Hvor fossene betyr hjemme

We started today in Flåm after a night at the cozy Fretheim Hotel, enjoying yet another no-holds-barred breakfast spread (this time including a wonderful surprise of Tim Wendelboe’s Caballero Geisha on offering!). I wanted to slap myself just to make sure I wasn’t dreaming as I stepped out onto our back porch and took in the sun-kissed hillsides dotted with waterfalls around me. Little did I realize that the scenery still hadn’t reached its zenith for this trip.

The upside to the slightly touristy nature of Flåm–it does bookend one of the world’s most lauded train routes, after all–is that it allowed me to take care of some needed souvenir shopping for friends and family back home. And while I did manage to resist buying several of Norway’s finest sweaters for myself, I did cave on some pieces that will hold special value to me when I am back in the U.S. (a decision I do not regret).

After a long day of anticipation, the time finally came to board the ferry to Leikanger, where we would be picked up by one of our relatives to cover the final few miles to Sogndal.

This journey aboard the ferry is where my command of English fully fails me; I have simply run out of ways to describe the superlative majesty of Norway’s fjords. It is an impossible task to adequately recount the feeling of the wind in your hair as you traverse this landscape. It was a stark reminder of nature’s awesome power and how small we truly are in the grand scope of our planet and its most breathtaking features.

On arrival in Leikanger, we were greeted by Geir, the first of many fellow Fosses to come on this visit to my family’s ancestral home in Sogndal. He took us to his jaw-droppingly beautiful home overlooking the entire city, with the mountains and Sognefjorden setting a stunning backdrop. We were joined by Geir’s wife, Marit; his son, Karl-Andre and his fiancée, Cathrine; and newly-arrived grandson, Benjamin. We were immediately treated to the famous Norwegian hospitality, for which I am immensely grateful. I suppose being made to feel like family is easier to achieve when you actually are family, even when meeting for the first time.

Slightly before we arrived at Geir’s house, he quickly stopped next to the waterfall that runs through Sogndal to offer me my first glimpse at the real, living, breathing origin of my name, bringing us full circle to the title of this blog: where the waterfalls mean home / hvor fossene betyr hjemme. I am sure when you live in Sogndal that you become accustomed to the familiar sight of the waterfall running through town, its impact muted by decades of repeated sightings. But, at the risk of sounding histrionic, it really felt to me like my soul found a puzzle piece today. Like a part of my heart had come home and can now carry this with me forever. It is a gift I will treasure always.