These Remote Norwegian Islands Have An Unusual Smell. It’s Money.
Our RIB slices through Trollfjorden towards Svolvær, the scenic capital of the Lofoten Islands. Twelve of us instinctively lean left—as if we have some control over the heeling boat. The narrow fjord’s steep-sided, jagged mountains rise dramatically from the sea. The water swirling beneath me is a shade of blue I’ve never seen. Overhead, the sea eagles we met earlier turn back towards Raftsundet strait, realizing their midday snack is officially over. The trolls remain hidden. As we get closer to the harbor, a stench...
