Monday 27th July 2015
I had a restless nights sleep. The rain and wind starts around 1am. But, it is light enough to feel like the middle of the afternoon. It feels like my tent is going to take of at times. I am glad I pegged it down well. I put my earplugs in so I can't hear the wind and drift back off to sleep.
Just before 5, I wake up again. This time it is my bladder alarm clock going off. It is still raining and very windy. I can hear tents being packed away outside. These are some of the campers catching the early ferry. I wanted to catch the early ferry. But, some of the others didn't think they would be able to get up early enough so we booked on the 10:30 sailing.
I decided to get up around 8. Finn has already packed his tent away, and is heading for the warm and dry of the campsite kitchen. I have fun trying to pack away my tent in the strong wind. Mark is also packing, and Stuart and Alison are up and about too. Once we have packed up, we join the queue for the ferry down on the dock.
Most of the campers from the site are already there. As we are on bikes, we go straight to the front and start our own line. Mr Kendal Mint Cake is in the next lane. He comes over for a chat. He and the lovely Mrs Kendal Mint Cake are heading inland towards Sweden. They are hoping to find out more about her Grandfathers family in the village where they are from. Lets hope they discover he was a patient man!
The ferry appears into view. It is bobbing around like a rubber duck in a toddlers bathtub. It looks like it might be an interesting crossing. We are waved on first, and directed to strap the bikes down near the side of the ferry. A man in high-viz walks over towards us. " Four straps per bike! Strap down tight! Big Waves!" he shouts, so that we can all hear him. Oh dear!
We have been used to fjords like mill ponds. Even my ferry crossing over was super smooth. Now we were heading into a scene from " Deadliest Catch". With the bikes strapped down well enough to survive a nuclear blast, Finn, Mark and I stake a territorial claim at table in the passenger lounge. We save Stuart and Alison a couple of spaces. It is a three and a half hour crossing. I am glad I took a nausea tablet earlier.
The ferry leaves bang on time. The passenger lounge is filling up fast. Lots of backpackers with huge packs, are annoying the other passengers as they walk through the rows looking for seats. The sea seems calm, until we leave the shelter of the harbor breakwater.
All hell breaks loose. A giant sea-monster has grabbed the ferry, and is trying to shake the passengers out! I am feeling around my headrest for the drop down restraining device, as it feels like a theme park ride. Members of the crew are handing out sick bags. Even the locals are taking some.
I decide it would be a good idea to take a few photos of us leaving the island. I make my way outside. This is harder than you would imagine. It is difficult to stand, let alone walk. I edge my way towards the door holding on to the hard rail to steady myself. The problems start when someone is coming the other way. One of us has to let go, and give way! A group of elderly ladies are finding the whole situation hilarious.
I make it outside into the bracing fresh air. I find Stuart and Alison sat on a bench in a sheltered spot. They are not enjoying the crossing so far, and are going to stay outside for a while.
The Lofoten Island mountains look menacing, shrouded in the low lying mist. The sky overhead is looking angry, and I watch some of the larger waves crash into the shore.
The wind is strong out on the rear deck. Some of the passengers are hanging onto the safety rail with white knuckles. The flagpole is bending with the force of the wind.
I stay out on the deck for about twenty minutes. I am feeling a little cold, so I head back inside. I notice the cafeteria is open. As, I haven't had any breakfast yet I buy a coffee. The nice lady serving, tells me that I can help myself to a free refill, which is included in the price. This could come in handy, as I now have the challenge of getting back to my seat without spilling it.
I get to where the old ladies are sitting without incident. They are now in floods of tears. A guy in front of me is wearing his tray of cooked breakfast and coffee. A member of staff comes over to clean up. I get back to my seat. Mark and Finn, jokingly ask where their coffees are.
After around an hour and a half the sea seems to calm down. Either that or I am getting used to the ferry moving. I can now walk in a straight line again. I stop off at the toilet on my way out to the deck. The guy from earlier is still trying to wash tomato ketchup out of his shirt.
The sea is definitely much calmer now. We are passing a group of islands which are out in the middle of the West Fjord. Some of them are inhabited.
At our table, Finn comes back from the cafeteria with a coffee and a piece of Diam cake. This is a Scandinavian phenomenon. Mark disappears and returns with a slice of his own a few minutes later. Damn it! I want a piece now. I join the cafeteria queue and buy a cheese salad roll, a piece of Diam cake, and top up my coffee cup. I have had Diam cake before back at home. But, it tastes even better right here and now.
The ferry is now tracking the coast of the mainland. The mountains appear to change colour as the sun hits them through breaks in the cloud. The taller ones have snow covered tops. We would be riding the mountain roads over the next few days. I was looking forward to seeing the views on the higher passes.
The captain comes over the tannoy to announce the fact that we will be docking on time. With twenty minutes to go, the car deck opens and we make our way down. The bikes are still standing, and don't appear to have moved an inch.
We say our goodbye's to Finn. He is going to take a different route to us from here. The FV17 is a scenic coastal route involving lots of ferry crossings to link up the sections of road. I had read about the FV17 during my research for the trip. The common consensus is that it takes 3-5 days to comfortably complete the route, due to the attractions along the way and waiting for ferries. The rest of us are taking the more direct E6, so that we don't run out of time later in the trip.
It is raining as the bow doors open. We are ready to get going, but a Volvo towing a large caravan is blocking us in. It is owned by the nice Finnish family who were handing out the grilled fish at the campsite. They delicately move out of the way, and we get going.
Mark and I pull over just before we leave the port, to wait for Stuart and Alison and to put on our waterproofs. The weather reports say that rain may keep us company over the next couple of days.
After topping up the bikes with fuel we head out of Bodo. It has an excellent road system with a central lane used in either direction dependant on demand. Today the flow is in our favour and we make good time.
It is the usual case of the road following the shore around the fjord. In this case a very large one. Mark is setting a good pace and we settle into a nice rhythm.
As we get to Rognan, the road narrows through the town centre. Rognan seemed to be a centre for wintersports, with lots of radical looking dudes walking about in dreadlocks. There were a lot of older cars fitted with large "moose lights" too. I hadn't spotted many of these since leaving Sweden.
The road continued south and became even narrower. The large trucks and tourist coaches were obviously used to this though, as they didn't slow down at all when they passed with inches to spare.
The rain returned an hour later. The sky was bruising, and the rain became more persistent. There were signs it had been raining for some time, as the road ran next to a very swollen river as we entered the Saltdallen National park.
There was a stunning looking tourist information centre here. The road also took an an Alpine feel, twisting and turning over blind crests through the pine forest.
We caught up with the Finnish family again who slowed down and waved us all passed, enthusiastically beeping the horn and waving as they did so.
The E6 then crossed the vast open plains of Dunderlandsdallen. The wind was cold and strong. It became a challenge on some of the more open corners. Midway across the plain, we crossed back over the Polar Circle. There is a visiters centre there but I could tell that Mark was in no mood for stopping to look at tourist tat.
We were heading to a campsite just the other side of Mo I Rana. By the time we arrived, I was cold, tired, and soaked to the skin. Today I had discovered that my waterproofs were only waterproof for about an hour in constant rain!
I headed into the reception building looking like a drowned rat. Trying not to drip too much on the nice clean floor, I was greeted by a Norwegian angel. Looking like Velma Dinkley from the Scooby Doo cartoons, she melted my frozen heart.
She had a choice of cabins available, and we elected for 2 basic cabins at 520NOK each. This was about the average we paid during our trip. The cabins were warm, dry, and just the job for a bunch of weary travelers.
The campsite had a tumble drier, so I opted to make full use of it. This meant going to see Velma for some tokens. She wanted to hear about my trip, so we chatted for a while. She liked meeting people from different places, which is why she worked on the reception during the summer holiday break from University. Her English was excellent. I am always embarrassed at my lack of being able to speak foreign languages.
I loaded up the drier with all of my clothes. I even threw in my motorcycle gloves. Mark and I then got some food going, and settled in. It felt like it had been a long day today.
Here is part 11 of my vlog:
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