Desde Noruega

Algunos han pedido un informe en español. Aquí va.

Lofoten, Noruega.

Hoy decidí tomar un día de descanso. No estoy turistiando. Este donde estoy no es lugar turístico. Solo necesitaba recargar las pilas ( literalmente y figurativamente) y lavar la ropa de ciclismo cuyo olor cada día volvía más desagradable. Retomaré el camino mañana.

Hasta ahí llega el sol en la noche en el Círculo Artico. Son 24 horas de sol.

Hasta ahorita he rodado unos 1,200 km en un viaje de bicicleta desde el punto norte de Noruega en Nordkapp hasta Saltstraumen. La meta es Bergen, si Dios me permite llegar. Queda unos 1,700 km de aquí. Llevo 12 días de rodada y dos de descanso contando hoy. Tengo 18 días mas para poder alcanzar mi vuelo que sale de Bergen el 8 de agosto. (Al escribir esto, siento la presión. Tal vez mi día de descanso fue desaconsejado)

Mi camino es la ruta por la costa atlántica marcada como una de varias rutas que crucen Europa. Es la sección de Noruega de la Ruta 1 de Euro Velo que extiende desde Nordkapp hasta el sur de España. He cruzado camino con cientos de ciclistas, la mayoría de Europa. Y la mayoría de ellos viajan hacia el norte. Yo decidí iniciar en el norte y viajar al sur. Otros han viajado a Nordkapp (hacia el norte) y ahora están de regreso. Tienen meses viajando en bicicleta. Yo no aspiro a tanto. Esa gente tiene todo mi respeto.

Escenas de Lofoten Es que un archipiélago de islas en el norte de Noruega.

Si no llego pedaleando a Bergen, llegaré por algún modo de transporte, probablemente por ferry, el modo indispensable de transporte aquí. De hecho, mi camino incluye varias ferries donde subo al barco igual que los carros y nos pasan a la otra isla. La costa de Noruega es realmente una serie de islas y fjords…y montañas. Si no estoy dando vuelta de un fjord (como un dedo de mar que se mete a la costa) estoy cruzando un puente o pasando al otro lado en ferry. Si no estoy subiendo a una montaña, estoy pasando por un túnel. Los puentes y los túneles, obviamente, traen sus desafíos para un ciclista. Dos túneles de mi camino hasta ahorita no eran para evitar una subida, sino para pasar por debajo del agua. Estos fueron una aventura en sí. Cómo entrando a Kazadum si has visto El Señor de los Anillos.

Pero son los puentes que me exigen más valor. No me gustan las alturas, son angostos y corre algo de aire aquí y más cuando uno está en el punto más alto. De hecho, antes de subir al puente hay un letrero electrónico informando sobre la velocidad del viento.

Es uno de los puentes que tuve que cruzar.

Con todo eso, pedalear en Noruega ha sido una aventura y un desafío. Pude haber conocido algo de Noruega como turista como los miles y miles de Europeos que viajan en sus autocaravanas en los mismos caminos que estoy explorando en bici. Ciertamente no me hubiera costado tanto trabajo. A veces pienso en eso cuando veo que tan cómodos se ven en sus autocaravanas. Pues, no necesito andar en bici para poder probar una hamburguesa de ballena, o un hot dog de carne de reno. Ni para ver las vistas hermosas cada vuelta del camino revela.

Hamburguesa de ballena.
Un fjord de miles en Noruega.

Pero hay una medida de satisfacción en llegar a un nuevo destino diario por tus propias fuerzas físicas. Así opino yo. Además, no estoy viendo el mundo encajonado en metal y vidrio. Realmente estoy sintiendo y oliendo el ambiente. Lo que he sentido desde el principio es el frio. Es lo que viene con andar en el Círculo Artico. 15 grados centígrados ha sido el promedio esta semana.

Reno en el camino

Al mismo tiempo, me veo llegando a apreciar las cosas que a veces tomo por sentado, cómo estar seca y caliente en el frío, o tener un lugar – una camita en una casa de campaña – para dormir en la noche. O algo sencillo para llenar el estómago después de un día de trabajo. Me veo apreciando la vida muy básica.

Supongo que pudo haber hecho un viaje similar más cerca a casa, pero quería escapar el calor (aún antes de saber que iba a hacer tanto calor al otro lado del mundo). Con este viaje he logrado eso sin duda. Y quería conocer un lugar nuevo. Hasta ahorita Noruega es todo eso y más.

Solo llevo lo esencial.

From Lofoten

This is how my ride ended yesterday.

As the ferry was arriving at Fiskebøl yesterday afternoon, it dawned on me the translation – Fish Bowl – because that’s what it looked like, that little harbor surrounding on all sides by high jutting mountains. I’d already done about 55 miles. Oh my goodness, where was the road out of there?!?

The Fish Bowl on the approach.

The road out did start with a climb, but somehow it was nothing compared to what I feared. In another 15 miles I saw the rainbow. It was right behind me the whole time. I only saw it when I came upon people taking photos. Wow!

Yesterday’s campsite.

My destination was a little hidden away abandoned campground. There was a small shack that had served as a reception/bar, a weird two-story building, the second floor of which was all glass, and some outhouses that by judging by how full they were, had been there for a while.

I say very hidden away, but already populated by a number of bikepackers and a couple of camper vans by the time I got there. Cyclists from Germany, Switzerland and France had already staked out the two-story lookout. Great view over the ocean, but hot. They told me there was a space for me, but it was just a bit too stuffy to be comfortable.

The French girl, Gaytan, explained that her tent leaked so she preferred warm to wet. Gaytan has been on the road three months and probably has three more to go. She’s cycled from the Loire Valley, where her family lives, up to Nørdkapp via Germany, Poland and at least Sweden. I think she went through Finland too, but I may be getting her route confused with the German I’ve been seeing on the road the last couple of days.

Gaytan reminded me that human contact is a good thing. I met the general gang when I first arrived, but she made a point to walk over to my camp and chat. My guess is that life as a solo traveler has taught her that human contact is important. She even came over early this morning to make sure I saw the moose in the field about 30 meters from the campsite. She and the others had spotted three from the lookout.

It was kind of cool waving goodbye to the Swiss guy, the first one to leave, and waving goodbye to Gaytan still up in the lookout, when I headed out. We had formed some kind of pseudo temporary community. Kind of nice.

Today I rode half of the Lofoten archipelago. Crossed some windy high bridges (don’t like) and called it an early day about 50 miles from the southern tip of Lofoten where I’ll catch the ferry to the mainland. I say mainland. I’m not really sure what’s connected and what’s not with so much water around. I’m pretty sure, however, that I’ll be leaving the Arctic Circle on the 60-mile ferry ride.

I’ve covered 650 miles so far. That’s about a third of the way to Bergen, my destination in Norway. The German – who just walked in the door at the campsite restaurant, by the way – has ridden about 3,000 miles. Who knows how many Gaytan has ridden. My little trip is chump change around these parts, but I’m ok with that.

Lofoten.
Musli og melk: a nice “snark” while waiting for the rain to stop. These are the bus stop shelters.

Full

This morning on Senja Island.

The Italian from Verona I met on the road said it well. “I’m full,” he said. He was done for the day.

This was part of a conversation we were having across the highway, cars passing between us. He was heading north. I was heading south. Just a little chat, a “ciao” and one of those Italian blown kisses and that was the end of that.

But today I feel like the Italian from Verona. I’m full. I’ve had enough cycling for today. It’s not that I cycled more than other days. I did 72. Those 72, however, had a bit of everything.

First off, I got an early start because I was in a race to cover 24 miles to catch the ferry at 11 a.m. to Andenes. I started at 8 a.m. For anyone who cycles that sounds like plenty of time, but as my Australian campsite neighbors (also cyclists) said: “it just depends on how many hills.” And there were hills. A pretty big climb, in fact. And there were tunnels, some long dark cold ones, in fact. They’re one-laners so I’m sure they’re kind of scary for cars too. Cyclists push a button before they enter so a flashing light at the entrance tells the cars that there’s a cyclist in the tunnel.

I did make it to the ferry. I ate my hot dog (they’re a staple on Norwegian ferries. I’m making a habit of eating one every time I’m onboard) and fell asleep during the long crossing despite the screaming French toddlers next booth over whose parents seemed oblivious to it. Next thing I know I wake up to a kind stranger squatting down in front of me (I’m laying down in the booth) telling me it’s time to wake up, that we’ve gotten to land. Travel exhaustion nap.

I stumble down to the car deck and wait my turn to ride my bike off the ferry. I’m starting the second half of my ride half-asleep. That might be why I got lost. Instead of checking out the map during the ferry ride, I was comatose.

After a couple of miles worth of passing the same corner “snark shop” -that’s what they’re called – I wake up and get my bearings. I then cycled for 20-some miles before the rain hit. I finally got to use my rain jacket for rain. Mainly I’ve just used it because I was cold, but it works well for rain too. Just couldn’t figure out how to tighten the hood while on the bike so every time a truck came by it would blow off. Aughh… About the time I decided I should stop and put on the rain pants and shoe covers as well, the sky cleared.

So big climbs; cold, scary tunnels; rain and sun, all packed into 72 miles. That’s enough for the day. I’m full.

I’m on Hinnøya Island. Part of the Vesterålen archipelago. Rode the length of Andøya Island after crossing over from Senja. The Vesterålen archipelago is still 300 km from the southern limit of the Arctic Circle.

Finally saw some reindeer on the road. There are caution signs everywhere, but finally saw these yesterday morning on Kvaløya Island near Tromsø.
This is a reindeer and beef hot dog. Toppings are potato salad, pickled beets, crispy onions and honey mustard. I had the guy fix it how he likes it. It was pretty good. Unlike the whale burger, I will do this again if given the opportunity.
This guy was lurking right behind me waiting to snatch my hot dog. Gotta keep your eye on those gulls. They’re sneaky.
Yesterday on Senja. Covered 68 miles. Tromsø to Skaland.
Rain ride.

From Trømso

It’s been 10 days since I got on an airplane headed this way, and it’s been seven since I started cycling. Counting my ride up to the starting point at Nørdkapp, I’ve covered 355 miles (575 km).

This is the territory I’ve covered so far. It doesn’t show the little detours to avoid tunnels, but this is the general route.

Wednesday was my longest day this week. I rode 82 miles. I felt refreshed after only about 30 miles and a day of checking out the local museums in Alta on Tuesday. Apparently, it’s a primo spot to observe the Northern Lights, though 24-hour daylight makes it hard in the summer. I hit one cathedral/museum (the government helped build it because until recently – 2012 – the Church of Norway and Lutheranism was the state religion of the country. Now it’s independent, but still receives financial support.) I found that more interesting than the actual Northern Lights Cathedral itself with its architectural design that represents – you guessed it – the Northern Lights, but it made for a nice stop.

Northern Lights Cathedral in Alta

Then it was on to the Alta Museum that protects some of the region’s ancient rock art scattered over a 3 km area. Some of it’s pretty good. Some of it looks like junior was pecking away at dad’s side. Fascinating stuff, nonetheless. By ancient we’re talking 2,000 to 7,000 years old. It’s a UNESCO-designated world heritage site so I felt that was a pretty good excuse to go easy on the cycling.

Alta’s rock art.

At the museum I got to try dried fish and reindeer heart as well. Let’s just say, I’d eat it if it’s all I had after a long ride, which is the same I would say about the whale burger I ate yesterday in Tromsø. Whale tastes like beef with a little fish mixed in. Been there, done that, probably won’t do it again.

Whale burger.

Tromsø is where I am this morning. It’s rainy outside and I’m torn between staying another day here to check out more museums (and rest from cycling) or to hit the road.

Trømso

I’ve rested some (short cycling day yesterday), refueled on whale, had a cozy night at a family-owned hotel and I’ve even washed my clothes for the first time in a week. Ami Hotel is not on the main hotels app. I found it on Airbnb, just fyi. It has been perfect. Free laundry, a fridge in the room, a kitchen and lounge downstairs and a place to store my bike. Oh, and free kaffe and espresso from the little machine down in the kitchen.

I had to cross that bridge to get into Trømso. I think I’ve mentioned that I don’t like heights.
Me trying to act cool at the top of the bridge, but that’s a super nervous smile.

I’ve been thinking during my rides over the last few days about sending some clothes home from Tromsø. Thought I wouldn’t need my thermal gear anymore, but the nice Norwegian couple I met on my 82-mile-day told me it was cold and rainy in the south where they were from. They were just sitting at a rest stop in camping chairs soaking up the sun. They asked me if I had clothes for the cold. It was in the 70s at the time and my face was already sunburnt despite factor 70 sunscreen (the arctic sun is intense). I assured them I did, but didn’t tell them I was considering ditching them. How could it be colder the farther south I went? I’m learning to listen to the locals.

In fact, if it hadn’t been for the nice local guy in Alta who gave me specific instructions on how to get around the 30 meters of missing road that my little Velo Cycle Route book failed to mention, I would have been discouraged and would have retraced the five miles or so to brave the long tunnel on the main highway. As it turned out, I got a sweet little spot for my first night of wild camping and a quiet ride on the other side of the missing road that the avalanche took. Never mind that passing the roadblock was forbudt, the guy assured me it was the way to go…his family had a cabin up there.

Forbudt! Is the abandoned stationary bike an attempt at irony?

Just asked the owner if my room was available for another night. It is. Decision made. I’m off to explore Tromsø. It’s the biggest town I’ve been in so far…is probably even considered a city. Kind of touristy, but I feel like being a tourist in Norway today.

My dry and cozy room in Trømso.

From Svensby, Norway

Svensby, Norway. 13 July 2023

The days are getting away from me. I spend most of them cycling to get to the next stopping place, but since I’m getting some personal messages asking if I’m still alive, I suppose I had better check in.

Anyone who wants to track me can see my rides on the Strava app. They’re not too accurate, but it’s something for those of you who want to see a map. They’re not too accurate because my watch is either running out of power all the time or I forget to start it or I go through a tunnel and I guess it thinks I’ve disappeared from the face of the earth so it turns off the workout. Not too concerned about me, just decides to call it quits. Does this count as AI?

Today I came around a bend in the road and there before me was one big gigantic snow-capped mountain that was so impressive I had to stop and take it in. When I got over being blown away, I realized my watch was chirping. It was asking me if I was ok? I thought, well, yeah, I’m just dumbstruck. It’s beautiful. Thanks for asking. Then I realized I had stopped so fast it thought I had wrecked. I guess that’s something, Siri.

So that’s about the gist of things. I’m starting to think my watch is concerned about me and I’m just about overwhelmed by beauty.

It’s wild and wonderful here in the Arctic Circle. At some point I turned a corner and the neighborhood changed from trees and streams and lush green to the towering rocky stuff with a few obvious glaciers. Oh, and all along there’s been water. Lots of water. Fjords everywhere. Fjords… and now mountains rising up from their shore. Mountains so steep you can’t do anything with them except look at them. Maybe they’re just there to remind us that there are things we humans can’t tame.

Right about here is where I should say: “but I digress” but I’m not sure I was going any particular direction anyway. It’s not dark yet, but it’s time for some rest. The main point here is that I’m still cycling…and those personal messages asking if I was still alive were from humans, mostly.

There’s farmland too.
Top of the world. Notice how far from the edge I am. I don’t like heights.
Thought about staying in this thing on the top of the pass. The downhill looked scary and it was windy. Did I mention I don’t like heights?
The big stuff.
Right down to the water’s edge.
Taking the ferry. My bike is parked at lower right of photo.

Correction

Moshe Prager is the Israeli photographer I met in the Oslo airport going to take pictures of the polar bears. I just double checked his Instagram account. Thanks for pointing that out, Pam.

Images from early days

Me doing what everybody else was doing in front of the Nordkapp globe.
Out there somewhere is the North Pole.
I’m taking the Atlantic Coast route as far as Bergen more or less. Ferry from there to Copenhagen probably.
Reindeer!
Fjords and more fjords.
My camping spot first night.
THE tunnel.
The cycling neighborhood second night.

Early days

Οldesfjord, Norway. 9 July, 2023

Turns out, the immigration officer was right: Norway is hilly.

Ι spent two and a half hour getting to my starting point. It was only 16 miles away and all along the way I was already considering ditching the venture.

As I rode uphill Ι asked myself “what can I throw out? As I coasted downhill, I asked then the “what other clothes can I put on?” 45 F (7 C) downhill feels like 32 F (0 C) with no clothes on. Finally, one last uphill and I finally joined the occupants of all the camper vans and tour buses that passed me on the way. Everyone was taking photos of themselves around the iconic Nørdkapp globe.

71 10’ 21’’ Those are the coordinates. Well into the Arctic Circle. I took a photo of my bike, a quick selfie, parked the bike where I halfway hoped someone would rob it and headed to the visitor’s center.

There I sat in the restaurant drinking coffee trying to warm up and thinking about that immigration officer’s question: “Why cycle Norway? Why not the Netherlands or Denmark where it’s flat?” Why, indeed?

It took a while – maybe two hours – but my clothes dried, I warmed up and I got enough caffeine in my system. I feeling a bit more optimistic about the next month. But since I wasn’t in a hurry – sun’s up around the clock and I’m still struggling with the time change and can’t go to sleep until after midnight anyway – I decided to look around.

At Nørdkapp, they have on display a lot of fun facts. Some British captain managed to sail around it in the 1500s. He was looking for a passage to China. Two of his three ships and their crews were lost. They froze or starved to death (seems to be a recurring theme). The captain himself made for Russia, got to Moscow by dogsled, then got back to Britain from there.

Then there was the priest from Ravenna, Italy – the first tourist to visit – who in the 1664 decided to travel to northern Norway because he wanted to know what compels these people to live under such extremely cold temperatures. That question was rattling around in my head as well. The priest satisfied his curiosity, according to the tourist display. I’m still wondering.

Thailand’s king Chulalongkorn in 1907 visited. He even carved his name in a rock.

I wandered around a bit, got the refresher video on why the sun doesn’t set in summer and doesn’t rise in winter, and what causes the northern lights. Then I stepped out on a quiet balcony. No tourists – too far to walk, I guess – just a big pile of snow that hadn’t melted yet, and the vast ocean. Even from Nørdkapp it’s still more than 2,000 km to the North Pole.

I walked back upstairs and out onto the open scrubland off to the east of the tourist globe. No more blah, blah, blah. This really was an amazing place. Extreme – I can’t imagine waging a naval battle out in that sea, like the Brits did against the Nazis in WWII. That must have been rough. I only have to ride a bike.

So…I got a Nørdkapp sticker in the gift shop (thinking about weight) and headed south (and pretty much downhill as it turns out) all the way back to my starting point and further. I rode 45 miles . I stopped several times to take pics: of the reindeer grazing in the field, of the cliffs and fjords, of lots of beautiful views.

Today I rode through more beautiful isolated miles and a few tunnels. I started with the longest one – more than 7 km, half of which is downhill and the other half uphill. There’s a reason for that – it goes under the water that separates Mageroya Island from the mainland. They ferry the reindeer over in the summer, but, alas, they don’t have a ferry for humans. So 10 percent grade down and 9 percent grade for 3 km later and I’m on the other side with rolling hills along the coastline ahead.

There are about 20 cyclist camping around me tonight. My nearest neighbors on either side are French. I talked to a British couple in the common kitchen. They started in Spain in May and are finishing in Nørdkapp in a couple of days. There are tons of Germans. One couple I met on the road, who were German, said about 80 percent of the riders they’ve met are German or French. Not many Americans. And fewer Mexicans.

But the Mexicans are here. I was pleasantly surprised to meet Karen from Leon, Guanajuato. She checked me in at reception. She’s a college student, her uncle is the manager of the business, and she gets to work here for the summer. How fun is that?

50 miles today. I finally found a gas canister for my camping stove. I ran into a Mexican in the middle of nowhere in Norway. A pretty good day.

On the way (continued)

Trømso Airport, Norway. 7 July 2023

Turns out, it takes a long time to get to the northernmost point in Norway even by air travel.

How long? Long enough to read too much about expeditions to the North and South Poles in which the corpses of expedition members were found years later frozen after having abandoned a beset ship (stuck in the ice) and trying to walk to some form of rescue that never materialized.

And long enough to admire views of snow-covered mountains from the airport terminal and wonder if camping in the Arctic Circle is a good idea…even if it is a balmy 45F. I probably won’t pull my frost-bitten toes off with my socks as some of those expedition members did, but a jet-lagged, foggy brain begins to imagine things.

Maybe a warm-up ride to a hotel that’s about five miles from the airport is the best plan. I’d use the excuse that I’m getting into Honnisvåg late, but the sun doesn’t set.

Which reminds me…

It was either a year ago or just this morning that I was in line with an Israeli photographer headed to somewhere east of Iceland that I didn’t even know existed to take photos of polar bears and white foxes and the like. At one point Moshe told me that the constant daylight is a problem for an observant Jew. Shabbat starts at sundown. If the sun doesn’t go down, what to do? Solution: just sync to sundown at the center of the world – Jerusalem.

By the way, Moshe does some photography work for National Geographic. I’ll be watching for his polar bears on his Instagram account at Moshe Perger.