Hamar: A Norwegian Escape

The soft, silent tread of my snowshoes across open fields felt like a rhythmic pulse against the snow-covered earth. Above me, a tall evergreen spruce forest stood like silent sentinels, its branches heavy with cotton-like bundles of heavy, drooping snow.

In that crisp, invigorating air, I felt a stillness – a comforting quiet that seemed to fix a pleasant moment in time, shielding me temporarily from the frantic pace of the everyday world I had just left behind.

I arrived in Hamar, a town tucked along the shores of Lake Mjøsa, just a 90-minute journey from the bustle of Oslo, via the Vy train. My base was the Scandic Hamar, a centrally located hotel that serves as a perfect jumping-off point for the region’s vast trail network.

It’s there I met my guide, Stine Karset Broen of Karset Activity Farm, a local whose friendly chatter eventually gave way to deeper insights into the Norwegian psyche. She spoke of friluftsliv – the “outdoor life” – not as a hobby, but as a necessity for the inner being.

Later, as we moved deeper into the forest together, the snow revealed delicate, soft tracks of white hares and the purposeful, linear prints of a small fox on the hunt. This quiet frozen expanse instilled a feeling of uplifting connectedness with nature and a contemplative sense of joy.

However, the true heart of my journey lay in Norway’s “national sport”: cross-country skiing. Before this trip, I have to admit my skill level was only “beginner-novice.” The prospect of balancing on two narrow fiberglass strips while navigating undulating terrain felt daunting. Fortunately, I was paired with Amund Hagen Kristiansen, an instructor and guide, who embodies the Norwegian passion for the outdoors.

On my first day, we traveled to a premier ski location near Hamar with miles of perfectly groomed trails. My instructor didn’t just teach me mechanics. He taught me the economy of motion. He provided constructive insights into my posture, correcting my tendency to lean too far back, and offered constant, generous support.

“Think of your skis as a firm connection with the underlying terrain,” he told me. Within hours, the hesitant, unsure movements of a beginner began to take on a sense of purpose and the desire to reach the next stage in mastering this outdoor sport. The encouragement I received that first day became the fuel I needed to tackle the more demanding trails the following day.

On the second day, we moved to a new location that was clearly a local favorite. The atmosphere felt electric with the energy of families with children. As I cautiously surveyed the new terrain, children as young as five, in their carefree and uninhibited way, flew past me at breakneck speed.

Their mastery was humbling. They didn’t think about preconceived personal challenges. They simply overcame any feelings of hesitancy.

Among those gathered to ski, I noticed a group of Ukrainian refugees who had come to learn the sport as well. Watching them, I was struck by the power of the outdoor sporting landscape to act as a neutral ground for healing. They seemed unrestricted and free, if only for those few hours.

While undoubtedly the profound sense of dislocation that follows the horrors of war can be a constant burden that no temporary diversion can fully lift, the rhythmic “kick-and-glide” of the skis seemed to offer them a timely distraction. In the shared struggle of learning to balance on snow, the barriers between “local” and “refugee” appeared to dissolve into a common human experience.

The physical exertion of cross-country skiing – engaging every muscle group from the core to the calves – demands a significant caloric reward. After our session, we retreated to the dining facilities next to the seasonal rental cabins. During lunchtime, with a warm, cozy fire at our backs, we enjoyed this time shared with a friendly crowd of locals.

We later visited the local downhill ski center, where the air filled with the laughter of parents and children having fun. It was here I realized that Hamar isn’t a place you observe; it’s a place you participate in.

The evenings provided a different kind of relaxation. Returning to the Scandic Hamar restaurant on most evenings, I enjoyed consistently high culinary standards. The kitchen’s dedication to fresh, local produce was evident in every dish.

I still recall the poached fish and grilled scallops – each cooked with a precision that highlighted the quality of the produce. Paired with a selection from their surprisingly deep wine selection, these meals were the perfect bookend to days spent in the fresh outdoor air.

Reflecting on my time in Hamar, I found more than just a winter destination. I found a community that views the inviting outdoor sporting pursuits not as an adversary, but as a welcoming companion. The people there are genuinely friendly and eager to share their varied outdoor pleasures.

They offered me a brand of hospitality that felt authentic rather than manufactured for tourism.  For anyone looking to escape the sanitized experience of a traditional ski resort, the trails of Hamar offer a raw, real experience.

The author received some complimentary services during this trip, but as always, we are dedicated to providing our readers with unbiased accounts of our experiences.