HAUGESUND (Norway), Aug 9 — There is something Wodehousian about the clear blue skies, nary a cloud in sight, and the rolling greens.

One half expects a monocle-wearing gentleman or a golf enthusiast to materialise around the corner, possibly with an exasperated valet in pursuit. But this isn’t England of a more innocent age; this is Norway where centuries earlier Vikings reigned and ravaged.

Therein lies the appeal of Haugesund, seemingly a tiny city and municipality in Western Norway.

At 73 square kilometres, it is one of the smallest in the country yet behind its placid appearance is a roaring heart — a long history of legends and berserker lords.

We first visit Avaldsnes Church, about 10 minutes by car to the south. There are countless churches in Europe — in fact, one could join a guided tour of churches designed from either an architectural or religious perspective — and Norway is no exception.

Mary’s Needle lean towards one of the walls of Avaldsnes Church (left) where Viking markings can be observed (right)

Behind its early Gothic facade, we discover that this is no ordinary parish church.

Formally known as St. Olav’s Church, it was originally erected by King Håkon Håkonsson around 1250 A.D. as part of the royal farm on Avaldsnes.

Look closely to the stonework of its walls, now weather-worn with storms and sun, and you can still see markings from a time before Christianity came to this land.

Mere scratches at first then they reveal themselves to be runes, Viking language. A breath of life from those whose time has passed.

Except, as my Norwegian friend tells me, there is probably some Viking blood in many of his countrymen till today, himself included.

I observe his blonde locks, his farmer arms that could have wielded axes for raids in another life, and the twinkle in his eyes that promised a full horn of mead, and I believe him.

The Statue of Liberty in New York is clad in copper mined in Visnes, where a replica of the statue stands

Perhaps it’s because I have read too many tales of Norse mythology, of violent gods and godlike Valkyries, from Edith Hamilton to Neil Gaiman, but I find this knowledge strangely comforting.

We walk around one side of the church and come upon the infamous Jomfru Marias synål ("the Virgin Mary’s Sewing Needle”).

The 7.2-metre stone pillar, one of the tallest in Norway, leans towards the church wall but doesn’t quite touch it. There is but 9.2 centimetres left separating the two.

Legend has it the end of the world is nigh when the stone column touches the church wall. Rather a calamity if one believes in the prophecy but the Norwegians are a pragmatic lot.

The priests have just been shrugging off any apocalypse (or Ragnarök, as it were), solving the problem by chipping away bits of Mary’s Needle whenever it needed a trim. A little off the top, so to speak.

This land is suffused with humour, even if it’s gallows humour.

Norwegians know how to enjoy the pleasures of their coastal waters

It’s all very charming and full of hygge, which we are reminded is a Norwegian word too, not just Danish.

Derived from the Old Norse, hygge in Norway evokes feelings of cosiness, comfort and contentment. As we travel across Haugesund, we can’t help but wonder if this was part of its natural magic?

Our next stop is Visnes, a former mining town where rich deposits of copper ore was first discovered by a herring fisherman in 1865.

The town also has its own Statue of Liberty. For half a minute, it feels as though we are in the wrong movie. New York City instead of Haugesund, Liberty Island instead of Visnes.

But there Lady Liberty stands, albeit a smaller replica. But why?

Goats grazing (left) and lounging on the beach (right)

The answer is copper. The Statue of Liberty in New York is clad in copper, of course, and that copper came from the mines of Visnes, which generated 70 per cent of Norway’s copper export at the time.

The Vikings of yore prized freedom in unforgiving times, so perhaps it’s fitting that their descendants have contributed in their own way to a shining symbol of liberty in the Western world.

What impresses one as out of the place initially transcends kitsch to something truly moving. Nothing lasts forever but some ideals are preserving in stone... or copper, for that matter.

Then it’s off to the beach. Much of Norway is surrounded by water. Sea, lakes, fjords — this is a nation that is familiar with water.

The coastal waters have been a source of life and livelihood for generations — fishing herring used to be a major industry here.

Today the beaches — from Sandvesanden, rich with indigenous vegetation, to Mjølhussanden, beloved for surfing – are a playground for families.

Burst of sunset through the trees

​The adults play volleyball, the younger ones build sandcastles. Everyone goes for a dip. Goats graze amongst the thick shrubbery. It all feels so cosy.

Soon the sun sets, one final burst of dying light through a grove of trees.

This, my Norwegian friend explains, is what feels like hygge to him. Not a culturally appropriated catchphrase to sell overpriced rugs and scented candles for a hygge-fied home but a real home.

The sense of comfort one gets from seeing familiar sights, be it a church that dreams of Viking days or a beach where families young and old can swim and play.

P.G. Wodehouse would approve; though he might not have heard of the word, there’s probably no better practitioner with a ready wink. Hygge is home too, I realise, wherever we go, so long as we are with the ones we love, so long as we make our home together.