One cold morning as the winter solstice neared, I woke up with a collapsed lung. This didn't seem very fair as I'd already had my completely random, debilitating injury for 2025 back in January when my ankle stopped working for no reason.

Apparently it's common for spontaneous collapsed lungs to affect tall men. It does seem particularly egregious though - when I go to sleep buffered by at least four pillows - to wake up with new injuries.

I did go to hospital about my collapsed lung a couple of days after the solstice after spending a week thinking it was some kind of weird covid that only affected one lung and didn't show up on RATs. The doctor checked out my X-ray and suggested a conservative approach as opposed to admitting me to stick a needle into my chest cavity and suck out the excess air. The conservative approach was appealing to me too. So since then I've had a couple more X-rays to see if it is getting worse or better.

According to the latest X-ray it is getting better. Could this collapsed lung be a metaphor for winter? The day with the shortest amount of lung, and then slowly but surely it expands each day and eventually there's a summer of massive, never-ending lung? And then after New Year's the roulette wheel spins again to determine what my journal entries will be about in 2026?

No, probably not. If it's a metaphor for anything (it's not) it's a metaphor for the collapse of metaphors. It's dark. I'm cold. I'm growing old. I'm not running out of visual imagery, I'm running out of novel feelings to allude to with them.

But at least the solstice is done with. Soon it will be sprung.

It was not a good idea to watch the first episode of True Detective Season 4 on a dark, windy night right before bedtime. Not because the horror themes make me feel scared. Because the Alaska themes make me feel cold.

I can now add Mosjøen and Mo I Rana to the places in Norway where I have been rained on. Despite that, there were plenty of dry moments on the road trip north today.

We started in Brønnøysund and during a good breakfast I realised today was actually a public holiday in Norway for some reason. That reason is Kristi Himmelfartsdag, which translates to "the supermarkets are closed or in some cases open in smaller configurations".

The Brønnøysund Bridge

This is one of the different things Norway does, along with not believing in bath mats and adding bacon to condensed milk. (I tried some Bacon Ost on bread this morning and I was left with only more questions.)

The drive was shorter today so I cruised a lot more and we stopped at various rest stops which often had little walks attached.

A lake with little islands by the road.

A large, long lake ringed by mountains, just after a tunnel. With a nice toilet.

Another way up in the last of the snow with a board walk to a small lake.

Another was next to a fast flowing, glacial river and a track rest area. And a toilet. No pictures.

Where we stopped for lunch - Mosjøen - was along a river facing a wide mountain range where instead of waterfalls running down the face it was still snow packs filling the vertical gaps in the rocks at higher altitudes. Lucky it took me twenty minutes to find a working car charger because after I did it stopped raining long enough to reach the river and assemble some tuna sandwiches with stolen breakfast rolls. It rained on us on the way back to the car.

We reached Mo I Rana, and without many options for dinner, I tried the double chicken burger with chips at Circle K. That was still nearly $30 but it fed both of us so not a bad result. Circle K also has chicken salt in 1 kilogram shakers.

After dinner I tried another walk to the town's only open supermarket, which I did not realise was downhill. It rained on me several more times, but I did see a few neat things on the way back up the hill.

It was still sodden in Trondheim this morning. We couldn't even sit down to eat cereal and yoghurt by the festung to watch the sunrise. The sogginess of the place followed me most of the drive north and east to Holm. Literally, as my shoes and socks were soaked. It rained in Steinkjer where we filled up with more coffee. And it rained as we drove over the bridge into Grong. As I plugged in the charger, the rain started to clear.

Some mist in the trees worth stopping for north-east of Trondheim.

Another day of adventures for the Koppen

We walked down to the river and visited Grong's Coop to buy lunch ingredients. The rain still abated as we enjoyed a delicious lunch of tuna, tomato, lettuce and hummus stuffed into a horn in a foresty rest stop called Hessienget.

The hole in my bread roll was a sign of things to come.

My lunch was so huge that I knew I had to press pause on it in order to catch the ferry from Holm to reach our destination of Brønnøysund. Starting the car and checking the map, it was evident that it was a lot tighter than I'd thought. And unlike other ferries, this one only ran every hour. I'd been extremely time efficient with ferries up until this point - even for the ones where a delay meant waiting ten minutes for the next one. I cursed myself for putting that record in jeopardy, and cursed some more as we hit a convoy of white RVs and motor homes crusing under the speed limit almost instantly after leaving the rest stop.

Well, it took some driving, but both the BZ4X and my also-clearly-late-for-the-ferry companion ahead of me managed to fast forward our way through the Helgelandskysten scenic route. Along the way I caught glimpses of fjords, mountains, trees, rocks, pristine nature under nice, afternoon light diffusing through clouds that weren't actively raining. If today had been day one of the trip I think I would have stopped multiple times for various waterfalls. As it turned out, it was just amazing scenery for the race to the ferry.

After all that, we made it to the ferry terminal with minutes to spare before the ferry arrived to unload and then load. We joined the queue of cars, watched the boat unload, and then anticlimactically watched it finish re-loading and run out of room many cars ahead of our position in line. With a toot of its horn it set off, and all the remaining queue pulled over to the first lane to wait the hour for the next one.

Well, this was a good chance to stretch the legs, finally throw my wet socks in a bin, eat the rest of my sandwich, and watch the ferry cross the waters and then back to us. We made it into the next intake, and then drove the remainder of the way to Brønnøysund which appeared to be this part of Norway's equivalent of Victor Harbor, and the same amount of action as to be expected still a week before summer.

The sun was now out. We checked into the hotel, then left for some $40 beef burgers wearing dry socks. The sun was now brighter than it had been for days, and this was uplifting for me because it was time to drive to Torghatten - the main reason we'd come past this way.

Torghatten is a mountain with a hole through it. And I knew you could climb up it into the hole and that while it was steep to get up, it was only a couple of kilometres round trip. The experience ended up exceeding my expectations. After a lovely drive over another cool bridge, and past a few more robot lawn mowers, we parked in the shade of the mountain and climbed up the steps and into the cavernous hole.

The view from both sides of the hole.

The warm, evening light welcomed us, shinining into the hole from the other side and into my soul. It was an incredible place. Looking west was like staring at some video game map. Views in every direction. Even looking back up at the hole.

After climbing down the other side we turned back and did it again. It was such a good mountain I felt the need to walk up it from two directions.

My mood was much sunnier after that.

I expected Norway to be a drizzly place, don't get me wrong. And I appreciate that I spent about two weeks here in May under blue skies. But recently, it's the timing of the rain has been demotivating the last few days.

Hiking up a hill, blazing sun. At the top of Aksla at sunset, cloud and drizzle. Crossing the Atlantic Ocean Highway - drizzle. Waiting at Vestnes for the ferry an hour earlier - sunny. Driving into Trondheim in the afternoon traffic - sunny. Walking back up the hill from the old town - raining. 11pm and trying to go to sleep - sunny.

But there have still been many good places to eat an apple. I've had an apple and nuts in many scenic places on this trip so far. Today's view while I ate was this:

This morning we climbed to the summit of Meraftafjellet, east of Ålesund. We have done a lot of hiking this trip so far and a lot of inclines but this hike felt like the first time we'd actually climbed a mountain. Just a thin trail to follow through bogs, over boulders, up rocks and between trees. A good challenge, and with amazing views at the top despite the typical Norweigan blue skies and bright sunshine.

After lunch, we walked into the Ålesund old town for the second consecutive day and again we got rained on by the water.

I wanted to like Ålesund a lot more than I did while here. Its colourful, art-deco downtown along the canal gave me Venice vibes but all we got were tourists from cruise ships, kitschy shops, and scaffolding. You know, like Venice. But I didn't feel a vibe. It has everything you'd want in a town. Good panoramas from a nearby mountain or two. Cool buildings. Seaside and mountain views. Nice houses with some awesome backyard trees visible from the road. But something seems missing.

I reflected on this, as I ducked out to the Kiwi Mini Pris for some dessert strawberries, and grey clouds rolled over me again. If I lived in Ålesund, in one of these apartments lining Borgundvegen, what would my life be like and would I enjoy it. (Technically according to my Lyca mobile agreement I do live in Ålesund off Borgundvegen...)

Which of the green spaces would I walk Nash and what pub would I come second at trivia at with friends?

Norway as an advanced society has really rammed home that all humans are the same and they just want to eat hot, salty food and scroll their phones and take the same photos and get home safely. There are lots of great places to live in the world, but the best ones are where your friends, family and dog are at. That's the vibe I've gotten here today. I never got that vibe in Venice. I could have stayed there forever...

And really, is it Ålesund's fault that it stands in a climate not suited for drinking an Aperol Spritz with a slice of orange at any time of the day ? A little bit, I guess, because the city did burn to the ground in 1904 and they rebuilt it where it stood instead of moving it to the Mediterranean. I did enjoy my walks up the various hills, especially after dinner in the low light of evening. It's a city at the centre of an archipelago. If you treat the wide expanse of glacier sheathed waterways all around that reflect the still standing mountains from which the glaciers came, and think of those as canals instead of the lone Ålesundet, you can appreciate its natural beauty. And I did enjoy a beer while wearing just a t-shirt and pants under the heater, behind the double-glazed windows that looked out over the mountains.

It finally rained in Norway. We put on our winter jackets. I worked out how to use the Bosch coffee pod machine and filled my Circle K cup. We drove along the fjord to Loen and then into the valley towards Lovatnet.

I think the original plan back in Adelaide had been to do hiking on the Lodalen path, but I made the mistake of trusting the first result All Trails had for Lovatnet which met our distance/elevation/challenge criteria. So we ended up parking at the north-west end of the lake and walking along a fire/logging track for a great distance. Near the start we walking through a little Norwegian village very much asleep in the mist up a hill. We continued following the trail which was for the most part lined on both sides by trees and with only glimpses of the lake. But there were good glimpses, including a very convenient bench on which to sit and eat cereal and yogurt, with very good timing because after that the rain fell harder.

We followed the trail to where All Trails said that it ended - which wasn't true. We might have been able to follow it all the way to Lodalen, but that was very far away. There was one water crossing that was a bit of adventure to hop over.

After the walk back, we drove to Olden for more jacket shopping, along with beanies and moose-themed neck warmers. Then went back to Stryn for lunch, more ice-cream cake (wearing new jackets), and during a relaxing afternoon I drank the first of my regional beers.

Later on we made some dinner, then went out for an evening stroll up the hill that the apartment was on. Some walking trails went further up into the forest there, but we just stretched the legs while it wasn't raining. It was a good day for relaxing.