Storulfossen part 2
It was the next morning and as I got up I gingerly examined my knee. The swelling had gone down, so perhaps it was a one-off and today there would be no issues. Ten minutes, and some light walking around inside the cabin said otherwise. My knee ballooned up again. There was no way I’d be walking the ten kilometers round trip to the waterfall we had planned to visit in the morning. “Go on without me” I told Dom and in true Clarkson, Hammond and May spirit he left me behind :D It wasn’t all bad as I got to finish that thriller book I had bought with me, hobbled around just outside the cabin trying to take the odd photo and then preparing the evening’s dinner (roasted potato wedges, pork tenderloin, fried apples and a chanterelle and port wine sauce if you were wondering).
After a couple of hours Dom had come back from his solo hike. “Rubbish waterfall” he declared again. I wasn’t sure if he was trying to be nice to me or if it was some code word for “excellent”. Turned out to be the latter. Yet another place to add to my ever increasing “places-I-must-visit-when-back-here-again” list. I wasn’t too sure if I could make the afternoon short hike to Storulfossen again even with the help of walking sticks. That was when Dom came up with the genius idea of driving down to the town of Otta and seeing if I could buy a knee support today and not tomorrow when we planned on an outing further afield. Why didn’t I think of that? And why was Dom suddenly turning into a copy of my wife and coming up with brilliant solutions to my problems? We had a quick bite to eat and packed our camera bags and headed down the short path to the car.
Now some of you might know I have quite a fear of heights. In fact, the first time I met Dom in Cornwall he led me over a narrow path with long, almost vertical drops to the death either side that he affectionately refers to as the “ledge of doom”. It still sends my heart racing away as my knees quiver when thinking about it even now. So I was, to say it mildly, a little nervous to be sitting in the passenger seat of my car as Dom drove. It wasn’t his driving that made me nervous rather the very, very long drop a couple of meters to my right. Only a few rows of trees were between me and, at places, a 500 meter drop down into the valley that Otta was situated in. The views were stunning but I found myself looking down at my feet more and more. I was subconsciously moving closer and closer to Dom. I’m glad he didn’t think I was making a pass at him as I leant more and more over the gear stick and onto his side of the car. Soon we had safely made it into Otta where Dom dropped me off at a shopping center and I headed in to see if I could get a knee support. I found the pharmacy and waited for my turn to be served. Once my number was called, I asked in Swedish if the woman could speak English but surprisingly she said she couldn’t so I continued in Swedish with her talking Norwegian. Thank goodness the two languages are quite similar to the point that I could understand the majority of what she said and fill in the blanks when unsure. She was most helpful, not only supplying me with an amazing knee support but helping me offload over 700 Norwegian kronor for it. Norway doesn’t come cheap. But as soon as I put that support on I knew I would be alright. I walked out to Dom with a spring in my step and we headed back up to Mysusæter, with the drop now on Dom’s side of the car so I could relax a bit. Just a little, mind. I really don’t like heights.
Of course once we had parked the car we started taking pictures of, well, everything. Small cabins by a lake with glorious mountains behind, lone trees (again) and rain storms thundering along in the distance. We finally arrived at the double waterfall again knowing that they’d take up most of our time and boy did they deliver. It was soon after taking this photo that I noticed another photographer had joined us. And he had the most beautiful dog I had seen, at least in Norway….
Storulfossen part 2
It was the next morning and as I got up I gingerly examined my knee. The swelling had gone down, so perhaps it was a one-off and today there would be no issues. Ten minutes, and some light walking around inside the cabin said otherwise. My knee ballooned up again. There was no way I’d be walking the ten kilometers round trip to the waterfall we had planned to visit in the morning. “Go on without me” I told Dom and in true Clarkson, Hammond and May spirit he left me behind :D It wasn’t all bad as I got to finish that thriller book I had bought with me, hobbled around just outside the cabin trying to take the odd photo and then preparing the evening’s dinner (roasted potato wedges, pork tenderloin, fried apples and a chanterelle and port wine sauce if you were wondering).
After a couple of hours Dom had come back from his solo hike. “Rubbish waterfall” he declared again. I wasn’t sure if he was trying to be nice to me or if it was some code word for “excellent”. Turned out to be the latter. Yet another place to add to my ever increasing “places-I-must-visit-when-back-here-again” list. I wasn’t too sure if I could make the afternoon short hike to Storulfossen again even with the help of walking sticks. That was when Dom came up with the genius idea of driving down to the town of Otta and seeing if I could buy a knee support today and not tomorrow when we planned on an outing further afield. Why didn’t I think of that? And why was Dom suddenly turning into a copy of my wife and coming up with brilliant solutions to my problems? We had a quick bite to eat and packed our camera bags and headed down the short path to the car.
Now some of you might know I have quite a fear of heights. In fact, the first time I met Dom in Cornwall he led me over a narrow path with long, almost vertical drops to the death either side that he affectionately refers to as the “ledge of doom”. It still sends my heart racing away as my knees quiver when thinking about it even now. So I was, to say it mildly, a little nervous to be sitting in the passenger seat of my car as Dom drove. It wasn’t his driving that made me nervous rather the very, very long drop a couple of meters to my right. Only a few rows of trees were between me and, at places, a 500 meter drop down into the valley that Otta was situated in. The views were stunning but I found myself looking down at my feet more and more. I was subconsciously moving closer and closer to Dom. I’m glad he didn’t think I was making a pass at him as I leant more and more over the gear stick and onto his side of the car. Soon we had safely made it into Otta where Dom dropped me off at a shopping center and I headed in to see if I could get a knee support. I found the pharmacy and waited for my turn to be served. Once my number was called, I asked in Swedish if the woman could speak English but surprisingly she said she couldn’t so I continued in Swedish with her talking Norwegian. Thank goodness the two languages are quite similar to the point that I could understand the majority of what she said and fill in the blanks when unsure. She was most helpful, not only supplying me with an amazing knee support but helping me offload over 700 Norwegian kronor for it. Norway doesn’t come cheap. But as soon as I put that support on I knew I would be alright. I walked out to Dom with a spring in my step and we headed back up to Mysusæter, with the drop now on Dom’s side of the car so I could relax a bit. Just a little, mind. I really don’t like heights.
Of course once we had parked the car we started taking pictures of, well, everything. Small cabins by a lake with glorious mountains behind, lone trees (again) and rain storms thundering along in the distance. We finally arrived at the double waterfall again knowing that they’d take up most of our time and boy did they deliver. It was soon after taking this photo that I noticed another photographer had joined us. And he had the most beautiful dog I had seen, at least in Norway….