13 June - Andalsnes to Trondheim. 217 miles

The Atlantic Road, crossing inlets between Averoy and Kristiansund, was today's Scenic Route. This is a library shot. See how it compares with the one a few paras below.

After wriggling round Averoya we would make our way to Trondheim.

Another wet start, so cautious driving (perhaps I have at last reached an age when fear is winning out over stupidity?) for a couple of hours. On the ferry to Solsnes (the first of the two fjord crossings before Molde) we met two bikers who had come from southern Brittany and were following almost exactly the same route as us. I may see them on the Lofoten boat on Saturday but they will then be taking a couple of extra days to get to the North Cape. Because they are bikers and I am careful in the wet (see above) they were out of sight as soon as the ferry docked.

By 11 the rain had stopped and we were able to press on with more confidence and in better light. At noon the wet weather gear was off and the sun was out. If we could just get rid of those damp starts.

Anyway, the Atlantic Road is only eight kilometres long and is known for its eight bridges connecting an archipelago of small islands. This aerial picture, which I am not going to pretend was taken by me, gives you an idea.

The home-grown version is less professional, but it does have an M3W in it

I am pleased I did it but I would hesitate to give it that awful badge of 'iconic'. What we saw over the previous two days was better, at least in my book. But the drying road was largely empty and we were able to cross at what I would like to think is proper Three Wheeler speed.

Instead of taking the direct route to Kristiansund we looped south to see the Stave Church at Kvernes. From the road, I thought it was a handsome white church. 

But the real thing hides behind it in a pretty setting by the fjord.

Dating from c.1300, its plain exterior belies the finery within.

The decoration is mostly early 17th Century but the altarpiece is 1475 and one could see the faint outlines of mediaeval wall paintings.

We said a little prayer for getting us there without mishap, and continued to Trondheim. And here we offer a lesson for future travellers to Norway with small fuel tanks. Quite a number of Norwegian petrol stations are unmanned, and we have already found three that would not accept any of my cards. They recognise them and the PIN but nothing happens. We were almost caught short today when the station we had planned as the last opportunity before Trondheim (and the maps showed no other for 90 miles - at that stage the trip was reading 154 but my newly behaving fuel gauge showed 40%) failed to deliver. Thankfully there was another, more compliant one a few miles down the road that did not show on the charts; otherwise we wondered whether our 5L spare can would have been enough. From now on, things get less civilised, and if one station between Tromso and Helsinki turns me down we could be in trouble.

We are starting to see more salmon farms.

We reached Trondheim in bright sunshine and it was getting warmer (I am sweltering in my room at 19.30). I made a big mistake choosing this hotel. It is shabby, noisy, and as you may gather, hot. Ah well. It was a working day, but the streets seemed quiet, and the architecture is unexceptional. One exception to the unexceptional is the cathedral, the northernmost Gothic structure in Europe. 

It has not had a happy time. Completed in 1300, it has suffered several major fires and a lightning strike which collectively did for most of the interior. The rebuilding was only completed in 2001. This front, for example, was the work of the early 20th Century - the originals of the statues are in a museum

An interesting aside. Trondheim is Norway's third largest city, with a population of 182,000. Norway's population density is 35.2 per square mile. The UK's third largest is Manchester with 2.75m and we have a density of 701.1 per square mile. There is a lot more space here.

People have asked me how one copes with long days at the wheel without company. I tell them that I doubt more than a couple of seconds go by at the wheel without a thought, a conversation with oneself, a constant monitoring of The Toad's squeaks, rattles and croaks, and a finer observation of what's around one because, unprotected from the elements, one is so much more in touch with them (too literally when it rains). It sharpens the senses, coupled with the requirements of driving this thing. In my dog carrier, I do not bother about the car. It would not occur to me that it could not take me to the North Cape in comfort and without difficulty. In a smart convertible one gets the wind in one's hair, that salty pang as we hit the Atlantic Road, the fresh smell of the pine forests. But the car pretty much drives itself. With The Toad it is so much more important to concentrate, to watch everything. It is like an extra pint of adrenaline every time I get in the cockpit. 

And if none of that applies,  there is always the wonderful engine note, like a giant sewing machine at the front and the roaring and popping that one gets on either side from the straight-through exhausts. Which made me think that the upgraded Three Wheeler is the perfect vehicle for marrieds: they could only communicate by shouting at each other and it would be a pain to listen to what the other one was saying.

And while we are talking about The Toad - which, incidentally, has been Teacher's Pet thus far - I am not sure if it always is the BB as the whine in fourth and fifth often comes from the gearbox.

Tomorrow, when we have many more miles to cover, we strike north and cross the Arctic Circle. It looks as though it is going to start well, but we may cop a bit of rain in the afternoon. Checking the weather map every hour before each day's stage is a jittery affair.