Both of us slept like logs last night, after our disrupted night the night before. Whist trying to warm up in the campsite’s restaurant / bar, there was a sudden influx of humanity just as the World Cup football match between Belgium and Brazil started. They all huddled around the TV, and most seemed to be supporting Belgium. By half time, I could stand the whooping and cheering no more, and headed back to Oscar to have our tea. Howard listened to the rest of the match on the radio iPlayer – it seems we had seen all the goals before we left.

This morning, we decided to move on from our very friendly campsite in Moskenes. We wanted to explore more of the Lofotens, and it made no sense to be constantly driving back to the tip each evening. So we headed northwards, past beautiful Reine, which today had much less appeal in the dull flat light than it had done two days earlier.

This morning, before leaving the campsite, we had purchased a proper map of the Lofotens, having previously been navigating on a large scale map of Norway, which showed little detail. The joy of this new map was that as well as pointing out places of interest, it also marked coffee shops – a stroke of genius. So that was how we found ourself headed for the tiny fishing hamlet of Sund, in search of coffee stop number one! There appeared to be only two things in Sund, apart from a small harbour – a blacksmiths and the delightful Kafe Stampen. What a find it turned out to be! The charming girl who served us persuaded us to try her homemade waffles, with brown cheese, soured cream and jam on top. It sounds odd, I know, but it was absolutely delicious. Howard asked her why the cheese was brown. It turns out it is a mixture of milk, cream and whey, warmed until it caramelised. This brown cheese is a speciality here in Norway, and despite it’s rather off-putting colour, I would thoroughly recommend it.

We then headed on, taking a look along Selsfjord, at the north-west side of Flakstadoya, the second island up the chain. We stopped for our lunch in a wonderful little lay-by, that had put out picnic tables and chairs covered with a grass-roofed canopy, and the WC likewise was decked in a turf roof. So we sat and ate our cheese rolls looking out across the fjord – very pleasant.

A little further on we diverted again to a place called Vitken, to visit a glass-blowing studio called Glasshytta. There we watched the glass-blower skilfully produce a beautiful multi-coloured vase, and ridiculously purchased a small glass heart. The insanity of our decision will only be obvious to those of you who have seen at first hand the minute size of our living quarters, and the lack of storage. I suspect we will have to send it home with Oliver, when we meet up with him in Tromso in a weeks time.

Continuing north, we passed into Vestvagoy, and turned off the main road and headed to a series of beaches. Our first stop was Vik, recommended by a photographer friend for displaying lots of patterns in the sand at low tide. Unfortunately, the tide was up when we arrived, so Howard duly obliged with the sand patterns by excitedly writing the score of the England : Sweden match in the sand. He thinks he’s funny! It was a lovely beach though, and had it not been so cloudy, we may have been tempted to wild camp and wait for the midnight sun.

Our final stop of the day was at another beautiful beach called Utailiev. As well as lovely white sand, at one end of the beach is a series of rock layers, interspersed with rock pools. I spent half an hour or so taking some photos, whilst Howard went off for a brisk walk, leading me with the other ‘photo geeks’ on the rocks. In truth, the rock pools were amazing, filled with fluorescent green weed and some amazing rock patterns – he doesn’t know what he missed!

By now it was getting late, so we headed to our campsite. The reviews for this place were pretty mixed, but it was within a reachable distance, so we decided to risk it. Amongst the reviews, one person said, and I quote, ‘The camping owner drinks too much, he lets the pizzas burn …..it is ashaming.’ Another said, ‘It is the only place I have stayed where you cannot adjust the water temperature in the shower and it was burning hot’. Well luckily, we have had none of these problems. We were greeted by the owner’s young daughter, who was charming, and definitely not drunk. However, she informed us that the electricity had ‘broken’, and there was no hot water in the showers – confirmed by a New Zealander who had just discovered this to his detriment! So, we will not be scalding ourselves in the shower tonight! And it goes without saying, no WiFi or 4G coverage – so this post will not go out tonight either. It is ashaming!

But at least England won the football! Or, if you’re reading this, and Scottish, change to – and to top it all, the final straw is that England won the football!

Yesterday evening was sublime. The skies had been clear blue all day, and only late in the evening did a few scanty clouds appear. There was barely a wisp of wind, and as we sat in Oscar looking out over the ocean, the sea glistened silver in the late day sun. At midnight, it was still light, with an eerie pink glow on the horizon. The entire campsite seemed late to bed, seduced by the warmth and the light. People sat outside their tents and vans chatting and sharing a few drinks.

It was gone midnight before we finally put our heads on the pillow, too.

At 5am I awoke abruptly, conscious that something was different. I could hear the wind howling, making the topper flap, and when I looked outside, there were significant white horses on the sea.

I got dressed and took myself off to the bathroom. On the way back I noted that all the campsite flags were blown horizontal, indicating a significant wind, side on to our roof canvas. I woke up Howard, and we discussed options. In the end, we decided to bring the roof down, for fear of damage to the bellows. So, needless to say, it was a very early start to the day for both of us.

By 8am it had started to drizzle, and the sky looked leaden with rain clouds. This was just as had been forecast, so we took stock, and formulated a plan.

Yesterday, in ‘A’, we had passed by the Lofoten Stockfish Museum, and so in an attempt to keep dry at least, we decided to give it a go. I must admit, that I anticipated that a museum that told the story of drying cod might be as interesting as watching paint dry. But I was wrong. It turned out to be a most enlightening little place, run and hosted by the dedicated Mr. Larson, who had been a cod trader for his entire working life. When he ‘retired’, he started up the museum, to teach visitors about the industry that he knew like the back of his hand.

It turned out to be utterly fascinating. Every year, tens of thousands of cod migrate from the Baring Strait to their annual spawning grounds in the the waters off Lofoten. They usually appear in late January or February, and persist here for about three months. Over this period, on average, 50,000 tons of cod are harvested every season. This makes cod fishing the single most important source of income in Lofoten. Virtually every family here has some connection with cod fishing or processing, and it turns out it is a very lucrative business.

There appear to be two types of dried cod, one which is salted and air dried, and the other which is just air dried. The salted variety is called Baccala or Clipfish, and is exported almost entirely to Portugal, where it is prized. Before it is hung up to dry, it is decapitated, and the heads dried separately and exported to Nigeria. The air dried variety is hung up whole, and is referred to as Stockfish. This delicacy is exported to Italy, where it is used primarily to make stock. Every piece of cod is used. When first caught, the tongues are sliced off, and considered quite a treat locally. Their livers are pulverised to make cod liver oil and the cod’s roe used to make caviar. I am now such an expert in cod, you wouldn’t believe! This whole lesson was made all the more interesting by dear Mr. Larson, who finished his presentation by making us coffee, and custard creams served up in a codfish’s dried mouth – lovely!!

Education complete for the day, we headed off. By now, the rain had stopped, and so I took a few more photos, and of course, we couldn’t pass the lovely bakers without purchasing another chocolate and walnut pastry – delicious!

Yesterday, on our marathon day out, we had passed by a lay-by with a sign indicating there was a sculpture to be seen. The province of Nordland has a series of open-air sculptures or ‘Skulpturlandscap’ dotted around in various locations, many by leading contemporary artists, including Antony Gormley. We stopped in the lay-by to prepare our lunch, and decided to go explore. Well, could we find this blithering thing?! We scrambled down rocks and followed a well worn path towards the sea, but it was no-where to be found. Eventually, we gave up and headed back to Oscar. Just as we nearly reached the van, Howard spotted a tiny sign in the undergrowth with an arrow. So the intrepid explorer went off to find it, while I made lunch. He returned considerably underwhelmed. It turned out to be two granite slabs, made to look like a cave entrance, of sorts. That’s contemporary art for you!

In the afternoon, we wound our way back to the campsite, and are currently doing domestic chores like washing. It’s looking pretty grey outside just now, so I think we will have an earlier night, and then head northwards tomorrow to explore the middle part of Lofoten.

Howard appears to have developed ‘Big White’ storage envy. He has just watched one owner remove a Wire Fox Terrier from the side cupboard, where presumably he sleeps. Seems a bit cruel to me! Our neighbours on the other side have just removed a huge barbecue from their cupboard, which also contains two bikes and a coolbox the size of our entire living area, full of beers. Dream on, Howard!

Still no joy with the photos – I have sat outside by the campsite’s router for nearly an hour to no avail, so have had to decamp to the ‘pub’ to warm up!

Wow! What a day! Utterly amazing!! I have fallen in love, hook, line and sinker, with the Lofotens. I have travelled to many places in this world – but this has to be up there with the best. As we sailed into the Lofotens yesterday evening, the chain of mountain peaks, known as Lofotenveggan (Lofoten Wall) reared up like a dragon’s tail on the horizon. We stood on the deck of the ferry, with the sun glinting in the water, and watched, as the slither of land slowly grew closer and closer. The excitement was tangible – not just for us, but everyone on the ferry was stood staring straight ahead, in anticipation.

As we drove off the ferry, it was almost disbelief that we had arrived at last.

The campsite that we had opted to stay in was literally within spitting distance of the ferry terminal. Luckily, we were one of the first off, since a whole line of Big Whites followed us into the campsite. On first glances, it looked fine, so we opted to stay for two nights. This turned out to be a smart move. ‘One nighters’ were allocated a rather miserable pitch on a piece of gravel, away from the sea. ‘More than one nighters’ were given an allocated number pitch, with a much better aspect. The premier spots, however, looking out over the cliffs to sea and to the harbour in Moskenes, were already taken by the time we arrived at gone eight. Nonetheless, we pitched up quickly, and scuttled off to the ‘Pub’ on site, where we treated ourselves to a fish burger for me, and fish stew for Howard. We passed on much of the menu – Pizza Deep Desire, with marinated whale meat, and chopped whale meat and pommes frites amongst some of he offerings!!

We awoke this morning to a bright blue sky, and decided to make the most of our one day of forecasted good weather.

First we headed south, to the far tip of the Lofotens, to a charming village called ‘A i Lofoten’ or just simply ‘A’ to the locals. Having been pretty much left isolated for decades, ‘A’ is more of a living museum piece from the 19th century – a preserved fishing village, with rows of red rorbuer (fisher’s cabins) and cod drying racks. At it’s peak, 700,00 cod would have been hung up to dry here. Today, there were still plenty of cod drying racks in evidence – mainly drying the cod’s heads, which have become a delicacy in African countries such as Nigeria. The air drying of whole cod, known as Stockfish, is also carried out, and these are mainly exported to Italy and Croatia. ‘A’ also housed the world’s oldest cod liver oil factory, now just a museum, but very popular in the 19th and early 20th centuries. We visited the bakery, which has been in operation since the 1800s, and bought a splendid cinnamon bun and chocolate and walnut pastry to have with our coffee.

Words cannot really describe how picturesque this place is, save to say I used up the remainder of my memory card on taking photos – it was just beautiful.

We then headed north to a town called Reine, another picture postcard location, looking absolutely marvellous in the sunshine, with a clear blue sky silhouetting the rows of red fisherman’s huts on the shoreline. We stopped for a coffee in the sunshine, and couldn’t believe our good fortune to experience this place on a day like today – something of a rarity in the Lofotens. Several tractors passed us by loaded with dried cod – today seemed to be the day for harvesting the fish from the drying racks, I guess being the one guaranteed dry day of the week. Very similar to our farmers back in Fife, who bring in the harvest with the good weather.

Moving on, we came to Ramsberg, with it’s stunning white sandy beach. I couldn’t resist dipping my toes in the sea, just to say that I had paddled in the Arctic Circle. Howard, who initially thought I had gone bonkers, then decided to join in, for fear of looking a wimp. Howard, being Howard, had to go one better, and do a little dance in the water, just to prove he was enjoying the intense icy cold on his feet. Who was he fooling?!!

Trying to make the most of the good weather, we carried on to a fishing village on an improbable road off the main road called Nusfjord, which proved to be the icing on the cake. This village took picturesque to another level, which explains why it’s photos are used in many of the promotions for the Lofotens. Situated all around the pretty fishing harbour are genuine 19th century rorbuer, their bright red colour contrasting vividly with the blue fjord waters and the mountains beyond. Since we had arrived late in the day, the usual entrance fee to walk around the village had been waived, and the whole place looked utterly beguiling in the early evening light.

It was really hard to drag ourselves away, but by now, I was getting ‘camera fatigue’, having taken so many photos. We slowly wound our way to our campsite in Moskenes, stopping just once on the way home, to have a quick look at the old Kirke in Flakstad, a red wooden timbered church with an onion dome dating from 1780.

Arriving back at our campsite, we had been upgraded to a pitch with an ocean view, being one of the few to be staying more than one night. We sat in the sunshine sipping the last of our Hendricks, looking out across the glimmering sea, watching the ferries come and go into the port. As we ate our tea, the sun dropped behind the mountains, and if the forecast is correct, that is the last we will see of the sun for a few days, at least. 

In all honesty, I am just delighted to have witnessed the Lofotens at their best today. Anything else will be a bonus. I can categorically say, though, the this is one of the most stunning locations that we have visited so far in our six month odyssey. The Lofotens are positively one of the most beautiful places on earth, and I feel very privileged to have visited them. I simply love the Lofotens!!

Despite being one of the most stunning places on earth, as predicted, their 4G and WiFi is far from stunning. Consequently no photos until better signal.

We had an early start this morning, in order that we could complete the last leg of the Kystriksvein coastal route up to Bodo. Our campsite last night in Furoy was adjacent to the ferry port where we had landed on our last ferry of the day. Although still drizzling when we arrived, it was still a beautiful spot looking out over the fjord. Rather foolishly, we went with Kirsty Allsop’s mantra, ‘Location, Location, Location’. I did point out to Howard when we parked up that the ground looked a little bumpy, but he said no matter, the view is superb. In any case, it had been a long drive, and neither of us fancied moving around the site looking for something better.

As ever, the 4G signal was pants, and the campsite WiFi only worked if you sat in a covered patio by reception. So in order to attempt to download my photos, I sat heroically in the rain under the cover trying to get enough signal to get my photos from my phone to the computer. Whilst I did this, Howard sat and listened to the England match in the World Cup. Eventually I succeeded, but not before I had received about thirty midge bites to my face and scalp.

We retreated to Oscar just as England miraculously managed to win the penalty shoot out, unheard of in my lifetime, I think. As we climbed into bed ‘upstairs’, I noticed an unusual tilt to the bed. Not only was I leaning bow down, I also had an alarming tilt to port, propelling me straight into Howard. I turned on my side to try to wedge myself still, and tried to go to sleep. Half an hour later, a group of Dutch people in the camper van next to us returned from who know’s where (we were effectively in the middle of nowhere, and it was close to midnight, although still light), and proceeded to bump and slam and chatter for at least three quarters of an hour. I eventually nodded off, to awake only an hour later, with raging backache, and completely over Howard’s side of the bed. In the end, I had to use my pillow to wedge under one half of me, so that I was level, and at long last went to sleep. The moral of the story is, don’t park your van on a slope, just so you can see the fjord!

This morning was damp and overcast as we drove the beautiful route up towards Bodo. We passed the Svartisen Glacier, which emerged from the mist on the other side of Holandsfjord. It is Norway’s largest glacier, encompassing 400 square kilometres. At the point we spied it, it plunges 1,200 metres down the mountainside, almost touching the fjord, and moves at a rate of 2 metres per day. Apart from stopping for petrol and picking up some bread and eggs, we didn’t stop off en route – the weather was against us, but from the warmth of the van, the scenery looked amazing. At one peninsula, we saw the Hurtigruten steaming past. When we eventually arrived in Bodo just after lunchtime, we had managed to beat it into dock by a couple of minutes. Go Oscar!

We headed straight to the ferry terminal, and plonked ourselves in the line for vehicles without a reservation. 40% of paces can be booked ahead, but they had all been sold out the few days ago when we looked online, so we endeavoured to get to the ferry in good time to secure a place. So as I type, we are sitting in the ferry queue. The good news is that the ticket person has just been down the line, and we have purchased our ticket, and she assures us that we will get on the next ferry. Lucky, because the next one is nearly five hours later, and doesn’t land until 2am.

So hopefully, the next time I post a blog, I will be in the Lofotens. My expectation of 4G or campsite WiFi however is not high, so if I go silent for a few days, it will not be through lack of trying.

We are both very excited about this next stage in our adventure. The Lofotens have been on my ‘must do’ list for decades, so here’s hoping they live up to all the hype. The sun has just peeped through the cloud – so I’m taking that as a good omen of things to come. Lofotens here we come!

Oscar got through his service with no problems, but it meant that it was a late start leaving Trondheim. 

We eventually left mid-afternoon, having negotiated a first for us – a roundabout in the middle of a tunnel on the Trondheim ring road – a little surprising!

We headed north on the aptly named Arctic Highway, the main road that winds it’s way northwards to Narvik and the Arctic Circle. Many peel off after an hour tor so to the coastal route, but because we had lost so much time in Trondheim, we opted to stick to the faster interior route initially. I must say, the scenery was utterly stunning, firstly driving alongside fjords, the further north, mountains and endless pine forests. The road follows the roaring Vetsna River for many miles, with periodic waterfalls and glorious vistas. Due to pressure of time, we rarely stopped, conscious that we needed to crack on if we were going to reach our campsite for the night.

It was after seven by the time we pulled in to our lovely campsite by the river. There were already plenty of other vans pitched up for the night, but we managed to bag the last spot left by the water’s edge. It was a glorious evening, and everyone sat outside eating their suppers and having a drink. Belgium were playing Japan in the World Cup, and when Japan went two up, the Japanese two along from us in a Big White let out shrieks and whoops – very uncharacteristic for the usually very quiet and reserved Japanese. Sadly though, silence fell as Belgium put in the next three goals to eliminate Japan from the Wold Cup. This is the first time we have camped with Japanese. The vast majority, by a mile, have been Germans, maybe more than 90% of the travellers we have encountered on our trip, so far. They are avid campers, are always really well organised – they are invariably the first off their pitch in the morning, often leaving as Howard and I are still stirring. Their strategy seems to be to rise early, wash, breakfast and pack away, and then travel on to their next spot arriving early afternoon. As a consequence, when Howard and I potter up early evening, all the best pitches have usually been taken. The German family pitched on the other side to us last night decided to try their luck at fishing in the river. Father and son donned waterproofs up to their waists, and waded into the water. The Dad was trying to teach the son to fly fish, although I’m not sure his technique was up to much, judging from the fly fisherman I have observed in Scotland. They stood out in the water for a couple of hours, but nothing was caught, and when they waded back onto the bank, their faces matched those of the poor Japanese family.

This morning, despite our very best efforts, we were still almost last man standing at the campsite, but we did at least pip the Japanese, but only just.

We headed first to the lovely little town of Mosjoen, which proved an absolute gem. Despite an ugly aluminium producing plant to it’s north, the old town itself sits on the shore of Vefsnfjorden, with a steep mountain the short distance across the fjord forming a stunning backdrop. Most of the old part of the town is a street which runs along the fjord-side, consisting of old weatherboarded houses and former warehouses, with over a hundred of the buildings having a listed status. Many of the buildings are occupied by artists and craftsmen, and there are several cafes and restaurants too. Unfortunately, the gorgeous sunshine of yesterday had left us, and a light drizzle hung in the air, but despite this, the town looked quite charming.

We stopped for coffee in a cafe recommended in my trusty Lonely Planet, which was heaving with locals, and had the nursery school children sitting in their garden, all dressed in matching fluorescent jackets. The coffee was exceedingly good. Before leaving the town, we had a quick walk around. I wondered into a gallery of paintings and glasswork, and we got talking to the lovely artist who ran it. She specialised in fused glass works, and some of her pieces were stunning. Somehow, she had taken casts of people’s faces, and reproduced then in coloured glass. It sounds odd, but it was amazingly original and very eye-catching. We ended up buying a very small glass heart, described as a ‘Heart of Joy’ – rather apt, I thought. The artist also told us about the festival they were holding this coming weekend, when everyone’s studios down the street would be open, making it the ‘longest gallery’ in Norway. It brought to mind the Pittenweem Festival in Fife, a similar idea. They were hanging bunting out in preparation, made from lampshades, handbags and flowers – very novel!

Heading off, we opted to veer off the main road north, and join the hugely publicised coastal route, the Kystriksveien, which follows route 17 up to Bodo. It is muted as one of the most spectacular drives in the world, the scenery being stupendous. Well, on a better day, maybe it would be! But as we continued to drive, the weather slowly closed in, making me a very frustrated photographer. This route twists and turns along the coast, and necessitates several ferry crossings, making it fairly slow going. On the second ferry of the day, we crossed over into the Arctic Circle. Howard and I rushed out on deck – appropriately it was cold and wet, and we just managed to spy the metal sculpture onshore signifying our transition into the Arctic.

This is the second time on this trip that we have experienced the Arctic, the first being in Iceland. In the next week or two, we plan to travel even further north, through the Lofotens and, all being well, onto Nordcapp. Sadly the weather forecast for the next week isn’t brilliant – and today I was forced out of my shorts and sandals, and back into warm weather gear. So no more ‘al fresco’ dining for a while. At least though we can call Oscar an ‘Arctic Explorer’!!

 

We had a late night last night in the end. We waited for nearly two hours before we could start our washing, and then had to wait a further half hour for our neighbour to finish with the tumble dryer. The long and short of it was that we sat drinking a bottle of wine until gone eleven o’clock, waiting for our sheets to dry! At about half eleven, just as we were going to bed, a group of Dutch youths appeared in a car, and proceeded to put up two tents, right by the German lady. They then proceeded to play American football for at least an hour. Surprisingly, it didn’t bother me at all – I think I’d had too much to drink to care – but it clearly upset our German neighbour, who was up and away just after six this morning. The youths didn’t appear from their tents until nearly eleven, and took up their game of football where they had left off last night. Six months ago, this sort of thing would have really bothered me, but I think I have become more relaxed about communal living, with the exception of people setting up camp right on top of us.

We set off eastwards towards Trondheim. Before long, we were waiting to board yet another ferry – I must count up how many we have taken so far. They really are incredibly efficient. We only waited for six minutes to board this one, and had just enough time on the crossing for a coffee and ‘Honey Bun’, rather like a doughnut. We sat on the deck in the sunshine, looking out over the spectacular view of the fjord. In fact, the scenery along this whole route was stunning, first alongside the fjords, and then cutting across country. The route was peppered by tiny little fishing communities and fjord-side farms. On a day like today, it was easy to envy these peoples choice of location, but I can imagine on a bleak and rainy winters day, I might have felt differently.

The closer we got to Trondheim, the more and more tunnels appeared on the route – I handed the driving back to Howard at this point. We arrived early in the afternoon, and our first task was to carry out a reckie of the VW garage that will be servicing Oscar tomorrow.

Task completed, we had the rest of the afternoon to explore the city. Trondheim is Norway’s third largest city. It’s centre is situated on a triangular piece of land between a loop in the River Nid, making it’s centre very compact, and easily walkable. We parked up Oscar, and headed off on foot towards the famous cathedral. Unlike the cathedral in Kristiansund yesterday, this one wouldn’t look out of place in middle England. The Nidaros Domkirke, as it is called, is Scandinavia’s largest medieval building, and is dedicated to St. Olav. It has a magnificent green copper spire, and around it’s facades are intricate stone carvings, many done by English stonemasons in the 12th and 13th centuries. It’s presence dominates the city, and really has tremendous kerb appeal.

We then wandered across the Old Town Bridge called Gamle Bybro, with it’s wonderful views of 19th century timbered warehouses, now mostly offices and restaurants, into an area called Bakklandet, famous for it’s brightly painted timber houses. It is an incredibly attractive city to walk around, and today, on a Sunday, it seemed really quiet, with many of the shops closed. Heritage tour completed, we wound our way along the shore of Flakkfjorden to our campsite for the night. It is situated right by the ferry dock, so periodically we hear the ferry coming into land, but the view more than compensates for any noise. What’s more – it’s a beautiful sunny evening, and I have WiFi at long last – three cheers for Trondheim!!

Tomorrow we are busy doing van stuff, so may not post if nothing interesting to say – how much can you chat about a van service?!! Wish Oscar luck. I feel a little like a parent sending their child off to their first day at school!!

I have just managed to insert all the photos for the last four posts, if anyone interested.

We’ve had a quieter day today, after the excitement of the ‘Atlantic Ocean Road’ yesterday, culminating in Howard’s fire episode.

Despite much frantic wafting, and opening all the windows, the smoke from the chimney failed to clear sufficiently to silence the fire alarm. So eventually, Howard phoned the warden, who had to come back to de-activate the fire alarm Turns out, the last person to light the fire, had closed the vent that allows smoke up the chimney – so it wasn’t entirely our fault after all! Needless to say though, we weren’t the most popular campers on site!

This morning we went off to explore the town of Kristiansund. It sits by the Atlantic Ocean, or, as it is called here, the Norwegian Sea. It comprises an archipelago of islands, that combine to form a natural harbour. In the past, it was famed for it’s Salted Cod fleet, and the processing of said fish. today, it gains most of it’s wealth from the gas and oil industries, providing many of the support vessels for this booming industry. As a result, Kristiansund has a moderately affluent feel about it, with many expensive yachts in the marina, and a plethora of well kept brightly painted weather-boarded houses.

Our guide books didn’t have much to say about it really, I suspect because it’s not a natural tourist magnet. The Hurtigruten does stop here, but not to let people do anything apart from look from the boat, so it has the feel more of a jobbing town and port, rather than anything else. Howard and I liked it all the more for being just that.

We parked Oscar up, and headed down to the dockside, where we had been told there was a small ferry boat that connects the four main islands of Kristiansund. It turns out, in fact, that this small boat is the world’s oldest method of public transport, having been in continuous operation since 1876, before even the famous San Fransisco trams. The current boat, Framnaes, has been in operation since 1917. The added bonus of this marvellous little ferry, that continual rotates between the four main drop off points every twenty minutes or so, is that it is completely free to use!

We hopped on and did the short leg across to the old part of the town, called Innlandet. Unbeknown to us, they were celebrating a ‘Tahiti Festival’. Seems a bit incongruous in Norway, but that’s what they’d billed it as. So as we landed at the small dockside, it was adorned with lots of tissue paper flower garlands, and just up from the jetty, a stage had been erected. At the time, they seemed to be running the equivalent of ‘Norway’s Got Talent’ for teenagers, who one by one, were doing a turn on the microphone. Thankfully, we only caught the tail end of it, before they packed up for the afternoon. We then had a very pleasant wander around the streets of Innlandet, admiring the pretty little wooden houses, with beautifully kept gardens. At the top of a hill was a path leading to a tall stone memorial, surrounded by Norwegian flags and several canons. It turns out, that this was to celebrate a famous victory over the British in 1808, when two British Frigates sailed into the port, and were duly well and truly routed by the Norwegians, who set their guns on them from this tactical vantage point.

We then caught the ferry back to the main jetty, and had a walk around the rest of the town. We climbed up to the ultra modern Cathedral, with it’s angular roof made of concrete. We were unable to gain access, but I suspect it would be fairly minimal inside, which seems to be the norm here in Norway. I tried to gain some help with my internet / WiFi issues, but to no avail – Norwegian MiFi sims are only sold to Norwegians apparently. I remain completely baffled as to why the 4G is so poor here that it is failing to download the photos from my iPhone. We have positively the worst reception of any country we have visited so far. Inexplicably, I have just received four photos taken today, but none of those from yesterday, the day before, or the rest of today. What is the ‘Cloud’ doing with them, I ask?!                                 

We decided on another night at the same campsite. It is set in a quiet paddock surrounded by trees, there is hardly anyone else here, the showers have underfloor heating (a big plus!), and we need to do some washing. Despite there being hardly anyone around, within five minutes of getting back, a German lady and her daughter arrived, and despite having approximately four acres to chose from, decided to pitch their tent right next to us. What is it about these people?!!! To make matters worse, when Howard carried the washing up to put it in the machine – she had just pipped us to the post. I’m quite sure she overheard us discussing doing the washing (her English is immaculate), so she must have literally sprinted up to put hers on first. Howard, who usually is all sweetness and light, is now glowering at our new neighbours! This could be ‘War of the Laundry’!! I’m not phased though – I have my ultimate revenge weapon – a snoring husband! Never before have his dulcet tones sounded so satisfying!

 

Today dawned a much brighter day in Alesund. After breakfast, I sought out a Specsavers, yet again, to get my glasses re-adjusted, since they had become loose playing table tennis.  One of the benefits of using the High Street brand to supply my glasses, is that there is a branch in virtually every moderate sized European town or city, which has come in very useful on this trip.

Job done, we set off eastwards along the shores of Storfjorden and Ellingsoyfjorden, with the stunning mountains in the distance, until heading northwards towards Vestnes. There was caught yet another ferry across Moldefjorden to the pleasant waterside town of Molde. A morning coffee stop beckoned, so we sat outside in the sunshine, looking at the town. We mused on the name, and for some reason suddenly remembered a pop song from the seventies called ‘Mouldy Old Dough’. Turns out it was a hit in 1972, for a group called Lieutenant Pigeon. They don’t make them like that anymore!! Our children will have absolutely no idea what I am talking about!

We then continued on our way, heading for the town of Kristiansund. Rather than travel the direct route along the main road, we had opted to drive the world famous ‘Atlantic Highway’. It took us most of the afternoon to wiggle and weave our way along this sublimely beautiful coastal route.

We stopped for a while at a town called Bud, which had a pretty little church and harbour, and pristinely kept weather-boarded houses. On a mount just above the town was a series of gun emplacements, left by the Nazis from their occupation in the Second World War. From this vantage point, we could see across the town and out across the Norwegian Sea to multiple little islands.Ten kilometres or so further north, we branched off the main highway to a place called Askevagen. This was the site of huge kelp beds, harvested in the past for potash and iodine production, but now a source for alginates used in wound dressings. Here you could also walk along to a glass-fronted viewing platform, enabling you to get a 360 degree panorama of the archipelago of islands and coastline.

We stopped a couple more times, just to take in the views, before coming to the climax of the route – the Storseisund Bridge, which appears to defy gravity, and twist and curl to Averoy Island. It looked a pretty daunting prospect before we drove onto it, and at it’s highest point, reminded me a little of a roller-coaster ride.

This truly is a wonderful drive, and we were very fortunate to be able to see it in such good weather. On a bleak windy day, I am sure the Atlantic wouldn’t look anywhere near as appealing!

Eventually we approached Kristiansund, and located our campsite for the night. It looks an interesting coastal town, which hopefully we will explore tomorrow. It is famous for it’s Salted Cod. Frankly though, I’ve eaten so much cod on this trip so far, I’m not sure how much more I can manage.

As I type, Howard has just set off the fire alarm, by trying to light the fire in the communal room on our campsite. He has just thrown water on the fire, opened all the windows, and is stood on a table, waving cushions around frantically, trying to dissipate the smoke from around the smoke detectors. I think the Fire Brigade may arrive shortly! I am finding it hard not to laugh at this moment in time. The other campers are looking less pleased – the alarm is exceedingly loud. I’ll update you tomorrow – I may have to evacuate the building, and retreat to Oscar!  

Still no photos – what does the cloud do with them for two days?!!  

The view from our campsite in Aldalsnes was amazing – looking across the river to the soaring mountains. Last night in the sunshine it looked incredible – this morning in the rain, it was still impressive, but lacking the same appeal as last night.

We dId have some excitement though (warning – entomphiles look away now) – we got to christen our new insect bat effectively for the first time. Previously we had just swung it around aimlessly. An annoying little fly appeared as we were eating breakfast. We reached for the bat, and zap! The bat lets out a very satisfying sizzling noise, associated with a flash, as the bat hits the fly and falls too the ground. Macabre, but very pleasing. Howard looked as if he had just won an important sporting contest, he was so chuffed!

We set off, and decided on stopping in the town of Aldalsnes for coffee, since we had only seen the outskirts. There’s not a lot to say abut it really, except that it’s clearly into mountain climbing. There were several outdoor shops selling all manner of climbing equipment. It also lays claim to the tallest indoor climbing wall in Europe, housed in the visitor centre. We had our coffee, and left.

Before heading onwards, we needed to make some phone calls. Oscar will be due a service in the next week, and we were struggling to find a Commercial VW dealer. We googled one in Trondheim, and tried to call. We were defeated by a Norwegian message, probably telling us to select options, which we were unable to understand. We phoned our garage in Edinburgh – they were unable to help either.  In desperation, I googled again on my phone and pressed the ‘call’ option. When a remote voice spoke, I just pressed one, then one again. Eventually we got through to a real person! But then she had to put us through to the service department. Walter only spoke very limited English. He asked if we spoke German – no! So after a very stilted conversation, I think we have managed to book Oscar in for his service at the beginning of next week – we will see.

We then headed westwards, back towards the coast, to a town called Alesund. The Lonely Planet describes Alesund as a town unlike any other in Norway. It was largely destroyed by a fire in 1904, and was re-built in the Art Nouveau style, so has little of the typical clapboard houses of other old cities. It sits on a peninsular, surrounded on three sides by water, and is home to the Norwegian Cod fleet. In recent years, it has also become a popular stopping off point for cruise ships, as well as the Hurtigruten.

The entire journey here, it rained. The scenery, I suspect, on a day like yesterday, would be sublime. However, today, we could barely see the mountains through the mist.

As we drove into Alesund, however, the rain stopped, and slowly over the afternoon, the weather brightened.

We parked up Oscar, and took a walk around. It is a pleasant town, with a pretty waterfront, and many art Nouveau buildings extending up the hillsides from the water. There were three large cruise ships in dock, but one by one, their huge klaxons bellowed out, beckoning their passengers back onboard, and they slowly made their way out of the harbour. As we walked around, we stumbled across a stone table tennis table, outside the Arts Museum. Besides it were two bats and a container with balls inside. Being a former Youth Club table tennis champion (!!), it was something we could not resist!

Jackets off, we started to play. I must say, that in our youth, I could always beat Howard easily. So I was a little disturbed to find that Howard narrowly beat me in the first game. ‘Right – best of three, I announced’. Second game – Howard once more narrowly beat me. ‘Best of five!’ I exclaimed. Third game – he beat me again. ‘Best of seven?’ I pleaded. ‘No – winner decided on next game’, Howard appealed.

Game on. Off came my sweat shirt. I meant business. We were within a point all through the match, but eventually, I pipped him to it. Hoorah!!! The victor!! Well, in truth, I suspect that Howard may have conceded the match, but whatever – I was happy.

We then wandered off to the old part of town, passing by the Fisheries Museum, and some lovely wooden houses. 

As we returned back past the Table tennis table half an hour or so later, an Indian family who had watched us playing, had now taken up the batten. Father and son were having a match. What a lovely idea, to have a publicly available Table Tennis table in the middle of a city. Very sociable, and a credit to the local population that no-one had stolen the bats or balls. Alesund gets our vote!

Still struggling with photos – hopefully coming soon! Photos from days 167 and 168 now posted FYI.

Today has been another cracking day. It was a still morning on Gloppenfjorden, and the fjord looked just beautiful. We sat eating our breakfast looking out at the Viking ship, and before we left, Howard couldn’t resist playing Vikings aboard! Such a kid!

Our tentative plan for today had been to head for Geirangerfjord, billed as one of the most stunning of all the fjords, and to maybe stay at the campsite there. We were keen to do the boat trip between Geiranger and Hellesylt.

Before leaving Sandane, we stopped for some groceries, and decided on a coffee sitting outside in the sunshine. I watched an elderly couple eyeing up Oscar – they walked around him, then looked inside. They then crossed over the road towards us. ‘Is that yours?’, they enquired. We confirmed it was, and the old lady’s face lit up – ‘Another Brit’, she exclaimed. It turned out she had been born in Putney, but had married a Norwegian, and yesterday they celebrated their 64th wedding anniversary. She talked fondly of the UK, but it became clear to Howard and myself that she had some degree of dementia, often repeating things. Her dear husband sat patiently, quietly correcting her, and the two seemed totally devoted. Our conversation meant we were late starting our journey this morning, but clearly she had enjoyed meeting us.

We set the satnav, and it gave us two options on the route. For no particular reason, we picked the most northerly route. We hadn’t paid that much attention, because I suddenly realised from the map, that this route necessitated a ferry crossing. When I looked closer, it was the same crossing that we had wanted to do on a boat trip – so win, win. I quickly checked the ferry schedule to see the time of the next crossing – it was in twenty minutes. I looked at our satnav – we were about twenty two minutes away, with no reservation – bugger! Undeterred, we continued, thinking we would stop for a drink and sandwich in Hellesylt whilst we waited for the next ferry.

To our surprise, as we pulled in to Hellesylt, the ferry was still in the dock, loading. It should have left five minutes earlier. We drove Oscar up into the line of cars, with little expectation that we would get onboard. But to our delight, they managed to squeeze us in, right at the back, after manoeuvring a couple of cars to the side. We couldn’t believe our luck!

The ferry trip was sublime. The sun shone, and the scenery took your breath away. As we entered Geirangerfjorden, we passed the Hurtigruten sailing in the opposite direction, full of passengers up on deck. In contrast, our little ferry just had a smattering of car drivers, by far the best way to see this beautiful fjord, we thought.

As we approached our destination, the tiny village of Geiranger came into view, as well as two great big cruise ships moored up alongside. We also glimpsed the fjord-side campsite, bulging with Great Whites cheek by jowl. We both thought the same thing, simultaneously!

So, as we drove off the ferry, rather than turning right to the campsite, we hung a left, and drove off up the steep hill with a series of hairpins out of Geiranger. We had seen what we wanted to see – the stunning natural beauty of Geirangerfjorden, and that’s how we would leave it.

We checked the map again, and decided to head towards Aldalsnes further north. This route took us through the Reinheimen National Park, and then onto the famous Trollstigen Pass, known colloquially as the ‘Troll’s Road’. One of our friends had told us this was a must do experience – but having just done it, I wonder if I’m still speaking to her! This spiralling corkscrew of a road is definitely not for the faint hearted! It had 11 hairpins, a gradient of 1:12 and is billed in my guide book as ‘hair-raising’. No shit Sherlock! It was the best I could do to keep my eyes open, whilst Howard slowly edged Oscar down the gradient. It was certainly exhilarating – one of those experiences that once you’ve done it, you feel pleased, and the scenery was spectacular. But let’s just say, we won’t be doing it again tomorrow!

We found a nice campsite by the river near Aldalsnes, and have just enjoyed a tea in their cafe. Despite offering free WiFi, I still can’t get my photos downloaded, which is a shame, since I would love to share them with you. I will continue to seek out some decent signal in Norway!