Land of the snow queen

The guide stands with an axe in his hand. He takes a swing at a log on the chopping block. Only, it's not a log. It's dried fish, the basis of Norway's food chain. Yeah, the stuff is hard as wood. "A good assault weapon," one local quips. Slivers are handed around. Fish jerky. Not bad. It's not the first surprise for me here. Hurtigruten's voyage up Norway's coast is not so much a boat trip as it is a chance to see another culture- to travel with the locals, to meet the people of the land. And, oh yes, to nibble their food.

We started in Bergen, with its rich history of the Hansiatic League (a Middle Ages German trade guild that controlled everything), its wonderful museums, its narrow alleys with centuries-old wood buildings, its wonderful fishmarket full of smoked salmon and cod, but better yet, of cheap caviar. Then we were in Alesund, our introduction to Geiranger Fjord.

National Geographic Traveler calls the Norwegian fjords one of the world's most untouched destinations and Geiranger Fjord is on the UNESCO World Heritage list. Okay, so you get the idea, this is pretty spectacular. The highlight was a shore excursion along the fjord that started with a bus ride up Eagle's Road. Eleven seriously sharp switch-back turns that climb 2,135 feet. Off in the distance, we could see the occasional farmhouse, sitting above terrain so steep it could only be reached via ladders.

Back aboard, the next few days were a succession of charming towns and villages, each with its own special features: Alesund features Art Nouveau architecture-a flowery style with curved lines, round towers and bas relief fruit etched across the buildings. Trondheim has Nidaros Cathedral- breathtakingly intricate stonework built in the 12th century. Tromso, Paris of the North, has the stunning Arctic Cathedral, whose stone triangle rises 120 feet like a mountain of ice.

Besides, Tromso also has Polaria Aquarium, where you can walk through a glass tunnel while seals swim over your head. In the end, though, the trip is about the people and the ship."Hurtigruten" means "fast route" and from the beginning, this ship line has been a combination cargo/mail carrier, ferry and tourist adventure. Before Hurtigruten, it would take mail months to traverse Norway. The shipline reduced this to days by finding a new and faster route up the coast. In 1893, its first year, the ships carried 6,000 passengers along the coast. Today, the average is 4,60,000 a year on 12 ships.

But unlike the Alaska marine ferry, which can be rustic and has people camping in tents on deck, Hurtigruten's top ships, the Millennium class, are true cruise ships with efficient, if somewhat small, standard cabins, top notch food, evening entertainment and hot tubs. These ships are not, however, aimed at Americans. Which means no midnight buffets and a lot of unexpected, extra charges (mid-afternoon coffee, for instance) and very little hand holding. You are expected, frankly, to do a lot of wandering on your own.

Our trip on the MS Trollfjord went north from Bergen to Kirkenes, stopping at 34 towns, passing the Arctic Circle, the northernmost point of the European continent, and a host of spectacular inlets. None was more thrilling than Trollfjord. At 11 pm, to the strains of Greig's Hall of the Mountain King, we entered the cut. It's only 1.2 miles long, but every inch is breathtaking. At its tightest, the fjord is 120 ft across.

The ship is 80 ft, meaning a vessel large enough to carry 822 passengers had only 20 feet of clearance on either side. What stood before us were twin sheets of rock, 3,000 ft tall, sliced with waterfalls. At the end, the captain nosed the ship to within mere feet of the rock, then using small bow propellers, just slid it around like a dancer twirling in slow motion. Beautiful.

You don't think of Norway as being a place for adventure food but if you embrace the local cuisine, you can not only have fun but learn the culture. Fish is what keeps the country afloat, so to speak. Locals were even writing poetry to their quirky dried fish 500 years ago. Clipfish is made from dried, salted cod and is, well, salty. Stockfish, which is only slightly salted and exported to most of Europe, is considered a national treasure. Only the Norwegians seem to have the right wind and temperature to air-dry cod. Racks line the bare hills in the far north and it is prepared in any number of ways-eaten with a bit of butter straight or soaked and boiled, fried, you name it. What made it so valuable was that it could last unrefrigerated for 10 years. It dries rock hard and this is what the guide was taking the aforementioned axe to!

Then there's gjetost, Norwegian brown cheese. It's the colour of peanut butter and comes in various strengths-goaty, goatier, goatiest. We also sampled reindeer meat, which is lean and tasty. At a Sami camp, we had reindeer broth, which was heavy with the taste of marrow-perfect in cold, wet, snowy weather.

There were other adventures beyond the food. In Bodo, we went on a rib boat ride-a rubber Zodiac boat where we sat wedged in like a roller coaster car. Call it an amusement ride with benefits. We saw eagles, eider ducks and seagulls. But best of all, we played alongside the Maelstrom, the 30 foot whirlpool mentioned by Jules Verne in Journey to the Centre of the Earth. When we left Bergen in early May, it was spring. Flowers were blooming, the air was warm. After the Arctic Circle, it finally started looking like the far, far north. Soft green hills gave way to sharp snowy peaks.

Snow lay on the ground in patches down to sea level. Ice filled the shallow lakes and a couple of times, it actually snowed. On one of our last days, Antelias, a young Sami man came aboard and told us about native Sami life-that half of all Sami (Laplanders) live in Norway, that some people still live in tents when migrating, but most today live in simple cabins. Also, they don't herd the reindeer so much as follow them. But when I asked how many reindeer his family owns, Antelias frowned. "That is a disrespect," he said.

Later, I learned that originally such figures were secret because of tax matters but today, it's just considered rude-as if you walked up to a stranger in Los Angeles and asked him how much money he makes. On our last day, at the top of Norway, it truly looked like the far north. The low hills were striped with snow. Fog hung over the landscape, sifting like smoke through the round peaks. Trees were far to the south and the tallest thing that grew was brown, grassy scrub. Yet, tucked in a cove was a collection of houses painted in Norway's ubiquitous red, yellow and white; the fishing village of Havoysund, clinging to existence at 70.59 north.

And then, after seven days, we were in Kirkenes. The ship turns here and heads back south. Many people stay aboard, doing the round trip in 11 days. Kirkenes, it turns out, is somewhat of an adventure capital. In summer, you can go out with crab fishermen, watch divers bring up crabs and have them cooked for you, fresh. In winter, the trip is by snowmobile and the fishing is through the ice. Oh heck, I'm gonna have to come back.