Wine Press: Quest for Norwegian wine turns into saga (Part 2)
Ken Ross | kross@repub.com Ken Ross kross@repub.com
Ever heard of Norwegian wine? If the answer's no, you're like a lot of Norwegians.
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This is the second part of a two-part story about Norwegian wine. Part one appeared last week in last week's Wine Press column.

As I explained in the first part of this story last week, I didn't go to Norway in search of Norwegian wine. Unlike France or Italy or Spain, Norway isn't exactly a world hot spot when it comes to great wine growing regions in the world.

In fact, the more I heard about Norwegian wine, the more I heard about how bad it is.

But just how bad is it?

It's sort of like the movie "Plan Nine From Outer Space" or maybe "Gigli," "Ishtar" or "Showgirls."

These movies and a few others are some of the front runners for "the worst movie ever made." Call me crazy, but I'm one of those people who loves seeing something that's the WOAT.

What does WOAT mean?

"Worst Of All Time."

WOAT is a play on "GOAT," a favorite acronym among hyperbolic sportswriters which means "Greatest Of All Time."

GOAT was once reserved for Muhammad Ali but I have heard the word GOAT thrown around a lot lately due to several dramatic victories.

Recent GOATs include Tom Brady.

Roger Federer.

Serena Williams.

So is Norwegian wine the WOAT?

That's what I was determined to find out this past summer in Norway.

If you ever visit Norway, or seriously think about visiting this Scandinavian country, you're bound to hear a lot about "Norway in a Nutshell."

This Austin Powers-esque tour promises people they can see the vast country of Norway in one day.

You read that right. One single, nutty day.

There are longer tours available. But the one-day whirlwind through Norway attract thousands of tourists every day.

If you decide to take this tour from Oslo to Bergen, you'll pass through some of the most beautiful, barren, rugged landscape in the world on two trains, a ferry and a bus.

But why rush?

Why try to cram all this stunning scenery into one day?

Why not take your time?

Why not linger?

That's why my wife and I decided to do a modified "Norway in a Nutshell." So instead of spending a few minutes in the small village of Gudvangen situated at the end of a fjord (a deep, narrow waterway), we decided to spend four days there. And while we did take both trains and a ferry ride, we decided to take two more ferry rides instead of a bus from Gudvangen to Flam then Bergen.

To say that Gudvangen is a small town would be an understatement.

The entire town consists of one hotel, one gas station, a campground and a few dozen houses wedged in between soaring, 3,000-foot-high mountains, rain-fed waterfalls and a dark, misty fjord.

Originally, we were supposed to stay in one of the houses perched near the edge of the water in Gudvangen. But due to a misunderstanding which would take far too long to explain, we ended up staying in the only cabin left in the campground in town.

Soon after we arrived, we walked over to the gas station with a mini mart inside. I knew the station had a small market inside thanks to the Internet. The good news - the market had a surprisingly large selection of meat, fruits and vegetables. The bad news - no Norwegian wine.

I soon learned that the government-owned Vinmonopolet stores are the only stores licensed in Norway to sell wine since they're the only stores nationwide allowed to sell alcohol with an alcohol content of 4.75 percent or higher. And since there was no Vinmonopolet in Gudvangen, the only alcohol for sale in town was beer in the gas station.

As for the only hotel in town, Gudvangen Fjordtell, it did have a cafeteria style restaurant and bar. But no Norwegian wine. Just two or three Norwegian beers on tap.

And since Gudvangen is at the end of a fjord you can only reach by taking a 2-hour ferry ride or driving though a 7-mile-long tunnel, you can't exactly pop around the corner to the next town and see if they have some Norwegian wine.

Suddenly, those three bottles of wine from the Oslo airport and the two bottles of hard alcohol from Logan Airport in Boston in our cabin seemed liked one of the smartest purchases we had ever made.

All three wines we bought were terrific. I especially enjoyed having a glass of wine or Scotch neat on the porch of our cabin, looking out at the waterfalls stretching from the top of one peak all the way down to the valley floor. And after walking most of the afternoon along the fjord or through the woods spotting goats or sheep roaming free, the wine and Scotch really hit the spot.

Besides, we still had a weekend in Bergen to find Norwegian wine. Then I was determined to stop in the big wine store in the train station in Oslo the day before we flew home. And if all else failed, there had to some Norwegian wine for sale in the Duty Free shop at the Oslo airport. There just had to be.

Taking the ferry from Gudvangen to Bergen, I found myself looking at all the little villages along the water and occasionally seeing what looked like grape vines growing alongside the fjord. I bet one of those people makes wine, I thought. I'm sure of it.

We spent two nights in Bergen. We ate or drank in four or five different places in this beautiful city located on the western edge of southern Norway. We also hit the weather just right - two, picture-perfect sunny days with highs in the low 70s. To put in perspective just how nice - and rare - such great weather is for Bergen, this Norwegian city had only 5 days without rain last summer, according to several bartenders.

But for all the luck we had with the weather, we had no luck whatsoever finding Norwegian wine. But I didn't stop asking everywhere we went if they had Norwegian wine. It's sort of like when you're a little kid and you're asking your parents if you can have more ice cream. Or if you're on a long driving trip and you keep asking, "Are we there yet." The answer is no. It's always no. But it never hurts to ask.

So instead of Norwegian wine, I had some terrific Norwegian beer. The hoppy beer craze that's swept our country has made its way to Norway. I especially enjoyed the wide range of Norwegian microbrews available in Una, a harbor-side bar in Bergen.

After Bergen, we took a train across the country back to Oslo. It's one of the most beautiful train rides I've ever been on in my life. You pass by winding rivers, soaring mountains and lunar-like landscape in the high, mountain tundra.

And since the train was scheduled to arrive early in the afternoon in Oslo, we would have plenty to time to go to the Vinmonopolet wine store in the train station. The 7-hour-long train was scheduled to arrive in Oslo at 2:45 p.m. - long before the wine store closed at 6 p.m.

Shortly after 1 p.m. on the train, as we were passing through another picturesque village, the train conductor announced that the train would be terminating in Drammen, about 40 minutes west of Oslo. He also informed us that other trains might not be running and it was up to us to figure out how to get to Oslo.

When we got to Drammen, that's when the drama really started. We were told that a few trains were actually going to Oslo, but they weren't sure which ones. Suddenly, it was a "Lord of the Flies" kind of scenario. Or maybe "Casablanca." Everyone was determined to get on that train rather than be stranded in Drammen.

My wife and I dashed onto one train, only to be told a few minutes later that that train was cancelled too. Then we raced over to another platform. About 20 minutes later, a commuter train arrived. The train was crowded, but we managed to find seats together.

Soon, we were back in Oslo, back in the main train station. And this time, we had enough time to go to the Vinmonopolet liquor store. The store had little flags above each shelf marking what country the wine is from. I could see flags for France, Spain, Germany and Italy. But no red, white and blue Norwegian flags.

Finally, I asked someone in the store where I could find the Norwegian wine.

"We don't sell any Norwegian wine," the clerk said.

"None at all?"

But I thought I remembered seeing something with a Norwegian flag on the bottle somewhere in the store. Turns out that was cider.

And other than that, all they had was Aquavit.

What is Aquavit?

Aquavit is a strong, herb-flavored liquor you often come across in Scandinavia.

Before this recent trip to Norway, I probably hadn't had Aquavit in 20 years. I think the last time I had it was with my grandfather, who used to often go on cruises with my grandmother on Norwegian cruise ships.

If you cross the equator in a Norwegian ship, the custom is to have a shot of Aquavit. I remember doing this once as a teenager when my grandparents took my sister and I on a cruise from New York to Los Angeles via the Panama Canal. Or at least that how I remembered the trip. Although I just looked at a map and I'm sure not sure our ship crossed the equator along the way. All I know is I vaguely remember drinking Aquavit one or two times with the grandfather at his house in Northeastern Pennsylvania a few miles from where I grew up. And I remember Aquavit tasting like jet fuel set on fire.

So the thought of having Aquavit again wasn't exactly something I was dying to do in Oslo. But I figured since I was in Norway - and I wasn't having any luck finding Norwegian wine - I should at least get something Norwegian to drink. So I bought a sample pack of different types of Aquavit.

Walking back to our hotel, I felt slightly disappointed, slightly dejected. It was as if I had made a promise to myself - a promise to find Norwegian wine - and now it was looking more and more like I wasn't going to be able to keep that promise.

But seriously, who knew finding Norwegian wine in Norway would be so hard?

After we dropped all our things off at our hotel, we headed back to Asylet, the restaurant where the owner, Harald, had said the week before to stop in for dinner when we were back in Oslo. Harald greeted us at the bar when we walked in. We chatted and told him about all the amazing things we had seen in Norway the last week - the waterfalls, the fjords, the animals and the mountains.

Harald then asked us what we wanted to drink.

I asked Harald if he had any Norwegian wine.

"Of course," he said.

My jaw nearly dropped.

My search was over.

He then pulled out a bottle. I could tell right away what it was.

Aquavit.

He then poured two small, shot-like glasses - one for me and one for my wife.

He said we could sip them since they're strong, but that most Norwegians drink them down in one, fell swoop.

My wife and I drank our Aquavit the Norwegian way. Down in one shot. Harald laughed, then pointed to my wife.

"She has some Viking in her," he said.

The next day, we were back at the airport in Oslo. And after we went through the security check, the first thing we came to was a large Duty Free liquor store, just like store we stopped in at the airport in Oslo on our way there.

I looked around briefly for Norwegian wine, then searched for a clerk. If there was any Norwegian wine there, I'd need help finding this needle in a haystack.

I eventually found a clerk. He was busying helping a guy looking for (in his words) "impressive" Italian wine, whatever that's supposed to mean. Eventually, the clerk was free. This was it. My last shot. Then I popped the question.

"Do you have any Norwegian wine?"

The clerk didn't hesitate for a second.

"No," he said. "It's too cold in Norway to make wine."

And that was it.

My quest was over.

I felt completely deflated.

I actually felt a bit like Don Quixote. I felt like I had been chasing my own imaginary windmill the whole time, like I had been searching for an imaginary pot of fool's gold at the end of a rainbow.

Even now, months later, I still can't quite believe there's no such thing as Norwegian wine. People there believe in trolls. They believe in magical, woodland creatures. There has to be such a thing as Norwegian wine. I just know it. There has to be somebody somewhere in Norway, making wine in their basement with grapes grown in their backyard. There just has to be. And I'm determined to find them next time I'm in Norway.

Actually, there is such a thing as Norwegian wine. Google the phrase and sure enough a few entries pop up. But most of the people who claim to make Norwegian wine actually make wine in Norway using grapes grown somewhere else. And in my mind, that doesn't count.

So I haven't given up completely. Maybe someday I will find Norwegian wine made with Norwegian grapes. And if I don't find any next time I'm there, that's alright too. Because like most things in life, half the fun is searching for something. Finding it is often just the icing on the cake.

Cheers!