Summer and winter

Today, the Norwegians think of the year in terms of four main seasons: spring, summer, autumn, and winter. But the old Norwegian wooden calendar stick (primstav) divided the year into two equal halves: summer and winter.

The summer started on 14 April, on what the old Norwegians called sommermål, sommerdag, or sommernatt.

The first day of winter was 14 October, called vintermål, vinterdag, or vinternatt.

Midsummer fell on 14 July — and Midwinter on 12 January (some sources state slightly different dates).

Utilising the summer was crucial

The Norwegian winters are dark and cold, with the ground often frozen solid and covered in snow. Therefore, the farmers had to sow, gather, and harvest enough food during an intense summer, to tide both people and farm animals over the winter.

The old farming methods were labour intensive, and farmers could not risk losing any hired hands when they needed them the most. This explains why the old laws only allowed farm labourers to leave their posts on either the first day of summer, or the first day of winter — on 14 April or 14 October.

Depending on the time period, the geographical location, and whether it was rural or urban, the faredag dates sometimes varied.

They called it faredag

Faredag is the term people used when referring to these two dates. The Norwegian word faredag is composed of two words: fare + dag = faredag. Fare means travel, leave, and more. Dag means day. The general meaning of the word faredag in English could be said to be the day that you leave – leaving day or travel day. Another Norwegian word used is flyttedag.

The workers had to hand in their notice ahead of the faredag. If not, they had to stay on for another six months.

If the worker feared that their employer would cause trouble and force them to stay, the law stipulated a solution: they had to make their intentions known in the presence of others. For example, when attending church on Sunday.

Tenant farmers could also only leave on 14 April

For tenant farmers or cotters — leilendinger or husmenn — the faredag was also 14 April.

This makes sense, as the new tenant would then be allowed a full growing season on the new property — otherwise, how would he provide for himself and his family over the coming winter?

Even in current legislation, 14 April is the handover day used in Norwegian farm tenant agreements. Either the farm’s owner or the tenant farmer – gårdens eier or the forpakter – must actively terminate the lease one year prior to the annual faredag – even when the contract clearly stipulates when the contract ends. If they fail to do so, the contract is automatically extended one year at a time.

^{Store Norske Leksikon snl.no}

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On her way to the summer pasture farm

One early summer’s day in 1836, milkmaid (budeie) Kari Moen was on her way to the Sauherad forest land, to the lake Eiangen, and to one of the seasonal summer pasture farms (setre/setrer) in the area, Eiangsetrene.

With her on the journey were the livestock from one of the farms down in the valley and a young herder boy (gjetergutt).

For the whole summer, she and the herder boy would look after the livestock and stay in simple forest abodes.

Kari’s job was to milk the cows every morning and evening, and to make butter and cheese, getting the most out of every drop.

The boy’s job was to guard the livestock all day, as the animals grazed and enjoyed the freedom of summer.

But there was danger

Lost in thought, Kari followed the familiar path through the forest. She walked and knitted at the same time, as most women did in those days, never an idle moment.

She hadn’t noticed that the herd and the herder boy had lagged behind and were nowhere to be seen.

Suddenly, she heard a strange snorting sound right behind her and jumped. When she turned, she saw a bear standing on its two hind legs, ready to attack.

The first blow

The bear’s first blow hit Kari on the head and threw her to the ground. Luckily, she did not faint, and knew that her only hope was to lie perfectly still and pretend to be dead.

She closed her eyes and held her breath as the bear leaned over her face, checking whether she was still breathing. Waves of pain rushed through her body.

Kari must have moved slightly, because the bear suddenly gave her three more blows and bit her across the face. Blood was streaming.

With all her willpower, Kari remained quiet and motionless.

The bear started digging a hole

The bear moved slowly towards a nearby bog-ditch and started to dig a hole to put her body in — a caching behaviour bears may use when they do not intend to eat their prey right away.

Kari half-opened her eyes and saw that the bear occasionally looked towards her, as if checking that she was not moving. She knew that this very moment was her only chance of survival.

She gathered all her strength, got up, and staggered towards where she believed the herder boy and the herd would be.

The boy screamed in terror

When the herder boy saw Kari’s bloodied face, he screamed in terror and pulled away. But she managed to call him back and calm him down.

In a hushed voice, she begged him to run as fast as he could to the nearest summer pasture farm and get help. He should tell the people there to use a boat on the lake Eiangen, so as not to risk meeting the bear when moving through the forest. Kari would meet them by the water’s edge.

The boy raced through the landscape as fast as his legs could carry him, avoiding the place where Kari had told him the bear would be.

Kari herself stumbled and crawled through the thicket down towards the lake, constantly looking over her shoulder.

Saved

The people heard the boy screaming from a long way off. As soon as he had told them what had happened, they rowed as fast as they could towards where they expected to find her.

Kari was still conscious when they found her by the water’s edge. But as soon as she knew that she was safe, she fainted.

Word was quickly sent back home, and Kari’s husband and three other men came and carried her on a makeshift stretcher down to the valley.

There, they put her in yet another boat and rowed 40 kilometres down the region’s many waterways towards the town of Skien — to the nearest doctor.

Kari Moen narrowly survived that day.

Emigrated to North America

In the mid-1800s, Kari emigrated to North America with her husband and her children.

An old saying has it that a wound made by a bear never heals. Many years later, another emigrant from Sauherad wrote to the folks back home, telling them that he had met Kari on the American prairie. At 90, she was still very much alive, but also still wearing a plaster on her nose.

^{Journalist Bernhard Hansen, Telemark Arbeiderblad. The story was retold in the book ‘Gjeterbarn’ by Magne Engernes. Trysil-forlaget 2000.}

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^{This post is based on childhood memories by Othilie Johnsen, born in 1894 in Kiby, Finnmark, Thomas Johansen, born in 1883 in Kvalnes, Nordland, and Mimmi Benjaminsen, born in 1894 in Værøy, Nordland — all from northern Norway, and collected in the 1960s. The text is written in the first person to represent the lives of our ancestors.}

We were rich in other ways

I have happy memories of my childhood. We didn’t have much in the way of gold or riches, but I can’t say that we ever felt poor. As long as we had food on the table and clothes to keep us warm, we were happy and felt blessed.

My parents were honest and hardworking, and I admire them for their life’s work. In my eyes, there was nothing they could not do, and with their own hands they created almost everything we owned.

Christmas

Christmas was an exciting time for us children. Outside it was dark and cold, but inside our simple home there was light, both from the fire and in a spiritual sense.

The weeks leading up to the big day were full of hustle and bustle. There was lots of activity all year round, but Christmas came with something special. It was like a rush that carried us through the darkest days of winter — and delivered us safely into the new year.

The travelling salesmen

Every year, as regular as clockwork, travelling salesmen came knocking on our door just before Christmas. Many of them had walked a long way, carrying their wares from house to house.

We children watched intently as they opened their magical bags. Colourful paper and shiny objects fired our imagination.

We almost burst with pride if Father went to get his wallet to buy something. Later, Mother let us admire the treasures for a short while, before putting them into the large corner cabinet. If it was not too late in the day, we rushed over to our neighbours to share our exciting news.

Trivial things gave us so much joy back then. Nothing is more beautiful than the look of joy on a child’s face, or a feeling of contentment and pride.

Christmas cards and gifts

Sending Christmas cards was a new custom in our community at the turn of the twentieth century. To ensure a reply before Christmas, it was important to send them early.

The teenagers were the most active. When Christmas came, they counted the cards they had received — and compared the number and artwork with their friends.

It was not common to give each other Christmas presents, but the children often got something new, something we needed. It could be a pair of boots, socks, or mittens.

No Christmas tree

Today, we often think of the Christmas tree as the centre of our decorations. But in my childhood, it was quite unheard of. People saw the tree as unchristian, a sign of idolatry.

It is strange how customs and beliefs slowly change, and how new generations adopt new ways.

Christmas preparations

Today, we spend more and more of the pre-Christmas weeks and days in shops. This can stand as a symbol of how different our society has become — and it has all happened during my lifetime.

In the old world, people made and prepared everything at home with their own two hands.

A major task was preparing enough Christmas food to last throughout the season. Even for families with limited resources, the food had to represent something different from everyday life. The Christmas preparations gave people a sense of dignity and pride.

Christmas beer and dram

My father made the Christmas beer and the Christmas dram himself. This was quite a process, and it took a long time. He made both drinks from the farm’s own produce.

He made the Christmas beer using sacks of barley. To start the sprouting process — the first step in turning the grain into malt — he put the sacks into the creek to soak for a day or two.

Making beer had an air of secrecy about it, and each family added their own magic to the final brew.

As I remember it, Father made the dram by mixing potatoes with yeast made from hops and flour. After boiling the potatoes, he mashed them with the water. Then he added the yeast to the watery mash — and set it all aside to ferment until it was ready for distillation.

The finished drink was strong, and to soften the blow, he offered one or two pieces of sugar with each small glass of dram.

Christmas Eve

In our home, Christmas started at 4 o’clock on Christmas Eve. Mother prepared the table and served meat, rich broth, and flatbread.

There was no regular dinner at noon that day, and we went to the table extra hungry.

We dunked pieces of flatbread in the broth — and Mother let us have as much meat as we could manage.

Father read prayers before and after the meal.

Next, we all had a rest, and everything and everyone had to be quiet. My parents only left a simple candle burning.

But by 6 o’clock, we were all awake and alert again, ready for the sound of distant church bells. Both young and old listened quietly, and when the bells fell silent, my father read the story of the Nativity.

Later came the highlight of the day: the extra-rich, tasty Christmas porridge. On top, we had sugar, cinnamon, and a big lump of butter. And again, Mother let us eat as much as we wanted. The two meals on Christmas Eve were pure bliss.

Christmas Day

Back then, there were not enough priests to cover every parish, so the priests had to alternate. If it was our year to have the priest on Christmas Day, we all went to church. If not, my father read from the Bible, and we sang hymns galore.

Except for the possible trip to the church, no one could go outside on this day; everything was to be quiet. We children were not happy about this — and struggled to keep still.

Also on this day, rich food found its way onto the table, and the meals kept us busy for a while.

Let the celebrations begin

On 26 December, the world opened once again. People travelled from house to house, often on and off until the thirteenth day of Christmas.

There was food, there were toasts, and sometimes a wedding before the year was out.

And then a new cycle began

When the holiday celebrations ended on 6 January, we were ready for the new year. January came with a renewed promise of spring, and of the bright sunlight of summer.

All along the coast, the men grew restless and started preparing for the winter fishing expeditions. When they left, the womenfolk of the community once again took full charge of the many duties on the farm.

Happy childhood memories

Our modern-day life may have made everyday life easier, but I remember my simple childhood Christmases with great joy. Just like the treasures in the corner cabinet, I store the memories in my heart. I hold dear my memories of my beloved mother and father, my siblings, my grandparents, and all the great people who once enriched my life so very much.

^{Eidnes, Asbjørn (ed). I manns minne — Nord-Norge. Nasjonalforeningen for Folkehelsen. Det Norske Samlaget 1973.}

More from Norwegian Roots

The old and now seldom-used Norwegian word skjemat refers to spoonable dishes served before or after the main course. These include porridge, soups, desserts, and other spoon-friendly foods. Such dishes helped households conserve scarce ingredients, like meat, fish, eggs, and other staples.

The word skjemat combines the two Norwegian words skje (spoon) and mat (food). In many Norwegian dialects, it is spelt skeimat, with regional differences in pronunciation.

Kjell Martin Sandaker (1926–2013), who grew up on the Sandaker farm in Råde, Østfold, Norway, used the word when recalling his older sister, Dagny Sandaker Ulsrød (1915–2007), and her exceptional cooking skills. Kjell pronounced it skjimat, with the Norwegian i-sound. As a young woman, Dagny attended a home economics school (husmorskole), and, according to Kjell, desserts were her speciality.

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In 1720, in the community of Meldal in Trøndelag, Norway, Vellik Andersson died at the age of 37 after being bitten by a wild wolf. He was buried on 8 September 1720.

Vellik was the son of Anders and Mildri, tenants at the farm Nordvoll, and was the eldest of six siblings. He married Marit Skarålia in 1716. During their short marriage, they had a daughter, Maria, and a son, also named Vellik, who was born in the year his father died.

Maria married Halvar Eriksson Stensflott in 1743, and she, too, named her firstborn son Vellik.

^{Lykkja, Nils. Meldal Bygdebok, vol. 3: Gard og ætt I. Page 144. Meldal kommune, 1956.}

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A landscape of limits

Although large areas of black, rich soil do exist in Norway, they are far from the norm. Even today, only 3.5% of mainland Norway is cultivated land, and two thirds of that is only suitable for grass production.

Norway consists of around 40% forest and 40% mountainous terrain, much of it with a shallow layer of soil intermixed with sand, clay, pebbles, stones, and rocks.

In some areas, farmers must clear their fields of stones and rocks every spring — pushed up from the ground below by the frost. Many a Norwegian farmer may have asked themselves: Will it ever end?

Farm variations

The historical Norwegian farms came in almost as many variations as there were farms. If we were to group them, we might say: coastal farms, flatland farms, valley farms, and mountain farms.

Add to this what the Norwegians call a seter: a seasonal summer location in the forests or the mountains, where the home farm sent its livestock to live and feed during the summer. The seter could be a day’s walk away, or more. The home farm meadows were needed to make hay for the winter.

One single home farm could have several seters: one for spring, one for summer, then back to the spring seter in the early autumn, before returning to the home farm for the winter.

With the farm animals on their journey came a milkmaid, who made cow’s and goat’s milk into butter and cheese — usually accompanied by an older child or two and a dog as herders. Historically, sheep’s milk was also used — and some Sami communities used milk from the reindeer.

Along the long Norwegian coast, farmers also used the many islands as grazing land.

From milder to colder

The many farm variations were also shaped by Norway’s dramatic climate differences. The North Atlantic Current makes Norway’s coastal areas far more temperate than they would otherwise be.

The further inland and higher above sea level we go, the colder the winters usually are — with the ground frozen solid and covered in snow.

The summers are short and often unpredictable. Norwegian farming — particularly in the inland and mountainous regions — has always faced significant challenges and limitations.

Imagine your ancestors

If you are lucky enough to be of Norwegian descent: to understand your ancestors, start by understanding the landscape they lived in. Much of the rest will follow from there.

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A leister is an ancient fishing tool

Lystring is the gerund form of the Norwegian verb å lystre. The word comes from the Old Norse verb ljósta, meaning to hit, thrust, or stab.

The verb comes from the noun lyster, meaning a fishing spear with a long wooden shaft and barbed prongs attached to its end.

In English, both the verb and the noun are spelt leister.

The leister is believed to go back thousands of years, to the Stone Age and its hunter-fisher-gatherers.

Luring prey with light

The fisher lured the prey towards them with the light from the torch. They usually used a boat, but could also stand in the water, on a rock, or on the riverbank or shore.

The leistering often took place when darkness returned in the autumn. The fisher, or someone next to them, held a fire torch above the water’s surface to attract the fish.

The fisher could also attach the torch to the side of the boat — or to a pole sticking out from the boat over the water.

Speed was of the essence

When a fish appeared, the person holding the leister had to thrust it quickly towards the fish to have any hope of catching it.

To avoid losing the leister into the water, they often attached a piece of rope to the end of its long wooden shaft and tied the rope around their wrist.

When leistering, the fisher could catch trout (ørret), pike (gjedde), burbot (lake), eel (ål), and many other species.

Lystring differs slightly from the fishing method lysing, where the fisher wades in the water after dark, using a torch to attract crabs, crayfish, and other prey, and then catches them by hand.

Please note: As a rule, leistering is not a legal fishing method in Norway today. Anyone fishing must first check the current national and local regulations for both freshwater and saltwater fishing.

^{Haugen, Einar. Norwegian English dictionary. The University of Wisconsin Press 1967, 1974. | Det norske akademis ordbok. naob.no. | Store norske leksikon snl.no.}

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Muskox fossils

In 1913, Norwegian railway workers found muskox fossils in the mountainous region of Dovre in Oppland, central Norway. The fossils date back to warmer intermittent periods during the ice ages, long before the first humans arrived in this part of the world. Human history in Norway only began after the end of the most recent ice age, some 11,500 years ago. Scientists do not believe that the muskox existed in Scandinavia between then and modern times.

Muskox origins

The muskox species originated in the temperate highlands of Central Asia. Later, it made the Arctic and the permafrost tundra its prime habitat.

Through the millennia, the muskox expanded its territories along the edge of the treacherous ice age glaciers, across Europe, Asia, North America, and Greenland.

Almost extinct

By the 1920s, the muskox had vanished from most of its historical habitats and was on the brink of extinction, with only a few herds surviving in Arctic Canada and on Greenland’s tundra.

The Norwegians decided to help, and between 1924 and 1927, they moved 12 individuals from Greenland to Gurskøya, an island in the region of Møre og Romsdal on Norway’s western coast. Sadly, they all died.

In 1932, enthusiasts released 12 individuals from Greenland in the previously mentioned region of Dovre. All were illegally hunted and killed during the Second World War.

While Gurskøya lay exposed on Norway’s storm‑beaten western coast, Dovre’s inland mountains offered a harsher but more stable environment, closer to the muskox’s natural habitat.

Between 1947 and 1953, a third, successful attempt brought 21 muskox individuals from Greenland to Dovre.

Thriving

Despite occasional setbacks, the Norwegian muskox population has since survived, flourished, and grown in number. In 2019, the Dovre herd numbered 237 bulls, cows, and calves.

Over the years, a few strays moved east to Femundsmarka and Härjedalen on the Swedish border and settled there.

Beware the danger

When visiting Norway, you can witness the magnificent muskox in its natural habitat; however, we strongly advise you to do so on a guided tour. Heed all local advice — and be safe rather than sorry.

^{Lundh, Nils G. (editor). Moskus. Sør-Trøndelag fylke – Länsstyrelsen i Jämtlands län, 1992.}

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Hunting, fishing, and gathering came first

Let us journey through time — and place ourselves somewhere along the coast of Norway in the Early Stone Age. The glaciers from the latest ice age are now mostly gone, and the landscape and coastal waters are abundant with wild plants and animals. The overall human population is very small.

We visit a family group living in simple dwellings with simple tools — and equally simple vessels on the water.

The landscape they live in has a rhythm — a cycle: spring, summer, autumn, and winter. In colder climes, like Scandinavia, the seasons are much more intense and dramatic than in many other parts of the world.

This annual cycle — and the distinctive Nordic version of it — lies at the core of Norwegian human history and culture.

To survive, our hosts migrate with the prey and the resources, through a vast stretch of land — their territory and hunting grounds. It is a hard and vulnerable existence — especially for the young and the old. The long cold season — with its frost and often deep snow — can be brutal.

In spring, the wild animals have their young, and the plants start to grow. All through summer and autumn, everything develops and matures. The animals, including the humans, fatten and build up reserves — all in preparation for surviving the upcoming winter.

An existence based on hunting-fishing-gathering depends on constant and reliable access to fresh foods. To mitigate the risk of starvation, the early humans developed methods of preservation, such as drying meat, fish, and plants.

Farming — an add-on revolution

From around 4,000 BC, the farming revolution slowly found its way to southern Scandinavia — and then gradually further into what is today Norwegian territory. But farming in Mesopotamia or Italy was very different from farming in the cool North.

Even today, only 3.5 per cent of mainland Norway is agricultural land — and two-thirds of that is limited to grass cultivation and animal husbandry.

Norwegian farming has always faced significant limitations. Crop farming has, for the most part, played a secondary role, except for in a few soil-rich areas. The cold climate also meant short growing seasons.

But a landscape made up of almost 40 per cent forests and 40 per cent mountainous terrain is a perfect world for the keeping of domesticated animals. During the summer, the animals roamed free, feeding on lush and nutritious grass, leaves, and bushes. To safeguard the livestock, herders followed and protected them. This was often the job of the older children.

For the Norwegians, farming was an add-on rather than a completely parallel way of life. Instead of being strictly hunter-fisher-gatherers, many groups became hunter-fisher-gatherer-farmers. For each group, the proportional mix of hunting, fishing, gathering, and farming varied greatly, depending on where they lived and the available resources in their surroundings.

Increased food security

Let us journey through time again to a family group living in the same landscape as before. We are now well into the Later Stone Age — and the population is slightly larger. The climate and the mix of plants and animals are perhaps somewhat different.

We can see that there is a clear change: our family group has learned how to grow grain and keep domesticated animals. They still hunt, fish, and gather, but instead of relying only on fresh foods throughout the year, they now depend more on stores of preserved supplies. From the domesticated cows, sheep, goats, and pigs, they get meat, milk, hides, and wool.

At this point, their way of life has shifted enough to change how they use the landscape: they now need less territory to survive and have become more stationary, although not completely.

We can think of the historical Norwegian farm as a compact version of the old hunting grounds. Instead of constantly being on the move to ensure enough food to sustain the family, the newfound ways of farming gave them greater stability.

The farm and its surroundings had to provide every essential its inhabitants needed to survive. Any surplus could be used to barter for commodities they could not produce or gather themselves.

Over millennia, food preservation methods like smoking and fermenting — and, much later, salt-curing — were added to the mix. Preserved fresh food could be stored for months — even years, in many cases.

Today, we think of butter and cheese as delicacies — which they are — but above all, they are ways of preserving fresh milk. To feed the domesticated animals over the winter, the humans collected and dried grass (hay), moss, leaves, and more.

This gradual shift in ways of life laid the foundations for the more settled communities that would later define Norwegian rural life.

FARMER AND FARM

The Norwegian word for farmer is bonde — which stems from the Old Norse búandi, meaning a person with a fixed abode or someone living in one place.

The Norwegian word for farm is gård or gard — which stems from the Old Norse garðr, meaning fenced-in land, fortified site, or a garden — used to cultivate grass or crops or to safeguard domesticated animals.

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Mjøsa

It was on Mjøsa that Skibladner made her maiden voyage in 1856, serving as both a passenger and a freight vessel. Remarkably, she is still there.

Mjøsa was created by the glaciers of the ice ages. It is surrounded by rolling farmland and large forests, and lies just northeast of Norway’s capital, Oslo.

The Norwegians refer to Skibladner as Mjøsas hvite svane — the white swan of Mjøsa. Her owners named her after the ship belonging to the Norse fertility god Frøy (Freyr).

Frøy’s legendary ship could sail both on land and water, always blessed with a favourable tailwind. It could also be folded up, like a piece of cloth, and put into a pouch.

Linked to Norway’s first railway

Eidsvoll, Skibladner’s southernmost stop, was and is a connection point to Norway’s first stretch of railway: the Oslo to Eidsvoll line (Hovedbanen). The railway opened in 1854.

Skibladner’s early years coincided with Norway’s budding industrial revolution. With the steam engines came a new era of prosperity and change in society.

Skibladner continued her journey through history, and had an advantage that the ever-expanding railway did not: it connected Mjøsa’s eastern and western shores.

She has sunk twice

Ice covers Mjøsa during the coldest period of winter, and it fills with mountain-snow meltwater in early summer. The ice gives Skibladner some well-earned time for rest and repair.

In 1937, she spent her winter at Minnesund. Substantial amounts of snow made her tip over to one side, and water found its way in through an open valve. She sank quickly and was barely visible above the waterline. Friendly hands joined to restore her.

In 1967, she sank once more, again at Minnesund, and this time she was uninsured. Fortunately, the Norwegian Army’s engineer corps came to her rescue.

A tourist attraction

Today, Skibladner’s winter home is a half-open boathouse at Gjøvik. From Gjøvik, Skibladner follows different sailing routes. Some days, she travels as far north as to the Olympic city of Lillehammer.

In the new millennium, Skibladner is primarily a tourist attraction and runs during the summer months only. She has room for 230 passengers and a crew of 16.

A voyage aboard Skibladner is a step into history and a journey through time. At a pleasant pace, you travel across the ever-flowing water.

Picture a sunny day on the Skibladner, lounging in a deckchair with a book or simply watching the tranquil world glide by, then later enjoying some fine dining in her rustic restaurant.

If you are ever nearby, the sound of Skibladner’s paddles may be your connection to history and to the wonders of this beautiful vessel.

^{Olstad, Jan H. – Knutsen, Eyolf. Skibladner 1856-1981. A/S Oplandske Dampskibsselskap 1981.}

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Shaped by its surroundings

The Norwegian Fjord Horse, known for its ancient features and distinctive markings, has roots stretching back thousands of years. The Norwegians call it Fjordhest, Fjording, or Vestlandshest. Its sheltered habitat protected the breed from significant outside influence. Sadly, it no longer roams free as it once did.

The Fjord Horse’s build is a product of its habitat. Historically, the breed was relatively small. With its robust frame and strong legs, it navigated the rocky and demanding terrain with ease.

In olden times, the landscape of western Norway had few roads. People, farm animals, and goods travelled by boat — or moved along steep, narrow, and sometimes treacherous paths.

Throughout history, the domesticated Fjord Horse was primarily used as a packhorse or to pull sledges, even during the summer months. Wagons with wheels were less common in historical times, especially in the often steep landscape of western Norway.

The Fjord Horse has always been a patient, strong, tough, and relentless companion and working partner. It is said that if a Fjord Horse was pushed over by a heavy load in a steep field, it would remain perfectly still until its owner freed it from the shafts or the harness.

Tourism

In the second half of the 1800s, tourism found its way to the Norwegian fjords. Just like today, ships arrived full of visitors eager to see the sights. The local farm horses carried tourists up the hills to glaciers or other landmarks. The extra cash gave the local households a welcome boost.

Easier to feed through the winter

Compared to other Norwegian horse breeds, the smaller historical Fjord Horse required less hay and other fodder. The west coast’s milder climate and shorter winters also allowed the horse to graze outdoors for longer periods of the year. This meant that it was more common for small farms in western Norway to afford a Fjord Horse of their own. Having a horse on the farm gave its owner added status.

A popular emigrant

The Norwegian Fjord Horse breed has gained an enthusiastic and loyal following around the globe. With its distinctive physique, dun coat, and upright, trimmed mane, the Fjord Horse is a beautiful creature.

It was sad to see it go

A farm horse could live with its human family for two or three decades, and it was painful to see it go. There are stories about people refusing to cash the cheque from the abattoir on the day that their beloved friend finally had to meet its maker.

^{Bakken, Arve M. (ed). Fjordhesten. Norges fjordhestlag. Gyldendal norsk forlag 1986}

Other Norwegian horse breeds

The Dole Gudbrandsdal Horse

The Norwegians call it Dølahest. It is a traditional work horse from the Gudbrandsdal valley in Norway.

The Nordland/Lyngen Horse

It hails from the Lyngen area in northern Norway.

The Norwegian Coldblood Trotter

A lighter, faster breed developed from the Dole Gudbrandsdal Horse for trotting races.

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On Friday 9 September 1892 and the following day, both days from 11.00 a.m., a public auction will be held at the request of the widow Ingeborg Eriksdatter Øie[øren], who is emigrating to America.

The auction, held at the Øieøren smallholding in Melhus, Norway, will include its buildings — a cottage with one sleeping chamber, a food storehouse (stabbur), and a cookhouse (størhus, bryggerhus, eldhus) — along with a fine dairy cow, a bull calf, eight sheep; bedding, beds, cabinets/cupboards, tables, and chairs; a tiled stove (kakkelovn) and a cooking stove; a workbench, various carpenter’s and blacksmith’s tools; two boats; one‑eighth share of a jointly owned herring ring net (sildenot), several herring nets, and various other fishing gear, together with the smallholding’s harvest for this year, consisting of hay, standing grain, and potatoes.

^{Folketidende (Trondheim). nb.no.1892.08.23 page 3.}

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National dish

Today, the Norwegians consume pizza like never before, jokingly calling it their new national dish. But as Norwegian ethnologist Astri Riddervold (1925–2019) explained, the ancient Norwegians had their own version of pizza — the brauddiskr or brødtallerken, meaning bread-dish — prepared more than a thousand years ago. She called it the Viking pizza.

According to Riddervold, the Icelandic saga writer Snorri Sturluson (AD 1179–1241) used the term brauddiskr in his works.

Bread-dish

Since the introduction of Scandinavian agriculture — from around 4000 BC onwards — the Norwegians have eaten bread in various forms.

During the excavation of the Oseberg Viking ship from the AD 800s, archaeologists found round, flat metal pans with long handles. These are believed to have been used to prepare the bread-dish — the Viking pizza — by placing them over the fire. In earlier millennia, flat stones were likely used instead.

Much like with the Italian pizza, the mistress of the ancient Norwegian household topped the bread with whatever ingredients she had available. These could include cheese, eggs, cooked, cured or salted meat or fish, and more. She first prepared the eggs by covering them with hot embers from the fireplace.

Astri Riddervold believed that the bread-dish was the staple grain-based food in everyday life among the Norwegian farming population of earlier times.

While the Italians mainly use wheat for their pizza dough, the Vikings used barley or rye.

Flatbread and lefse

From the AD 1200s onwards came change; now the flatbread (flatbrød) reigned supreme, alongside other grain-based dishes like porridge (grøt) and lefse, a soft type of flatbread. Both the flatbread and the lefse were also made using a flat iron griddle (takke) with a fire or hot embers underneath.

The women of the household made large stacks of flatbread once or twice a year, often baking for several days in a row. The bread was stored in the food storehouse (stabbur) and — if kept properly — could remain edible for a very long time.

To produce enough flatbread for six months or an entire year in one go, it was essential to have access to large amounts of flour. This became possible with the wider introduction of large watermills, managed by the men on the farm.

Before this time, flour was ground using simple hand mills. This was hard work — a task generally performed by the women — who prepared just enough flour to bake the bread needed for the day.

Interestingly, another English word for a hand mill is quern, which is the same as the Norwegian word kvern (mill and hand mill).

Today, the oven-baked yeast bread is the most common variation among the Norwegians. However, it wasn’t until the late 1800s and early 1900s, when cast iron ovens became the norm in the Norwegian households, that oven-baked bread truly began to dominate.

Pizza lovers

The Viking bread-dish is excellent news for all of today’s pizza lovers. When we enjoy bread topped with whatever we have on hand, we are simply continuing an ancient Scandinavian tradition — one observed by the Vikings and beyond. This is something to think about, the next time you invite family and friends over for a lovely Norwegian feast.

^{Riddervold, Astri and Ording, Ebbe. Vikingpizza – Pizza på gammelmåten. nrk.no. | norgeshistorie.no.}

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The northern route

The most common interpretations of the name Norge are:

1. the land to the north,

2. the northern route, or

3. the route leading north.

Looking at Norway on a map, with its long, northward coastline, these meanings make a lot of sense. However, according to linguists, there may also be a second and a third interpretation.

Narrow inlet

In 1847, the student Niels Halvorsen Trønnes claimed that the name Norge is based on the Old Norse word nór, which in this context means a narrow inlet or channel.

According to the Cambridge Dictionary, an inlet is a narrow strip of water that extends from a sea or lake into the land, or runs between islands.

When we think about Norway, with all its fjords, such an interpretation certainly makes sense. In recent years, this second meaning has gained support.

King Nor

Einar Haugen’s Norwegian-English dictionary translates the Norwegian dialect word nor as a mite — meaning an infant or small child.

Michael Schulte, a linguist at the University of Agder, Norway, suggests a possible connection between this meaning of the word nor, the name Norge, and the mythological King Nor.

King Nor was a short man — a nor, childlike in size. According to the Orkneyinga saga (History of the Earls of Orkney), King Nor was the founder of the first Norwegian kingdom. Perhaps a reference to his land gave rise to the name Norge?

We may never know the exact connection, but these snippets of information and theories still spark our imagination.

^{Store norske leksikon — snl.no.}

Name variations

1. Norwegian Bokmål: Norge

2. Norwegian Nynorsk: Noreg

3. Northern Sami: Norga

4. Lule Sami: Vuodna (fjord)

5. South Sami: Nöörje

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Keeping the rodents out

The Norwegians placed the stabbur on wooden stilts or boulders — structures specifically designed to keep rodents and other creatures out.

Throughout summer and autumn, the farmers worked hard to stock the stabbur with enough food to last through a long and frosty winter.

The stabbur contained foods such as threshed grain, flour, flatbread, butter, frost-resistant cheese, and dried, smoked, or salted meat and fish.

The stabbur did not have a fireplace, so the food and items stored there had to withstand low temperatures. Frost-sensitive foods — such as some vegetables, milk, eggs, and other perishable products — needed to be kept in a frost-free location. These were typically stored in a cool indoor pantry or in an earth cellar, either underneath the main house or outdoors.

A building of all sizes

Typically — but not always — the stabbur was a wooden structure. The earliest versions were built using a stave‑type construction, but from the Viking Era onwards the lafting log‑building technique became more dominant, at least in some regions of the country.

The stabbur came in all shapes and sizes, depending on the number of people living on the farm and the volume of the farm’s produce.

Some farms had more than one stabbur, and sometimes the building stood apart from the main courtyard as a safety measure — in case of a fire.

The stabbur had small windows or hatches, but often no openings other than the main door. This helped keep the interior as cool as possible during the summer — and not too cold during the winter.

The only door with a lock

On the old Norwegian farm, the stabbur door was often the only one with a lock. The mistress of the farm was the keeper of the key — a sign of her undisputed status.

In Norwegian literature, the passing of the stabbur key — from one generation to the next — often stirred strong emotions and a sense of change and drama. Stepping down as its keeper could be painful after a lifetime in charge.

As old as the Vikings

The stabbur has deep roots in Norwegian culture. The Viking Gulating Law mentioned the building as early as in the 900s.

One clear requirement in the Gulating Law was that a tenant farmer had to leave the stabbur in good condition upon ending his tenancy.

The Viking lawmakers were also clear on one particular point: if a man was caught stealing inside your stabbur, you had the right to strike him dead on the spot.

The Sami peoples also had elevated buildings and constructions similar to the stabbur, protecting both food and equipment.

Symbols of the past

The old stabbur still stands on many Norwegian farms — now often empty reminders of the past.

Some of the existing stabburs are very old, and many are beautifully crafted and decorated.

The use of the stabbur changed dramatically after the Second World War, when electricity and modern appliances entered the old world.

With its unique shape and form, the stabbur has become a symbol of the old Norwegian hunting, fishing, and farming society.

Who knows — maybe one day the stabbur will reclaim its age-old status, and once again play a vital role — in the life of the Norwegians.

^{Visted, Kristoffer and Stigum, Hilmar. Vår gamle bondekultur. J.W. Cappelens Forlag, 1971. nb.no.}

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