The Vikings and More: Our Visit to Bygdoy

Yesterday, we decided to travel to Bygdoy, the island to the south of Oslo that houses many of the best-known museums. (The "o" in Bygdoy should have a slash through it. The name of the island rhymes, approximately, with Big Boy.)

The trip required us to walk to the harbor (Oslo Fjord). Luck was with us. It turned out to be a lovely day (about 23 degrees C or mid-70s F) and the walk was not long. We walked past the palace and then turned right at the National Theater and then headed down a few blocks, passing the Nobel Institute on the right and the City Hall on the left. (Below is a view of the Nobel Institute; the photo was taken from the wharf.)

Then, all we had to do was wait for the ferry, which is run by Ruter, the municipal transit company. You can see the ferry arriving (to the left of Bram).

 

There was a bit of a scuffle as the boat docked. An overeager, ill-behaved child of about 8 years old pushed onto the boat before the small aluminum gangplank was fully lowered, despite cries from the woman lowering the plank of "nei, nei." The girl dashed into the cabin where the captain was. A few minutes later, she emerged, apparently having been ejected from the boat, along with her parents who had scurried on after her. I'm not sure what surprised me more: that the family was actually booted, or that it all happened without any voices being raised and no commentary from any onlookers.

We then walked aboard, swiped our bus cards across the card reader, and took seats in the stern for a good view and fresh air. Here's Bram's photo looking back at Oslo. This area of the city, Aker Brygge, was a skid row. It was recently redeveloped and is lined with hi-rise condos and has a very expensive shopping area not unlike the Inner Harbor in Baltimore.

The ferry makes two stops on Bygdoy. This is when I made my first byg mistake of the day--failing to get off at the correct stop. (Read to the end of this post for the other.) I told the captain and he said "not a problem; just walk." So we did. There were no signs to direct us so we asked a couple of different people along the way, each of whom told us "only 5 minutes more and you'll be there."

 Thirty minutes later, we arrived at the Viking Ship museum. The effort was worthwhile. The museum houses three ships. We will focus here on two, the Oseberg ship and the Gokstad ship, each named for the farm on which it was discovered a bit more than 100 years ago.

Here are some photos of the Oseberg ship.

And here are closeups of the carving on the stern (or was it the bow? no matter, it is on both ends). The design is known as "gripping beast." Also a close-up of the serpent at the prow. Serpent imagery seems ubiquitous in Norway.

Now for some history.

The Oseberg ship was probably built in the early 800s A.D. and used for traveling along the coast. (The sides are not particularly high and it is highly decorated, so not intended for tough sea voyages.) In 1834 A.D., it became a tomb for a VERY IMPORTANT lady and her companion or servant, as two skeletons were discovered. Vikings apparently believed in an afterlife and thought you needed to arrive well equipped. So these two gals came with four sleighs, one wagon, 14 horses, 4 dogs, 1 ox, 5 beds (for visitors?) and probably scads of jewelry and finery that was stolen some years later.

Forensic studies suggest that one of the women was around 80 years old and suffering painfully from cancer and a syndrome that crippled her. Many believe that she was Queen Ase (this "a" should have a small circle above it), the mother of Halfdan the Black and the grandmother of Harald Fairhair. Very important indeed! The other woman was much younger and possibly from Iran. Some think she was a servant. But archeologists can tell that she cleaned her teeth with a silver toothpick and that she had a diet heavy in meat. So she may have been a companion or relative of the queen.

Here are photos of the Gokstad ship:

This ship is 24 meters long (compared to 22 meters for the other ship) and was built for traveling the high seas. It could hold up to 70 Vikings (with 32 of them doing the rowing). This boat dates from around 890 A.D. and was the tomb for a Viking chieftan. 

Some believe that the skeleton found within belonged to Halfdan the Black's half brother, Olaf-Geirstad-Alf, who was the son of Gudrod the Hunter. He was about 40 years old when he died and was not nearly as esteemed as Queen Ase, if the contents of the ship are any guide. (He was buried with a board game, among other things.) 

According to ancient lore, "At length by cruel gout oppressed/The good king Olaf sank to rest." But the script at the museum said that he was felled in battle. Apparently, when fighting, the Vikings aimed for the legs and this Viking had been struck several times in the knee and thigh; he died of his wounds. Again, according to ancient lore (and not the museum), when he died, he became an elf.

This is the ship that has inspired Viking fanatics and proud Norwegian Americans to create faithful replicas (one of them sits at the Hjemkost Center in Moorhead, MN) and to set sail in them (proving that the Vikings COULD HAVE settled in North America--and more precisely, Alexandria, MN).

Having learned as much about the Viking ships as we could absorb, we headed for the gift shop, where the kids mulled over possible souvenir purchases for many minutes, finally choosing key rings. As Doug was waiting in line to make the purchase, he heard someone ask the clerk where the helmets with horns were. The clerk patiently explained that Vikings did not wear helmets.

After a bite to eat on the patio outside the museum, we headed for the Folk Museum, a Norwegian version of Williamsburg, VA (sort of). The museum is a vast collection of buildings (farm houses, barns, sheds) from the 17th and 18th centuries that were transplanted to the museum area and situated to create little villages populated by historical re-enactors and farm animals. 

Almost all of the buildings had sod roofs. Apparently, this was quite common up to the 19th century in rural areas. A roof like this requires considerable labor but costs nothing. From 6 to 16 layers of birch bark are laid, shingle-style, on top of the roof boards. Then two layers of 3-inch sod are placed on top. The first layer is placed top side down, the second layer, top side up. This construction keeps moisture from leaking through to the living area and also provides sufficient soil and moisture-preservation that the roof can make it through a drought. It seems to be a marvelous insulator. The interior of the homes, which were small, was nice and cool.

The fiddler who provided the music for the folkdancing. When Doug asked him if his violin was a replica of an antique, he pointedly explained to Doug that a replica would be made in the exact way that the original had been made and thus that his violin was most certainly NOT a replica. We were impressed with this guy's command of English!

This re-enactor was more polite. The photo was taken inside the home of a wealthy farmer @ 1750. 

From here, we went to watch a demonstration of lefse-making. This was holiday lefse, which is almost as thick as a slice of bread and made with wheat flour and a bit of sugar. We each tried a piece hot off the griddle and spread thickly with butter. "Yummy," according to Bram.

From here, we moved on to the traditional crafts. I hesitated over whether to purchase a "rigid heddle" for 360K and finally decided against it. I don't haven't enough time to weave a scarf and even less time to weave one as they did in the Middle Ages.

We then moved on to the building that shows home furnishing as it changed through the last 150 years.  When we got to the 1965 home, I turned to the kids and said "this was my home." I should have said "this was my mother's dream home." Danish modern furniture in every room. Bram's verdict: "Cool!"

To complete the time-travel back to the 1960s, the kids took a spin on the "merry-go-round" outside, the kind that can no longer be found on kids' playgrounds (presumably because someone realized that they can be very dangerous) but were a common amusement back in the day. A couple of tow-headed kids joined in and I spun and spun the thing to make it go as fast as possible.You can see Bram here struggling to stay on. Afterwards, Addie said it was making her dizzy and sick to her stomach. That's my childhood memory as well. 

We then stopped to look at the farm animals. Petting is allowed but there is a posted warning not to accidentally touch the electrical wire running around the pen. I began scratching the rump of one little pig, the way I remembered Wilbur from Charlotte's Web liking to be scratched. All of a sudden, the pig let out a loud squeal and dashed away from me. At that same moment, I felt a sharp buzz zip through my body. A split second later, I realized that my arm had touched the wire, and the shock had  run right through my arm  to that poor little pig. It stared at me, aghast, from across the pen, which hurt me more than the burn on my arm.

Anxious to leave now, we walked away. Suddenly, the horse (seen in an earlier photo) came galloping straight at me. He veered away at the last minute to avoid running into us. Message received! The animals wanted me out of there. We headed for the exit, pronto.

On the walk back to the ferry landing, we marveled at the homes of those who actually live on Bygdoy.  These are the most palatial homes we've seen since we arrived here. Here's a photo of how the other half lives in Norway.