My Gudvangen Dream Life as a Viking – Dream-time II

My Gudvangen Dream Life as a Viking – Dream-time II

I am already there, stood beside Bjorn-Ole, in Njardarheimr in Freyr-Anders’ Gudvangen Village of the Vikings. I am there in my heart. I am already there and in this dream.

My Gudvangen Dream Life II sees me already in the Viking-style life ahead of me in Gudvangen where I will be living (and blogging) as Skald to the Viking Chieftain in Njardarheimr Viking Town in Norway. Stay in place as followers to know what happens next; beware, nothing is made up, yet most of this is dream.0175 gud

NB The fictitious names are taken from those I have known but the characters added to them are based on other people I know.

PS The innocent will be protected until the group decides upon going to war.

PPS You can become part of this by sending me thoughts and ideas adrianspendlow @ or by commenting below (as if you were there).


Dream-time II

We sun-down sat and shared our thoughts and sometimes-news. We brewed this filling of the horn which refreshes when tipped. We clink and watch the fjord walls as shadows fall. “It is alright to compost guys.”

We are greeted by this as we clink because time is fluid here; both in the moment and within the greater context. We are living Viking-style.0095

As perfectly as maybe, research however nods its head in the far ahead in when we came from. ‘It’s alright to compost.’

We have gardened and consulted, learned and conferred. In the dream-time reality of a future T’or-Gunlodd relates how a Culinary Archaeologist tells of little gardens; hut-side herbals: Vegetables adjacent and the soil was different. The soil was different.

We pledge, as of tomorrow, to start a compost heap.vine

We start now in celebration to mark the storage spot by standing there to relieve, (Tove-Marie squats higher up the bank), “Aaaaaaaaah,” sighs Bjorn-Ole for all of us.

Jan-Robert makes a ritual of this by his jocular ritual statement, “We moisten this pit for future growth and state the place to heap”.

As for what they determined was growing in that rediscovered composted hut-side little garden; it was turnip. We will not grow those. (‘Call them turnip, swede, kohlrabi what you will, no’, says Olve-Jeppe.)

This Viking-style reality would be just a bit too gritty a reality if all we had to eat was turnips.

Eel, we are excited about. (Lars-Eirik and T’or-Gunlodd are the most excited and early rising on this.)njord.jpg Eels we want, and other hunter’s produce brought to us. We will make a stew of pine tips once we are made sure of safe types by Tone-Irene.

For this homely garden though we will start with Olve-Jeppe’s herbal plants.

I am already there, stood beside Bjorn-Ole, in Njardarheimr in Freyr-Anders’ Gudvangen Village of the Vikings. I am there in my heart. I am already there and in this dream.0141

My tribal associates don’t seem to mind bees, (a part of their modern minds tells them there should be more of them), but not wasps. We run in fear of these. Well, most of us, I don’t. I watch as they jump and dash with hands fast flourishing.

“I must be mad”, Olafr-Andreas sternly tells me, “or not from here.” he laughs.

“How could I be the Skald and not know about the death of Fearie?”

“The death of Fairy?”

“Of all the Fey; the world of Fearie.”0048 (2)

Nobody believed in them anymore so they dwindled.

I do not believe this myself because I still believe in them and often see them, as does Tone-Irene.

Not enough believed in the long-ago though and all Fearie dwindled badly, especially the little cute gossamer-winged stereotypical ones. Gone. Dead.0113 ev dies 01 flipped

Or as good as dead.

Their spirit moved on. Lived on. Befitting their wishes went on. Went into another creature.

Every reader knows what is coming next.

A wasp.

Whenever you see a wasp you are seeing what once was a fairy.

Every morning a pretty little fairy gently wakes. sol.jpgHe / she is so so glad to be alive, so happy, quite giddy, excited; Oh sweet plans to fly around and frolic. Maybe paint some pansies, have a dance, – Oh how happy to be a fairy. Wait, there is no longer such a place as faerie. There are no longer fairies. What is this thing I am! It suddenly realises it cannot do any of those things it planned. Not a fairy, no – A wasp – Oh it is very angry.

Very, very, angry, always will be – that is why they sting.

This all may be a dream but I don’t make stuff up, I hear it from the eons since of old tales.0135.jpg

Kjell-Toffe the rock breaker returns from rolling giant stones into the sweat-lodge. Newly built, it is for him and Lis-Ravn to try it first. We all shall try it in a future dream-time. For now it is the place of the lovers to explore.

As moon-shone silverfish entwine they are star-struck, with their love moments living on in the vividness of all their neighbour’s knowledge, dreams and imagination. Oh how they love.0107 kiss - Copy.jpg

The faces in the fjord walls change at night, Blathnaid-Brigid tells us. moon.jpgThings appear which were not there at day. The faces become quite stern and angry in the winter time, but now they are just a little more mischievous. There are caves up there that haven’t been up there before.

Loke-Daan tells us there is a path up that steep side; the goat-herder’s path, but most of us would rather not try it. As he drops his heavy load of chopped logs besides the slowing embers he agrees that we are all probably best staying right here this evening.night.jpg

Tove-Marie finds the driest and slimmest of the logs to rebuild the fire for supper-time and mentions the bounty in the sack she has besides her.augelmir.jpg

Brinhild opens her wicker back pack028 sadlebag and with a proud smile opens a muslin wrap to show an enormous fish, “One of the local fishermen gave me it.”

Loke-Daan tells Add-ri-An he now knows what we are having for our well-earned supper

“More wine?” shouts out Siw-Alfadis.

No, his plans are for us all to share the huge fish given to us by the gods.

Tove-Marie jumps up from her task at the fireside, “You haven’t seen what I have yet.”

A leg from lamb still hung with tatters of smoked meat, the one left from the hanging Fenalår.

Loke-Daan comments, “You have had many visitors.”0120 sun 04 The leg of cured lamb which can also be cold smoked to add to its storage duration in these warmer climes of the southern half of this long thin nation, is hung at the tent flap ready to welcome callers.great feast.jpg

Each passer by is welcomed to call for a slither of the chewy tasty meat.

“We have the bone now,” says bright blonde Siw-Alfadis raising her drinking horn in confirmation.

Which of these foods would the party rather have, the bone or fresh fish? It is decided to crack the bone and boil it. The thick dark broth will be very warming and filling. There will be more than enough for us all to feel full and still enough left for breakfast. Later there will be an attempt to build the charcoaled logs around it so it is still warm for breakfast, but that is a task which is not always won.

“What of the fish?” asks Linnea-Ingeborg, “The fat fresh fish”.0054 (2)

I will be delighted to leave it to rot,” exclaims Brinhild.

She shall make Grav Fisk.

It has been gutted to avoid expansion of the juices within and she has rewrapped it in the muslin. “I have a marker over there where the last fisk was buried. I shall bury it there for three months to rot.”

“Lovely” exclaims the whole camp at once.

The previous burial will be ready to dig up and we can dig that out in a few nights time.

Bones tonight, rotten fish at the end of the week, it is a rich time we have,” laughs Bjork-Mari.

So, we shall be digging up some of the older Grav Fisk in the next dreamtime as well as exploring the sweat-lodge and building a Viking Dream long ship, or at least starting upon it, or at least starting to plan for it.


Stay tuned.


In the meantime, look back at other V-blogs

Dreamtime I



One thought on “My Gudvangen Dream Life as a Viking – Dream-time II

  1. Pingback: My Gudvangen Dream Life as a Viking – Dream-time III – Adrian Spendlow The Blog

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