Dɛn dɔn pablish am: 11.08.2022
12:00 PM
I woke up to the sound of my alarm clock at 6:30 AM. I decided not to go back to sleep and packed my things. With my luggage in tow, I made my way to the cozy hotel lobby, where the couple consisting of an old man and a granddaughter was already waiting for me. I would later find out that their names were Tessa and Manfred. Manfred had invited me to breakfast the previous evening, but I politely declined as I wanted to explore Lillehammer in the morning and I'm not a big fan of hotel breakfasts. So, I left my backpack in the luggage room and set off.
The man at the reception directed me towards the river in Lillehammer. I trudged through small residential areas and industrial districts before coming across a meadow that led to the river. It should be noted that calling it a "river" is a bit of an understatement. It stretched for hundreds of meters before the tree-covered hills appeared on the other side. I walked across the meadows, passing numerous campers and flocks of geese, enjoying the freedom of walking without a backpack. I almost galloped along the paths until I reached a rocky beach, where I picked up a few flat stones and skimmed them across the calm water.
A seagull quickly took interest in my activities and started swooping towards me, mimicking hunting cries, only to turn back at the last moment. In between, it made sounds that resembled human laughter. Amused by the seagull's maneuvers, I imitated it, which seemed to confirm its mission. After I had entertained myself enough with the bird, I continued my walk. I quickly reached the long pedestrian bridge that led to the other side. I walked along the railing in slow steps, taking in the sleepy landscape. The sun reflected like a sea of crystals in the water below me. The bridge was adorned with flower pots, and occasionally, a cyclist passed by, to whom I greeted by tipping my hat.
When I reached the other side, I discovered a small supermarket and decided to buy a small breakfast there. I left the store with a pack of carrots and a blood-red plum, which I tucked between my arms and walked back to the bridge. On the riverbank stood houses in the classic Scandinavian style, as I knew from Astrid Lindgren's books. I made my way to the bench in the middle of the bridge to eat in peace.
As I almost devoured my food, a young backpacker came towards me heading for the train station. I offered him a carrot and we started talking. He had also missed the last train to Trondheim and had camped in the hills on the other side. He was from the French-speaking part of Switzerland but could also speak some German. We had a cozy conversation in a mix of German and English about our travels, while walking towards the train station. Before the gate, I said goodbye for now and went to pick up my luggage at the hostel.
We all waited at the train station for the train. It was there that I finally inquired about the names of my fellow travelers and gave them my number in case they needed any help in the future. We boarded the train together, where I now sit and write, distracted by the breathtaking scenery outside the window, which changes between rocky, wild rivers, birch forests, and bare mountain peaks. Pine forests give way to glaciers that adorn the mountain peaks like cream on a cake. Lakes decorate the landscape with their black water and irregular shores, where geese rest. And here and there, you can see a small cabin, mostly stoically blending into the landscape. Some even have a green roof, so they can only be recognized by their facade.