My Norwegian Cycling Adventure - Part 3

Day 6 - Bergen to some woods somewhere 40.9km in 2hr 40min. Avg speed 15.3 kph. Money spent 18 Krone (approx £1.50)

I awoke under my chair and looked around. There was no-one else in the room. It took a few seconds for me to remember that there were lots of teenagers in here when I fell asleep. Somehow everyone had woken, collected their belongings and left without waking me up. I must have slept like the dead. I looked at my watch and it was 10.30am. I was hungry.

I packed up my bed space, left it folded on my sleeprette (chair) and went in search for food. I found the cafeteria and perused the menu. Here I got my first taste of the Norwegian prices I'd heard so much about. It would cost me £5 for a cup of coffee and a further £15 for a crappy continental breakfast wrapped in plastic. I noted this in my diary:

Woke up surprisingly late (10.30am) and refreshed this morning but I'm well hungry. However, I'm not paying £15 for breakfast. I'll wait till I get off the ship and eat then.

I made a conscious effort to forget my hunger, changed some English Stirling into Norwegian Krone at the now open cash exchange and took a stroll on the outer deck. It was cold and windy but not nearly as bad as the previous evening. The sea also looked fairly calm compared to the day before. I guessed that Norway was getting very close. I pulled on my winter hat and pulled my hood over it, zipped up tightly and wondered around to the other side of the ship to take a look. And there she was.....Norway. I could see the land in the distance. A shiver went up my spine and a smile as wide as the sky landed on my face. I instantly forgot about the cold and my hunger as the wild, excited anticipation grew and grew. I would spend the next few hours watching Norway from the deck, bobbing back inside every 20 mins or so to warm up briefly. 

As we approached the port at Bergen, it began to rain. I suddenly remembered reading something before I set out on this crazy trip. I'd read that Bergen is one of the wettest places in the world. It has its own micro-climate due to the clouds getting trapped in front of the horseshoe like mountains that surrounded it. Everyone began to dash inside to avoid the rain. I didn't! I wanted to test the breathable waterproof jacket that I had bought for the journey. The jacket had seen a little rain but it hadn't had a Bergen test and the rain got heavier and heavier. I stood out in the rain for another half hour or so and decided to go back to my space, check out the jacket results and pack up my bag for disembarking the ship. I was pleased to find that the jacket passed with flying colours. It was now almost 4pm and the ship was due to land at 5.15pm.

Soon after a voice came over the tannoy asking passengers disembarking at Bergen to go down to their vehicles. When I got down to Hannibal (my bike) I noticed that the other cyclists bike was still there and he was nowhere to be seen. I realised that he was probably disembarking at Stavanger further south in order to cycle across to Sweden. Soon enough we reached dry land and I was ushered to the front of the queue with my bike. I stood straddling the bike in readiness for my first action on foreign soil and when the door opened off I went down the ramp closely followed by a convoy of cars. 

My first action as I hit the tarmac off the ship was to immediately veer over to the wrong side of the road bringing hoots from the car horns of the drivers behind. I turned and the driver of the car directly behind me was flapping his arms around pointing me towards the right. He looked like he was about to have a pulmonary embolism. The bike felt heavy and I wobbled over to the correct side of the road i.e. the right hand side. Perplexed drivers quickly zoomed past. I noticed that many of their passengers were laughing at me as I wobbled around in the rain trying to find my balance again. 'You don't know the half of it,' I thought to myself.

A few minutes later I hit the E39 main road and pulled over to assess my situation. My map was inside a clear plastic cover, strapped to my handlebars. I could see the town of Bergen a couple of miles to the south but knew I needed to head north. The rain was absolutely hammering down and the sky was a filthy grey. My feet were absolutely soaking wet and I had no waterproof shoes with me, just my ordinary trainers. Looking north I could see that the cloud broke beyond the first pass and I hoped that dry weather was not too far away.

Diary excerpt:

The ship landed on time at 5.15pm and I rode off into a very rainy Bergen. I had been warned that it always rains in Bergen and it certainly didn't disappoint. I could see, however, that the sky was clear over the mountain pass to the north and that was the way I was headed. Indeed, the rain did stop as I reached the pass and I saw a telephone box, my chance to phone Kelly at last.

Here you can see Hannibal waiting patiently for me as I telephoned my wife.

Kelly was suitably relieved to hear my voice and understanding of my telephone troubles. Unfortunately I didn't get to speak to the kids as they had gone to bed earlier. With that I set off once again with 2 goals in mind. Firstly I needed to find somewhere to camp and secondly I needed to eat.

The light was beginning to dim now as I saw a little dirt track on my left. I ventured down it hoping to find a good spot. I wasn't to be disappointed as I noted in my diary:

At the moment I'm camping in the most idyllic spot I've ever camped at. I'm in a valley with high stone walls either side topped with conifers and pines.In front of my tent sits a lake with an island in the middle. On the island is a lovely looking cottage (lucky sod!). A small rowing boat sits moored up a few feet away from my tent so I assume no one is at home. I've taken a picture of the view from inside my tent so I can gloat about it on my return.

As you can see, the light was beginning to fade so it's difficult to make out the lake in the centre and impossible to see the cottage. Just in front of my tent were two sticks in the ground supporting my upturned drying trainers. I set about unpacking my stove and cooked a massive bowl of porridge with chocolate chip cookies broken up into it. Two cups of hot chocolate followed and I lay back and congratulated myself on reaching this wonderful place. Then I fell asleep.

Day 7 - Some woods somewhere to Rutledal 97.60km in 6hr 37min. Avg speed 14.7kph. Money spent 93Krone (approx £11)

I awoke and popped my head out of the tent to see a pair of rather unappealing damp trainers and a rowing boat. The owner of the cottage obviously hadn't been home. I turned on the stove, fixed up a brew and had another massive bowl of porridge, this time without the cookies as they were all gone. The only food I had left now was a large bag of porridge oats and two boxes of dried soup that I had acquired from my previous employers just before I quit my job to do this trip.

Suitably porridged up, I packed up and left the beautiful spot to find shops for food. Just an hour up the road I turned a corner and was met with a sight that I will never ever forget. 

I was overcome with a new feeling. I slowed and gawped at the unbelievable natural beauty that had opened up in front of my eyes. I cycled on slowly, in awe, in shock; until I realised that I needed to pull over and take a photograph. My hands were shaking as I found my crappy little camera and pointed it out over the water. I took the photograph above, put my camera away, turned back and just stood looking at the sheer majesty of this place. Tears flooded down my cheeks (even now as I sit here writing this I am welling up just thinking about it) and I felt like I didn't exist. I felt like a feather at the mercy of nature. I felt insignificant; yet at peace with everything. I knew I had come to the right place.

I regrouped and jumped back into the saddle with new determination to see more of this. After a short while riding along the side of this gorgeous fjord I came across the first of two long bridges that spanned the fjord and joined up the islands to the mainland. After crossing the bridges I arrived in a small town called Knarvik. Here I found a local shop and purchased 10 bananas, 5 apples, a french stick, a few chocolate bars and another pot of jam. I was glad to see that it did indeed only cost about 20% more than UK stores. This was a relief and allowed me to do a little budgeting.

I loaded up the groceries and had a look at my map. The road forked here in this town and I needed to decide which road to take. I could choose to stay on the E39 heading north or I could take the smaller road no 57 which also headed north but looked more interesting on the map. I chose the smaller road. Looking back that may have been a mistake as the road was punishing. I wrote in my diary:

Some of those hills were killers. They seemed to go on forever. At times I found myself climbing for over an hour and once at the top, the forthcoming downhills were almost always too steep and bendy to let rip. Instead I have to edge myself down with my brakes almost full on at times. I wish I'd brought some spare brake blocks because I fear I may need some. I hope I find somewhere that sells them.

Eventually I came to a ferry port on the banks of the Fensfjord. I would need to cross on the ferry in order to continue my route north. The crossings are frequent, easy and relatively inexpensive. I was on a ferry within minutes of arrival and resting my legs as the boat took us across the Fensfjord. You can find out more about Fensfjord here.

I disembarked and once again climbed up into the hills. I was now headed for the Sognefjord. Known as the king of the fjords, Sognefjord is Norway's longest and deepest fjord. You can find out more about Sognefjord here.

The hills were the same as on the last island I had just traversed, steep and punishing. I did feel, however, that I was beginning to get stronger with all of this daily exertion. I'd certainly forgotten all about my sore bottom that had been bothering me since day 2. Eventually after almost 100km of riding I reached the ferry port town of Rutledal on the banks of the Sognefjord. It was getting late now and the ferries had finished for the day so I needed to find a place to camp for the night. I rode along the bank of the fjord looking for a suitable spot when I saw a little patch of land that looked like a small beach on the edge of the water. It looked perfect but as I wrote in my diary I was in for a bit of a shock:

A few kilometres down the road was my answer. A fantastic spot on the sands at the side of the Sognefjord. It was beautiful, the view was breathtaking and I couldn't believe my luck. So up went the tent, on went the soup and out came the bread. After filling my face I lay down and began to fall asleep almost immediately. That was until I heard the sound of the water lapping against my tent. With emergency speed I somehow found the energy to get my shorts on, get my bags out and up on the bank behind me. I threw my bike up and threw my still erect tent up as well. And there it would stay until morning with me in it.

The thing is that I was so tired and eager to eat when I arrived that rational thought had passed me by. I hadn't considered that the fjords were tidal and hadn't seen the dry seaweed that was lying around behind where my tent had been situated. A tell tale sign if ever there was one! The good thing was that no damage was done and I had learned a lesson.

And so it was that I fell asleep on the banks of the longest and deepest fjord in Norway.

Thanks for joining me on my journey. I hope you're finding it as enjoyable to read as I do to write. Please join me tomorrow as I continue on towards the Arctic Circle.

Until then may a thousand blessings land at your doorstep

STEEMONKEY🐒