Chapter 8
Narvik and Me
Somehow I imagined Narvik, Norway, would all be a lot more pleasant—Sound-of-Music pretty with lots of verdant vistas and beautiful people. It just wasn’t. In fact, Narvik, a town of 18,000 people 150 miles inside the Arctic Circle, was downright depressing. And not just because the town was battling to stay solvent after gorging itself on CDOs made from what it thought were American mortgages.
Drab architecture and dull concrete give Narvik a “Soviet” feel. That will happen when a place is bombed into the Stone Age. I’m told it was quite a wondrous little port town before the Germans and British laid waste to it in the spring of 1940.
Gray, endless days. A constant chill in the air. It took me four airplane rides and a full 36 hours to get there. This, in the middle of a beautiful summer with my family in Montauk, New York. Not that I’m complaining. I always wanted to see the Arctic. I actually saw a few moose. And it is kind of cool to witness the sun never going down.
I slept surprisingly well in Narvik. My hotel room put me in mind of what it must be like to bunk on a submarine. Very cozy. I watched a lot of the summer Olympics on a tiny TV in the corner of my submarine bunk. The Norwegians have an impressive number of Olympic athletes for a country with only five million people.
Narvik, Norway
Photo courtesy of CNBC.
My documentary crew and I did ...