Seattle has a multitude of fascinating museums, and since I haven’t been able to accomplish long-distance physical travel lately, I have been taking advantage of a museum pass to mentally travel not only to distant locales but to other times by visiting venues such as the Seattle Art Museum, the Wing Luke Museum in Chinatown, the Klondike Museum in downtown’s Pioneer Square, the Museum of Flight, the Museum of Popular Culture, formerly known as the Experience Music Project and Science Fiction Museum and Hall of Fame, and others. Last weekend I decided to venture into the Ballard district to check out the National Nordic Museum.

In the past, Seattle has welcomed a large number of immigrants from the Nordic lands of Sweden, Norway, Finland, Denmark, Iceland, the Faroe Islands, and Greenland. In particular, these newcomers brought their skills into burgeoning Pacific Northwest industries such as logging and fishing. In fact, the ancestors on my father’s side are mainly Danish, so I have a personal stake in this heritage.

As usual, I planned my Saturday morning bus trip so that I would arrive when the museum opened. That way, I supposed, as in other museums, I would have the place almost to myself. I was astonished, therefore, as the bus passed by the museum to pull up to its stop, to see a blocks-long line of hundreds of people waiting to get in. I guess I hadn’t studied its website closely enough, for it turns out that every year on the weekend before Thanksgiving, the museum hosts its Christmas celebration known as Julefest. I almost gave up and decided to leave and return on another day, but an attendant at the gate assured me that once the admissions desk opened, the line would clear rapidly. So I walked and walked and walked and walked to the end of the line of cheery people, most of them looking quite Nordic, and waited my turn.

It was as the man had said: the line moved quickly. Most people had purchased their tickets online and after a swift scan walked right in. However, when I reached the pay-on-the-spot table, the cashier informed me that my museum pass wasn’t valid for the festival. I explained that I hadn’t come for the celebration but only to peruse the museum’s exhibits, and that I would come back another time. She then, with a wave of her hand, said, “Oh, just go in! Go in!”

So there I was in the vast interior of the National Nordic Museum. The Julefest celebration’s offerings of food, drink, entertainment, and high-priced handicrafts were all on the ground floor. When I ascended the stairs to the permanent exhibits, I found that they were sparsely populated; most people had remained downstairs to enjoy the festivities. One corner of the upstairs was set up as Santa’s toyshop for the kids, and I gave that a pass. As for the rest, I was able to contemplate the historic Pacific Northwest Nordic experience at my leisure. The items on display depicted regional Nordic history from thousands of years ago up to the present. As usual on my museum visits, I became fatigued before I was able to absorb everything.

Back downstairs, I discovered that an abundance of merchants had set up stalls in the alley behind the building and were selling their wares to an eager crowd. Available munchies included seafood, hot dogs, meatballs, popcorn, candy, and chocolates. Other stalls sold artwork, glasswork, clothing, candles, wine, hard liquor, and many other items. I hadn’t come there to shop, of course, but it was fascinating to watch the festival attendees crowding into the various makeshift shops.

All in all, during my visit to the National Nordic Museum I got much more than I had expected. You never know what you might come across when you venture forth into the unknown.