A week in Norway via Germany and Denmark May 2011

[obliquepanic]

Inspired by some others on this site and having a conference to go to in Odense, I decided to ride over then take a free week I had to investigate Norway. Here's the notes I made.


2nd May in my cabin on the stenna Hollandica, the multi-million new ship built only last year for this route from Harwich to Hoek van Holland and back. I managed to take a wrong turn even before I left Cambridge and then got bizarre messages from my GPS. Nevertheless I know the way here well by now. Its such a beautiful twisty route to Harwich from Cambridge and I always seem to take it on sunny late afternoons on the way to catch this ferry. I arrived among the first dozen vehicles and got chatting to a German woman from Hamburg travelling with her husband.

<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/obliquepanic/5722439745/" title="IMG_4907 by obliquepanic, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5014/5722439745_4346f5b5ce.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="IMG_4907"></a>


I like the way that these trips open up brief conversations with strangers. Then a couple of cyclists ask us where they can buy tickets. Its sunny but so windy and I retreat into the strange cabin staffed by a few machines only where I buy tea for £1.40 and eat the first of my stash of muesli bars and shelter from the wind. A fellow with a bicycle asks for my help putting the wheel back on and later we ask eachother to take pictures of ourselves next to our various two-wheeled modes of transport.

<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/obliquepanic/5762492637/" title="IMG_0297 by obliquepanic, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5104/5762492637_8d06dc54b4.jpg" width="375" height="500" alt="IMG_0297"></a>

Two Polish guys (one just visible in the picture above) on big bikes arrive but dont seem to want to talk much though they offer to shake hands with me. They are riding all the way back to Poland tomorrow. I can’t believe it. After waiting for hours in the cold, so cold I wait with my helmet on, we ride up the spiral ramp to the boat. When we get level with the boat I look up and the enormous mouth that takes us in. I wish I had been able to film this enormous entry. We tie down the bikes praying they are still upright at the end of the journey and jostle my way up the elevator to my deck and stagger into my room and drop my bags and helmet on the floor. I look in the mirror and smile. So far so good, no self-doubt, no boredom. This will be a new kind of trip for me. Lets see whether Norway’s wild camping and beautiful sites offers something that the crowded, mobile home filled sites of Germany and southern Europe don’t. Tomorrow is a bit of a ride though, but not that daunting if I break it into two 2 hour slots with another hour on the end. I will be tired by the end of it for sure but intrigued by the Hollenstedter Hof hotel. I’ve stayed in two so called biker hotels in Germany. One I found awful (the dinner was ghastly) and the other was very pleasant.

Its already ten past ten UK time that’s 10 past 11 tomorrow’s time. So suddenly its time to prepare to get my head down.

The boat had two coaches with Czech number plates full of Asian passengers. ‘Will all the Indian people who have not yet eaten, please go to the restaurant’ – that’s what the Dutch lady announced.

Day 1 Home - Harwich 68 miles, moving time 1 hr 50 minutes, average 40.0mph, max speed 70mph

(the three main ferries - Harwich to HvH, Hirtshals to Kristiansand and back, and Esbjerg to Harwich and the one hotel night near Hamburg came to about £500.)

Next day coming in a moment...

 

[obliquepanic]

Day 2: Hoek van Holland to Hamburg to Fynshav

Hoek van Holland to Hamburg to Fynshav


3rd May Phew today was tiring as expected. Just over 300 miles from the Hoek to here, about 25 miles south of Hamburg. I arrived at about 3.30 or so. These ‘biker hotels’ are an enigma. They market themselves in this way, and even have some bike mags around but everyone is so unbikerish and uninterested in my travels or in putting Bertha away for the night that I genuinely began to think I had turned up at the wrong hotel. After fussing about for a while in this strangely shaped room in a hotel that looks beautiful from the front but inside looks and smells as if nearly a hundred years of continuous smoking are being disguised by doses of air freshener, I crawled under the contienental pancake duvet and fell asleep, feeling a bit feverish but perhaps its just tiredness. Last night I slept poorly, I woke with my heart pounding in panic that the ship would capsize, the sea seemed rough and horizontal with my eyes closed I could feel every movement, both the regular ones and the sudden shocks. Once asleep I dreamed that I was constantly battling to keep people out of my room. A stream of young people wanted to come in first to sleep and then as the dream wore on to use my room as an art resource room. I swore at them viciously but they took no notice. At 6.30 the Ddutch woman woke us all up and I got vertical and made my way on the still rolling ship to one of the bars where I paid about £7 for two coffees and a dried croissant with 5 mls of disgusting jelly passing for jam.

Preparing my bike to go once on the car deck a man came out of nowhere and asked me where I was going. Norway – eventually I replied. Wow, he said, I feel jealous. These are the nicest moments. The ride for the first few hours was freezing and I was shivering on the bike and eventually pulled into a service station and had a strange bacon and egg and cheeze and mustard roll and a hot coffee. I put on more layers and soldiered on. Eventually I crossed into Germany which seemed to take an age this time. The ride on the A1 (the aah einz) was uneventful apart from seeing the results of a huge two lorry crash on the other carriage way with the fire brigde in attendance and a long and quickly growing tailback. I am so glad it wasn’t my side.

<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/obliquepanic/5763083500/" title="map1 by obliquepanic, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2687/5763083500_6e1c116d14.jpg" width="500" height="330" alt="map1"></a>

So now I am here, showered and with my socks washed, plucking up courage to go down and sample the food. This place markets itself as quite a restaurant with an impressive wine cellar and home to lovely beers, so lets see if it really is. On asking the apron clad waitress for a table for one I was responded to with wide eyed and speechless shock as if the last thing she expected was someone wanting to dine here. I notice she has a plaster over a vein in her forearm and conclude that doctors have been taking blood trying to work out why she is so stupid. However the rest of the meal went well and I was served a tasty schnitzel washed down with two glasses of refreshing beer, followed by more gifts from Mien Host who inquired about my journey to Norway which he must have remembered from my booking. I ended the evening in the car park, now crowded with the smart cars of the well heeled and middle aged diners, smoking a cigarette leaning against Bertha who is waiting for me to continue north tomorrow via Hamburg to Odense. I am so tired despite my earlier sleep and my muscles in my forearms are already beginning to ache.

Pictures of Bertha in Hamburg and waiting for the ferry from Fynshav to Bjoden in Denmark:

<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/obliquepanic/5722440391/" title="IMG_4909 by obliquepanic, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2530/5722440391_fa35651b72.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="IMG_4909"></a>

<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/obliquepanic/5722441197/" title="IMG_4913 by obliquepanic, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2728/5722441197_06d2a05e97.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="IMG_4913"></a>

<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/obliquepanic/5762538061/" title="5 by obliquepanic, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5028/5762538061_19ddb8f97d.jpg" width="500" height="341" alt="5"></a>

Day 2: 304 miles, moving ave 52.1mph, max speed 84.7mph, moving time 6hrs 30mins

 

[davidgibson999]

Nice start. Keep it coming.

 

[obliquepanic]

Day 3 - 6 First few days in Norway

May 9th finally I get to sit down on a bench and write.

The ferry from the top of Denmark, Hirtshals, to the bottom of Norway, Kristiansand, was uncomfortable and seemed full of drunk men. There seemed to be no women at all on the boat. In fact somehow, since my early rise from the motel in Odense and the 200 mile ride north, I haven't been able to get comfortable on the bike or off it. Watching the cars and trucks drive off ColorLine's sweetly named SuperSpeed, as we all waited, it seemed as if a huge carpark of vehicles had disgorged itself from an infinitely large ship. Luckily they waved me on with the trucks. I'd sooner be with them that the hoards of cars, all trying to overtake eachother on the ramp up to the car deck.

<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/obliquepanic/5723322557/" title="Awaiting the ferry to Kristiansand by obliquepanic, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3345/5723322557_b081878306.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="Awaiting the ferry to Kristiansand"></a>

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Here's a picture from the first campsite, a couple of hours ride pretty much along the coast west from Kristiansand, no one there to welcome new arrivers and still I was the only tent in the midsts of these big white mobile homes, and someone turning on senseless heavy metal for an hour late in the evening. I felt like thumping them.

<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/obliquepanic/5723327293/" title="IMG_4959 by obliquepanic, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5308/5723327293_850632611a.jpg" width="375" height="500" alt="IMG_4959"></a>

<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/obliquepanic/5723328827/" title="Campsite 1 in Norway by obliquepanic, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2301/5723328827_a51bec2c02.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="Campsite 1 in Norway"></a>

I’m writing this in a campsite called Lone camping which is about 15 miles north east of Bergen. (Lone is not the word that first comes to mind.) Its my third campsite in Norway. They are mixed events. There is usually one view which is stunning (the one that gets into the camping book) but invariably another which is the back of a petrol station – as here. Look one way and I see Bertha with a mountain, the snow melting behind her. Look the other and its huge trucks refuelling and pumping up their tyres and a fast main road. But enough of the criticism. A kind Norwegian man in the campsite pictured above came over when he saw the bike and gave me some recommendations in terms of routes from where I stayed on the first night here, at Flekkefjord, which was a couple of hours from Kristiansand where the ferry docked up to Stavanger. He said ‘Perhaps there are too many mountains, even for an Englishman’. (He was sweet, he said "I cannot read your map properly as I have forgotten my umbrella".) And he was right, there were deep blue lakes, hairpin bends both the going up and going down variety, tunnels and amazing views over the sea.

<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/obliquepanic/5723331913/" title="IMG_4962 by obliquepanic, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3295/5723331913_877f57ed79.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="IMG_4962"></a>

<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/obliquepanic/5723333395/" title="IMG_4967 by obliquepanic, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3345/5723333395_a573daa27a.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="IMG_4967"></a>

Riding here is effortlessly stunning. And the Norwegians must know it. There are lay-bys exactly where you would want to pull off and admire the view. (I wish the fat man on the sit-on lawnmower would go away).

Some things are perfect. The weather for example. So far beautiful blue skies with a temperature of about 18 during the day, dropping down to about 12 – 14 in the evening. The roads, and the bike is performing well. Now for the bad and good news. Journeying up the coast involves taking ferries, two so far. On the first from just north of Stavanger to Skudenshaven, I left Bertha unsecured. There were none of the usual straps that you find on the big ferries and I thought this is only a short trip so perhaps they don’t tie down the bikes. As we proceeded the sea got rougher and the boat dived and rose. Up on the sun deck I thought, well if Bertha falls there will be plenty of people on hand to help. Then when we arrived i went down to the car deck and breathed a sigh of relief to see her still upright. But when I got close to her I could see that she’d been damaged and someone had set her straight again. I started her up, checked the indicators and lights and all seemed well but something on the handlebars did not look right, but I started off, then I realised that a mirror was missing. I went back and found it lying on the floor under a bulwark. I remonstrated with one man and then another but they continually told it it was my responsibility to look after her. ‘Hey, bad luck, man’ the manager said in parting. A campsite was nearby and it was about 6pm on Sunday. Unlike most more southern European campsites, no one seems to be ready to greet you here. On Sunday there was just a number to ring posted up on the door of the reception. On ringing it a small girl gave me another number to call, eventually summoning a woman who took my money and told me about a mechanics, just 200 metres up the road that I could visit in the morning to see if they could fix my mirror. This was number two campsite. Just me and a couple of guys in a mobile home, and a petrol station. I was fuming at Norway. My argument about the bike was going through my head over and over again. Added to that there was a fierce wind, so it was impossible just to sit and unwind. And on the gravel where I parked lay a squashed children's toy car - it embodied my feelings.

<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/obliquepanic/5723335175/" title="this broken car an image for my heart by obliquepanic, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5296/5723335175_d3c39c6a94.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="this broken car an image for my heart"></a>

In the morning I headed off to the mechanics. I talked to one man then another who come out to where I had parked Bertha, spoke quietly and with an effortless can-do approach. With some grips he unscrewwed the stump of the broken part then he went off and welded it back together, commenting that the mirror was fixed onto the bike, for some (German) reason with a left handed thread. He brought back the perfectly welded part and screwed it back on – as if it had never been broken. We spoke quietly about riding bikes and ‘Norwegian miles’ which are 10 kilometres apparently. ‘So how much do I owe you?’ I asked. A brief conversation in Norwegian between them then – ‘its nothing’. It was fixed for free (I couldnt believe it) and in a way the net effect of the whole event was positive. I went back to the campsite and made another coffee, ate my lovely Danish marzipans and headed off.

Lovely roads including a fantastic long a dark tunnel, amazing bridges and beautiful views, including the first snow-capped mountains I have seen on this trip. I just made a ferry up to Bergen and drove straight on. This time I parked up right against a rail and used the ropes they casually leave there. (That's what they are for.) But you could stay with your vehicle so I sat glued to Bertha this time, but the journey was calm.

<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/obliquepanic/5723890990/" title="IMG_4976 by obliquepanic, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5147/5723890990_1070ca3383.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="IMG_4976"></a>

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And now, after missing my turning, I am at this campsite. I feel there is something cynical about running it from the petrol station with two young rather uninterested boys selling petrol and telling you where you can’t park or put up a tent (anywhere that is remotely nice) but not bothering to tell you that you need to buy tokens if you want to use the showers. With some lateral thinking I’ve found an ok spot. The sun is still warm and the breeze has dropped. There are a couple of tents over the way but I have defied possibility and parked near to where I have put up my tent. There is even a picnic bench right next to the tent, where I am sitting in comfort at last, typing up my diary. I dropped in at Spar over the other side of the main road before arriving and bought some steak, onions, mushrooms and olive oil. I’m a little tired of my dehydrated food. I’ve also got a couple of beers at a not too exorbitant price for all that. The sun will set early tonight as it disappears behind the mountain over to the west. There are some ominous clouds up here. Its time to start chopping and frying.

<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/obliquepanic/5723337725/" title="IMG_4980 by obliquepanic, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5174/5723337725_3f95386e8c.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="IMG_4980"></a>

 

[obliquepanic]

May 11th Wednesday

The night of my meat feast it rained and rained keeping me awake most of the night. I felt rather gloomy yesterday morning but remembered the advice of a Norwegian biker on this site to travel East, away from the coast, to avoid the rains which, as I saw on a satelite film, do come in from the south west. After taking a coffee and delicious cake in the cafe near the campsite, I rolled up my wet tent and packed up. In fact by the time I did pack up it had stopped raining though the sky was extremely heavy and the waitress said that it would stay wet all day.

<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/obliquepanic/5723892694/" title="IMG_4982 by obliquepanic, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5017/5723892694_31e9b4d75a.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="IMG_4982"></a>

<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/obliquepanic/5723893288/" title="IMG_4984 by obliquepanic, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3228/5723893288_e12fbb3408.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="IMG_4984"></a>

I wore my hi visibility vest with its Salvation Army price tag still on but didn't put on wet weather gear that makes you feel like Mr Balloon man. It was a lovely 40 miles or so, some of it next to the train track, up to Voss, quite a pretty town where I had another coffee and another pastry, not quite so nice this time. Norwegians seem to be relaxed, quiet, with nothing to prove, helpful when need be. I took a closer look at the welding the mechanic had done on my mirror fixing and am amazed at the neat job. After many lovely long tunnels and a very short ferry trip from Brusevik over the fjord (I sat on Bertha all the way) I rode down to Kinsarvik where, after a moment of panic thinking I had a flat tyre after riding the gravelly road at some roadworks (and the previous panic about the engine smelling really hot when I stopped - because it was covered with rain and dirt from the road), I parked up. I had noticed two campsites next to eachother just out of town and was determined to stay somewhere good this time. I walked passed the first four star establishment with its archery targets and cabins going up to a much humbler place with space for about 10 caravans or tents. A builder told me the man in charge was down in his cabin. I walked down and knocked on the door getting no reply, then again where a bearded rather elderly man welcomed me enthusiastically and engaged me in german conversation. At last this was the kind of hospitality I had been hoping for, and the site is a gem, albeit a slightly unkempt one.

<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/obliquepanic/5723895956/" title="IMG_4990 by obliquepanic, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2692/5723895956_279c3dae88.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="IMG_4990"></a>

<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/obliquepanic/5723901700/" title="IMG_4994 by obliquepanic, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2581/5723901700_24761639de.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="IMG_4994"></a>

(that flag isn't on my bike - its on the hut)
My tent is about 6 feet from the beautiful Sorfjorden, that does actually connect to the North Sea as some Norwegians also staying here told me when I asked where all the fast flowing water goes to.

I walked back, picked up dinner (more meat vegetables and beer) and rode back down here. Later in the evening the manager (he is not the owner who lives in Oslo) invited me into their cabin for tea with his wife. She was rather formal like my German step-grandmother but he was enthusiastic, telling me how frustrating it was that he could not speak English. We burbled away. He told me he used to own three BMW motorbikes, but stopped as the bikes started to get too big. They spend just 6 weeks here if I understood right and are from Osnabruck in northern Germany. Needless to say, I’m staying here one more night. I plan to stay at Lilesund which looks to be half way back to Kristiansand and the last night, Friday, I will stay in what seems to be a campsite right in the town, almost within view of the ferry terminal where my boat back to the top of Denmark leaves at 8 on Saturday morning – but I am wishing my time away. Even though the weather was beautiful (till it rained – but even that was only at night – I have never ridden in the rain here so far) its only here that I have got in to the spot I was hoping for.

The simple pleasures – this morning I had a hot shower and washed my clothes from which steam arose in the cold morning air on the line here. I’ve had one lovely coffee and marzipan cake from Odense (I have one left). The ferry goes back and forth all day up the fjord and back to just around the corner from here where you can’t see it dock. I have the feeling I will take a day off from riding. The weather is perfect again.

<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/obliquepanic/5723347977/" title="IMG_4998 by obliquepanic, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5130/5723347977_b28b748ea8.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="IMG_4998"></a>

<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/obliquepanic/5723904036/" title="IMG_4999 by obliquepanic, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2297/5723904036_dcf080c3cd.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="IMG_4999"></a>

Miles 196.5 Ave. speed 46.5 Max speed 84.3 Hours riding 4.25 May 4 Hollenstedt - Odense
Miles 272.2 Ave. speed 53.6 Max speed 84.1 5.1 May 5 Odense - Hirtshals- Norway
Miles 107 Ave. speed 34.7 Max speed 67.9 3.1 5/8/2011 S. Norway to N Stavanger

 

[obliquepanic]

From Kinsarvik down the Rv9 to Evje

12th May. After a rest day I spent reading The Devils (its complicated but engrossing) I set off this morning with heavy skies. I got an early start as the campsite was closing for a harmonica festival which was going to take it over for a week. (I am not making this up). I got a good start down to a town called Odda still on the same fjord as Kinsarvik, had a quick stroll round then pressed on.

<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/obliquepanic/5723354479/" title="IMG_5007 by obliquepanic, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2178/5723354479_1b515ee813.jpg" width="375" height="500" alt="IMG_5007"></a>

The road climbed upwards and it started to rain, a kind of wet rain (yes, I know all rain is wet). Somewhere I pulled off the road and performed the bizarre getting into a rainsuit wearing enormous enduro boots kind of dance while it is pissing down and while everything is getting wet.

<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/obliquepanic/5723355029/" title="raining on the Rv 9 by obliquepanic, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3483/5723355029_8c5e9deb5f.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="raining on the Rv 9"></a>

Once attired I headed off with rain on my visor and really going slower because I can’t see that much with the raindrops and steam. The road got higher and soon there is thick snow everywhere, of a dirty kind, then ice by the side of the road turning slightly green and beginning to melt – rain, snow and ice and the occasional waterfall throwing spray into the road- there was no shortage of water today.

<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/obliquepanic/5723355899/" title="IMG_5010 by obliquepanic, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5147/5723355899_cac08ab620.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="IMG_5010"></a>

<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/obliquepanic/5723910954/" title="up on the Rv 9 by obliquepanic, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5014/5723910954_6ce59e542e.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="up on the Rv 9"></a>

But as I realised here, you just need to move to the other side of some mountains and the weather changes. My route joined the road called Rv9 (and of course I starting singing ‘Highway Nine’ or whatever the country and western song is called - 'Gulf Coast Highway' - is it a Willie nelson song?). Things changed. Its a long road that goes south down all the way to Kristiansand and I could have just kept going but that would leave me with a problem for tomorrow which is my last day here.

<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/obliquepanic/5723358305/" title="IMG_5013 by obliquepanic, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3487/5723358305_79de30930a.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="IMG_5013"></a>

My choices were the ‘funny’ road to Lysebotn described in loving detail by a Norweigian biker ‘the funniest part is at the end’ or to head down for a campsite near the Rv9. I plugged in Lysebotn into the GPS and zoomed in on the road – just as I thought a tangle of blood vessels of hairpins that folded over on themselves increadibly tightly and countlessly, lovely for some riders but really scary for me, the rider who has not done a U turn since his test and whose heart is in his mouth on the haripins on ‘ordinary’ roads – let alone the narrow ‘funny’ roads. I thought it was going to be a tough choice whether to rise to the challenge or bottle out but in the end there was no way I was going to put myself through it. I pressed on down the 9. (Sorry guys.)

By now I am feeling a little used to the beauty that is everywhere here. ‘Even’ the 9 is stunning, its whole length seems to be by a beautiful lake, with pine trees rising on the other side to high mountains, the occasional tunnel (how I like tunnels - though damp and smelling like the cellar of the house I grew up in, it does not rain in them). The first campsite whose co ordinates I put into the GPS seemed to have vanished (did I mention that the list of all Norwegian campsite coordinates that I imported from the Internet seemed to have become deranged – they all have been relocated to the Indian Ocean? Honestly. So now I am sitting in the humid sunshine of the first four star campsite I have visited.

<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/obliquepanic/5723913566/" title="Norway camping brrr by obliquepanic, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5175/5723913566_e2beefdeef.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="Norway camping brrr"></a>

I wait to see how much it costs in the morning as the people running it only seem to put in a brief appearance between 10 and 11am. (It was cheaper than the 3 star site I stayed in previously) Its also by a lake and has swish washing and washing up facilities and is large and generally populated with white campervans but there is enough space not to feel surrounded and again a lovely view over a slightly more domesticated lake. I’ve chosen some routes from the MC maps I've been carrying so will cruise my way down and by indirections find directions out to Kristiansand where I will bite the bullet and camp in the 4 star site apparently in the middle of town or at least very close to the ferry terminal where I need to be at least by 7.30am on saturday.

Though not quite finished it has been an interesting time. To think I bought the first three maps of Norway taking you up to Tromso. I’ve not moved out of the area covered by the first and been amazed at the scenery, the quality of the roads and their emptiness. I’ve had the whole width of the 9 nearly the whole time I have been on it. Perhaps Norway is another country, like Slovakia, that I think about coming back to some day and ‘doing properly’. Here it would mean having a definite plan and timetable to reach the top, to much visited Nordkap. The trouble is, to get here you either drive 500 miles just to arrive at the bottom of the country via Germany and Denmark or you pay over £300 to take the ferry to Esbjerg and still need to ride for a couple of hundred miles then take the ferry up to Kristiansand. Its quite an expedition but one worth thinking about. But like other major trips I think about, it would be ideal to do it in a small group. Its hard to keep up morale when you get caught up in your own thoughts and doubts about the trip. Hmmm. Something to think about.

Total miles 199.5 Average speed 41.4mph Fastest 69.7mph Riding time 4.75 hours 5/12/2011 Kinsarvik-Evje

 

[obliquepanic]

To Kristiansand, then Denmark, Esbjerg and home

13th May This is the last full day of riding. Last evening a red bearded young man arrived on a bicycle, pulling a trailer with an Ortieb bag. He set up near me and we talked. He is from a German town near the Czech border and is riding to Iceland and around Norway, riding till September I think he said.

<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/obliquepanic/5723915294/" title="German cyclist by obliquepanic, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3424/5723915294_ba75fc4978.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="German cyclist"></a>

We were both traveling down to Kristiansand that day – its about 60k but his work was cut out to cycle there, for me it meant going an extremely roundabout route. At the end of the day I had ridden 150miles. I won't detail the routes I took but I don’t think there is a boring road in Norway, apart from when I found myself on the main roads by the coast. A downpour there had me retreating into a conveniently placed shopping centre for hot chocolate and a chicken roll. Afterwards my GPS wanted to take me straight into Kristiansand and given that I was soggy I was tempted to call an end to my travels and head straight for the campsite ‘near’ or so I thought to the ferry terminal for tomorrow’s early boat. As it happened I persisted in searching for one final enjoyable route. I have to conclude that Norway is an ideal country for a motorcycling trip. Finding the campsite took ages and the GPS (more about that later) sent me in mad directions, but by 3.30 I pulled into a swanky site in mid refurbishment into something of stellar quality. Some of it was already done. Everything is going to work by a card which happy campers charge up and swipe to use the stove or the shower but not thankfully to flush the toilet. The toilet and shower block was astonishing with slate floors, leather sofas and beautiful sinks though they are far too small and the incredible number of spotlights seem to stay on permanently (how easy it might have been to install movement sensors).

<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/obliquepanic/5723917500/" title="Kristiansand campsite by obliquepanic, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5070/5723917500_1fa839ec14.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="Kristiansand campsite"></a>

The site was actually 11k from the ferry terminal and I got meticulous directions from the woman at reception, then checked on my map, then checked again on the GPS. I did not want to miss the boat. I set my alarm for 5.45 but in the event I was awake before then – it got light long before – and set up packing up my damp tent and other belongings. I rolled out of the campsite by 6.15, passed around the barrier and, not getting lost this time, was checked in at the Colorline terminal by 20 to 7.

<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/obliquepanic/5723918214/" title="SuperSpeed what a cute name by obliquepanic, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3242/5723918214_8cc20a8a0d.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="SuperSpeed what a cute name"></a>

Having learnt from the last trip up to Norway on the boat I found myself a comfortable seat, with my book (The Devils) and a supply of food which you have to hide from the food and drink police who are employed to tell people off if they are eating their own food on board or have taken drinks onto the deck. Sitting next to me were 12 or so highly international students, from a Bible college it turns out in Norway, who had a free trip on the ferry. I talked at length to James from Zambia about this and that. He was very earnest. Its easy to imagine him as a Christian. They seemed a nice bunch but without irony.

Once off the boat I headed down the E25 and the four hours or so to Esbjerg to catch my 8th ferry of this trip, the final one and the longest back to Harwich, arriving Sunday. On route it suddenly poured and I pulled off to a deserted picnic area and struggled into my waterproof suit as I was getting wet and cold. It took about 10 minutes to get into and by that time the weather was already improving. However, the screen on my GPS which I had damaged last year by dropping it started to let in water between its two skins. It has guided me back to Esbjerg but despite trying to dry it out with the hair dyryer in my cabin (how nice it is to have a bed and a shower and somewhere to sit) the screen seems to have had it and I can't get today’s stats from it.

Waiting for the ferry were a bunch of people with bikes, a couple riding a Honda Gold Wing and two men from Denmark on their way to Scotland, one on a lovely bright yellow Laverda which he maintains getting scarce parts from a specialist dealer in Koln and the other on a vintage v twin Honda.

<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/obliquepanic/5723366295/" title="IMG_5032 by obliquepanic, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5061/5723366295_11028cd0af.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="IMG_5032"></a>

One of them riding a 1994 BMW k1100, the others told me was a man ‘with no hobbies’ so when he was 60 learnt to ride, now he’s 62, and rather large, a friendly slightly bumbling giant wearing a high vis vest stretched extremely tightly over his jacket. Another man, a Brit who runs a bike courier company in London rode a 1200gs which he has had a few surprising and expensive problems with. The more I talk to bikers the more I see that they get into scrapes with their bikes i.e. being stuck half way up a curb on a street in London and having to wait for a passer by to help them move, or having to be careful about wear to park because they know they can’t move the bike backwards or up an incline. So its not just me.

There were also two (separate) eccentric cyclists, one from Denmark with a big mustache completely coving his mouth, a battered Tasmanian hat, smoking a pipe which he repeatedly appeared to put,, still lit into his trouser pocket.

<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/obliquepanic/5723919346/" title="Danish cyclist by obliquepanic, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5025/5723919346_622b53a3a8.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="Danish cyclist"></a>

He plans visiting Oxford and Cambridge (pubs he says – and Oxford because he is a fan of inspector Morse) and another man who is originally from New Zealand but has been working in Denmark for many years. He said he was in his sixties and he appeared to be wearing make up. How different this bunch of enthusiasts and eccentrics is to the other – or some of the other – travellers. On the stairwell I just overheard a bunch of retired Brits comparing notes about exotic places in the world they have been to, ‘Fiji, been there done that’ one of them said, describing how they stayed on a gated compound.

These ferries seem to wage war on passengers bringing their own food and drink (which is the obvious thing to do as prices are hugely inflated). On this ship there are signs everywhere and on ColorLine they have their own security people who go round telling people off. There seems a trend in accommodation nowadays to once you’ve got people in, and they have already paid for entry, then milk them for as many extras that you might consider should come as part as what you’ve paid for. So these ships seem designed so that every public space is a restaurant or bar and in posh campsites every facility, including wifi sometimes, seems to require an extra charge. It seems the cheaper campsites often just don’t bother with the extra trouble of setting up systems for paying – so wifi was nearly always free for example.

I am on deck 6, level with the cars and in fact only 15 feet away from poor Bertha. The captain has come on and told us we are in for a rough night -which is unusual. This time tomorrow I will be plunged in to going through the backlog of work emails and preparing for another conference.

We’re on the home stretch now on this Sunday morning, with the coast of Suffolk (I’m sure that is the white dome of some power station) in sight as we sail slowly down it. Its a bright day though there are clouds in the sky. It was a quite rough night as the captain warned us and again I could not sleep much. With every lurch my heart was in my mouth. First I thought we might capsize, then when we failed to do that, I worried about Bertha and whether I had secured her properly. This is something some of the others have said they worry about.

<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/obliquepanic/5723369075/" title="Sky before a stormy night by obliquepanic, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2758/5723369075_bb6352c405.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="Sky before a stormy night"></a>

<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/obliquepanic/5723923822/" title="Giraffe at Harwich by obliquepanic, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5122/5723923822_20a6828bc4.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="Giraffe at Harwich"></a>

Reflections: What worked well: having some dehydrated food so that I didn’t have to find a shop if I turned up at a remote campsite; when I did buy meat or fish locally to cook it was delicious; having a really toasty sleeping bag helped me get a good night’s sleep in quite chilly climates; generally all the camping equipment worked well; the overall route and timescale was just right; nearly all roads in Norway are stunningly beautiful; taking a waterproof suit was a great idea; fitting extra lights paid dividends for the long dark tunnels; the BMW bike gear was good – not too hot and reasonably waterproof even without the liners; I had two really good books. What didn’t work so well: some campsites in Norway were set in surprisingly ugly settings, i.e. next to big petrol stations and there was no one there to welcome you – or sell you shower tokens; learning that the bits of old rope hanging around on Norwegian ferries are to tether your motorcycle; I was optimistic in how far north I would get – I only needed one of the three maps I took; I never used the wire mesh Pack Safe nor the water carrier nor the Ortlieb folding bowl nor the mosquito headnet.

<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/obliquepanic/5723924624/" title="Daisies welcome me home by obliquepanic, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3119/5723924624_777a6d2e84.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="Daisies welcome me home"></a>

Miles Moving ave Max speed Time riding Date Route
68 40 75 1.75 May 2 Home - Harwich
304 52.1 84.7 6.5 May 3 Hoek - Hollenstedt
196.5 46.5 84.3 4.25 may 4 Hollenstedt - Odense
272.2 53.6 84.1 5.1 May 5 Odense - Hirtshals- Kristiansand-Flekkefjord
107 34.7 67.9 3.1 5/8/2011 Flekkefjord-Skudenshaven
106.5 31.2 65.1 3.24 5/9/2011 Skudenshaven-Bergen
87 38.7 65.8 2.25 5/10/2011 Bergen-Kinsarvik
199.5 41.4 69.7 4.75 5/12/2011 Kinsarvik-Evje
150.6 37.3 72.3 4.02 13th May Evje-Kristiansand
220.1 57.8 84.7 3.48 14th May Kristiansand to Esbjerg
67.2 40 77 1.75 15th May Harwich to home
Totals

Miles: 1710.6 Average speed: 43.3 mph Total riding time 40.19 hours

 

[Mr K]

 

[MacFarlane]

So did you enjoy yourself then?

 

[AdamA]

Nice report.

Re the camp sites, why bother if they cause undue stress?
If it's a nice one then stay, if its not so nice move on and find somewhere far better to stop. You don't need a commercial site every night, surely?
You can camp anywhere that isn't a garden or farmed land. Staying only on sites means you miss out on some absolutely stunning places to while away a few hours...

No ugly gas stations behind any of these shots I can assure you.

 

[Taff]

Brilliant. I enjoyed that.

 

[obliquepanic]

You're dead right. I should have. It was funny though. Maybe the way I wrote it up sounds like it was a big downer - not one bit. I was being a a bit tongue in cheek with most of the criticism. The places in your photos look fantastic though.

 

[doyle]

Glad you wrote the 'tongue in cheek part' As i had thought what a complaining *UNT! I would'nt like him as a travelling companion.

 

[obliquepanic]

Glad you wrote the 'tongue in cheek part' As i had thought what a complaining *UNT! I would'nt like him as a travelling companion.

YES! it was meant to be funny. Oh dear

 

[AdamA]

Glad you wrote the 'tongue in cheek part' As i had thought what a complaining *UNT! I would'nt like him as a travelling companion.

LOL

 

[roadrider]

Enjoyed reading that

 

[Ash]

cracking read

 

[CuzGS]

Thanks for taking the trouble to post. nice trip, I managed to get to Stavanger last year in May then had camera nicked so only have a few iphone shots

Also made a dirty dash to Alps and Monaco in Oct Last, I enjoyed yours so will put a blog for that up.

I managed Stavanger last May, first campsite in Sira was utterly gorgeous, the next in Algard was next to (5m )a 70s build petrol station.

With hindsight Adam is right, should have rode until ready and camped as required, certainly loads of opportunities to, guess i just got a bit "itinerised" as it were.

 

[AdamA]

With hindsight Adam is right, should have rode until ready and camped as required, certainly loads of opportunities to, guess i just got a bit "itinerised" as it were.

Easy to do though isn't it? Its such a BIG country and there's so many places you want to make sure you get to see that you feel compelled to stick to a plan if you are to pack it all in to a few short days...

We had a route planned and nothing else really. No set miles to do a day or a place to aim for (except one night in Trondheim and the ferry back to Denmark) each night. It meant we could do as little or as much as we wanted, but at some stage we would either have to play catch up for a day or cut the route short if we weren't doing enough miles.

We ended up doing enough miles a day naturally to cover the distance but for one LONG day where we ended up riding to midnight, but that was down to a lack of ferry meaning the long way round had to be taken more than us not comfortably managing the miles. We found that we could ride longer days due to the extra daylight as long as we took plenty of breaks (nice long lunch and again for an evening meal somewhere on route) and lots of "scenery breaks". Just kept going till we found somewhere that suited to stop for the night. Mostly above the tree line and below the snow line, meaning it was mosquito/midge free, and if that wasn't possible a Hytte makes things more comfortable, for no more than a campsite.