Stuart Nicholson climbs aboard the stopping service to Kongsberg, where Norwegian jazz musicians are starting to eclipse the stars who inspired them

Of all the English-language programmes shown on Norwegian television, I wouldn't mind betting that Ground Force, the BBC's garden-makeover show, goes down like a lead balloon. Take the back gardens you see during the two-hour train journey from Oslo to Kongsberg. There's nothing more ambitious than a couple of scrawny roses in any of them. All neatly mown, but it would take more than Charlie Dimmock to stimulate Norwegian green fingers. But then who needs herbaceous borders and decking when you've got spectacular mountains dominating your vista?

Taking in the sights as the train winds up the valley of the picturesque River Lagen is an unexpected bonus on a journey to discover a bit more about the much-touted Norwegian jazz scene. Over the past couple of years it has developed a reputation as the hot spot in European jazz, the place where it's all happening. Kongsberg Jazz Festival is a good place to start, I was told - "plenty of good young bands bubbling beneath the surface".

So here I am, on the stopping train to Kongsberg. And with more than 20 stops on the way, it's hardly an express service. At least Norwegian timetables are set in stone. So when you're told you'll be in Dent at 3.26 p.m., that's what happens. No village is too small to be afforded the dignity of punctuality.

Yet there's a paradox. For a society so neat and ordered - crime seems almost non-existent outside Oslo - how come there's so much graffiti? Even a BMW distribution centre that we pass, for all its closed-circuit television, has been done over.

Eventually the Tannoy announces Kongsberg. Here, in the crisp, clear air, where it's still light at 2.30 a.m., they are holding their 40th annual jazz festival. A street has been cordoned off to make room for an impressive stage and enough seating, it seems, for all of the town's 25,000 people. Banners are everywhere, but it's the spectacular waterfall that splits the town in half that catches the eye.

Later I learn that, years ago, a local jazz administrator was having an argument with his wife as they were crossing the bridge - so, the story goes, he threw her into the swirling torrent, 70 feet below. But women are women in Norway, so she swam to the bank and promptly filed for divorce.

Looking around this charming, picturesque town it's hard to believe that almost all the greats of contemporary jazz have played here. On the walls of my hotel are framed posters dating back to the first festival, held in 1965. As you walk down the corridors you're greeted by names such as Charles Mingus, Stan Getz, Sonny Rollins and Art Blakey.

This year, however, only two US bands are on the four-day roster, one led by the guitarist John Scofield, the other by the saxophonist Ornette Coleman. The rest of the programme is made up of European musicians, most from Scandinavia. And it turns out that Kongsberg's sister festival, Nattjazz, in Bergen, which has been going for almost 35 years, booked no US artists this year. Times are changing.

I asked Bo Grønningsaeter, who, as director of West Norway Jazz Centre, general secretary of the Europe Jazz Network and former director of Nattjazz, is a mover and shaker of Norwegian jazz, the reason for this. "There is much less focus now on American musicians than was the case 10 or 15 years ago," he says. "You can put together a commercially viable programme without American stars, as we have in Norway. American artists that would sell very well 10 years ago, all of a sudden you can't sell any tickets any more. Audiences have passed on to something else. They want to listen to newer and fresher material."

Increasingly, Norwegian audiences are turning to home-grown musicians, who are producing what many people think is much more adventurous and exciting jazz than that coming out of the US. Norway finally seems to be seeing the fruits of a sophisticated music-education system that extends from kindergarten to university.

In the 1960s Norwegian music educators devised a strategy for what they thought the musical life of the nation ought to be built on, with the aim of harnessing children's inherent talent. This long-term project, known as "the vision", started from the premise there should be a job market for musicians, both within the education system and in the marketplace as a whole, subsidised by taxes if necessary.

Since then, Rikskonsertene, a state agency, has nurtured a national music programme that now yields 8,000 concerts a year, mainly funded by the government. Festivals of music, including jazz, have been established around the country, as have support systems - touring, commissions, venue subsidies - that in turn play a part in the cultural job market in Norway.

Within this atmosphere jazz has grown and flourished. This autumn, for example, will see the worldwide release of albums by Norwegian jazz musicians such as Jan Garbarek, Trygve Seim, Jon Balke and Nils Petter Molvaer, musicians with growing international followings. Ten years ago Garbarek was the only Norwegian jazz musician known outside his country. Now all that's changing.

Solveig Slettahjell and her Slow Motion Orchestra (a quartet) for me were the highlight of the festival, epitomising the strength of Norwegian jazz. Here was a world-class jazz singer, unknown outside Norway, with not only a superb voice but also a creative musical imagination that she uses to recontextualise every song in a unique, compelling way. Then there was Atomic, a quintet of Norwegian and Swedish musicians who seem destined for great things. So too a group called Core, with a pianist called Havard Wiik common to both bands. He's a young player of flair and creative excitement.

I was also impressed by the understated vocalist and keyboard player Susanna Wallumrod, or Susanna and the Magical Orchestra, as she's known, whose quirky melancholic style is completely her own. There was also an excellent set by the tenor saxophonist Jonas Kullhammar and his group, a dynamic young quartet that, like all these bands, will soon be heard outside Scandinavia.

Late nights are inevitable, as there's always a really good jam session going on into the small hours (not the best way to prepare for being woken at 9 a.m. the following day by an 18-year-old Nordic beauty singing A Nightingale Sang In Berkeley Square at Kongsberg's central bandstand). Jazz completely takes over the town, and the way Norway has so successfully embraced it and made it its own is remarkable. But it is not all good news. Lager costs €10 a pint. Still, you can't have it all.