferring to brave the elements and sip beer under the gloomy sky. We met a local couple with a small kid who nonchalantly informed us that dealing with the unpredictable and often nasty weather was the norm here. They too wanted to travel in the covered boat, but eventually decided to take the next one.
Tintin needed to be changed, and was somewhat wet. We had to go inside. Somewhere. Anywhere. We ventured into an Irish Pub, and gathered ourselves. We were the only people inside, unsurprisingly. I had a bottle of Carlsberg, a local beer. Rumpa had a cup of coffee. The rain had subsided by the time we were back at the ferry stop. The tour itself was unremarkable, as these often are, but at least we got to see the major landmarks of the city. I got the camera out toward the end, walking to the front of the boat to take some shots around the canal.
We got back to Copenhagen Central. It was still cloudy, but didn’t look like it would rain anytime soon. We had a few hours to perhaps visit one more spot, and then had to head back to the hotel in time for the World Cup final. Rumpa suggested that we take the bus to Christiania. We had known about this neighborhood from Rick Steve’s videos. We were glad that we did, as this short trip turned out to be the highlight of our day in Copenhagen. The quirky signs and murals, the charming houses, and the generally eclectic surroundings were refreshing. Walking along the narrow alleys, we eventually reached the concert area. A band was playing, and the entire audience appeared to be either gulping down alcohol, or billowing thick smoke, or both. We were the only visitors with a kid, and I was expecting curious looks. We didn’t get many, as people seemed too engaged in whatever they were doing, or smoking, to care. We considered having dinner there, but ultimately decided against it. The lure of Kokken Karry (Kokken = chef, Karry = curry) at the station combined with the air quality in Christiania helped make our decision. Take out Indian food in hand, we returned to the hotel. We had a morning flight to catch, lot of packing to do, and a World Cup final to watch. I was ready to forget the disappointment I felt 24 years ago when Diego Maradona cried after losing in the final. It was not to be. Germany deserved to win this tournament.
July 14: Bergen and Gudvangen, Norway
There is one area where Scandinavia failed to live up to its baby-friendly reputation. They didn’t let us gate-check the stroller and carseat on our flight out of Copenhagen (and later in Bergen and Stockholm as well). We had to drop them off at the odd-sized baggage counter and carry Tintin through security with all the luggage. Not the most comfortable, but the staff were friendly, unlike in Paris. A sign said that CPH airport had been voted to have the easiest security checkpoint. Duh.
We arrived in Bergen earlier than scheduled, and the sun was shining. The prospect of squeezing in a funicular ride to the top of Mount Floyen before we had to come back to the airport to pick up Dipanjan and family looked bright. Until disaster struck. There was no sign of the carseat at the luggage belt. It hadn’t arrived. The lady at the service counter said if we rented a carseat from the car rental company, SAS would pay for it. Luckily they had one available. After another experience of poor signage to figure out where the parking shuttle would arrive, we reached the SmartPark lot where our rental car was supposed to be delivered. There was this friendly guy waiting with a carseat and the rental contract paper. The car had smaller cargo hold than we had expected and packed for. This could be tough. But that was a minor problem compared to what was about to follow.
I had been simultaneously excited and nervous about the prospect of driving a manual transmission minivan in the mountain roads of Norway. I hadn’t driven a stick in several years. One good thing was that the car was old, a 2009 model with a 100K km on it, so the clutch would probably be more forgiving! Yes, it was akin to rent-a-wreck, and no big name rental chains had a minivan available for our dates. It did stall once as I was getting out of the lot, but within a few minutes the transmission felt fine. I had meticulously mapped out the walking routes within the city of Bergen and the location of the garage where we planned to park, but didn’t have exact directions from the airport to the city, only remembering that we had to take highway 580 towards Bergen. That would be enough, right ? Wrong. Not only wasn’t there any sign for the city at the first roundabout, within a minute of taking the wrong turn we were in a narrow rural road which had no (useful) signs either. I decided to make a U-turn using a patch of grassy driveway to what appeared to be a farmhouse. I made a left and put the car in reverse. Or so I thought. It lurched forward and almost hit the fence ahead. The damn car wouldn’t reverse! A few tense moments, a phone call to the rental company and an incredulous conversation later — I learned that certain manual transmissions need the stick to be pushed down (or pulled up) before putting the car in reverse. The signs on the stick — again — never had any indication to that effect. Of course, if I knew that such a thing existed, I would have tried it. But I didn’t, and I know this: a car without some visible clue about this required maneuver would not be sold on the American market.
All of the drama cut into the precious few hours we had in Bergen. Thankfully it was easy to find the parking garage and get to the fish market area. We didn’t venture further into the harbor where the big cruise ships dock, instead spending an hour or so in the main market area, were lured into eating exorbitantly priced fake Indian fish curry (hopefully it was at least cooked with fresh Norwegian fish), and managed to take a few pictures. We might have had time to ride the funicular, but it would have been too hectic. Instead we took a relaxing walk back to the garage and abandoned the plan for doing groceries before we went to the airport because of the tight cargo space. We picked up Dipto, Seema and Dipanjan at around four, somehow managed to fit all the luggage without having to carry some on our lap, and headed to the fjords. By the time we reached Gudvangen camping after picking up groceries, the weather had worsened. We settled into our two-bedroom cabin, which was awesome, as were the surroundings, with steep mountains on both sides and several narrow waterfalls gushing down their face. Seema had brought fried Mrigel fish from Stockholm, and here we were, in a remote corner of fjord Norway, having a sumptuous fish curry meal with rice. It couldn’t have been better.
July 15: Fjord cruise
Our cat and mouse game with the weather gods continued in Norway. The forecast was ever-changing, and it appeared that there was a short window of perhaps partly sunny weather in the late morning. We decided to book the 11:30 cruise to Flam. This is the most famous segment of the popular Norway in a Nutshell route that every tourist to the Norwegian fjords is obligated to include in their itinerary. The first part of the 2-hour long cruise crosses the Naeroyfjord, the narrow arm of the mighty Sognefjord, and is listed as a UNESCO World heritage site. It was beautiful, no doubt, and unique — but not breathtaking, at least to me. Obviously the perspective you get sailing through the fjord is different, but as with any other place with pristine natural beauty, one ought to spend more time, and perhaps take a hike or two along the fjord, to get a feel for the place. We did catch a different view of the fjord when we did the short drive to Bakka, a little settlement along Naeroyfjord, and that was nice.
We didn’t go to the center of Flam, figuring it would be very busy with more than 4000 cruise passengers scheduled to descend on the little village on that day, and drove towards Aurland, where we planned to get lunch. We had tentatively planned to perhaps go to the Stegastein viewpoint for a bird’s eye view of the fjord, and take the Flam railway in the evening. The weather forecast called for heavy rains, though, and we decided against the steep climb to Stegastein. We were only half an hour’s drive from the campground anyway, so we decided to go back, have lunch with bread and ready-to-eat packaged Indian food, again, courtesy of Seema. We had planned to come back for the railway later. That never happened. Instead, we stayed at the cabin, and had a different preparation of fish on this night for dinner.
July 16: The glacier
This would be the longest travel day of the trip, with the one-way drive to Nigardsbreen glacier being close to 3 hours, not counting stops, and a ferry ride. The fjords, the glaciers, the waterfalls, and the high rock formations: these are some of the major attractions in Fjord Norway as far as scenery is concerned. So we had to visit at least one glacier, and this was the closest. The drive through the Sognefjord area was very pretty, and the 30-odd km spur road for accessing the glacier was seriously spectacular. To me, it was already worth the long drive before we had a peek at the glacier itself. And when it came, it was gorgeous. A short boat ride took us to the trailhead to hike to the mouth of the ice sheet, which had this pristine blue tint along with dirty edges, creating an odd juxtaposition. The surrounding rocky landscape provided a stark color contrast. The up-and-down rocky trail was littered with loose pebbles, which posed a slipping hazard. With Tintin in a baby carrier on my back, we decided to not go all the way to the glacier mouth. I was glad that I was carrying my telephoto lens, so that I could at least capture some close up shots.
By the time we left Nigardsbreen, it was too late to do a side trip on the Sognefjellet, one of the most famous mountain passes in Norway. We decided to instead drive the other scenic route, Aurlandsfjellet, also a mountain pass, also known as the “snow road”. We took our time to drive the steep climb up the mountains, and finally reached Stegastein. The viewing platform juts over the mountain top and curls inward as the only thing separating you from the depths of the fjord landscape below is a glass wall. We took in the panoramic views with the sun struggling to show us its face for fleeting seconds. This would be our final view of Sognefjord, before we headed back to the cabin. Tonight’s menu would be khichuri, which, given the weather, was a pretty solid choice!
July 17: The waterfalls and Hardangerfjord
This was our last day in Fjord Norway. We hadn’t seen the sun rise or set, but the scenery was wonderful, and we were literally in the middle of it at Gudvangen camping. It was time to leave our lovely cabin, where we spent three memorable nights with family, ate good food and generally had a great time.
Our first stop was the famous Stalheim hotel, where people stay for the gorgeous view of the Naeroy valley down below. It turned out that visitor parking was prohibited, so the only way to actually experience the view was to drive the Stalheimskiva, the steepest road in Northern Europe.
It took 13 hairpin bends to cover the 1.5 km, with view of the picturesque valley, and two beautiful waterfalls along the way. We continued towards Voss, and stopped at Tvindefossen, another famous waterfall. Not all waterfalls could wow you, but fjord Norway really has so many of them that do. Even the ones that were not mentioned in any guidebook seemed to be pretty good. This was no exception, with water cascading along several steps. And it was right along the highway, so we didn’t have to hike to get to it. We stopped at Ulvik for lunch. Rain had reared its ugly head once again. We still decided to take the detour to Voringfossen, perhaps the most famous waterfall in Norway. It’s a twin falls converging in the narrow valley from two mountain sides. It was cloudy when we got there, but partially cleared up, giving it that rare misty yet sunny look, if only for a few seconds. A rainbow appeared as well at the bottom of the falls. We started heading to our final destination, Oddland Camping, a campground by the side of Hardangerfjord, wider than Sognefjord, but pretty nonetheless. Laila, the owner, welcomed us, and as soon as we saw the cabins, and the backyard views, we regretted not having planned to stay here longer! After a meal of chicken curry, we went to sleep early, as we had to drive to Bergen in the morning to catch a flight. I made my first attempt at capturing a time lapse of the sunrise, shooting through the cabin window onto the fjord waters. Such things require way
more time and practice and a relaxed itinerary. But at least I tried.
July 18: To Stockholm
Friday was a travel day. Thankfully there was no more drama at Bergen this time around, although I encountered the first person in Scandinavia who didn’t speak any English. This old chap at the parking lot had no clue about return of rental car, or whatever I was saying for that matter. Out of thin air, two young guys supposedly from the car rental company appeared, and all was well. We reached the airport in time and boarded the flight to Stockholm. As we got on the highway out of the airport, the landscape looked familiar, just like driving along a boring stretch of New Jersey Turnpike. The speed felt familiar, too, especially after 4 days of Norwegian roads where the speed limit never got above 70 km. To add to the effect, the Pakistani cabby appeared to be oblivious to any speed limits at all. After a little bit of rest and a lunch of doi machh, we went to a local Indian grocery store, which felt exactly the same as back in the US. Why would it not, when we shopped for Malai chomchom, Guava, Potol, Indian gourd, and of course, Mrigel fish ? We made plans to visit Uppsala on Saturday and Stockholm on Sunday. The rest would be family time.
July 19: Uppsala
We drove to Uppsala in Dipanjan’s car, stopping at the lakeside town of Sigtuna on the way. We took a stroll along the way, had ice cream and headed for the famous university town.
It’s a modern, yet very pretty charming little place. We took a walk through the city streets and had lunch at one of the many ubiquitous kebab places, where the portions would rival big American diners. The highlight was definitely the cathedral, designed to be viewable from almost every angle in the city.
The insides were gorgeous, and reminded me of Notre Dame. We lit candles, and Dipto said prayers for himself, and for Tintin. We couldn’t find parking to get to see the other famous attraction, the palace, up close. After a few minutes, we gave up and headed to Gamla Uppsala, the old town where the Swedish royalty were buried. It’s a place that has historical significance, but to us, the lack of anything visually pleasing was a downer. We got back home in time for a dinner invitation at a neighbor’s.
July 20: Stockholm
Stockholm, at least what we were able to see of it in the short time we had, felt a nice amalgamation of modern looks, a city steeped in history, and a touch of old charm. Gamlastan, the neighborhood of the royal palace, was a sprawling complex teeming with people taking advantage of gorgeous weather on a summer Sunday. In these parts of the world, one doesn’t get a lot of those! We took a boat ride through the canal that touched upon the city’s landmarks. For me, the eco park was the most interesting: wish we had time for a picnic there. The kids behaved well throughout the day, and after a bite of ice cream at a nearby city park, we headed back to the car.
July 21: Rest day
This was the day for us to take it easy. There was nothing on the agenda in particular, only a little shopping and lunch at the nearby Kista shopping center. One thing we noted was the great variety of different cuisines in the mall’s food court. Here in the US, usually the choice is limited to pizza, Chinese, Mexican and a bunch of burger joints. This place had Farsi, Lebanese, Thai, Greek, Italian, Indian, among many others. We came home, did the final packing, and went to bed for precious few hours of sleep as we had a 6:30 flight to catch.
July 22: Back home
There was one last bit of adventure awaiting us on the final day of our trip. Our original itinerary was via Paris, and thankfully got switched to Amsterdam instead a couple of weeks before travel. Seema’s sister Babli lived in Amsterdam and she and Tirtha had recently welcomed their first child, Jojo. Our layover time in Amsterdam wasn’t enough to pay them a quick visit. When we landed at AMS, the monitors showed that our Delta flight was delayed by two hours! Luckily they stay close to the airport. We were able to manage a two hour visit to see Jojo and meet Babli’s parents too. The bonus, of course, was another Bengali meal in unlikely circumstances. On the long return flight, Tintin was more active, at one point getting far too excited forcing me to constantly walk around the airplane with him. Eventually, the Boba carrier came to the rescue, as it did on many occassions on the trip. Boom was waiting at the airport to pick us up. We got home at 10 pm, which helped because it was already bedtime and thankfully we all had a good night’s sleep and didn’t have to deal with jetlag at all.
Epilogue
There was a lot of anticipation and excitement for this trip, yet quite a bit of apprehension as well, this being our first trip with a baby. In the end, it all worked out. We had a great time with family, and was able to at least sample beautiful Scandinavia. If there was a gripe, it would be about the weather, which was cloudy and rainy almost the entire time. As someone said on tripadvisor: expect bad weather and be prepared for it — if you see the sun, consider it a bonus!