14 June - Trondheim to Jektvik. 348 miles



Rising this morning at 04.45, I thought "Go to Hell". So I did.



Hell is just outside Trondheim, and one couldn't not go there, could one? I wanted a photo of The Toad by that sign, but sadly they took it (the sign, not my vehicle) away because there were too many sightseers so I have borrowed that photo from the internet.


This was always going to be the hardest leg of the trip because of the mileage and the difficulty of the closing 75 miles.  Having started on the road to Hell, we took the direct route rather than following the coast as Richard Hardy did. The latter is an outstanding set of roads but it would have required an extra day which I just could not spare, so up the E6 it was. Typical Norwegian A road: narrow single carriageway, sometimes unmarked, nasty drops on both sides. And it rained for a couple of hours.

Compared to what we had enjoyed over the previous three days, the E6 was rather workaday - just routine mountains and fjords. We had planned to go further, turning off at Mo i Rana, but closures north of Mosjoen forced us to reroute; and once we reached Nesna for the first of two fjord crossings, what a change!



At every turn in the road there was a spectacular new vista. Imagine the Queen Charlotte Sound, but with higher, rocky, snow-capped slopes. We could have stopped for photos every mile, but these will have to do.

 




Shortly before those were taken, I noticed something in my rear view mirror. Except that my view is blocked by my bag. No it wasn't. The something I noticed 100 yards back, which I thought was a dead animal, was the bag, which I had forgotten to strap up when I put it back after filling up at Nesna. That I am writing this now is testament to my Macbook passing the drop test.

Our final crossing, from Kilboghann to Jektvik  







saw us cross the Arctic Circle, marked by a globe on the shore. In four days' time, I hope to be by the larger globe monument at the North Cape.



Tonight, we are in a cottage at Jektvik. What a contrast with yesterday's noisy hotel. All I can hear is birdsong, and this is the dreadful view that I have from the verandah table at which I am typing this while listening to Mozart, glass of Sicilian (see below) to hand.


It is 9.35 pm, and dusk lasts a long time in these parts. You can see the sun going down, but it will stay there for a couple of hours or more. Sunset 00.47. Sunrise 01.19. Tomorrow, with another early departure to catch the Lofoten ferry for a special round of golf, they will coincide at 01.33.

The cottage has 5G wi fi, the first time I have tried it, and it goes like a train. Instant multiple photo downloads, for example.

By the way, while I was in Trondheim, I visited one of the impressively smart branches of Vinmonopolet, the Norwegian Government's alcohol outlets. While beer is freely available, outside bars and restaurants one has to buy wines and spirits through the monopoly, and there are shops in every town. As good a selection as one would expect from the largest British supermarket (no real 'Specials') and not as crazily expensive as I had been led to expect. I bought two bottles of a Sicilian Nero D'Avola, for which I might pay £14 at home, for £21. In a Norwegian restaurant, I would expect to be charged around £50 each.

So while the nearest wine outlet must be many a mile from this secluded spot, I have a bottle for tonight.


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

18 June - Hammerfest to Lakselv. 250 miles

Image
We made it. Well, not strictly. I made it. The Toad, sadly, could not get all the way. Having arranged - or so I thought - to drive right up to the globe monument that is meant to mark 71 degrees north, permission was denied by the Visitor Centre. So Toad had to wait outside.  Was it worth it? To be honest, not really. Many feel Nordkapp is a bit of an anticlimax. It is a 1000 ft high cliff, and that's about it.  But it is symbolic - the northernmost point of mainland Europe. Except that it is not. It is not on the mainland but on an island connected to the rest of Norway by a five mile tunnel that runs almost 700 ft under the sea. And it is not the most northerly point anyway: that accolade belongs to a headland just to the west that is only accessible by hikers but is around a kilometre further north. And the true mainland northernmost point is 80km east. Somewhere a long way over on the other side lies Russia. That's an exciting photo. Bu
Read more

17 June - Tromso to Hammerfest. 274 miles

Image
I am rather chuffed. Today I finally got in to the R&A. But more of that later. Two fjord crossings would take us to Alta, a nodal point in the far north, and we would then turn north to Hammerfest. I saw these outside the next door room this morning. I would be somewhat surprised if the SmartHotel Tromso offers a boot cleaning service (I thought that leaving one's shoes outside for cleaning was a thing of the distant past) but perhaps the owners of these trainers felt they needed a good going over with Cherry Blossom and a fine buff. I hate to think of the depravities that went on in that room. The day was sunny but cool, turning decidedly chilly when we got into the tundra. Shortly after leaving Tromso, we took the two linked crossings from Breivikeidet and then Lyngseidet, a shorter and more attractive route than following the main road. There are worse places to wait for a ferry to arrive. And here are some shots on board. Then it was s
Read more

20 June - Pello to Jyvaskyla. 366 miles

Image
What didn't happen today? Just about everything. It is 06.30 and the locals are already on the gambling machines at the charming motel that I was crass enough to book for last night. There are six machines and five are occupied. The route, like yesterday's was straight down the main road south. We planned to stop at Jyvaskyla, which I felt was at the limit of our stamina for the day. I suppose we could have pushed it the final 160-odd miles to Helsinki, but old men wear out fast. What a boring drive. In Norway, it was visual treats at every turn. Finland may have its wonders, but not along the E75. Just trees, trees, trees. An occasional field, almost always uncultivated (we have not seen any sign of agriculture thus far). No Reindeer. Actually, we did not see a living thing. Even stopping for roadworks brought on a frisson. Three lakes. Here is one of them. Brace yourselves. What else? Oh yes - they like simple, pithy place names here.
Read more