Won Another Quiz Night

After a lot of close finishes, I contributed to my first quiz win of the year.


If you like Bradism, you'll probably enjoy my stories. You can click a cover below and support me by buying one of my books from Amazon.

If you met yourself from the future, what would you ask your future self?
What if they wont tell you anything?


Nash Finally Loses

I feel like, in Nash's head, she is on an eleven year winning streak. Until tonight. This is what happens when the Dentastix slides underneath the couch as you leave the house.

She did not get it out.

Mountains to Climb

We have hung all the photos on the walls in the new house. There was some rationale for which canvas went where, but not that much thought went into it.

At the top of the staircase now hangs a panorama from Tom, Dick and Harry in Oregon. I took it on a nice day in 2019. Six kilometers of hiking through forest, a long neck of PNW IPA in my stomach. No pain anywhere (I'm sure...)

More recently I've been concentrating on activating my glutes more when I take steps to try and help the ankle pain. The most common place to do this has been on the staircase at home.

Now when I walk up the stairs to the view of treetops and sky and distant peaks it feels like I've walked up a mountain.


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Summer Again Again Again

Based on the current forecasts, it will have rained less than 20mm between the January day I bought tickets to Norway and the day my plane takes off this month.

This means that after a regular summer, and an autumn summer, I'll be experiencing a European summer. Albeit one likely to feature more rain. And more sun.

I conquered my first peak of May this morning, hopefully more to come.

Was pretty warm on the way up and down. Drove around this evening with every window down.

My Ridleyton Era

In My Ridleyton Era.
In my covid era.
In my mulberry tree era.
My cycling era. My air-fryer era.
My upper limb surgery era.
My no mortgage lifestyle era.
My friends all having kids era.
My fresh baguette from the shops that morning era.
My savvy and not so savvy investing era.
In my meat puffs era. My New Holland Honeyeater era.
My watching Nash grow old era.
My integration architecture era.
In my working and working out from home era.
My local cafe knows me and my dog's order era.
In my noticing how bad the cold is in winter era.
In my driving twenty minutes to the beach nearly every second summer evening era.
Out of my Ridleyton era.

If Time Persists

This slip of the tongue has stuck with me since it was misspoken at the start of a webinar some months back, another life.

In early April, booking accommodations and scrutinising ferry schedules, Norway felt much more imminent than it did two days ago.

Work deadlines, life events, upcoming holidays, a moment to sit on the couch. Everything was happening in these parallel layers of time which felt unquestionably persistent.

The present was constantly becoming the past, so was the future. Memories of old houses, old exercises (side planks!), old injuries, old feelings. All mixing in with the new.

I haven't had a smoothie for months. I used to drink ten a week. I've been eating almonds almost daily, after forsaking them based on a blood test in 2023. I'm nothing but living echoes. My house is no longer mine. Driving around my old neighbourhood and GI tract I see new shops and changed roads. You move on, but time persists.

How to Set a New Steps PB in Oslo

Start around the waterfront and up the Opera House to the viewpoint before breakfast.

The pressure washer teams are out.

Take advantage of the free breakfast and free coffee for plenty of fuel.

Stroll across town to the Botanic gardens. Take in the spring blooms and different birds.

Follow the trams, bikes and scooters until you take the turn off for the scenic route back along Akersevla

Grab lunch from a salatbar off Karl Johan's Gate, as Oslo Domkirke strikes twelve with exuberance.

Savor lunch with the tulips and the tits in the old Børs' gardens.

Nap.

Summit the palace grounds and up the winding streets between embassy's to Vigelandsparken.

Meander around to find statues and dinner as diffused sunlight is further dappled, glimmering off the genitalia off countless sculpted figures.

Return along the same route and past the fountains along the Nationaltheatret Boulevard.

Duck out one last time to see the sun set over the Oslofjord.

Norway - As Advertised

At customs in Oslo when I was asked to state my purpose for visiting I said, "To see your beautiful country." Maybe I just sound disingenuous when I'm jet-lagged, but the officer did not appear to like this answer. He implied that I'd be better off and warmer in Australia. I assumed he was still jaded about Scandinavia after a long winter. From my perspective, I felt like if he had a problem with people expecting a beautiful country he should take it up with his tourism commissioner.

After two nights in Oslo, I picked up the rental car around midday and began our three week roadtrip by first slowly rotating down a parking garage corkscrew, and then along the motorway towards the fjords and the first of what is sure to be many Circle Ks.

After getting out of Oslo we stopped for lunch by a body of water off the road, and ate bread and salad on a makeshift rock table. The scenery was both stunning and mundane. A horizon of pine trees rising up the slopes along the banks of the water. A slight haze of white cloud. It was beautiful, and yet also nothing compared to what was to come.

As the afternoon sun turned more golden and the roads narrowed we drove through an absolutely stunning array of landscapes. Fields of grass, forests, roaring rivers, snow capped mountains. Every bend in the road brought us to some new scene. Sheep grazing on the streep slopes. Immense tunnels. Bridges. After Gol, the road narrowed and we ascended higher until the snow caps starting looking closer and closer. Eventually we came to a large, frozen lake rimmed entirely by rocky peaks.

From there, the car regenerated battery as we descended curving roads and sharp bends and more tunnels. The last one was 25 kilometres long, and delivered us to Aurland where the evening sun was still high enough to sparkle across the water.

It was an incredible start to the journey, one that expelled any doubts about coming here and paying large amounts of money for chicken and toilets. If the rest of the trip is as scenic and stunning as this, I would say that the tourism commission is under-selling it.

The Fjord Seasons

WINTER
The Stegastein Viewpoint. 5° air temperature. Sun slowly descending over the cliffs rising up from the Nærøyfjord. Numb fingers trying to spoon fruit and nut muesli into my mouth. Windproof jacket, fingerless gloves, pants, woollen socks.

SPRING
The Flåm Valley so green and saturated that it looks Photoshopped. Walking the route of the railway. Tulips growing on the side of the road. The sun warm on the face, but breeze bringing pollen and a slight chill on the return to the fjord. Shorts, hiking boots, pullover, hat and sunglasses.

SUMMER
Post-nap fresh strawberries and yoghurt on the patio in Aurland. Water shimmering reflecting the clearest of skies. Shorts, tshirt, bare feet on the grass to take in the view.

AUTUMN
What it is at my house. I took this photo of a red tree to round out this post.

The Elements

Rock, water, logs.

There has not been a museum or art gallery in sight on this trip so far. Human history and culture has a place, but after 2023's tour of Roman stones and baby Jesuses, I made a conscious decision to make Norway 2025 a holiday dedicated to nature. This morning I sat on a boulder, eating fruit and nut muesli with yoghurt, watching the sunlight filter over the mountains to light up the fjords. On the drive back to Aurland I briefly shared the road with a tribe of goats.


We then drove from Aurland to Kinsarvik, stopping to eat chicken sandwiches at your average Norweigan rest stop featuring a raging blue river, mountains, waterfalls and trees. Vanessa clambered down to put her feet in the water which I was not brave or motivated enough to do.

The rest of the drive featured many tunnels - one with a roundabout in it - and a cool bridge. We also stopped at Circle K for coffee and a bolle.

Kinsarvik is a small town on a big fjord. We ate an early dinner of more chicken and salad from the local Spar, then drove up the hill to follow a trail along a gushing river.

At the base of a massive waterfall was a power-plant. We followed the pipe up to the top, taking in a second waterfall and even more trees, rocks, and water.



After returning back to the car and hotel, some 20,000 steps stepped and many of them over unstable rocks, we needed more fuel and so we devoured an ice-cream log cake.


Constitution Day

Sunrise in Kinsarvik is about 4:45am, and the sun sinks into the North Sea west of Bergen close to 10:30pm. With barely a cloud in the sky, that is a long day to be drinking, however that is what all the folks in their traditional finery seemed to be doing. The streets around Vågen were packed with happy, chattering people and a plethora of Norwegian flags. Further along down the alleys groups gathered around tables and makeshift grills, soaking up relentless evening sun and sometimes singing. Occasionally the ambience was interrupted by the faint whine of an electric engine as tyres traverse cobblestone streets.

The morning started with taking in the sunrise over the fjord, the very unexpected boom of some 7am fireworks, and a large breakfast including my first taste of brown cheese (pretty good with eggs) and of wreath cake. There were many flags.


I grabbed a bit of this almond cake on my way back for extra pancakes.

Loaded up on food, we drove along the water towards Odda where the light sparkled once more on waters, snow-capped mountains, old churches, and apple orchards. And flags.

It's the simple things in life that make me happy, and I've written previously about how the first coffee of the day brings a euphoric focus to my moment in the present, doing this while hugging the winding lanes of the tourist road under a blue sky was peak coffee experience.

After some tunnels we reached Bondhusdalen - translated: Farmhouse Valley. We hiked into the valley along a path that took us past a vibrant blue lake and then up a forest slope to a very dry plateau that showed signs of being very wet at other times of the year. Into the valley, I didn't see any signs of a farmhouse other than a stacked rock wall which was probably a thousand years old. The rest of the landscape was dated by millennia. Ancient forest and towering, rocky mountain faces and the dust of ancient boulders beneath our boots. Along with hikers sporting Norwegian flags. And dogs (also sporting flags).




After the hike we drove to Bergen, including the first two ferries of the road trip, and many more winding roads. Nearly every shop was closed, but we did crash a community get together in a small town shopping mall where I devoured a kebab before we continued on.

After so much travel, nature, and wide open spaces, the transition to a Bergen downtown clearly many hours into the party was jarring, but once adapted and we'd explored beyond the nucleus of the revelry into was easier to soak up the atmosphere from a respectable distance. In an Australian equivalent, Constitution Day would be a combo of Australia Day (over exuberant national pride) and Melbourne Cup day (getting drunk in fancy clothes). Except Australia lacks the equivalent of the first days of sunshine after months of darkness and snow that precedes it.


Bergen is a very pretty town, and I envy the sense of community it exhibited on this day, among the colourful wooden houses and charming lanes. We went to bed as the sun was setting, and I was startled again by booming fireworks around 11pm as I drifted off to sleep.

Bergen is Closed On Sundays

It does seems pretty harsh (towards tourists with no affinity to the Constitution or to God) to close the supermarkets for an entire weekend. At least the hotel breakfast spread was epic.

After a morning walk up to the summit of Fløyen (very quiet), bellies were emptied and subsequently filled with the best of traditional Norwegian breakfasts: Fresh bread. Eggs, bacon, sausage, pretzel, omelette, salad, watermelon, melon, pain au Chocolat, granola, rice pudding. Lots of coffee.

Sunrise view.


My hotel and my carpark were both visible from the lookout.

For lunch, coincidentally, a lot of the same food enjoyed in the scenic surrounds of Nygårdsparken.

Nygårdsparken was one of the nicest parts of Bergen.

For dinner, we splurged on spicy and voluminous Indian food down in Bryggen.

After dinner I walked around one of the rainiest cities in the world under blue sky and a lingering, setting sun. All the flags from Constitution Day were gone, save for one faded flag on a street off Skottegaten. The flagpoles were still all there, reaching into the empty alleys and looking very pointless.




Lastly, a review of the typical Norwegian dress from the day before, still in the shop windows because they obviously weren't open today to change them over.

Rolling On to Jølster

After a morning stroll in Bergen, and another big breakfast, we returned to the roads of Norway and the scenic fjords.

It was a long day of driving, not helped by the fact that my Google maps compass seemed to be using the wrong pole. It did get me to a Circle K north of Bergen pretty well. On the roundabout at the exit to the motorway an Ikea van had hit an electric car - it felt kind of Scandinavian. I also may have paid to use the same toll road four times in my attempt to reach a certain Flatøy trailhead, and eventually gave up and drove to Ytre Oppedal for the first ferry of the morning and a bit of a break to eat an apple and nuts (and some surprise granola pieces).

From Lavik we drove East towards Balestrand. Driving on the right hand side of the road meant a long stretch of crystal clear water reflecting the still cloudless, blue sky. We stopped for lunch at a random rest stop that appeared on the map, which turned out to be a beautiful beach with clean public toilets and a nice rock on which to enjoy some additional hotel breakfast sandwiches and fit in another little stroll.



The next ferry took us to Hella, across a waterfall bridge, and the picturesque scenery then continued all the way to Sogndalsfjøra which is where I intended to recharge the car.

Despite having another Circle K, this was not a good place to charge. Again, I felt personally slighted by Google Maps as I tried to locate the entrance to the chargers in the car park. It was also by far the least nature-y town on the road that day, by which I mean there were a decent amount of buildings in the lee of the mountains and the fjord. The walk along the water towards coffee was also so shadow-less that we only found two square metres of shade in which to eat a bolle before getting back on the road.

At this point it truly felt like Norway was one of the sunniest places on Earth, and I was ready for the driving to end. We continued on, exiting a tunnel to reach the view of Fjaerlands Fjord which - in the higher altitude's cooler air - was spectacular and revived the spirits somewhat.


Leaving that panorama behind us, we drove further and were compelled to park again at another valley where a large rock slide in the past year or so had created another dynamic landscape of rock, snow, greenery, sky and sun.

Then, inevitably, more tunnelen, before the lakeside road towards Skei led further onward to our accommodation in Jølster. And then back again as we realised the footpath next to the road was actually the road we needed to reach the guest house.

Another amazing choice of accommodation, was this. A view out the window of the massive lake, the hillsides, the glacier in the distance. We were the only ones staying. We drove back to Skei to buy dinner from the Coop Extra and had another serve of Norwegian Taco Chicken. While cooking, I spoke briefly to the tradesman who was living there to maintain and improve the property. I asked him if he ever got sick of the scenery. He said no. He also told me how to pronounced Skei. He asked where we'd come from that morning, and after some thinking, I told him, "Bergen". It seemed so long ago at that point. I told him a bit more about our trip and plans and he commented that it sounded very arranged.

After dinner of course it was still not dark so we walked along the lake a little way to a church and Vanessa again put her feet in the waters.

In the evening, I unpacked the tripod for some sunset photos - a rare moment without glare - then climbed into bed.

Briksdal

The most enduring impression I have of the Briksdal glacier is that of total immersion, like I was inside a snow globe of natural beauty, right in the centre. In this analogy, the dome was inverted and instead of snow it was sun that spilled around the tops of the mountains and highlighted the rocks and fronds and the splash of water.



There was of course still snow, up on the top of the rock as the glacier hung onto the grey rock that we had been walking towards since our meal of sausages, corn, vegetable sticks and hummus at the carpark.

From there we travelled a gravel path that followed a river of the clearest, bluest water. It wound past waterfalls, mossy stone, pottholes, and other geological nooks. We saw the signs - figuratively and literally - of the glacier's historical spread. The retreated ice was now high up the mountains, and trickling via another waterfall into a lake where the trail ended. The late spring sunlight made it all glow.


It was another beautiful place to see and take in after a simple dinner and a fjord-side drive.

The morning was a chilly one. Vanessa walked to Skei (Icelandic man taught me to pronounce it - shkeh. I picked her up from the Circle K. We returned to the lake for breakfast and another visit to the church.



Then we drove back to Skei to buy picnic supplies and drove under the blue sky following the Stardalselva waters that led us through the green valley towards a little lake with a nice view of the mountain Eggenipa. Technically it was too early for lunch, but we still ate after I finished my coffee


Then we drove on over some more mountains with a brief stop to climb up some rocks to look over the valley. Before we descended we reached the Skjørbakkane Utsiktspunkt. Another impressive vantage point at which to eat food, probe for any kind of short trail to stretch the legs, take some photos, and then drive onwards.

The rest of the way to Stryn was also nice. We drove through Olden and Loen and stopped briefly to check out the jacket sales. One advantage of visiting Scandinavia at the end of spring is the large discounts on the heavy duty winter-wear. Good timing for me who will have to return to Adelaide for actual winter in only a couple more weeks. The arctic circle may also be chilly...

We found Stryn, did a food shop at the local Coop which included two half litre craft beers named after Loen and Olden, and another ice-cream log cake. Then we checked into the Air BNB which was a beautiful, old apartment with two bedrooms, a full kitchen, and a balcony overlooking the fjord. Yes we did have to carry a suitcase up a few flights of stairs, but it was worth it.

We drove back, passed some cows chilling in splendour, then did some damage to the ice-cream log cake.

Rain, Jackets

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.

The Drive From Stryn

The Stryn river.

The drive from the Stryn Kiwi Mini Pris to the cabins at the Geirangerfjorden Feriesenter is only 77 kilometres. Far shorter than other drives I've done so far on this trip. But not many have been this memorable.

We finished loading up with food; Salad, bread, sausages, tuna, yoghurt, corn chips and salsa. We left town, passing the cafe we'd had our first real coffee at, and following the meandering Stryneelva river which is not much of a sight from the ground, but in the air the curves look pretty cool. (I saw a picture of it in the window of a house on Bruagrenda (Bridge Alley) on the walk to go get that coffee.) I tried to take a similar photo myself earlier in the morning, but couldn't find a track up the hill. I did take this one from as high as I got.

We kept driving through the valley towards some not so distant mountains. A little bridge moves the Rv15 from the north to the south of the river, right as the waters open up into the long and wide Oppstrynsvatnet, whose dark surface reflect dark skies and ripples in the wind. Clouds hang just above the tops of the snowy mountains.

There are lots of good rest areas on the side of the road to stop at and admire this, but all the ones with benches were taken. We stopped briefly at a glacier museum with a small garden out the back, but they wanted to charge us to eat there and we didn't want to look at the garden when the mountains were so spectacular and visible from everywhere on the road, so we kept driving.

The distant mountains became so close that we were suddenly driving on switchbacks and the urge to pull over for more photos hit me. Around the next bend was a rocky outlook over a dark valley with just a few streaks of light piercing the clouds. And of course it had a picnic table, which was empty and waiting for us.

Hjelledalen utsiktspunkt

After food, the road continued to climb with another switchback, followed by a long tunnel. It was obvious we were on an incline, but I did not expect to emerge into rocky snow land, submerged in the clouds, with smattering of houses because of course people live there.

It was at this point I started having concerns about the amount of charge in the car's battery. I had not topped up in Stryn because I was paying for a charger that night and the rate was the same no matter how drained the battery was. When I had started driving we'd had range of over 200km, so this wasn't totally motivated by thriftiness. But I hadn't expected the steepness.

We entered a second tunnel, with more incline, and came out even higher - right among the snowy peaks. It was a winter wonderland. Absolutely pure white and amazingly beautiful and unfortunately not a very good place to run out of car battery. It was hard to enjoy the scenery because the battery kept dropping lower and lower and the friendly message to "plug into a charger soon" distracted me from the frozen lakes and icy mountains.

Somehow, despite feeling like we were on the peak of the alps, the road kept rising and the battery kept dropping. We turned off all the systems and just drove and hoped.

Finally, at last, there was a sign warning of a decent length decline and the little blue charge line on the dash switched to the good side. As we descended, the battery went up, and up again, and finally after a long way down without stopping for any photos I felt comfortable enough to stop for a look-see. There was a little, flat spot with some huts beneath a mountain. What made this sight so particularly surreal other than its picturesque beauty was that it was evident that we were still quite high up a mountain.

There was also a bus stop there.

After that, the decent resumed along with the recharging and we left behind mountain fantasy land and hit more switchbacks and the descent into Geiranger. A cruise ship was in port at the time, and the winding roads were packed with tourists in big groups which gave me an excuse to drive quite slowly and enjoy the way the town had been built up the mountainside.

We finally reached the cabins, by that point with over 10% of the battery now available again. We checked in to another place to sleep with an amazing view of nature. After some downtime, and staring at the fjord, I cooked some sausages and we had enough energy in both our bodies and the car to do the waterfall hike.

View from the shores by the cabin. Hard to convey in a static image how enormous the landscape is.


Goats on the way to the waterfall. Later saw a dog that reminded me of Nash devouring goat poops.


Finally, after that, the cabin staff helped me get the charger working and I put myself to bed for the same purpose - to have enough energy for another day of getting up and down this spectacular landscape.

Today I Am Taking Photos In Norway

Yes - it's a FJORD

Yesterday's drive slash controlled descent through the winter wonderland of snow haunted me as a missed opportunity for more pulling over the car to take photos of Norway. So, after some very cold hikes in the morning up the top of the Ørnevegen's switchbacks, we used the afternoon to backtrack up the mountain. This time with a bit more electricity in the battery. Which was good. I'm developing an appreciation for the heated steering wheel feature after I initially dismissed it back in Oslo as unnecessary.




One of the most important lessons I've learnt as Photography-Brad is that the absolute best time to take photos of a place is the first time you see it. Novelty fades really quickly in a new locations as your mind adjusts to the terrain and architecture and light and it's not until you get back to Adelaide and look at photos you took that you realise how different things really were and how you could have just pointed your camera anywhere and taken additional memorable photos. Another important lesson I've learnt is that just because an environment is novel doesn't mean it will translate well to a flat, digital photograph.

So we drove up the snow and fortunately the weather was similar to our previous drive, with plenty of atmospheric mist, but also just enough sunlight to diffuse the clouds and spread light in the different places. It was a tranquil place. Beautiful. The photos don't do it justice.



After the drive yesterday, it was nice just to take our time up in the snow - and then back into the cold car with the steering wheel warming my fingers through the gloves.

Geiranger




Each of these photos was taken in Geiranger, at descending altitudes. A phenomenal geography that I was privileged to spend the past two evenings at.

Norway waterfall fatigue is a real thing. They are everywhere, the equivalent of dead kangaroos on Australian road trips. Even the kitchen tap of every place we've stayed has gushed rapidly by default. But you do see some occasional epic ones which make you pause.

Dalsnibba is the mountain where we stood in the snow, which then melts in spring to create the torrents which carve through rocks to create rivers, which gravity pulls over ledges until eventually the water reaches the fjord, carved by glaciers millions of years ago. Standing on the prow of the ferry that took us and the car from Geiranger to Hellesylt was an incredible experience, an hour of being a tiny human in a canyon of rock. Like the water, we had found our way through meanderings and cascadings to this point.

Ålesund Isn't Venice

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.


Cloudy Places to Eat an Apple


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:

Holey Mountain

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.

Ascension Day

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.