With many a winding turn, that leads to who knows where. Who knows where. But I’m strong. Strong enough to carry it. It ain’t heavy, it’s my trailer.
Ok, serenading my trailer is a bit excessive but other than in gears one and twenty seven it is behaving quite well. So don’t knock it if it works.
We last left our intrepid hero in Namsos and it has been a long and winding road. The main highways are very busy now, so we departed ways at Route 720 and I have been winging it since then.
My planned 3-day ride to Trondheim became a 2-day ride when my target turned out to have closed and it was 30km later before I found a camping spot. The smell of seaweed had been replaced by the smell of dung as the land became more suited to farming, though it did have many stretches where it was freshly mown grass. In fact the main game seemed to be bailing up enough grass for when darkness returns.
The move to cycling through rural areas has it drawback – the streams run through the paddocks and while people always recommend iodine tablets they have never been part of my routine. As far as I am aware they do not actually remove the cow shit from the water they just reduce the risk that it will make you sick. So not really a solution in my book.
So I ended up having to make do on two litres of water for 100km and finished the last moth full a few kilometres before the last descent to the ferry in Rorvik. Must have been pretty dehydrated as I drank about three and a half litres of fluid over the next couple of ours before needing to go to the loo!
The ferry took me across to Flakk and as there was a campsite there, and I would be heading out that way, I decided to pitch my tent there. I caught the bus into Trondheim the next morning for a look around before heading back for a lazy afternoon.
Trondheim was a nice little city and I didn’t do it justice; just wandered back and forwards along the streets of the old town. I walked around the grounds of the cathedral and bishop’s palace, but while it claims to be the most northern gothic cathedral there was not a stick of black eye-liner to be seen. Every part of it seemed to have a seperate entrance fee so I just roamed the grounds. Gotta hand it to religion, first they extort the money to build their palaces and then charge you for the privilege of seeing what they did with your money. Sorry but I am a cynic and not a Theist!
From Flakk I headed off towards the west coast avoiding the E39 wherever possible and after a short day found another nice camping ground at Viggja.
Reading the tourist literature for the new region, I was surprised to discover that I had just entered Norway’s fjord region. It begged the question of wtf have I been riding around all these weeks, but when you look at the map they are certainly much bigger.
After setting up the tent, I spent the rest of the day watching Euro2016, only moving from the couch to eat dinner (I moved to a table behind the couch). Another wet night (six sunny days so far this summer) had me contemplated get spending the next fortnight on the couch watching football, but ever onward.
I rode to Orkanger for breakfast and after enduring the E39 for a short section took to the backroads for the ride to Kyrksæterora where I found a cheap hut (the rain got worse) and decided to take the Sunday off.
From Kyrksæterora I made up for my lazy Sunday with a 95km ride (plus a ferry) to Kristiansund.
Kristiansund is a great little town built around four islands (boroughs) each with a unique character…. You can visit the website for the rest.
I mistimed my arrival with their annual musical festival about to start although I got to hear the opening nights acts from my hotel (which was just across the water from Tahiti).
Having listened to bands till 1am, I set off late and had to hang around a bit longer to catch a bus through the tunnel that lay between me and the Atlantic Road.
On arriving at the start of the road I came across a group of VW Beetle enthusiasts about to head off in a convoy. I had such an urge to say “wait for me, I’ll just duck home and grab mine” as they looked so cool, but as the rain got heavier train behind them lost its appeal.
So in what ended up as a short day, I finished mid afternoon at a campsite overlooking the start of the road. They didn’t normally take tents but let me pitch mine along their breakwater to the envy of those in huts and rvs and after a bit of a wander I found another place called Kro (which apparently means pub) to sample the Bacaloa – the salted fish stew that is the regions speciality.
Obviously in the middle of winter in a remote fishing village your options are limited but it wasn’t too bad and as you got a saucepan full of the stuff, very sustaining. I’d probably order the paella if it was also on the menu but if all you have in the pantry is potatoes, onions, tomatoes and salted cod, google the recipe and give it a try.
Another wet night and a foggy morning preceded my journey along the Atlantic Road and so it probably wasn’t the best of conditions. A great piece of engineering but the linking section only covers the first 8km. At top speed, Jeremy Clarkson’s Lamborghini would do it in about 2 minutes! The car adds must just do multiple runs with different camera angles.
Anyway having made an early start I managed my best day’s riding yet passing through Eide, Molde and across the Island of Otroy to finish the day at Brattvåg- 103km plus two ferries (my maiden century).
A short ride to Hamnsund and express boat (they let bikes on) had me in Ålesund by lunchtime.
Ålesund is the jewel in the crown so far (as far as towns go) and could easily be to me what Edinburgh has become to Rachel. A very Art Deco place with beautiful buildings lining cobblestone laneways. You could spend weeks on an architectural tour.
So that is what I will be doing for the rest of my day here after my after-breakfast walk to the lookout it’s time to see what’s on the other side.
Tomorrow I continue the long and winding road to Bergen which between tunnels that cyclists cannot use and lots of roads to nowhere (well at least to places with no connecting ferries) is going to be a challenge – just need to follow the right 61X’s till I reach Route 57 and I will be fine!
Here’s the pics ….