Don’t Mention The War

This morning at breakfast, our proud host, Tor, shared a fascinating historical tidbit: ‘The king of Norway once sat at this table,’ he declared, pointing to the centerpiece of our meal. ‘This chair is the most photographed in all of Norway,’ he added, segueing into the intriguing past of the guesthouse where I currently reside—a structure once occupied by German soldiers during the Second World War.

Tor continued his narrative, revealing that when they acquired the property thirty-eight years ago, they stumbled upon a cellar inventory. To illustrate, he produced a bottle of Pepsi Cola. Examining the fine print, we learned that Pepsi production persisted during the war in Hamburg under license, a surprising detail.

As I sat at the table surrounded by mostly German (and one Spanish) tourists, I pondered the significance of Tor’s revelation. How did they, descendants of a complex history, feel about being reminded of the Nazi occupation? Does the weight of history linger, passed down through generations? Lacking both the courage and inclination to broach the subject, I recalled the cautionary tale of “Fawlty Towers” and its notorious episode.”

Adding to the mix, right in the heart of Narvik, there’s an impressive museum dedicated to the town’s wartime history. However, as I explored the museum today, a subtle unease settled in. Amidst the displays of weaponry, including guns, tanks, and bullets, it occurred to me how someone with a fervent fascination for war might find the place appealing, albeit for all the wrong reasons. It briefly concerned me that some might view this museum as an opportunity to indulge in wartime battles and fantasies.

My focus gravitated towards the numerous photographs adorning the walls. I yearned to examine the faces captured in those frames, seeking a profound understanding of the individuals on both sides and gaining insight into their lives during that era. The image that left the most profound impact on me was that of a prisoner of war—a young man, scarcely twenty years old, almost reduced to skin and bones. This poignant snapshot stirred deep emotions within me.

Photographs in the museum also demonstrate just how badly damaged the town was due to bombing, which also surprised me.

The museum is certainly a worthwhile visit, by the way.

As for the one-hour LKAB sightseeing tour I embarked on, I’m a bit less convinced of its merits. LKAB is the prominent mining company operating in Kiruna and Narvik, supplying approximately 3% of the world’s iron ore at the moment. The Kiruna mine is touted as the world’s largest iron ore mine, although I sense your eyes may be glazing over at these details.

The tour offered an intriguing behind-the-scenes glimpse into what is evidently the town’s most significant employer. It was fascinating to observe the men working in the mines. Additionally, the tour took us around much of the town, providing clarity on the significance of various monuments. Many of these monuments seem to pay homage to the miners and workers of the community, with some statues exhibiting almost Soviet-like attributes in celebrating strength and hard work.

Narvik is unmistakably a predominantly working-class community, evident in both the visual imagery and the faces of its residents as you stroll down the street. The people here differ notably from those I encountered in Sweden. I haven’t come across a single individual with the typical bleach-blonde Swedish appearance. Instead, there’s a prevalence of mousy brown and red hair. The faces range from quite pale to deeply tanned, with little in between.

This distinction was apparent when I visited the supermarket today to grab a few things for lunch and dinner. Despite the guest house owner’s assurance that all Norwegians speak English well, I found myself needing to speak slowly and deliberately when searching for a couple of items.

“Are you English?” Irene, our tour leader, asked, to which I responded in the negative. Not many Australians seem to venture this far north, though I did spot the name of someone from Maryborough in Queensland above mine in the war museum guest book.

The weather today was spectacular, and it’s expected to improve tomorrow. My plans for the day include more relaxation and possibly the fjord tour, depending on the weather. Unlike the earlier part of my holiday, this leg is all about unwinding. You truly know you’re on holiday when figuring out what day it is becomes a delightful challenge, and that’s precisely how I’m feeling at the moment—completely relaxed.