If I asked you to name something that you might see in Norway, what would you answer? Maybe you would mention Viking ships, the fjords, the northern lights or even moose?

Whatever you said, “a woman standing in a field and singing in a high-pitched voice to some cows” probably wasn’t it. And yet, “kulning” (aka the practice of singing to your animals to get them to come home) has a long tradition in Norway, as well as Sweden and Finland.

Kulning comes from the farming tradition

Norway’s mountainous terrain and extreme weather conditions mean that farmers have to get creative with the resources they have. 

Traditionally, farmers would move their animals to a mountain farm, , in the spring, to allow them to graze freely throughout the summer.

They would then move the animals back off the mountain in the autumn, where they would either be temporarily housed in a big barn for the winter – or more permanently housed in the Big Farmyard in the Sky via the abattoir.

This journey to and from the mountain was known as “bufaring” – and everything I’ve read about it suggests that trying to herd a load of farm animals along narrow country roads was not an easy or quick task (apparently sheep are the worst).

Once you had successfully managed to get up the mountain with all your animals (and your sanity) intact, you then had to not lose any animals while you were up there. 

If the idea of spending your summer running around the mountains after mischievous cows or stupid sheep »ĺ´Ç±đ˛ő˛Ô’t sound appealing to you – it didn’t sound appealing to Norwegian shepherds either. A solution had to be found – and that solution was kulning. 

“It is a common belief that animals can recognise and distinguish between certain tones and alluring sounds,” wrote Norwegian Folklorist Ă…del Gjøstein Blom in his book, . “Therefore, it is likely that certain song traditions have become attached to different phases of working with animals.” 

Kulning is a woman’s job 

Norwegian shepherds were traditionally women, and therefore, the vast majority of kulning singers were (and continue to be) women. 

Part-singing, part-shouting, the women could stand at the edge of the field and call out in high-pitched tones. The sound would carry through the mountains and valleys, ensuring that the animals would hear it, no matter where they had got to, and know that they needed to return to the farm.

As with other folk practices, such as rosemaling, kulning was a skill learnt from life and other people rather than formal training. As such, there was no “uniform” way of kulning, and each singer would develop their own style, which their animals could recognise.

Different types of kulning for different animals

That said, there were . These are known as “lokk”, which comes from the verb (“lokking” is another word for kulning). 

The most melodically complex was the “kulokk”, which was used to summon cows. “Geitelokk” and “sauelokk” were much more simple, often a single note or a shout, proving beyond a shadow of a doubt that goats and (especially) sheep are the idiots of the farm world. 

But if kulning can call animals, then surely it can be used to call people too? 

Kulning is not used for people

When I was a child, my very Northern English dad was very successfully able to call me,and my siblings over with a single, very loud “OI!”.

Could that be considered kulning? Does that then prove that children are the sheep of the human world in terms of intelligence? Well – not quite. 

Kulning is used solely for human-to-animal communication. .

Much like kulning, laling is a type of shout-song that developed for practical reasons on the seter to send a message to another person, whether that be a shepard out with the animals or someone on a neighbouring farmstead. In this respect, laling is similar to the Swiss practice of yodelling. 

However, in folklore, people could still be susceptible to kulning – as long as it wasn’t another person who was singing. 

The hulder is a Norwegian troll who looks like a beautiful woman – except for her long cow’s tail. According to folklore, the hulder often visits seter, trying to find a young man to seduce.

Given the imagery of young women on seter calling for their animals, it’s unsurprising that stories of the hulder are closely connected to the kulning tradition.

If the “kulokk” is to lure cows, and the “sauelokk” is to lure sheep, the “huldrelokk” is to lure a different type of animal all together: men.

Kulning is not joiking

If you only remember one thing about kulning from this article, let it be this: kulning is not joiking. 

Joiking is a type of traditional singing practiced by the Saami – the indigenous people of the Nordic region. Unlike kulning or laling, which were born out of practicality, joiking is a way of passing on stories and ideas. Joiks can be personal or spiritual, and can play a role in shamanic practices. 

As with other aspects of Saami culture, joiking went through a period of being heavily repressed by the Norwegian State. It is thought that its connection with shamanism drew particular ire, . 

Thankfully, joiking did not die out, and Saami singers like Mari Boine have played a big role in its revival. In 2019, the Norwegian-Saami band KEiiNO featured joiking as part of their Eurovision entry song “Spirit in the Sky”, which won the popular vote.

Kulning in Frozen

So, what do you do if you want to hear some kulning but ˛ą°ů±đ˛Ô’t able to travel to Norway? Well, if you have a child under the age of 10 (or you just don’t live under a rock), you’ve probably already heard it without realising it. 

The Disney movie Frozen features kulning throughout its soundtrack, particularly whenever Elsa uses her powers. The kulning was sung by Norwegian-Swedish singer Christine Hals, .

Kulning also inspired , this time sung by Norwegian singer, Aurora. 

The future of kulning 

While kulning is still practised on seter in Norway, Sweden and Finland today, the farms themselves are becoming less and less common. According to the Norwegian statistics bureau, , going from 1,403 to just 781.

However, kulning is no longer confined to the mountains, it is now recognised as a professional singing style. If you’re interested in listening to kulning, you’re much more likely to hear it now in a concert than in the mountains.

This is a double-edged sword, as while kulning’s survival is no longer tied to the seter, it has almost become too removed from its roots, to the point that .

Personally, I feel a little torn about this. I’m by no means a proponent of “tradition for traditions’ sake above all else”, and I think a thing’s ability to adapt is what ensures its survival. Similarly, I don’t doubt the sincerity or skills of the professional kulning singers. 

All the same, I hope that kulning »ĺ´Ç±đ˛ő˛Ô’t become so elite that it is taken away completely from the people that it originated from. If something’s worth preserving, then surely it’s also worth sharing. Kulning belongs on farmsteads just as much as in concert halls. 

However, if you do see a woman kulning in the mountains, maybe check to see if she has a cow’s tail – just to be safe. 

What do you think about kulning? Would you ever try to use kulning to get your cat to come in from the garden? Did it work, or did it just stare at you disdainfully while you embarrassed yourself in front of your entire neighbourhood? Let us know in the comments! 

The post Introducing Kulning: Nordic Cow Singing appeared first on 51łÔąĎÍř.

Picture the scene. You’re on holiday in Norway, breathing in the fresh mountain air and wholeheartedly embracing the national principle of friluftsliv, the outdoors lifestyle.

Maybe you’re hiking to Trolltunga or following the Old King’s Road, surrounded by fantastic scenery and feeling more rejuvenated with every step.

Or maybe you’re camping in Lofoten or Jotunheimen National Park, sitting around a bonfire under the stars. Maybe the northern lights are even dancing over your head. It’s perfect. Until it isn’t.

An abrupt noise breaks through your peace of mind: an unnatural, pointed rustle of trees from the nearby forest or a heavy, purposeful thump.

You jump and whirl around. Seeing nothing, you turn back, laughing at yourself a little; it’s the wilderness, of course there are going to be strange noises.

Though, now you think of it, there’s no noise at all anymore. All the sounds of nature have disappeared and only the suffocating silence remains, making even the soft crackle of your bonfire or the muffled thud of your footsteps uncomfortably loud in comparison.

The noise comes again, closer this time, and when you turn, you catch sight of something darting out of the shadows and across the landscape towards you. Something big. Something fast.

Almost instinctively, you race to a massive boulder close by and clamber up on top of it, only just managing to pull your foot safely out of reach before it reaches you. A massive wolf jumps up at the boulder, its jaws snapping wildly, blood on its mind and death on its breath.

This is no ordinary wolf. This is a łó˛ąłľ±ôø±č±đ°ů, a varulv… a werewolf.

Werewolf 101

If you asked someone to describe a werewolf, they would probably mention at least one of these characteristics:

1. Werewolves look like ordinary people most of the time, only to turn into an enormous wolf-like monster during a full moon,
2. Werewolves can only be hurt by silver (a silver bullet is often the most practical solution), 
3. Werewolves can change other people into werewolves by biting them.

While all of these traits come from twentieth century Hollywood (for example, and ), the werewolf itself has been a staple of European folklore since the ancient Greeks, and much like the nature of the beast, werewolf lore varies from country to country.

Werewolves ˛ą°ů±đ˛Ô’t as common in Norwegian folklore as these other creatures, including the troll, the nisse and the hulder. Nor did Norway have any werewolf trials like France or Germany.

However, don’t start thinking that this means there are no werewolves in Norway. They’re just better at hiding.

Lions and tigers and (were)bears, oh my!

In Norwegian folklore, the werewolf or “varulv” is a type of shapeshifter or “łó˛ąłľ±ôø±č±đ°ů”. Other types of shapeshifter include the “mannbjørn” (lit. man bear) and, in Danish folklore, the “valravn” (raven of the slain).

Werewolf stories make up a handful of tales in the . The general story is that a husband and wife are out working in the fields together when the husband (completely randomly and not at all suspiciously) tells the wife what to do if she suddenly encounters a massive wolf or bear, before disappearing.

Shortly after, a massive wolf/bear attacks her, and the wife defends herself, hurting the animal in the process. The husband then reappears, bearing a mark where the wife hurt the animal – confirming that it was him.

Naturally, there are variations to this story. For example, in some cases, the husband gives the wife no warning at all before disappearing and then attacking her – which I, personally, would consider grounds for divorce.

Read more: Creatures in Norse Mythology

A lot of the time, it’s not explained how the husband came to be a werewolf. But according to one story (), werewolves are either cursed by someone else or actually a wizard themselves.

Norwegian werewolves don’t need the moon to change into monsters – but they can start to become more dangerous and “wolflike” in the evening.

While they can’t control their change, they can sometimes sense when it happens (and hopefully let their poor wives know). When they change, they put on an actual animal skin. As such, you can cure a werewolf by finding the skin and burning or stabbing it.

Men are werewolves; women are nightmares

Werewolves in Norwegian folklore are almost always men. Pregnant and “fertile” women seem to be the most at risk from werewolf attacks. However, Norwegian folklore does have a female shapeshifter: the mare.

The mare is a malevolent being whose name comes from the Norwegian word “mareritt” (nightmare). She sits on her victim’s chest while they’re sleeping and tortures them with bad dreams.

Stories about the mare are very similar to stories about the werewolf. The myths are so interconnected that in Danish folklore, it’s said that while a pregnant woman who crawled through a colt’s membrane would have a painless birth, her child would be .

Werewolf mythology

The Norse sagas have been a big influence on werewolf folklore in Norway. There are several instances of people being described as “hamrammar” (lit. shape strong), who can turn into something else.

However, this is more of a magical power than a curse, as a hamrammr can change into an animal at will.

The sagas also talk about the “beserkir” (lit. bear coats – berserkers), who are warriors who become so focused on battle that they basically turn into animals. This is where the expression “to go berserk” (“hamask” in Old Norse) comes from.

The “ulfhedinn” (lit. wolf cloak) were a type of berserker that took on the aspects of a wolf in battle instead of a bear.

Going beserk was closely related to shapeshifting. However, as , there is a key difference between them:

“The condition is therefore psychological in the case of the berserk, but physical in the case of werewolves and other shape-shifters.”

That isn’t to say that the lines don’t blur.

Werewolves in the Norse sagas 

One of the most famous sagas featuring werewolves is . 
The saga starts in 9th century Sogn, Norway, with Ulf Bjalfason.

He is described as both a “hamrammar” and an “ulfhednar”, and while he’s often in high spirits in the morning, he gets more and more sullen in the evening, giving him the name “Kveldulf” (lit. “evening wolf”).

Ulf’s son Grimr is of a similar nature. At one point, the household is playing games, and Grimr starts off weak because he’s an elderly man. But as the evening goes on, he gets stronger and wilder, until he almost kills his own son, Egill, in a fit of uncontrollable rage. Egill, for whom the saga is named, also inherits these traits as a berserker.

None of these men are explicitly described as werewolves, and their wolfish traits may be descriptors of their attitudes or behaviours. However, there does seem to be some physical change – at least in terms of their strength.

Werewolves in modern-day Norway 

Werewolves don’t have nearly the same cultural influence in Norway as other fairytale creatures – such as trolls. That said, as a few months after the release of Troll, Netflix released another Norwegian fantasy film: .

The film is set in Telemark, and focuses on a teenage girl named Thale, who starts acting strangely after being bitten by a strange animal, and her police officer mother, who’s investigating some gruesome deaths in their town.

Despite being a Norwegian film, it sticks to a lot of the Hollywood-established tropes about werewolves – from infectious bites to silver bullets. Personally, I’d be much more interested in seeing more stories based on actual werewolf folklore – particularly if it fosters interest in Norway’s own dwindling wolf population, which .

A final word about wilderness safety

If you go hiking in the Norwegian wilderness (and I highly recommend you do), it’s unlikely that you’ll encounter an actual wolf, let alone a werewolf.

However, you should still before setting out. Nature is full of enough dangers without needing fairytale ones.

Were you surprised by any of the werewolf stories? Has your husband ever mysteriously abandoned you in a field moments before you were attacked by a massive wolf? Did you divorce him straight after? Let us know in the comments!

The post The Werewolf in Norway: Everything You Need to Know appeared first on 51łÔąĎÍř.

If your initial response to “Is Estonia a Nordic country?” is an immediate and resounding “no, of course not,” then I think that would be a very understandable – and widely shared – view. You’d certainly have the same answer as the Norwegians that I’ve asked.

However, within Estonia, the answer is a lot more nuanced. In 2013, a project named  “” found that 53.5% of Estonians in Estonia considered being “Nordic” as important or very important to their identity, while 52.8% viewed themselves as Baltic.

In addition, “Estonians” in Estonian is “põhjamaalased”, meaning “northern people”, and “põhjala” is often used to mean “Nordic”. Therefore, an argument could be made that Estonians in their own language refer to themselves as “Nordic people”.

You’re probably wondering “why do so many Estonians consider themselves to be Nordic?”, and lucky for you, that’s what this whole blog post is about. But first we need to figure out what being “Nordic” actually means.

What is a Nordic country?

Coming from England, which is one of the three countries in Great Britain, which is the biggest island in the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland (aka “the UK”), I understand that regions can be tricky. So let’s break it down.

Scandinavia is a geographical region in Northern Europe that consists of Norway, Sweden and Denmark. These three countries share a great amount of history, culture and language.

The Nordic Region consists of Scandinavia, Finland, Iceland, the Faroe Islands, Greenland and Ă…±ô˛ą˛Ô»ĺ. The word “Nordic” comes from the Norse word “norden”, meaning “the north”.

Nordic countries also share a lot of history, culture and language. There’s a shared love of black coffee, an appreciation for outdoor activities regardless of weather, and a mildly concerning habit of channeling their feelings about long, dark winters into crime novel.

However, since the establishment of the Nordic Council as part of the Helsinki Treaty in 1962, the Nordic countries are also connected by formalised political agreements to collaborate.

The Baltics refers to three countries that border the Baltic Sea: Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania. The Baltics is both a geographical region and a political agreement, as the three Baltic countries collaborate through the Baltic Assembly, which was established in 1990.

The Baltic countries are not quite as close as the Scandinavian countries. Estonia in particular is an outlier, as while Latvia and Lithuania share linguistic and cultural similarities, Estonia is closer to Finland (we’ll come back to this).

However, there is one big thing that these three countries have in common.

Pulling back the Iron Curtain

All three Baltic countries were part of the Russian Federation until 1918. They were then reinvaded by Russia during World War 2, and remained part of the Soviet Union until 1991.

The Nordics have always been strong supporters of the Baltics gaining independence from Russia, and attended the Baltic Assembly’s inauguration in Tallinn in 1991. The Nordic Baltic 8 (NB8) was formed in 1992, formalising the cooperation between Nordic and Baltic countries.

One argument that Estonians who feel very strongly Nordic make is that if Estonia hadn’t been occupied by Russia when the Helsinki Treaty was signed, .

So let’s talk about the reasons that the Estonians may feel Nordic.

Estonia and Finland 

Since Sweden and Finland also border the Baltic sea, they have a long history of trading with the Baltic countries. However, Estonia and Finland are particularly close – in all senses of the word (it takes just two hours to travel directly ).

Estonians and Finns have many cultural ties – not least, both peoples love going to the sauna. However, their languages are also both members of the “Finno-Ugric” language family.

Simply put, refers to a group of languages that developed from one common language ancestor.

Both Latvian and Lithuanian are part of the Baltic language family, while Norwegian, Swedish, Danish, Icelandic and Faroese are part of the North Germanic language family. Greenlandic is part of the Inuit–Yupik–Unangan family.

Languages being part of the same language family does not necessarily mean they are mutually intelligible.

If you speak Finnish, you can’t automatically understand Estonian, and vice versa. But the languages do have shared roots and therefore have more in common than they do with their Scandinavian and Baltic neighbours.

In addition, Finland also used to be ruled by Russia, declaring its independence in 1917, and even used to be classified as a Baltic country before it became Nordic.

Estonia and Scandinavia 

Much like Finland, Estonia has also been ruled by Sweden. Unlike the Finns, Estonians remember the Swedes much more fondly, sometimes referring to their time under Swedish rule from 1558 to 1710 as “”.

This is possibly less surprising when you learn that the Russians took over Estonia afterwards.

As a result, Estonian has a lot of Swedish loan words, and was home to a significant number of Swedes until World War Two.

Sweden is not the only Scandinavian country to have ruled Estonia. Between 1219 and 1346, Estonia was part of Denmark, and is thought to derive from “Taani linn” meaning “Danish town”.

Much like with the Swedes, the Estonians don’t seem to harbour any grudges about being a Danish Duchy. There’s even a legend that the Danes got their flag during the Battle of Lyndanisse, when they were invading Estonia. To begin with, the Danes were losing the battle, but all that changed when God sent a flag down from Heaven. The Danes beat the Estonians, and adopted the flag as their own.

You can visit the place where this allegedly happened in Tallinn today, in the appropriately named .

As a British person, I’m sure the countries that used to be ruled over by the British Empire think many things about us, but “the good old British times” and “from God” are probably not included.

Additional cultural similarities between the Nordic countries and Estonia include celebrating midsummer / summer solstice and having Luthern Protestantism as their state religion.

So how Nordic is Estonia?

While some Estonians may see themselves as Nordic, this view is not reciprocated by the Nordic countries. In the web comic Scandinavia and the World, it’s a recurring joke that only to be rejected or ignored every time.

Before visiting the Estonian capital city Talliin last summer, I also would’ve said that Estonia was definitely not a Nordic country. Now, however, I’m not so sure.

This is not to say that Tallinn felt familiar. Above all else, it is Estonian, with its own identity, language and culture. Just that, sitting in a small diner with a black coffee and a plate of smultringer (like doughnuts but better) in front of me didn’t feel unNordic.

To be Nordic is not to be the same. For all their similarities, even the Scandinavian countries – arguably the incestuous cousins of the Nordic family – have their own distinct cultural differences that mark them as Norwegian, Swedish or Danish.

If Estonia were to join the Nordics, it would bring its own brand of Nordicness – as the other Nordic countries have done.

As strongly as some Estonians may feel Nordic, there hasn’t been a formal push for Estonia to become Nordic since it originally requested to join the Nordic Council in 1991.

Whether it should become Nordic or not is not for me to decide (again, as a British person, we have a pretty poor track record for doing that sort of thing). However, I suspect that a lot of what is Nordic comes down to perception rather than definable criteria.

Perhaps if Estonia as a whole perceives itself to be Nordic, the rest of the world will too one day.

Have you ever visited Estonia? Did it feel Nordic to you? Let us know in the comments.

The post Estonia: How Nordic is the Baltic Nation? appeared first on 51łÔąĎÍř.

It’s that time of the year when the days are getting colder, the nights are getting longer, and every single coffee shop is selling their own version of the Pumpkin Spice Latte.

In Norway, the changing season means injecting a heavy dose of kos into your daily life.

It's the most koselig time of the year

What is kos? Technically, kos (noun) isn’t directly translatable into English, but it’s often simplified as “a feeling of cosiness”, and Norwegians have a very specific – and seemingly innate – understanding of what can be described as koselig.

Kos is the main weapon in the Norwegians’ arsenal against the long, dark winters, and – when used correctly – capable of warming the heart much more effectively than any Pumpkin Spice Latte.

But does this mean that only Norwegians can make things koselig? After all, if kos is such a Norwegian concept, how can non-Norwegians hope to understand it, much less use it in their own lives?

Lucky for you, I’ve spent five years learning the ways of kos, and I think I’ve cracked the code. Here are five key things that Norwegians do to keep the koselig spirit alive.

1. Light candles

This side of summer, the days start to shorten extremely quickly in Norway, and by October, 4pm can easily feel like 10 pm, even in Oslo. Therefore, it’s hardly surprising that Norwegians are desperate for any light they can get.

However, for it to be koselig, you can’t just have any type of light. Harsh ceiling lights are not koselig. Koselig requires a soft, dynamic light, and a feeling of warmth that makes the outside seem even colder and you even happier to be inside as a result.

Candles are the perfect koselig lighting – specifically, tealights. And lots of them. Arguably, an unreasonable amount.

How many tealights is an unreasonable amount? Well, it’s enough tealights to be considered a fire hazard with a few more added for good measure.

You may think that, given the wooden nature of many Norwegian houses, so many candles is – quite literally – playing with fire. And you would be entirely correct.

Personally, nothing has reminded me of my mortality as much as visiting friends who’ve placed tea lights over every square inch of their coffee table, which is about the same height as their enthusiastic golden retriever’s tail.

For this reason, LED or battery-powered tea lights are also an acceptable option (so long as they replicate that flickering flame motion).

2. Embrace knitwear 

As a British person, any complaints about being cold when I was younger were always met with a resounding and unsympathetic cry of “Put a(nother) jumper on!” from my parents.

Therefore, adapting to the Norwegian love of knitwear was one of the easiest cultural transitions I’ve experienced in Norway.

Read more: 5 Things To Do in Norway Instead of Skiing

The second there’s a slight chill in the air, Norwegians take their cue to whip out their seasonal jumpers from where they’d been neatly put away only a couple of months earlier. You get bonus koselig points if the knitwear is something that you have knitted yourself – or that’s been knitted for you by someone else.

The act of knitting itself is also a very koselig activity, and a lot of my friends will spend autumn knitting next year’s jumper, while wearing the jumper they knitted last year.

The Marius sweater is a traditional choice, but by no means the only one. The sweaters I’ve seen explicitly described as koselig tend to be relatively baggy with long sleeves and highish necks – although that style is also very fashionable in Norway at the moment generally.

Personally, I’d advise prioritising something that you can easily put on and take off because Norwegians alway keep their buildings very warm in the winter; I’ll often leave my house in the morning in multiple layers and have sweat through all of them by the time I reach my desk. 

If you find the idea of choosing a koselig sweater far too stressful, you can always go for knitted socks (or ±ôæ˛őłŮ˛ą in Northern Norwegian) instead. Knitted socks are alwayskoselig.

3. Always have a blanket nearby

On a related note: break out every single blanket you own, it’s time to literally smother your house in kos.

Scandinavian interiors can come across as quite cold, with muted colours, a zero tolerance of clutter, and furniture designs that look like what 80s movies thought homes would have in the 2000s.

This can have its advantages, particularly in the summer, as Norwegian homes don’t typically have air conditioning so having space to breathe (or lie in a sweaty starfish position on the floor) is important.

In the colder months though, having all that empty space can feel very chilly. The solution: cover that space with blankets.

I don’t think there’s a specific type of blanket or pledd that’s more koselig than another. All blankets are fairly equal in that sense. As long as you can snuggle under it when reading a book or watching TV or knitting ±ôæ˛őłŮ˛ą, it’s koselig.

As I write this, we have no fewer than four different blankets on our sofa: not all in use, but all within easy grabbing reach.

I’ve fully embraced the blanket lifestyle – particularly since Europe is currently in the middle of an energy crisis. The only downside is that once you’re under a blanket, it makes doing anything that involves leaving the blanket about ten times harder.

4. Light a fire

If candles ˛ą°ů±đ˛Ô’t giving you the warmth or atmosphere you need, you can always go one step further and light a proper fire… in the appropriate place, of course.

In the UK or US, we typically think of a fireplace as being built into the wall and made out of brick or stone. However, in Norway, fireplaces are often black, iron, wood-burning stoves or vedovn (“wood oven”).

These things are capable of emitting a surprising amount of heat – so much so that opening the door to throw another log in risks losing your eyebrows off your face. However, beyond the heat purposes, the sight and sound of wood crackling in the fireplace on a cold evening is peak koselig.

Alternatively, for a different – yet equally koselig – type of atmosphere, you can always light a fire outside. A bonfire or ˛úĂĄ±ô can either be an open fire built on the ground or in a brazier (˛úĂĄ±ôpanne).

It will often have benches or logs around it for you and your friends to sit on and spend a very koselig evening chatting, eating snacks and occasionally shuffling around to avoid bonfire smoke being blown into your face by the wind. Blankets are also encouraged.

Due to the risk of wildfires, , with additional restrictions implemented in certain places. Always check the rules for your area before striking that first match.

5. Go for a walk 

After spending so much time building a koselig home, you’d think that Norwegians would never want to leave it. Think again.

Friluftsliv or “the outdoor lifestyle” is a cornerstone of Norwegian culture, no matter the season. If blizzards won’t stop them from going out on their ˛őø˛Ô»ĺ˛ą˛µ˛őłŮłÜ°ů (“Sunday walk”), then a slight chill in the air won’t even be a blip on their radar.

Don’t get me wrong, going for a walk on a sunny autumn afternoon when all the leaves have turned orange and make that great crunching sound when you step on them, and you’re not too cold because you’re bundled up in knitwear, does sound like a nice time.

But autumn weather is not like that all the time. Rain, wind and sleet are also staples of a Norwegian autumn, which makes it much harder to leave the koselig nest I’ve built for myself.

Then again, a Norwegian would say that coming back home after going for a miserable walk in suboptimal weather makes it even more koselig.

Personally, I think I’m quite content with the level of koselig I already have. 
What do you do to make your home koselig? How many candles is a fire hazard in your home? Let us know in the comments!

The post 5 Ways to Have a Koselig Norwegian Autumn this Fall appeared first on 51łÔąĎÍř.

If you’re interested in viking imagery and symbolism, you will have undoubtedly seen the vegvísir.

Literally “way” (vegr) “shower” (vísir), the symbol is meant to prevent the person carrying it from losing their way, and is known colloquially as “The Viking Compass” or “The Nordic Compass”.

It can often be seen on viking-inspired tattoos, jewellery and illustrations, and even in video games, such as . Which is strange, as it’s not actually a viking symbol at all.

Norse compass or a Norse con? 

The vegvĂ­sir is featured alongside a number of other (magical staves) in , which was written in Iceland by Geir Vigfusson in 1860. The text around it says:

“Beri maĂ°ur stafi Ăľessa á sĂ©r villist maĂ°ur ekki Ă­ hrĂ­Ă°um nĂ© vondu veĂ°ri þó Ăłkunnugur sá.”

“Carry this sign with you and you won't get lost in storms or bad weather, even in unfamiliar surroundings” ()

This is the earliest instance of the vegvísir in existence. While 1860 seems like a long time ago, it’s still a far cry from the Viking Age, which ran approximately 793-1066.

To add some historical context, the 1860 presidential election in the US was won by Abraham Lincoln… but “the Abraham Lincoln Presidency Compass” has less of a ring to it.

The runic compass?

So, other than the obvious yet tenuous connection of “old and Icelandic”, how did the vegvĂ­sir become so associated with the vikings? 

In his video , Norse Scholar Jackson Crawford suggests that the appearance of the symbol may play a large role: 

“Sigils like and vegvĂ­sir bear a certain visual resemblance to runic letters and as much as they use a lot of straight lines. Some of those particular straight lines taken together look a little bit like runes. You can arrange the æ˛µľ±˛őłóÂáá±ôłľłÜ°ů sigil in such a way that it has 24 points, which equates to the 24 letters in the elder futhark alphabet, but they are not runes because they do not represent letters or even words. And they might not be any older than the manuscripts in which they’re written down.” 

Read more: Viking Runes: The Historic Writing Systems of Northern Europe

The Viking revival

The historical setting of the time might also have played a role in cementing the vegvisir’s viking connection.

The 1800s in Europe was characterised by national romanticism, bringing with it the ““, which saw a renewed interest in Norse history and mythology in the Nordic region as well as Germany, the UK and the US.

For example, Richard Wagner composed his opera, Der Ring des Nibelungen (The Ring of the Nibelung), which draws from Norse mythology such as , between 1848 and 1874. The opera’s costume designer, Carl Emil Doepler, (so cheers for that one, Carl).

Read more: The Valkyries Explained

Therefore, it’s possible that the vegvísir was also an expression of national romanticism, or at least, have received more attention because of it.

Did the vikings use a real vegvĂ­sir?

The symbol might not be from the Viking Age, but did the vikings use a real vegvĂ­sir to find their way across the seas?

As with most things related to the vikings, we don’t know for sure what they used to navigate (I know it’s frustrating, but that’s history for you). However, based on the knowledge and materials they had at the time, . 

Again, however we do not know this for sure, and a solar compass would’ve had its limitations – particularly in the North, where the sun disappears in winter.

Give me a sign

Ultimately, much like horned helmets or the Vikings TV show, the vegvĂ­sir is aesthetically pleasing but has nothing to do with the actual vikings.

That said, it’s very common to see a vegvĂ­sir being used in daily life – particularly in German-speaking countries ( means “sign(post)” in German).

Did you know that the vegvĂ­sir was not actually a viking symbol? Does this change what you think of the vegvĂ­sir? Let us know.

The post VegvĂ­sir: The Truth of the ‘Viking Compass’ appeared first on 51łÔąĎÍř.

A couple of years ago, my Norwegian partner and I were at St. Pancras in London, grabbing a coffee before our train.

The barista offered to give him his coffee for free if my partner would let him guess his height. Never one to turn down free coffee, my partner agreed.

A grande man

“6ft 7” was the immediate – and correct – guess. However, as he was handing over the free coffee, my partner cleared his throat and said:Ěý“Technically I’m 6ft 7 and a half.”

At which point, I almost dumped my own coffee over his head. After a certain point, it »ĺ´Ç±đ˛ő˛Ô’t really matter what the specific inches are: you’re just unreasonably tall. Look:

My partner often seems even taller when we’re together, as I am definitely on the shorter end of the scale, clocking in at 5ft 2 and a half (approx. 160cm) on a good day… and considering my poor posture, those good days are few and far between.Ěý

When people in the UK inevitably bring up my partner’s height, as soon as he mentions he’s from Norway, they’ll often say “ah!” and nod their heads in understanding, as if that explains everything.

Norwegians – like the rest of the Nordic region – have garnered a certain reputation for being tall, which has only been cemented by recent Viking TV shows like Vikings: Valhalla and The Last Kingdom, as well as films like The Northman.

But how tall are Norwegians really? Did they inherit their height from their Viking ancestors? Is Norway inhabited by giants? Or – as I very much suspect – is my partner just a freak of nature?

Average height of a Norwegian

In 2019, , with the average Norwegian man standing at 179.74cm and the average Norwegian woman standing at 165.56cm.

While this is taller than the average Brit or American in 2019, it’s not unreasonably tall.

In fact, Norwegians are actually the shortest on average compared to their Nordic neighbours. Norwegians ranked 17th tallest in the world, while Swedes ranked 16th at 172.71cm.

Finns ranked 15th at 172.74cm, Icelanders ranked 10th at 173.21cm, and – somehow – Danes ranked 4th at 174.29cm. The tallest people in the world are the Dutch, with an average height of 175.62cm.

Are Norwegians shrinking?

Norwegians used to rank much higher in the global height rankings. showed that 19-year-old Norwegian boys had gone from being the 8th tallest in the world in 1985 to the 17th tallest in 2019.

Norwegian girls had dropped even further: going from 11th tallest in the world in 1985 to 24th tallest. 

However, this »ĺ´Ç±đ˛ő˛Ô’t mean that Norwegians are getting smaller. In fact, Norwegian boys and girls are actually 1cm and 0.5cm taller respectively than they were in 1985. Norwegians ˛ą°ů±đ˛Ô’t shrinking, they’re just not growing as much as other people. 

While height is largely determined by genetics, other factors also play a role, such as a person’s nutrition, living conditions and other matters of health when growing up.

Doctor PĂ©tur Benedikt Juliusson argues that to the increasing standards of living in other parts of the world:Ěý

“The fact that Norwegian youth have not grown a lot in the last decades compared with many others means that they have had good living conditions the whole time – while the conditions have improved in other countries.” 

PĂ©tur’s explanation is supported by the study itself: “Although northwestern European children and adolescents were on average the tallest in the world in 2019, much of this advantage was achieved before the late 20th century, and many of these countries had below median height change from 1985 to 2019”. 

The best evidence of the link between living standards and height can be seen when comparing the growth in height over the past two centuries compared to the rest of history.

Human skeletons show before the industrial era: “There is no clear difference between these records suggesting that preindustrial societies were just as badly off as their ancestors millennia ago.”

This is perhaps unsurprising, considering that the past two centuries saw the development and acceptance of modern medicine, national healthcare, social welfare, workers’ rights, etc., which have all contributed to improving the average person’s living conditions. 

So what does this mean for the Vikings?

How tall were the Vikings?

The Viking Age lasted from approximately 800 to 1066. So far, we know that height can be greatly influenced by living conditions, and that the majority of European growth took place post industrialisation.

Therefore, we can safely assume that Viking Age Scandinavians were shorter than modern-day Scandinavians.

gives the measurements of skeletons from a Viking Age grave field in Fjälkinge, Sweden as 160-185cm for men and 151-171cm for women.

This is in line with Viking Age skeletons found in Denmark, which had an estimated average height of 171cm for men and 158cm for women.

However, Winroth states that this is actually shorter than the estimated heights of skeletons from before and after this period, which suggests that “the Viking Age was not a period of relative health with low child mortality”.

So, Scandinavians were not as tall in the Viking Age as they were in other periods of history. But were they taller than other people at the time? For example, the English? 

A study on the average height of the English over the past 2,000 years based on skeletal remains found that : 

Based on these measurements, yes Viking Age Scandinavians were taller on average than Viking Age English people – but not much taller, and certainly not enough to warrant a reputation of being so. 

An occupational advantage

Measuring the height of people in the past is always difficult. Records are rare, and any records that might have existed tended to use biodegradable materials such as wood.

The most common method is to measure skeletons or the femur () to calculate an estimated height of a person. However, this method has its limitations, and you cannot be sure of getting an accurate representation of the general population. 

It is possible that certain vikings might have been taller than average, as that would undoubtedly have been an advantage when plundering, sailing and generally not dying in battle. 

For example, William the Conqueror is perhaps one of the most famous men of Viking descent. He was the great-great-great grandson of Rollo (a Viking chief who was either Norwegian or Danish), and is famous for being the first Frenchperson – and last foreign power in general – to successfully conquer Britain at the Battle of Hastings in 1066.

Based on measurements of his femur, – far above the average English person or Scandinavian of the time.

Incidentally, as my mum likes to remind me, at approx. 152cm and they had a famously happy marriage – aside from a slight hiccup in the beginning where .

My partner has not tackled me off any horses – but he does sometimes put the chocolate on the top shelf, which I consider an act of aggression akin to war.Ěý

Another tall viking is the appropriately named – though we don’t know how tall he actually was. The fact he was tall enough that it became his nickname suggests that his height was an exception not the rule.

However, even if vikings were taller than average, this still »ĺ´Ç±đ˛ő˛Ô’t necessarily mean they were Scandinavian. “Viking” was an occupation, not a nationality or ethnic marker, and evidence of them can be found from Iceland to Istanbul.

Read more: The Viking History of Spain

Estimating the height of vikings therefore would need to consider an almost impossibly large pool of data.

It’s good to not be tall

When I was researching this blog post, there were three key points that stood out to me:

Norwegians as a whole are not unreasonably tall compared to the rest of the world. That’s a good thing, as it indicates that global standards of living are generally increasing.

Individual vikings might have been tall, but Viking Age Scandinavians in general were not particularly tall compared to other Viking Age Europeans or Scandinavians from different time periods.

Finally, my partner is indeed a freak of nature.

Where do you fall on the scale of “unreasonably tall” to “shorter side”? Would you still have married a man after he tackled you off a horse? Let us know! 

The post Are Norwegians Tall? The Height of People in Norway appeared first on 51łÔąĎÍř.

American Gods is a 2017 TV show adapted from a 2001 book of the same name by British fantasy author, Neil Gaiman.

It centres on a young man named Shadow Moon, newly released from prison, who accepts a job as a security guard for the mysterious Mr. Wednesday and gets swept up into a hidden battle for survival between the Old Gods and the New Gods.

Note: this article contains spoilers for both the book and the TV series. If you haven't read the book or seen the series, I advise you to stop reading now! The spoilers begin right away…

Watching out for Odin

In , Mr. Wednesday reveals that he is, in fact, Odin, the Norse God of war, poetry, death and knowledge – among other things.

In mythology, Odin likes to travel around in disguises, and his depictions in popular culture are often no different. That said, while his reveal in American Gods is a very impressive moment in the show, it isn’t too much of a surprise if you know what to look for.

In the same way that (or “Wally” as he’s called at home in the UK) can be recognised by his stripey red-and-white shirt, round glasses and bobble hat, no matter how well he hides, Odin has some key features that tend to follow him from story to story, be it in books, art, film or music.

Therefore, we spent the weekend digging through Norse mythology and re-watching American Gods to come up with five things to look out for if you suspect a character is Odin.

1. Count the eyes

We’ll start with one of the biggest giveaways of Odin: the man only has one eye.

In mythology, Odin sacrifices , presumably in exchange for the gift of foresight (ironically enough). His pursuit of knowledge »ĺ´Ç±đ˛ő˛Ô’t stop there either.

He also , the World Tree, for nine whole days and nights to learn the secrets of the runes.

Neither of those experiences seem particularly enjoyable, and I’m grateful to live in the 21st century, as I can just google something I don’t know rather than mutilate myself.

However, losing an eye undoubtedly leaves more of a noticeable physical mark than being hung. I have yet to see a depiction of Odin where he still has both of his eyes.

How this missing eye is shown varies in popular culture. In American Gods, Mr. Wednesday replaces his missing eye with a glass one, while in the 2011 movie , Odin wears a shiny, space-pirate-esque eyepatch, and in the 2013 TV series , he just leaves it as a gaping hole.

Funnily enough, American Gods, Thor and Vikings all show Odin as having sacrificed his right eye.Yet, mythology »ĺ´Ç±đ˛ő˛Ô’t specify which eye Odin lost, and there’s plenty of artwork depicting Odin as missing his left eye. 

When in doubt however, if a character is missing either eye, there’s a good chance that it’s Odin. 

2. A Wednesday connection

Mr. Wednesday: What’s today?

Shadow: Wednesday.

Mr. Wednesday: Hmm, today is my day.

– American Gods, Season 1, Episode 1

Odin’s choice to adopt the alias “Mr. Wednesday” in American Gods isn’t random. While Odin is predominantly a Norse God, he was also known throughout England and Germany as “Woden”, “Wodan” or “Votan”.

The word “Wednesday” comes from the Old English word: “”, which means “Woden’s day”. The Norwegian word “Onsdag” (Wednesday) has the same root, coming from the Old Norse word “” or “Odin’s day”.

Mr. Wednesday is not the only depiction of Odin to reference the god’s connection to Wednesday. For example, in Dianna Wynne Jones’ fantasy novel , Odin goes by “Mr. Wedding” and specifically enters the story on a Wednesday.Ěý

This strategy could also be used to identify other Norse Gods in hiding, as Odin isn’t the only Æsir to have a day named after them. Tyr has a similar relationship to Tuesday, as does Thor to Thursday, and Frigg to Friday.Ěý

However, if someone enters the story on a Monday, Saturday or Sunday, then your guess is as good as mine.

3. The name game

Grimnir is one of Odin’s more well-known pseudonyms. In fact, in American Gods, Mr. Wednesday is outed as “Grimnir” long before he reveals he’s Odin. However, .Ěý

In GrĂ­mnismál (The Lay of Grimnir), he tells King Geirröth that he “hasn’t had a single name since he first began travelling among men” (einu nafni hĂ©tumk aldregi, sĂ­z ek meĂ° folkum fĂłr), and provides an extensive – yet by no means complete – , including:

Grim, Grimnir, Gangleri, Herjan, Hjalmberi, Thekk, Thrithi, Thuth, Uth, Helblindi, Hor, Sath, Svipal, Sanngetal, Herteit, Hnikar, Bileyg, Baleyg, Bolverk, – deep breath– Fjolnir, Glapsvith, Fjolsvith, Sithhott, Sithskegg, Sigfather, Hnikuth, Allfather, Valfather, Atrith, Farmatyr, Kjalar, Vithur, Oski, Biflindi, Jafnhor, Omi, Gondlir and Harbarth.

A lot of the names given to Odin in the sagas are kennings. Kennings are used a lot in Old Icelandic and Old English poetry to instead of a name. For example, a kenning for me might be “the small, angry one” (especially before my morning coffee) or “hater of liquorice”.Ěý

My favourite kenning ever has to be , which means “whale”.

Kennings for Odin range from “HangadrĂłttinn” (“Lord of the Hanged”, for obvious reasons) to “Bági ulfs” (“Enemy of the wolf” – “the wolf” here being Fenrir).

However, his most well-known kenning is “Allfather”. While Odin is by no means the father of everything, or even the father of all the Æsir, he presumably received this title for his pivotal role in creating the world.Ěý

4. The company he keeps

“Hey,” said Shadow. “Huginn or Muninn, or whoever you are.”

The bird turned, head tipped, suspiciously, on one side, and it stared at him with bright eyes.

“Say ‘Nevermore,'” said Shadow.

“F*ck you,” said the raven.”

– American Gods, Neil Gaiman

Even if Odin has gone completely incognito – maybe he’s got a really convincing glass eye and adopted the name “John” – he can still be identified by his companions.

Namely, his two ravens Huginn and Muninn (Thought and Memory), two wolves Freki and Geri (whose names both translate to “the Ravenous One”), and his eight-legged horse Sleipnir (who is actually Loki’s son). 

The ravens in particular often accompany Odin throughout popular culture. They act as both his spies and his messengers, flying all over the world before returning to him and reporting everything they have seen.

Odin might also be identified via his sons, as he’s .

In the Poetic Edda, Thor, Baldr, Vidarr and Vali are explicitly named as Odin’s sons, while the Prose Edda adds more gods to this lineage, including Höd, Bragi, Hermod, Heimdall and Tyr (although in HymiskviĂ°a, Tyr is said to be ).Ěý

Finally, as a god of war and death, Odin receives half of the souls of those who died in battle. These souls are transported to either Odin’s hall Valhalla or Freyja’s home in Fólkvangr by beautiful, female creatures called the valkyries.

While the valkyries do not serve Odin specifically, their presence means that there is a 50-50 chance of encountering Odin shortly after.

5. Conning a con man

Ian McShane, the actor who plays Mr. Wednesday, describes his character as “”. These may seem like unflattering words to describe a god – but it’s a pretty accurate description of Odin’s behaviour in Norse mythology.Ěý

Hanging himself on Yggdrasil and poking out his eye may have made Odin extremely cunning and knowledgeable, but it didn’t make him a good person. As a taster, his actions in the sagas include:

• Stealing the Mead of Poetry from Suttungr by “seducing” and subsequently abandoning Suttungr’s daughter, Gunnlöd ()
• Becoming so jealous when he hears how Freyja got the magical necklace Brisingamen that he gets Loki to steal it and refuses to give it back until she agrees to perform some ridiculous tasks for him ()
• Fathering a child (Vali) with the specific purpose of killing Höd (his son) for being tricked into killing Baldr (his other son) by Loki ()
• Tricking Fenrir into being bound simply because the Æsir got scared of how big he was getting (technically this is a group effort, but since Fenrir kills Odin in Ragnarok, it’s fair to assume that Odin plays a key part in this) ().

Odin often fixates on what he wants and stops at nothing to get it, no matter how taboo his methods.

For example, he practises seid, which is a type of magic brought to the Æsir by Freyja.

While there were male practitioners, it was considered seid due to its specific association with the feminine.Ěý

In this respect, Odin has a lot in common with his blood brother Loki, who also shows little regard for social norms, particularly in relation to gender.

However, while Loki is often ridiculed, punished and framed in a negative light, Odin seems to be immune to such judgement, and his position as chief of the Æsir goes unchallenged.

Therefore if you encounter a character that seems clever and charming, yet simultaneously tricky and untrustworthy, there’s a very high chance that it’s Odin… or Loki.

The end?

American Gods was , which ended with the apparent death of Mr. Wednesday (an event that happens about halfway through the book).

However, whether Mr. Wednesday actually is dead is left up to debate (unless you’ve read the book). :Ěý

“How do you know he’s dead? You never know anything with Wednesday. Maybe Wednesday planned the whole thing. Have you thought about that? Knowing Wednesday, that’s my question. He’s dead, but how do you know he didn’t plot it all? Everything’s coming full circle again.”

American Gods and Mr. Wednesday might have come to an end, but you can still find Odin alive and well in other Old Norse adaptations – and perhaps even other places. It’s just a matter of knowing where to look.

What do you think of Odin? Do you have a favourite book or series inspired by Norse mythology? Let us know in the comments.

The post Odin the All-Father: American Gods Edition appeared first on 51łÔąĎÍř.

In Norse mythology, the Jötnar (singular: jötunn) are a race of beings that mainly live in Jötunheimr, one of the nine worlds connected by the ash tree Yggdrasil. They’re often in conflict with the Æsir, and are key players in bringing about ¸é˛ą˛µ˛Ô˛ą°ůö°ě, the end of the world.

This means that they tend to be depicted as the Bad Guys in popular culture. For example, in Marvel’s Thor movies, they’re called “” and frequently attack Asgard, the home of the Æsir. 

However, not all Jötnar are enemies of the Æsir – some of them are allies. A lot of the Æsir even have children with Jötnar, and the majority of them have at least one Jötunn parent.

Read more: An Introduction to Norse Mythology

All of this seemingly conflicting information therefore begs the question: who are the Jötnar really? Let's find out…

What does “Jötunn” mean? 

The word “jötunn” is often translated as “giant”, and has the same linguistic origins as the English word “”, which is a name for . In the 2010 Norwegian movie Trollhunter, the biggest type of mountain troll is called “Jotnar” as an apparent reference to this interpretation of the word.

However, this »ĺ´Ç±đ˛ő˛Ô’t provide an entirely accurate picture of the Jötnar in Norse mythology, as many of them are the same size as humans. Instead, “Jötnar” seems to be used in the same way as “Æsir” or “Vanir” in that it’s , rather than as a reference to any physical trait.

Yet, it’s difficult to know exactly what the criteria are for being considered a Jötunn when, at first glance, the Jötnar appear to have very little in common with each other. 

A Jötunn by any other name

The Jötunn in the 2017 horror film is a massive, moose-like creature with eight limbs that stalks its victims through its forest home. Its worshippers refer to it as a child of Loki.

While this Jötunn is a modern creation, its monstrous appearance is in line with Loki’s other Jötunn children: an eight-legged horse named Sleipnir, a half-dead girl named Hel, a giant snake named Jörmungand, and a massive wolf named Fenrir. 

Loki and his children are the most well known Jötnar in Norse mythology and arguably the main reason that the Jötnar are still thought of as monstrous antagonists today.

In ¸é˛ą˛µ˛Ô˛ą°ůö°ě, Loki leads an army of the dead out of Hel against the Æsir, and Fenrir and Jörmungand kill Odin and Thor respectively. 

However, not all Jötnar are ugly monsters. The Jötunn Gunnlöd is described in Hávamál as a “” (good/fine/sweet woman), and the Jötunn Gerdr is so beautiful that Freyr gives up his magical sword for a chance to marry her (a choice that ultimately leads to his death at the hands of the Jötunn Surtr in ¸é˛ą˛µ˛Ô˛ą°ůö°ě). 

Read more: Creatures in Norse Mythology

Make love AND war

Freyr is not alone in taking a Jötunn as a partner. His own father Njörd marries the Jötunn Skadi (which is a marriage based entirely on the fact that she thought his feet were the prettiest). In general, when the Æsir ˛ą°ů±đ˛Ô’t fighting the Jötnar, they’re having relationships with them.

In addition, the majority of the Æsir have at least one Jötunn as a parent, including Thor, whose mother is the Jötunn Jörd, and Odin himself, whose mother is the Jötunn Bestla. 

As a rule, these unions tend to be between male Æsir or Vanir and female Jötnar (though there are exceptions, such as Loki, who has a Jötunn father and an Æsir mother).

This is because Norse mythology is patrilineal, which means that the children inherit the family lineage of their father – although again, there are exceptions to this.

The Jötnar in Norse mythology can usually be categorised into three groups:

Allies of the Æsir, e.g.

• Æ˛µľ±°ů: Husband of Ran, goddess of the sea. He frequently hosts the Æsir in his hall for feasts and drinking parties.
• Skadi: The daughter of Thjazi, she arrives at Asgard after her father is killed by the Æsir, looking for compensation. The matter is eventually settled when Loki makes her laugh and the Æsir allow her to choose a husband from one of them based on their feet. She ends up marrying Njord when she mistakes his feet for Baldr’s.
• Gerdr: A beautiful Jötun who, after much back and forth, agrees to marry the love-sick Fryr. According to Heimskringla, they have a son named Fjolnir who goes on to found the Yngling dynasty in Sweden.Ěý

Enemies of the Æsir, e.g. 

• Thrym: A Jötun king who steals Thor’s hammer Mjölnir and only agrees to return it if Freyja marries him. Thor dresses up as Freyja and goes to the wedding instead, killing Thrym as soon as he hands him Mjolnir (apparently Thor’s fiery eyes and lack of table manners weren’t enough of a giveaway).Ěý
• Thjazi: The father of Skadi who kidnaps the goddess Idun. She is saved by Loki, who uses Freyja’s cloak to change into a falcon, transforms Idun into a nut and carries her back to Asgard. Thjazi turns into an eagle and chases him, but the Æsir light fires that burn his wings and kill him when he falls to the ground.
• ´łĂ¶°ůłľłÜ˛Ô˛µ˛ą˛Ô»ĺ: Also known as “the Midgard Serpent”, as he’s big enough that he encircles the entire world. Even though he’s Loki’s son, he would be considered neutral to the Æsir if it weren’t for his long-standing eneminity with Thor. Thor kills him in ¸é˛ą˛µ˛Ô˛ą°ůö°ě but dies of his wounds soon after.
• Fenrir: Another one of Loki’s sons and a giant wolf. He initially lived among the Æsir until he grew so big that they became scared of him and tricked him into being bound (though Tyr lost a hand in the process). He kills Odin in ¸é˛ą˛µ˛Ô˛ą°ůö°ě and is then killed himself by Odin’s son, Vidar.Ěý
• Surtr: The guardian of Muspelheim and one of the more foreboding Jötunn in Norse mythology. He has a fiery sword and also fights against the Æsir in ¸é˛ą˛µ˛Ô˛ą°ůö°ě, during which he kills Freyr.Ěý

Neutral to the Æsir, e.g. 

• Hel: Loki’s only daughter. She rules over the realm of the same name in Niflheim, which is where everyone who dies of old age or sickness goes.
• Hymir: A Jötun with an unusually hard skull. He takes Thor fishing and they end up catching Jörmungand. Thor starts to pull the snake up but Hymir cuts the line, as if Thor and Jörmungand fought, they would kickstart ¸é˛ą˛µ˛Ô˛ą°ůö°ě.Ěý
• Suttungr: The father of Gunnlöd and guardian of the Mead of Poetry. He chases Odin when he steals the mead but is unable to catch him.
• łŇłÜ˛Ô˛Ô±ôö»ĺ: Suttungr’s daughter who is given the job of guarding the Mead of Poetry. She is “seduced” by Odin into drinking it, and later gives birth to their son Bragi, the god of poetry.Ěý

A Force of Nature

The Æsir are not the only ones to come from the Jötnar. Arguably, everything does. In Norse mythology, the two first beings in existence were a cow named Audhumla and a Jötunn named Ymir, whose body was used to create the universe. Without the Jötnar, nothing would exist at all.

Therefore, it’s not surprising that, for all their differences, the Jötnar are all very closely connected to nature.

Sometimes this connection is very obvious: Jörd’s name literally means “Earth”, while Ægir’s name means “Sea”. However, sometimes this connection can be seen in the role they play: Hel rules over the dead, a natural consequence of life, while Jörmungand encircles the world, thereby holding it together.

This connection to nature also explains why some Jötnar are beautiful allies and some are monstrous enemies. At the time of the Vikings, people were wholly dependent on nature being good to them in order to survive. If nature didn’t treat them well, for example if there was a bad harvest or a massive storm at sea, the consequences could be fatal.

While Jötunheimr and the Jötnar do not exist, you can always go for a hike in Jotunheimen National Park and experience breathtaking landscapes that are truly worthy of the giants.

What do you think about the Jötnar? Which Old Norse myth would you like us to tackle next? Let us know.

The post Who are the Jötnar in Norse Mythology? appeared first on 51łÔąĎÍř.

Janteloven is a satirical set of ‘rules' for Scandinavian society that were created in the 1930s. After almost ninety years, we’ve given them an update.

Janteloven (the law of Jante) is an unspoken social code that dictates how people interact with each other.

A social code of sorts

It was initially devised by a man named Aksel Sandemose as a satirical criticism of Danish society, but can easily be applied to all three Scandinavian countries. The law is made up of ten rules:

1. You’re not to think you are anything special
2. You’re not to think you are as good as we are
3. You’re not to think you are smarter than we are
4. You're not to convince yourself that you are better than we are
5. You're not to think you know more than we do
6. You're not to think you are more important than we are
7. You're not to think you are good at anything
8. You're not to laugh at us
9. You're not to think anyone cares about you
10. You're not to think you can teach us anything

Arguably, these ten original rules are just as relevant as they were when they were first written in the 1930s.

Read more: A personal experience of Janteloven

However, after ninety years, we thought they deserved an update, and I leapt at the challenge. Here are eight new rules for Janteloven in Norwegian society today.

1. You must not buy a fossil-fuelled car

We all know by now that climate change presents a very real threat to both the planet and humanity. We also know that one of the ways we can combat climate change is by swapping out fossil fuels (such as oil, gas and coal) for renewable alternatives (such as solar, hydro and wind power).

So far, Norway has resisted calls to stop or reduce its oil and gas production. However, it comes to electric cars, they’re well ahead of the game.

In 2020, 54% of all new cars sold in Norway were electric, making it the first country in the world where .

Currently, more than 12% of all cars in Norway are electric, and that number is only set to increase in accordance with the government’s current plan to reduce the country’s emissions by 40%, and specifically that “all new passenger cars and light vans sold should be zero-emission by 2025”.

This change has mainly been achieved through a number of incentives, such as “”, wherein municipalities may only charge electric car users a maximum of 50% of costs related to parking, tolls and ferries compared to petrol and diesel car users.

In terms of the climate, this is undeniably a positive development as electric cars , and in Oslo alone, road traffic is responsible for half of the city’s greenhouse gas emissions.

However, electric cars have become a bit of a contentious issue in the districts compared to the cities.

For example, on my last visit to the North, my partner’s mother and aunt both expressed their fear that the Norwegian Green Party (Miljøpartiet De Grønne) and other supporters of electric cars were trying to stop them from driving all together.

While this particular concern is unfounded, there is a general feeling of skepticism towards electric cars in more rural areas generally due to their insufficient ranges and .

These concerns, while completely valid, are not unfixable, and cars are already becoming and more charging stations are being installed. Therefore, it’s entirely likely that Norway will exceed its zero-emission goals (although the question still remains of how much good replacing petrol and diesel cars with electric ones does if you’re also to sell to the rest of the world…).

2. You must not laugh at us (but we can laugh at ourselves)

Having lived abroad for a few years now, it seems that one of the things that the British are most known for outside the UK, aside from drinking tea, eating fish and chips, and complaining about the weather, is our .Ěý

While not all culture stereotypes are true for everyone (for example, I hate tea), I have to admit that British people do mock everything. We mock the things we hate. We mock the things we love. And, more importantly, we don’t mind when non-British people mock British people either.

Arguably, this is more of a survival tactic than a sign of security in ourselves as a nation, as our country seems determined to continuously embarrass itself on a global scale, from to . Yet, for whatever reason, we are well-versed in the art of self-deprecation.

Norwegians on the other hand ˛ą°ů±đ˛Ô’t quite as comfortable with this yet. 

This isn’t to say that they don’t laugh at themselves, nor that they never do anything worth laughing at – like when leader of the Norwegian Progress Party (Fremskrittspartiet) Sylvi Listhaug before being rescued, in an attempt to understand what it’s like being a refugee. This was both obviously ridiculous and objectively hilarious, and Norwegians were quick to (rightly) roast her.Ěý

My favourite response is , which says “Next week: Sylvi Listhaug experiences the daily life of a visually impaired person by closing her eyes.”

However, if a non-Norwegian person were to join in with laughing at something Norwegian, the tone shifts abruptly. All laughter instantly ceases and a tense silence prevails until the Norwegian coughs and says something like “Yes… well…” before launching into a clumsy defence of the thing they were just laughing about. 

As a British person, this has been a particularly jarring cultural divide to experience, particularly as trading insults is a type of love language back home. However, this cultural difference has not only been a surprise to Brits. Lorelou Desjardins, a French woman living in Oslo who runs the extremely popular blog “A Frog in the Fjord”, :

“Strangely enough a lot of readers laugh only when I make fun of non-Norwegians,and become very sensitive when I use irony against Norwegians. The time I wrote about strange things Norwegians do during meetings or about unclear Norwegian women, my texts were criticized, with packs of brunost thrown at my face for saying such bad things about this great country.”

Listen: A Frog in the Fjord – One Year in Norway

The unspoken rule appears to be that only Norwegians understand Norway enough to be allowed to laugh at it. It »ĺ´Ç±đ˛ő˛Ô’t matter if you live in Norway, pay taxes in Norway, and conform to Norwegian social rules, if you’re not Norwegian, you are simply not able to laugh at Norway.

Though, to be honest, how much do you have to understand to find this hilarious?

3. You must speak English to foreigners learning Norwegian

In September 2020, Torbjørn Røe Isaksen, the Norwegian Minister of Labour and Social Inclusion at the time, proposed adding Norwegian classes to the “aktivitetsplikten”, which are activities you must participate in to receive social welfare.

This suggestion was motivated by the fact that .

“If poor Norwegian skills are a reason that you’re struggling to get a job, we now want to make Norwegian classes part of the activity obligation for those under 30. This will also improve integration and equip more people for working life.”

Setting aside all the reasons why this demonstrates that Isaksen has the same understanding of the reasons that immigrants struggle to find work in Norway as a goldfish in a bowl does of the ocean, I find this proposition absolutely hilarious because do you know how hard it is to get a Norwegian to speak to you in Norwegian if they suspect that you’re foreign?

Read more: The Challenge of Learning Norwegian

When I first visited Norway about six years ago, I was two years into my Norwegian studies. However, it was very easy to tell from my accent that I was not Norwegian.

This meant that even if I spoke Norwegian to someone, they’d quite often reply in English. Or, if we were speaking in Norwegian, they’d switch to English at the first hint that I didn’t understand something perfectly. This is despite the fact that they had no way of knowing whether I even spoke English – they just assumed I could.

This quite often resulted in the absolute farce of me stubbornly continuing to speak to them in my accented, stunted Norwegian, and them insisting on replying in their less stunted yet still accented English.

Six years later, and this »ĺ´Ç±đ˛ő˛Ô’t happen to me anymore – unless I’m out with my English-speaking friends. Even if we all can speak Norwegian (and do speak Norwegian to the people outside of our group), as soon as a Norwegian hears English, that’s it. It’s like a language switch is flipped in their brain and no amount of fancy dialectal words or convincing skarre will flip it back.

I appreciate that this isn’t done maliciously. Some Norwegians may simply enjoy speaking English, in the same way that I enjoy speaking Norwegian. They may also just be trying to be helpful if they see someone is struggling.

It also isn’t all Norwegians; my partner’s northern relatives seemed relieved when they realised I speak Norwegian and are extremely patient with me, even on those days where my brain’s struggling to formulate sentences in English.

But in all honesty, do you know who I spoke the most Norwegian with when I was a student in Oslo? Immigrants like me.

4. You must not step outside the cultural order

Norwegians are often accused of being cold or rude by foreigners. As Kristen Rygg, associate professor at the Norwegian School of Economics (NHH), pointed out, this isn’t an entirely fair accusation, as there “are no universal standards for politeness.”

Norwegians can be perceived as “cold” by outsiders, just as Brits can be perceived as “two-faced” and Americans as “insincere”. Yet, people born into these cultures do not share these perceptions, as they understand the social rules and act in accordance with them.

That said, the Norwegian social rules are pretty strict.

In 2011, a study was published on .

According to the study, a tight culture has “strong norms and a low tolerance of deviant behaviour”, while a loose culture has “weak norms and a high tolerance of deviant behaviour” (“deviant” here simply refers to actions stepping outside of the established norms, rather than anything nefarious).

The study gave Norway a score of 9.5, making it a relatively tight culture. For context, other tight countries included Pakistan (12.3), India (11), Singapore (10.4), South Korea (10), Japan (8.6) and China (7.9). Looser cultures included Ukraine (1.6), Estonia (2.6), Hungary (2.9), Israel (3.1), the Netherlands (3.3) and Brazil (3.5). The United States scored 5.1 while the UK scored 6.9.

There are a lot of factors that contribute to a country’s tightness-looseness score, and it’s important to understand that . There are advantages and disadvantages associated with both, and those advantages and disadvantages can differ from culture to culture.

That said, it might still surprise some people that Norway scored closer to South Korea and Japan in tightness than its European neighbours. On the other hand, if you know about Janteloven – or if you’ve ever accidentally sat too close to a Norwegian at a bus stop – this result won’t seem too surprising at all.

However, as Rygg also pointed out, one of the staples of Norwegian politeness is not unnecessarily bothering other people. Therefore, a Norwegian is unlikely to confront you even if you are behaving “deviantly”. So, how is this tight culture enforced?

The answer: through the heavy, heavy weight of collective silent disapproval and judgement from the people around you.

While this sounds very severe, it’s not always a bad thing. For example, reported that, despite drinking more than Americans, Norwegians were much less likely to drive drunk than Americans – and part of this could be due to the social pressure:

“Norwegians also almost showed a universal moral disapproval of drinking after consuming as many as four drinks and they were more likely than Americans to believe that their peers would also disapprove.”

Then again, this pressure also means that if we need to quickly pop to our nearest corner shop in the evening, I have to watch my partner go through about four outfit changes before he feels he’s dressed in a way that will be deemed acceptable by any Norwegian that may see him.

5. You must be technologically literate

If, like me, you have a partner who works in IT, then chances are that throughout the course of the relationship, you’ll have been introduced to more apps and gadgets than you ever thought possible to even exist.

However, in Norway, this love of technology is no longer solely restricted to IT enthusiasts. As usability has increased and prices have decreased, Norwegians as a whole have developed a weakness for expensive tech (which seems strange when you consider that these are the same people who won’t think twice about travelling to a completely different country just to buy cheaper groceries).

In 2019, approximately NOK 34.44 billion worth of electronics were sold in Norway, which includes mobile phones, smart watches, and increasingly large TVs. Also in 2019, Norway had , one of the highest in the world.

According to , this number had risen to 99% as of January 2021.

Read more: From Keychains to Smartphones: Raising Independent Children in the Age of Technology

Given this information, it’s hardly surprising that Norwegians adapted relatively well to remote working when the country shut down due to COVID-19. A lot of Norwegian workplaces already had arrangements for “home office” in place before the pandemic struck, and to make the adjustment as smooth as possible.

This »ĺ´Ç±đ˛ő˛Ô’t mean that Norwegians didn’t struggle in the pandemic – either or . Just that their willingness to embrace new technology was not a disadvantage when the country was put into lockdown.

While I don’t think I necessarily would use half the technology I do if I didn’t live in Norway, I can’t say that it »ĺ´Ç±đ˛ő˛Ô’t benefit my life.

All my bills are electronic, as are any prescriptions, and if I need to get somewhere in a hurry, I can just jump on an electric scooter that I unlock with an app (although I’m not exactly thrilled whenever I get into bed and ask Google to turn off the lights and it decides to do the exact opposite and blind me with the full force of the sun).

However, technology appears to be moving so quickly in Norway that not everyone is able to keep up. The elderly in particular are less likely to be technologically adept than the younger generations.

This isn’t too big of an issue when it comes to personal preference, such as deciding between a fridge that keeps your food cold and a fridge that keeps your food cold but also can tell you the weather in sixteen different countries. But it is more of a concern when it comes to public services and care.

For example, , as they were asked to register digitally using their Bank ID (among other things).

In comparison, the UK government sent everyone a letter by post and gave people the option of booking their vaccine online or by telephone, which resulted in a much quicker vaccine uptake.

Overall, I’m in favour of these technological developments, and I don’t think elderly people are incapable of using technology. Last year, my 89-year-old grandma made a Facebook account for the first time, and it’s been lovely to video chat with her forehead as she looks down at her iPad screen.

However, Norway also seems prone to jumping the gun when it comes to implementing technological innovations without a sufficient transitionary period from the previous systems.

6. You must not pay in cash

The other day, I was in my local REMA 1000, standing the recommended metre away from the person in front of me as we queued for the checkout.

The person in front of me was taking a little longer to pay than expected for their few items, and when I actually took notice of what was happening, it was easy to see why: they were paying in cash.

It was only then that I realised that I couldn’t actually pinpoint the last time I had paid in cash – or even seen an ATM. I’ve had a Norwegian bank account since 2018, so it must’ve been before then – and I remember it being a hassle trying to track down an ATM even then.

Along with the other Nordic countries, Norway is swiftly .

According to a 2019 report from Deloitte, cash made up a mere 2.5% of the total money supply in Norway and Sweden, and “Norwegians on average only withdrew cash from ATMs 8 times per year” – numbers which have probably only decreased in the time since that report was published.

(Side note: I have no idea where this magical ATM that the Norwegians are withdrawing cash from is, but I can imagine that there is only one and that it appears at the end of the rainbow, like a pot of black gold).

Cash in Norway took a particular hit in 2015, when its share of money supply plummeted by 48% following the launch of Vipps, which is a mobile payment app that connects directly to your bank account.

While you can use Vipps to perform ordinary transactions, such as buying metro tickets or paying bills, it’s most commonly used for “peer to peer” transactions – i.e. sending money to other people.

In fact, a survey conducted by Norges Bank reported that 58% of peer-to-peer payments from 2017 to 2018 were made using phones – something that apps like Vipps have no doubt contributed to.

So far, Vipps only works with Norwegian bank accounts (though the app can be used for accounts with most Norwegian banks), and it’s insanely useful.

The only potential downside is that since it connects to your bank account, it displays your full name when transferring funds – which has led to the slightly surreal occasions of being greeted by my friends with an accusatory “Your middle name is RUTH?!” as if it was some family secret I was guarding with my life.

However, if you don’t have a Norwegian bank account – or your middle name really is a family secret – you don’t need to worry: Norges Bank also reported that debit and credit cards made up 86% of payment methods in Norway in 2017, while cash made up 11% and smartphones made up 2%.

Deloitte also noted that debit and credit cards are the preferred payment method in Norway and Denmark, and Norway has an almost excessive 3.1 bank cards per capita.

Personally, the transition to working cashless was so seamless that I wasn’t even consciously aware that it was happening. Thinking about it now, I don’t miss using cash at all – although I am far more likely to spend a lot more money in a lot less time when I pay with a card than with cash.

No wonder my partner guffawed for a good few minutes when he found out that my English bank still sends me a checkbook (and yes, that I still pay for things with it when I’m in the UK).

7. You must buy over rent

Did you know that not only do Norwegians move out of their family home at a younger age than their European peers, but people also buy property much earlier in Norway than in other European countries – including their Nordic neighbours?

Does that also seem extremely unfair when the thought of the housing market in your home country sends you spiralling into a pit of anxiety and despair (or is that just me)?

Norway’s strong tradition of buying over renting isn’t mere fluke either. There are for young Norwegians to grab hold of that fabled first rung of the property ladder, including a high minimum wage, accessibility of education, and a thriving job market.

Even though the number of young people buying houses has generally declined across Europe in recent years, this dip has been less significant in Norway. For example, between 1996 and 2016, the proportion of UK homeowners aged between 25 and 34 dropped from 55% to 34%.

Compare this to Norway in 2016, .

, in 2019, 48,526 people in Norway bought their first property, the highest number since 2015, and first-time buyers represented 3.4% of total buyers, the highest proportion since 2012. The average age of these first-time buyers in big Norwegian cities is between 26 and 29, and around 28.8 in Oslo.

All this paints the picture of Norway as some sort of housing utopia for millennials, and I’m sure it would be…

… if only the housing prices weren’t rising with the uncontrollable enthusiasm of a helium balloon escaping the sticky clutches of a small child.

Rising house prices have been in Norway. Despite the record-number of first-time buyers in 2019, compared to the previous year (the highest growth being in Oslo, where prices rose by 3.9%).

You may ask then how young people can still afford property – and they answer is they can’t, so they get help from their parents. showed that 5 out of 10 first-time buyers under 35 received financial assistance from their family, mainly in the form of financial contributions (inheritance or monetary gifts) or acting as a guarantor on the mortgage.

While there’s no reason that parents ˛őłó´ÇłÜ±ô»ĺ˛Ô’t help their children buy property if they’re able, it ˛őłó´ÇłÜ±ô»ĺ˛Ô’t become a prerequisite, as not everyone has parents who are able to do so.

I often hear people say that rent is just “money out of the window”. I understand what they mean, but considering that mortgages are currently “out of the realm of possibility”, I think I’m going to be renting for a little while longer yet.

8. You must not pick the cloudberries

One of the most important aspects of Norwegian culture is friluftsliv or the outdoors lifestyle.

To ensure that everyone has access to nature, Norwegians have “the right to roam” (‘allmennsretten'), which became a legal right in 1957 with the adoption of the Norwegian Outdoor Recreations Act (Friluftsloven).

The law enables people to go wherever they want, stay anywhere they want for one night (except for in the mountains or national parks, where they can stay for longer), and forage food, such as mushrooms or berries.ĚýExcept for cloudberries.Ěý

Cloudberries are small, juicy berries that resemble orange blackberries. They only grow in certain environments, and can therefore be pretty expensive to buy at the supermarket. 

They’re most common in northern Norway, but before you head up there for some easy pickings, you should know that it’s not quite as simple as that.

In 1854, Nordland, Troms and Finnmark passed a law that enabled people to . These areas are clearly signposted so there’s no danger of accidentally eating someone’s cloudberries.

In Finnmark, anyone can pick cloudberries on public land to eat immediately. However, if you want to take them home later and you ˛ą°ů±đ˛Ô’t a resident of Finnmark, you’ll have to apply for a permit. It is also illegal to pick unripe cloudberries throughout the entire country.

Admittedly, this last rule is different from the seven other suggestions for a new Jantelov, as it’s an actual law. However, in my opinion, it’s also an excellent example of Norwegian society as a whole.

Norwegians enjoy good lives with a great deal of opportunities and support. However, in order for this system to exist, there’s a common understanding that we have responsibilities as well as privileges, and that we can’t just always take anything we want.

In fact, I think it could make an excellent idiom: slow and steady wins the race. Actions speak louder than words. Don’t eat the cloudberries.

What do you think of our suggestions for a modern take on janteloven? Do you have any suggestions of your own? Let us know!

The post Janteloven 2.0: The Law of Jante for the Modern Age appeared first on 51łÔąĎÍř.

As the world mourns the death of Queen Elizabeth II, we take a look back at one of our most popular articles from last year: an in-depth look at the complicated relationships between the British and Scandinavian Royals.

Hit TV shows like The Crown and Atlantic Crossing have thrust Royal Families into popular culture arguably like never before. But the truth of these families is often stranger than fiction!

Death comes to Buckingham Palace

On 9 April 2021, the BBC interrupted its scheduled programming to announce that Queen Elizabeth’s husband, Prince Philip, had died, just a couple months shy of his 100th birthday.

While the BBC were the first to report his death, they were certainly not the last, and the story was picked up by news stations all around the world.

As a British person, I almost drowned in the sheer number of articles that flooded my newsfeed about royal funeral protocol, what this meant for the Queen, and – ridiculously of course – .

Naturally, condolences were sent from other European royal families – but these were .

The messages from the Swedish and Danish royals in particular emphasised their own family ties to Philip, who was a Prince of Greece and Denmark, and once even said that he , “particularly, Danish”.

This British-Scandinavian connection didn’t particularly surprise me; I’ve always known that the royals are all related somehow.

However, it was only as I did more research, and a headache started to grow along with the number of tabs open on my browser, that I realised that these families are far more connected than I had realised… and in multiple ways.

So, if you’ve ever wondered exactly how the British and Scandinavian monarchs are related, then make yourself a cup of tea and grab a pen and paper – you’re going to need them.

Keep it in the family

Before we get into the intricacies of who’s related to who, here’s a quick rundown of the current monarchies operating in Europe. 

The majority of European countries are now , having deposed, exiled or executed their royals at some point before and during the 20th century (the French seem to enjoy the process so much that they’ve become a republic ). 

Currently, there are only twelve European monarchs left in existence, only seven of which are the heads of “kingdoms”: 

• Queen Elizabeth II of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland
• King Harald V of Norway
• King Carl XVI Gustaf of Sweden
• King Felipe VI of Spain
• King Phillippe of Belgium
• King Willem-Alexander of the Netherlands

All of these royal families have two main things in common. The first thing is that they all operate as . This means that they share power with an elected government, and the power they do have is more symbolic or traditional in nature and has very little impact on how the country is actually run. 

The second thing is each other. The European monarchies are often represented on their coat of arms by noble animals, such as lions, eagles, or – in Scotland’s case – unicorns. However, in many ways, I think the pug is much more appropriate, as they’re also inbred to the point that I’m not exactly sure why anyone thought it was a good idea. 

Read more: The Royal Family of Norway

Naturally, the . It’ll probably surprise no one that the Scandinavian royals are extremely close, and that the Crown Princes and Princess even have group video calls – almost like any other family separated during this pandemic (almost).

However, what did surprise me is that the British royals are just as intertwined with the Scandinavians as they are with each other – and not only through Prince Philip. In fact, (though admittedly that line is getting longer and longer every year). 

While Scandinavia and the UK have a long history of shared monarchies, their current close ties can be attributed to two key figures: Queen Victoria I of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland* (*at the time) and King Christian IX of Denmark (who were third cousins themselves).

The Grandmother of Europe

Queen Victoria is often referred to as “”, as she had nine children who all married into key positions in other European royal families. Incidentally, she was also .

Out of the seven European monarchs listed above, , and three of her nine children became the great-grandparents of the current reigning monarchs of the UK, Denmark, Norway and Sweden (as of May 2021).

Via Queen Victoria’s bloodline: 

• Queen Elizabeth and King Harald are second cousins, which means that King Harald is Queen Elizabeth’s closest related monarch
• King Carl Gustaf’s parents were second cousins. This means that: 
  • King Carl Gustaf and Queen Margrethe are both cousins and third cousins
  • King Carl Gustaf and Queen Elizabeth are third cousins twice over, as are King Carl Gustaf and King Harald 
• Queen Elizabeth and Queen Margrethe are third cousins 
• Queen Margrethe and King Harald are third cousins

Prince Philip was also one of Queen Victoria’s great great grandsons via her daughter Alice. This makes him a third cousin of King Harald, Queen Margrethe, Carl Gustaf, and Queen Elizabeth, the latter also being his wife.

The Grandfather of Scandinavia

Technically, King Christian’s nickname is “”.

However, given that the majority of European royal families that his children married into are no longer operating monarchies, and given that he’s almost as related to the current Scandinavian and British royals as Queen Victoria is, I think “Grandfather of Scandinavia” is more appropriate.

Of Christian’s six children, two of them became the great-grandparents of the current reigning monarchs of the UK, Denmark, Norway and Sweden (as of May 2021).

Via King Christian’s bloodline: 

• Queen Elizabeth and Queen Margrethe are third cousins
• King Harald’s grandparents were cousins. This means that: 
  • King Harald and Queen Elizabeth are both second cousins and third cousins, as are King Harald and Queen Margrethe 

While King Carl Gustaf »ĺ´Ç±đ˛ő˛Ô’t appear on this side of the family tree, Prince Philip does. Via King Christian’s son George, he is the second cousin once removed of King Harald, Queen Margrethe, as well as Queen Elizabeth (again, his wife).

Blue blood?

In 2018, the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge paid a visit to Norway and Sweden. In his speech welcoming them to Norway, King Harald said: 

“The Queen and I are delighted to welcome you on your first official visit to Norway. You are family and that makes the visit very special for the queen and me, and for all of us.”

While there are a lot of cultural differences between Scandinavia and the UK (and between the Scandinavian countries, for that matter), there is also a lot of shared history, and in many ways, the relationship between our royal families is an excellent representation of this. 

We often describe royals and aristocracy as having “”, which distinguishes them from the rest of us red-blooded commoners. Of course, we realise that this is just an expression, and that all humans bleed the same, regardless of status. 

That said, if the royals do have different blood from us, it’s probably due to .

Have you ever met a Scandinavian royal? Is there a member of the royal family you particularly admire? Let us know!

The post One Big Royal Family: The British and Scandinavian Royals appeared first on 51łÔąĎÍř.