Norway

Some of the people here have ovens made of soapstone; cooking pots likewise.

The fireplaces have no chimneys and consist of no more than a little pit containing an oven. There is always a small fire in the oven so that it stays warm. They bake using the embers, never baking in the oven itself. All the smoke goes up under the roof, which is thus completely black, and out through a specially made hole in the middle of it. The door is left open so that the smoke can get out more easily. This is done to prevent all the heat going out through the chimney – though that is a really lame excuse since just as much heat goes out through the door. There is a square cover on top of the hole in the roof and it rests on a pole so that the hole can be opened and closed from the inside. There is no shortage of clay and stones. The walls in the houses are never perpendicular: each log is barked and cut convex both on the inside and on the outside. The barns are small and low and have threshing floors.

No one can travel over the mountains in winter –

1. because it is so cold that no one can survive
2. because, since there is no food for them at that time, there are no reindeer on the mountains – they are down in the forest
3. because one single reindeer cannot cross them since it is too far
4. because it is not possible to carry enough clothes to keep a man warm nor food to feed him.

Most travelling is therefore done in autumn and summer.

It is a common enough thing among us for anyone who feels indisposed during the dog days of summer to visit a spa. I can say that for several years, thank the Lord, I have had reasonable health even though occasionally feeling a little sluggish and out-of sorts; but as soon as I arrived in the mountains I received, as it were, new life and it was as if a heavy burden had been lifted from me. Now that I had been in Norway a few days, however, even though I had by no means debauched myself, I was again feeling somewhat sluggish, but I revived as soon as I returned to the mountains. Without doubt, the pure and breezy atmosphere contributed a good deal to this. It is commonly thought that the air is thinner in high places and that, for that reason, people have to take wet sponges and hold them in front of their noses in order to breathe through denser air. Were it not that the barometer showed me that the air pressure is lower there, I should have said that this was simply because they have been walking uphill and have become breathless because of the blood pressing on the lungs – just as in the case of someone who causes an acceleration of the circulation of the blood by running or some other brisk exercise. It seems to me, however, to run counter to reason. We know that these mountains are higher than all the other hills in the world because there is not a single river that runs over them; the western rivers run into the western sea and the eastern rivers run into the eastern sea. If we then take into consideration all the waterfalls and cateracts that lie between the mountains and the sea, we must conclude that the mountains have a considerable height both on the seaward and on the landward side. Now, when the wind passes from the land onto the sea and has to cross over this very considerable height, it follows that it must be compressed (which is the reason why it gets both stronger and colder). If it is compressed it must become denser and consequently it often freezes here even in the height of summer. Cold consists of the air being compressed and warmth consists of it being rarefied, the consequence of this being that the air is not thinner in the mountains.

I return to my original point: for those with the opportunity, it would certainly be as healthy to come here and drink snowwater as to reside in dense air at swampy spas, not least in that it would be more difficult for them to deviate from the spa rules by, for instance, drinking strong beer etc. after dinner.

The fine, sparkling and delicious water here is completely dependent on the snow. Snow preserves water as salt preserves meat. It is obvious that the longer water stands in the heat the more it spoils, and vice versa in the cold. The Lapps treasure this water as if it were the most delicate wine. I have seen people in Stockholm who, following the Portuguese fashion, are beginning to drink water, but there is a difference as regards both the water and the heat. Here it tastes extraordinarily delicious. When I was sailing in Norway I noted with amusement how my Lapp servant took water from the sea with a scoop as soon as he got hot. He was going to drink it in his usual manner but, of course, he got salt water instead of fresh. The Lapps always carry a large ladle with them with which, as soon as they get dry and hot, they drink water to refresh themselves without any fear of becoming ill. I did the same thing. And if this splendid water did not exist, no one could travel here – indeed, it would scarcely be possible to live here since both Bacchus and Ceres are unknown; Venus, however, is not affected by the cold. Most rivers and springs have their origin in the mountain snow-water and, therefore, when it is warm in the mountains the rivers run to twice or even three times their usual size.

I showed a Lapp some of the sketches in my book. He became afraid, took off his cap, curtseyed, bowed his head and trembled with his hands held to his breast, mumbling a little as if from the greatest veneration. He was on the point of fainting.

In Norway I heard of a curious method that someone had used in order to take away drums and various pictures from the Lapps.3 Having got wind of such objects, he would ask the Lapp to hand over the drum and the Lapp would refuse. Having asked the Lapp for a long time without any success, he takes his arm, pulls up his tunic and, before he notices, opens the vein, at which the Lapp swoons, begs for his life and agrees to hand them over. He is then immediately bandaged up and the same procedure is applied to many others. I had a guide who accompanied me to his nearest neighbour but the latter was on the point of moving on and could not receive me. My Lapp would not agree to accompany me any further until I promised him a beating with my sword; this was even though I had paid him well for his earlier work and pleaded very much for his assistance. As I reached for the sword he began to take to his heels but had no success since my servant got hold of him. He became afraid, trembled and agreed to accompany me but, since he looked back so often, I made him walk in front of me. When I reached his next neighbour and put my head in the door, my Lapp took to his heels, not going back the same way but to the mountain at the side so fast that the devil could not have caught him. He left without money or bidding farewell. So force will achieve nothing here. The interpreter said that the Lapp would not have been 100th part as frightened if he had seen me cocking my gun at him.

All of the rare plants that I had only found individually or in the odd patch in Lappmark were growing here commonly and I concluded that the seed had been washed down by the rivers, especially as the rare ones were all water-loving species such as ‘Scept.Carol.’ [Moor-king], ‘Astragalus’ [Alpine Milk-vetch], ‘Acetosa emarg.’ [Mountain Sorrel], ‘Pedicularis alba’ [yellow rattle]4 et ‘coma purp.’ [Marsh Lousewort], ‘Asphodelus’ [Scottish Asphodel] etc.