Unveiling the hidden gems of the Hjørundfjord

Havila Pollux came to a stop in the middle of the Hjørundfjord. There was no need to worry, however, as a tender boat soon picked us up and delivered us to Urke's welcoming quay. This tiny village, home to a mere 40 inhabitants, was like stepping into a serene postcard from the past.

Upon our arrival, we were warmly met by Siri Dahl of Sunnmørsalpane Guide Service and escorted to a bus that would be our transport through the wonders of the region. Our journey took us through Norangsdalen, a valley so narrow it could barely accommodate our bus, leading us to Øye and weaving through time as we passed quaint farmhouses. 

Until the 1950s, the villages of Urke and Øye were isolated due to the absence of roads. The sea was the main form of transportation then.  

We learned that its quay house was the social hub of the village. It bustled with stories and the latest gossip from Ålesund, the closest city.

Arriving in Øye, it soon became clear why this village has been enchanting visitors for over a century. Once a popular retreat for mountaineers and travelers alike, Øye has hosted a number of distinguished guests, from royalty to such notables as Coco Chanel, Edvard Grieg and Queen Wilhelmina of the Netherlands. Their adventures through Norangsdalen by horse and carriage mirrored our own, albeit with the modern comforts of our time.

Even Norwegian royalty have visited, according to our guide, Siri, pointing to a dilapidated bridge.  "Fresh from their coronation in Trondheim, King Haakon and Queen Maud decide to visit in 1906. The local villagers, unable to contain their curiosity, gathered right here on this bridge."

An umbrella, perhaps too boldly extended into the path of the royal procession, startled the horse pulling Queen Maud's carriage. In a sudden frenzy, the animal charged toward the river. The air must have been thick with suspense until, in a heroic moment, King Haakon stepped in, calmed the horse, and averted what could have been a disaster.

At the end of the 19th century, Øye boasted four elegant hotels, but today only Hotel Union Øye, built in 1891, remains as a testament to that golden era. Its heyday lasted until the outbreak of the Second World War. 

"After the war, the focus shifted, with Geiranger, our neighboring area, attracting the crowds," said Siri. "Fortunately, tourism is making a modest comeback in the Hjørundfjord, perfectly complemented by the groups from Havila Voyages," she added, appreciating the smaller, more sustainable scale of tourism today.

The revival of Hotel Union Øye in the 1980s, through renovations and expansions, has preserved its historic essence.

Siri told us, "Staying at the hotel is like stepping back in time. Each room is a tribute to an important visitor from the past. For example, the 'Kaiser Wilhelm Suite' offers the unique charm of bathing in a bathtub that once belonged to the Kaiser himself, immersing guests in the rich tapestry of the hotel's storied past."

While mountaineers flocked to the village in search of adventure, the people of the valley had a different relationship with the surrounding peaks. For them, the mountains were not a playground, but a vital part of their daily lives. "Cows grazed there in the summertime, tended and milked by young girls, "some as young as ten, accompanied by a relative," Siri said. Further up the valley, in the heart of the rugged terrain, people built summer cabins.

As we continued our journey, we crossed a small river and soon arrived at a site with a fascinating history. Just beyond the river, there was once a farmstead with shepherd's huts. The dairymaids arrived in June and, as the snow melted in July, they moved further up the mountain. "Their days were filled with milking. And depending on the distance from their homes, they might produce dairy products like cheese or transport fresh milk back to their farms," she added. "But in May 1908, something extraordinary happened: the river disappeared overnight," Siri said. A rock slide had blocked the river's flow, flooding the entire farmstead and turning a once vibrant field into a submerged lake.

We stopped at this lake, known as Lyngstøylvatnet. On calm days, the eerie remains of old farmhouses can be seen beneath the surface. With a depth of about ten meters, the lake has become a magnet for divers who are fascinated by the prospect of exploring its sunken treasures.

We proceeded further up the valley, a scenic corridor flanked by rugged terrain, until we reached the Urasetra farmstead.

Here we ventured along the remnants of an ancient cart road, which led us some 300-400 meters to a tranquil spot beside a small mountain lake, near four quaint farmhouses.

Clustered close together, farmhouses with grass-covered roofs stood as a testament to their enduring heritage, maintained and cherished by their owners. These now serve as tranquil retreats for contemporary day-trippers, their window curtains visible through the panes.

"Have you ever wondered why these houses, though owned by different families, are sitting so close together?" Siri asked.

While one might speculate that it was for warmth, Siri offered a more compelling story. "The real reason is much more dramatic. The winter months in the valley are notorious for avalanches. Isolating the houses would have left them vulnerable to destruction. So the safest spot was chosen, where the huts could stand side by side and protect each other.

The summer pastures at Urasetra were in operation until the 1950s. Siri recounted conversations with women who remembered their time there: "It was hard work, but it also gave a sense of freedom. It was wonderful to be just us girls." On Saturday evenings, however, the boys usually rode up on their bicycles and brought their fiddles and accordions to play music for dancing.