Edvard Munch, the troubled genius who gave us The Scream, an artist who made a living out of his own anxiety, actually spent much of his time in the tranquil coastal paradise of Åsgårdstrand. A steep town carved into Norway’s southern shore, it’s still the stuff of love affairs.
Like Munch, I was seduced by its timber cabins, intoxicating gardens and tangible history. Mermaid figureheads from old ships now cling to people’s front porches, unmanned fruit stalls invite customers to pay into a trust box, bicycles lean up against walls, doors are left open. There is a potent sense of the past here, of a time when life was simpler. Åsgårdstrand is non-conformist, artistic and resilient. It has meandered through the years, but never been tempted to catch up with the rest of the world.
Munch could barely afford this simple fisherman’s cabin when he bought it in 1897, but escaped to the rat-infested hut as often as he could. Today, the house is exactly as it was when he lived here (though perhaps without the rats).
It’s popular with visitors in the summer, but it’s nothing like the tourist mecca of the Munch Museum in Oslo. It’s an unassuming two-roomed shack at the side of the road, but gaze out from the back steps and the dazzling blue almost swallows you whole. The water in this place is something otherworldly, a sparkling expanse of fjord that drives you to a breathtaking silence.
Not all Munch’s paintings were disturbing. In fact, many of his motifs from Åsgårdstrand are as sublime as the scenery that surrounded him. Perhaps this humble cabin, the only place he ever called home, brought him some much-needed serenity.
• munchshus.no, open May-September
Lisa Strømme’s novel The Strawberry Girl, based on The Scream, is out next week (Chatto & Windus, £12.99). To order a copy for £10.39 including UK p&p visit the guardian bookshop or call on 0330 333 6846
This piece was amended on 31 March 2016. The phrase “tourist mecca” was wrongly changed to “tourist trap” in editing. This has now neen corrected.