Måløya Island
Traveling generally means you have an allotted, fleeting, finite amount of time in which to see the sights, eat the eats and usually that amount of time is short, jam packed with activities. In living, there is a slower approach to seeing and doing, not always or for everyone, but often. Yes, in part because of work, responsibilities and time off sometimes needs to be spent relaxing on the couch not exploring. I had been meaning to visit Måløyå all summer, an island in the archipelago chain surrounding our island, southwest and several times larger it is home to a small village and a fair few summer cottages.
My eldest sister Emily’s visit meant I had a few extra days off and so in my sweetest voice I asked my friend Tom if he might drive us over to Måløyå one morning that week. When the day arrived the weather was so beautiful, a crisp fall day umbrellaed by a bright blue sky, that a few friends joined us for the short boat ride to catch some views and a dose of fresh air. Tom dropped us off and we agreed to meet back at the dock in three hours.
From the dock the trail took us past the house of a family who live there all year round, doing some work around their farm. Past this house the trail traversed across beautiful fields of autumn gold until we met the sea on the opposite side of the island, facing northwest, the silhouette of Lofoten stretching across the horizon.
A view of our local peaks
We were on our way to find a collection of beaches at the southern end of the island. Along the way, we passed through a classic Norwegian village. The houses of red, white and yellow in perfect harmony with the land: golden grasses and sunlight, red trees and plants I do not know, white enhancing the subtle crowns of first snow worn by distant mountains. Some had grassy roofs, a sod or turf roof, a traditional practice in Norway and more generally in Scandinavia, a more literal harmony between house and land.
Every few steps I said to Emily, “Actually, I would have that one as my cabin.”
The Beaches
Our trail left the village behind and lead us through a small forest where fallen leaves donned intricate coats of frost from the night, shaded from the sun, and passed by the remnants of a stone wall that sent my mind a flurry with questions: was this wall old, if so how old? and who built it? when did the first humans settle on this island and why here? An Anthropologist through and though.
Lost in thought, it was my feet landing in sand that brought me out of my internal wondering to realize we had made it to the first beach. We took our time taking in the beauty of this spot, admiring shells and sea glass, basking in the warm golden sun. Autumn in the Arctic, and winter, mean the sun is perpetually at an angle, casting magical golden light almost all day.
The Second Beach
From the first beach I was unsure of the trail, but I knew we wanted to head west towards the side of the island that faced Lofoten. We found our way over several small hills colored golden, red and green, quite festive. The height of the hills offered a wonderful view of Lofoten’s mountains on the horizon, a view that never lost its excitement.
This second beach was already in shadow, the sun no longer high enough in the sky to reach its sands even though it was still early afternoon. It’s possible that the sun wouldn’t shine on this beach until spring, for the beautiful angled light cast by this arctic sun are created by its low degree in the sky. The sun is so low in the sky, even a small hill like the ones surrounding this beach, would be enough elevation to block out the sun’s light and warmth.
footprints of a sea eagle
I think this is a shower but i’m not sure
The Final Beach
Directly east of the shadow beach, across a field of low green grass, we stepped onto the third beach and were greeted back into the sunshine. On this beach we were directly across from the range of mountains behind a village called Helnessund. These mountains are taller than the three peaks local to Manshausen and Nordskot and were already topped with snow.
From the beach we climbed up the hill at its northern end and the small gain in heigh offered an incredible perspective across the channel of water that concluded at the first beach we visited.
Back On The First Beach
Unintentionally, we had walked in a loop. The circle brought us by every beach we wanted to visit and ended back at the first, to admire it all over again.
Eventually we had to say good bye so we wouldn’t be late meeting back up with Tom at the dock. We walked the same trail in reverse and were mesmerized by the scenery, the tiny village, mountains in the background and golden fields in the foreground, as if we hadn’t seen it all just an hour ago.
the dock
We were early and Tom was late, so we ended up waiting for a while. Long enough to feel the crisp of autumn and chill of the setting sun. Long enough to lay down and close my eyes, long enough to begin to process the day and feel immense gratitude flood my body, for this day and the last six months.
This landscape is overwhelming in every sense, for every sense: the colors, the light, the smell of fresh cold air and its touch upon cheeks and noses, the shifting of seasons, the layers, the textures of water, mountains, seaweed and rock. And as I knew it would, writing after the fact it all feels like a dream, far away. I am so glad to have these photographs to memorialize this place.
The landscape kept us company while we waited, though as it grew steadily colder we willed Tom to appear on the horizon. Then, the distance rumble of motor boat appeared and we hurried to the small dock, floating above dark green sea, decorated in colorful tope and hermit crabs.
Tom and Niels, who had come for a second round of fresh air, arrived in the motor boat and Emily and I jumped aboard. I hurried to wrap Emily, who was much colder than, I in a wool blanket before Tom picked up speed and blasted north through the archipelago channels, back to our island home, Manshausen.
