Kviar

Kviar

Kviar

The boat's motor fades to a gentle humming idle as it approaches the abandoned farmhouse. Kviar looms rather eerily atop an embankment of overhanging cornices. Yet the placement of the house at the end of the valley allows northerly winds to carve a wake between snowy drifts down to the shoreline, beckoning forth voyagers from the sea. Her paint has long since peeled away to the wind. Shutters creak. Whistles through windows and frosted patterns frozen on cold nights create a muted beauty nonetheless. Awakened from the deep slumber of winter to the epoch of a spring thaw, the crackling of the woodstove breathes a bit of life and warmth into weathered stonewalls. Floorboards shift and sigh under the presence of newly arrived occupants - a group of venturing skiers dressed in micro-puff down jackets and Gortex. 

Kviar

 

The house was built in 1923 by a family that wanted to make use of the starkly beautiful landscape. They lived well off of fishing, small scale animal husbandry and an inventiveness that provided small luxuries, such as two small wind turbines servicing electricity in the house and a small hydropower dam in the nearby river. Today, Borea uses the house as a base for skiing, kayaking, hiking and wildlife viewing in the Hornstrandir Nature Reserve, offering an experience of Kviar that tells of a small glimpse into the realities of farm life. Groups collect water where the snow-melted stream meets the salt of the fjords and gather round the dinner table late into the night with the accompany of a flickering fire-stove. Sometimes the wind howls relentlessly and the floorboards often release pockets of dust on top the cook’s head in the basement kitchen. But one can’t help but feel a sense of magic; for the curious duo of scavenging foxes printing their tracks in melting snow, the flight of Eider ducks and swans gracing the waters surface and the playful seal who hangs outside just off shore. Everything begins to become lost in a sense of timelessness. And though the occupants and purposes of those at Kviar fade with every era, the idyllic imperfections of the abandoned farmhouse endure the mission to pioneer the vacated lands of an ever-changing, yet eternal frontier.

Words by Keree Smith