There’s a virtually endless choice of bicycles these days, and most of them cater to a certain type of user. Users who want to ride fast and light. And on the other extreme, it’s for people who want to ride the most dangerous of terrains. I am simplifying of course, but I didn’t find much for someone who just wants to ride.

Few weeks ago, while researching bicycles, I remembered the time I would visit a friend and spend evenings at his terrace when I used to live in Bangalore, India. This was the time when I just started taking cycling somewhat seriously; we would dream about going on long cycling trips. During those discussions we would talk about this legendary bicycle manufacturer called Surly, and one of their flagship models, The Long Haul Trucker. The name oozed calm, calculated, slow burning endurance. The Long Haul Trucker had very little bling, it was made of steel, heavy, dependable and easy to maintain. The bicycle almost reflect the personality of the person who would ride such a bicycle. It’s for the person who is their own arbiter of what’s worth doing & where it is worth going.

Surly hasn’t manufactured The Long Haul Trucker for some time now. They have updated it to a bicycle with modern components and machinery. Even though the original values of the Long Haul Trucker lives on in the newer bicycle model, I couldn’t make myself get it. I am not the calculated, calm person that I imagine the bicycle would be for, someone with a mind calmer than a clear Antarctic winter night.

I have a mind that is worried, restless and tiring, gnawing at it’s own appendages when there’s nothing else to gnaw at; I imagine the only thing that holds it together is the fixtures of a salaried person. I have a savage mind.

So I got the Ogre.

It’s handle wide enough to zip around football sized rocks but it’s body heavy enough to go downhill without rattling. Its big fat 29-inch wheels are there to chew wet mud like bones in the jaws of a hyena, but also to dart through open roads when it’s dark and giants are roaming. The Ogre is not meant for the cool headed fearless explorers. It’s designed for the restless individual itching for a mad dash over the planet.

Hamburg, Germany

I don’t like staying in my tent, unless I am going to sleep of course. During my early camping days I was told that the tent is only a shelter meant for sleeping, not for spending time in. This advice became a habit for me, and has served me very well over the years; but I also rarely experienced rain during camping.

It’s raining now, so I am in my tent. It’s surprisingly boring here inside the tent, I am starting to notice features of my tent. It came with a cloth-shelf where one can put phones or lights. Also in four corners, there’s tiny loops. That’s where I have been hanging some of my wet clothing last few nights.

This is my sixth night in a tent, and I don’t miss my bed. I have figured out a way to toss and turn inside the sleeping bag without actually flipping the sleeping bag itself. Works surprisingly well, the trick is to just put the pillow inside the sleeping bag.

My friends left for Hamburg yesterday. The moment of goodbye was a little emotional, not only because the enormity of my trip became clearer but also one of my best friends in the group will be moving out of Hamburg and this trip was somewhat of a goodbye party; by the time I go back home, he’ll have been gone. They took off from Esbjerg. I thought of staying there, in a hostel maybe, take a day off, recalibrate, but the sudden silence got overwhelming, so I got on the bike, looked for a campsite and kept riding North. Eventually ended up in a rather quaint and very empty campsite in Oksbøl. It was eerie to be almost by myself.

I drank enough coffee that I managed to ride from Oksbøl to Søndervig today, through a variety of landscape. From forest roads to beachy North Sea coast. I do love some rugged Northern coast.

The ride was excellent and beautiful, long stretches of gravel roads over undulating dunes.

By the end of today’s ride I rode quite fast to reach the campsite before 6PM, so that I could get a bread order in. They will bring them in the morning; I asked for two zimtschnecken!

The sound of rain hitting the tent is soothing enough to make me forget about tomorrow’s route and my worries about waking up in a puddle tomorrow morning

Good night!

Søndervig, Denmark

I rolled into a town today which seemed entirely inhabited by people who are here on vacation, and very very few of them. I can hand-count the number of characters I met today, and all of them are in the campsite I am staying in. There are houses; but all are either in the state of disrepair, or set immaculately to accept vacationers. There are no shops, no supermarket, nothing. There’s a church though.

The campsite owner Fabian greeted me with a broad smile. He bought the campsite from the previous owners last November and he’s still making cleanups and repairs. The campsite is vast, and he recommended me a nice little corner for my tent, where there’s not much wind. And apparently there’s a fox in the campsite, so I should take care of my food. I am wondering if I should keep the food outside, maybe I can meet the fox.

This town is sad & quiet. And the silence is only made more deafening by the raging North Sea right next to it. When I was choosing my destination today morning the lack of a supermarket struck me as unusual. There is a town where the appendages of fast moving consumer goods aren’t present. Must be an interesting place, I thought, but then I saw the pictures of a lighthouse. Yesterday a lighthouse took me off guard.

So I thought I shouldn’t miss today’s lighthouse.

I have been riding along the Danish West coast since yesterday, but today I felt the sea for the first time. I saw the waves crashing down, I could smell the salty water, I could hear the raging waves.

A bike mechanic at Husum, in North Western Germany, told us that it only gets better the further North I go. And he was right! I saw flowers growing through asphalt, I had horses greeting me, I saw endless grassy dunes undulating as far as eye could see.

Maybe I stay here tomorrow, walk around the World War era bunkers, take in the melancholy that permeate this salty town. The wind is picking up but maybe the lighthouse is lit.

Good Night!

Bovbjerg, Denmark

My eggs didn’t break, I was afraid they might in the sand dunes and gravel riding. Today wasn’t the best day of riding. Only made 50kms or so. I had to drag and push my bike over sand dunes. And I started very late. In my defence, my initial plan was to stay another night and Bovbjerg. It’s a beautifully rugged place that demands a look around. But then I got restless, and thought might as well push a little further.

While in the Bovbjerg campsite, I spoke with an elderly lady. Probably my longest conversation in German till date, we spoke over coffee about life in Cologne and life in Hamburg. She asked me why I wasn’t using the perfectly good gas burner in the kitchen of the campsite. I told her I liked the atmosphere of cooking outside on my camping stove, but in reality I just don’t know how to handle a full-size gas burner. I haven’t used them since I moved to Germany.

I got a little too adventerous with route planning today, and planned a route through a beach. I had no idea riding on sand even with my fat tires would be so difficult, specially pushing my bike. The weather was good, and while I was struggling with the sand I met a Mother-Daughter duo from the Netherlands. They are going to Skagen, the North corner of Denmark. Our route was very similar, and included a ferry. While waiting for the ferry, I met Belgian Dieter, he specifically said his name is German but he is from Belgium. He has been on the road for a month at this point. After the ferry, we all parted ways.

I didn’t expect it to rain today. I was considering a nice wild-shelter spot today. Danish govt. have shelters all around the country, for camping. They don’t have any modern facilities but they are free, essentially a box for a tent and a table. When I realised the weather was getting worse, I started looking for a commercial campsite. I didn’t want to spend the night in a shelter on a rainy day. The rain started while I was on road; free bike cleaning.

I did find a fruit stall but everything was sold out.

When I arrived at the campsite, it was immediately clear it’s a rather run-down campsite. Very rustic, and very old. Very broken too, full of old unused camper vans and caravans. I realised right next door there is a much more modern and nicer campsite, but then I saw something that tugged my heartstrings.

It’s the common room of the campsite, wrapped in glass walls. It has a certain cosiness that is only manufactured with a life of stories and memorabilia, it reminded of my grandfather’s shack. I turned my bike around, and started looking for a spot to put my tent in. I had to be inside that common room. It’s also where I am right now writing this, while the grandfather clock is ticking away.

The rain made a difference to the riding today; it got very heavy at some point but I could still hear the sound of whirring from the tall wind generators. But funny enough, I was okay with the rain, it didn’t bother me as much as I thought it would. I put on my rain gear and just kept riding. I must have arrived into the journey...

Stenbjerg, Denmark

P.S. I did try to reach the wild-shelter just to see how it was but I couldn’t be bothered put in the effort to ride through grassy terrain.

I suppose it’s not really a day of setbacks if at the end you are enjoying a Durum doner and a coke. Yesterday after the rain, the sky looked so pristine I thought it won’t rain again. I even double checked with an app, but little did I know I had the wrong view open in the app; it would rain again at night and I did not see it. Since I rode in rain, my riding kit was a little bit wet, I happily hung them out to dry, along with my towel, some washed clothes etc. The sun was shining.

I woke up in the morning only to find it raining profusely. Which meant a lot of my clothes weren’t ready to wear. I sulked for a moment, then sucked it up and packed all the wet stuff in. While I was preparing my breakfast, I met the owner of the Stenbjerg campsite. She offered to let me stay in camp as long as it’s raining. She also told me how the camp common room came to be. All that was in there was her mother-in-law’s lifelong collection of trinkets, paintings etc.

I waited for the rain to abate. I had planned a rather meditative and long ride for today with a wild-shelter to spend the night in, with resupply at Thisted, but the route relied on starting early, because headwind would make me very slow.

It was early afternoon when the rain stopped. This time I looked at my now not-so-favourite weather app, and it seemed the parts I’ll be driving through won’t get any rain (It was wrong). Since there’s no real time pressure I decided to start cycling in the afternoon. Within minutes since I started, it started raining lightly. While stopping to put on my rain jacket on, I was faced with the first mechanical problem of the trip. My meditative ride immediately became a mild frustration fest.

The rear axle has dislodged. I suspected it has something to do with the initial tightness of the axle mount when I bought the bike. After some fiddling around, I eventually managed to fix the wheel. It also struck me how important my bike tools are; and that I have zero spares, but that was a problem for future me.

The weather became bad. It started raining heavily and the headwind wasn’t helping either. I just kept riding hoping that eventually the rain would stop.

I almost put on my for-emergencies-only playlist, but it didn’t come to that. I was close to being rattled by the rain. At some point wearing the rain jacket and not wearing it didn’t make any difference, the sweat underneath was almost more wet than the actual rain; I took the rain jacket off. My normal riding jacket was enough insulation from the cold and the fancy goretex fabric helped me cool off a little bit; it is somewhat of a magical fabric. And this made the riding more bearable.

My initial route had some gravel sections, in the rain the mud immediately caked both my legs, my bags, my bike and parts of my face too. My fat bike tires work better on gravel than on tarmac, but the speed also meant loads of mud being sprayed everywhere.

Eventually the rain got a little bit calmer and I found a place to sit down and call an old friend. The conversation made me very aware and happy; regardless of half of my body being caked in mud. I felt gratitude for being able witness a mundane but endlessly vast countryside.

The feeling of gratitude was amplified when I saw cows in two different settings. Some in a farm; and some in free range. Not sure what kind of cow I would be. But it also didn’t matter, I just love when they notice me riding by and look at me for a moment.

Sitting on that bench, I also decided I wasn’t going to a random wild remote shelter tonight. My index finger was numb, and the wet clothing, tent etc. bothered me. I decided to bike to a hostel in Fjerritslev.

“You need a bed!”, the hostel receptionist told me.

I have met a few bike tourers already, and parents of others. When I meet them, the conversations goes very similarly, where I am going, where they are going etc. But the most common topic of all is the topic of distance. Everyone seems to be keen on telling how far they have been travelling every day, which is very admirable in most cases, but also rather uninteresting. Some people took very different routes than I did, but the description I get is usually “it was great” or “it was beautiful”. The nicest conversation I had so far was with two lovely ladies from Netherlands. We talked about the sheep, the cows, the kartofler stalls and weird military installations on the North Sea coast that are surprisingly easy to go inside by mistake. Since we met on the sandy road near Bovbjerg, they even suggested that I take the beach road from Blokhus to Løkken where it’s possible to ride a bike on the beach; the unit of exchange was experiences, not kilometres.

I suppose it’s unreasonable to demand meaningful descriptions about apparently featureless countryside from every stranger, but I can’t help but miss the essence of a trip like this where one is quite literally travelling over vast open landscapes. There must be more to this than distances. But I am not quite sure what it is yet. Maybe I’ll figure it out as I go.

Tomorrow it’s going to rain as it seems like, maybe this time I shouldn’t wait for it to stop.

Fjerritslev, Denmark

The sea was very windy last night, at least the part around Hirtshals; the ferry hub of North Denmark. Rhys, a 20-something college graduate from California and I were sitting in the wind on a bench waiting for the Hirtshals lighthouse to light up. It was already quite late, and I was a little bit under-slept, but the lighthouse seemed too enticing.

The slow moving lens was sweeping the beam across the sky, and we ran to take photos. Later however, we learned the first lighthouse keeper of this lighthouse took his own life after 19 days into the job. Lighthouse keeping must be a very difficult job, specially at this part of the world. The rugged landscape becomes cruel during colder darker months, and the isolation of lighthouse keeping must be exceptionally taxing. And that’s the general feeling I got from this entire coastline, wind and isolation.

The way to Hirtshals was rather uneventful, except I saw a fishing boat, the likes of which I was looking for in Kollerup beach.

Eventually bedtime at Hirtshals was way too late, but all the conversation in the common room was worth a little less sleep last night. I learned about Ireland, Scotland and how to build mountain bike trails by hand, among other things. Little did I know, today would be quite charged.

Today after saying goodbye to Rhys (he’s going to Faroe islands on his £15 bike) I ended up booking the ferry online, ColorLine ferry Hirtshals to Kristiansand in Norway, called Superspeed 1. The ColorLine terminal at Hirtshals was rather complicated, finding my way in was convoluted. I just latched myself to a bigger cycling group, and we eventually figured out how to get inside the ferry’s belly. This ferry’s belly is bigger than the Puttgarden - Rødby ferry.

During the ride I did sit next to a rather smug gentleman, but the children in the seat behind me kept me entertained.

After the ferry arrived in Kristiansand, as I was getting out of the ferry hold I smelled the Norwegian air, it was mostly motorcycle fumes. Way too many motorcyclists in the ferry. I said goodbye to Michel, who I met while we were strapping our bikes and I was in Norway!

After finding a place and gobbling down a burger and a coke I started looking for a place to sleep. I was considering biking somewhere, but it was already quite late in the day. And that’s when I realised I was in a different country and also in a relatively big town compared to the towns I have been visiting last couple of days. Along with the indecision of where to camp, everything got way too overwhelming very quickly. I have been to Denmark quite a few times, and it does give me a certain amount of comfort and confidence while planning or looking for things. Norway isn’t like that for me.

It was also immediately clear that my steel bike (with all my stuff) is very heavy for the uphills. Speaking of steel, I met a gentleman from Schleswig-Holstein who used to be an engineer specialising in steel manufacturing. He worked in India at the Jamshedpur Tata Steel plant for some time. We spoke a little sitting on a bench at Løkken, and it seemed the wealth gap in India some 40 years ago was still stuck with him, much the same way the conversation stuck with me.

I sat down on a bench in the Kristiansand church courtyard, it was one of those what-am-I-doing-here moments. It’s also partially my doing that I didn’t plan or look ahead anything at all. That’s when a gentleman approached me, offering me a bag full of vadas, at least I think those were vadas. He said his friend gave them to him, and he would love to share them with me. I was still full from the burger, so I didn’t take any. But his smiling face and a bag full of vadas calmed me down.

Kristiansand, Norway

I don’t know when it started raining last night but my tent-in-puddle fear came true. But the tent held up surprisingly well. It was so much rain that today I decided to ride in my camp trousers and rain kit. It was a very valid idea before I started biking today, because I wanted to get a feel for the Norwegian terrain, it was supposed to be a short 50km ride to the next city from Kristiansand to Mandal. But the rain never stopped, and it got cold and uphills were quite difficult. It probably will get slightly better with my tire pressure and wheel’s rolling resistance. Maybe tomorrow I’ll try inflating it a little more.

In the morning I realised my eggs were gone, they weren’t in a bag and I found egg shells strewn around my campsite. I left the eggs on a table overnight foolishly, along with some other stuff that I didn’t want to bring into the tent. I blame those sparrows, they have been extra curious since last evening. So it had to be beans and bread for breakfast for me.

A bike mechanic I met at Hirtshals gave me some bike maintenance tips, I wanted to perform them but the rain made that impossible. I had lost a handlebar end cap in Germany when I hit a fence. I had a bit of tape covering the end of the handlebar since; that fell off today. Probably have to figure out a more permanent solution before the inside of the handlebar gets rusty.

For a moment I was considering taking the train to Stavanger or Bergen directly. It was a bit of decision paralysis today morning, as magical as this freedom of look-at-the-map-and-go-anywhere sounds. The weather was absolutely not good for riding a bike. Skipping this southern part of the journey would reduce with the hassle of figuring out places to sleep, buy supplies etc. I have a pretty good route set up from Bergen until Nordkapp that follows the official National Norwegian Cycle Route. But also I wasn’t completely convinced I wanted to miss this part of the journey. Then I rationalised today’s ride as a few training rides before the real ride begins.

So I packed my wet everything in bags, while doing so broke the bag of pasta. So now there’s loose penne in my bag. Better than sleeping in a puddle a second night.

I did not expect so much politeness on the road. Cars won’t pass me unless I tell them to, people would see me crossing and stop to let me cross first. People waving and smiling at me on the streets. A delightful riding experience, only marred by the bloody rain on my face! Again, very impressed by Goretex fabric.

The first time I came around a corner exposed to a fjord, I didn’t realise it was a fjord until I stopped and looked around.

I had stopped at a gas station to satiate my hunger and thirst; I didn’t pack any snacks in the morning which was a mistake, I felt super weak by the end. But while at the gas station, neither did I think I would impress a gas-station employee simply by the idea of riding long distance on a bike, nor did I think I can munch on an entire bag of cashews.

I decided on a Airbnb hoping to dry my stuff. And when I made to the Airbnb, and I got way more than I bargained for; the place has floor heating and an exceptionally considerate host who turned the heating on expecting me to be wet and cold. But I already had recovered quite a bit, at a Burger King in Mandal.

Today is the first time I saw a modern fishing boat up close at the Mandal harbour, turns out Mandal harbour is also a campsite for boats. I saw a tiny boat. I am always fascinated by workspaces from occupations other than mine, specially occupations that has an innate aspect of isolation. This cabin had little trinkets and customisation that was surely meant for the person who works on it. Reminded me of the video game Dredge.

One thing is clear from today’s ride, I will see a whole lot of boats.

P.S. Whatever a random person offered me yesterday, which I thought to be a vada is actually a Smultringer.

Mandal, Norway

Fjord water is salty water; it makes sense when you think about it, but the fact disappeared from my mind when I was thirsty. So now I have to clean out the salty water from my water filter. I eventually did manage to find water in the form of Coke and Fanta. And I had a big pizza to soak it all up. Running out of water on a sunny day is no fun! Had quite a few mechanical issues today as well, brakes rubbing, axle getting misaligned under force etc. I suppose during my last repair job I didn’t tighten the axle enough. Managed to fix all of them somewhere. Then a welder walked by asking me whose kit was heavier, I said “Definitely yours!”. I am now seriously taking my friend’s advice on keeping bike weight in check, but also by now I have a pretty good idea what is useless. Maybe tomorrow I’ll drop by the post office.

The comfort of the Airbnb was enough to make me stay one night longer in Mandal. Staying one more night wasn’t a problem by itself, but I didn’t want to have to strip myself off of the cosy house the second day, when it would be much harder. Cute little towns have a way of pulling you in.

Slept very long today. Very late to start the bike ride today as well. I spent quite a bit of time trying to decide out whether I should take a bus to Stavanger (again), only to realise these bus route don’t have bike spots, so I have to ride my way there. Another Nordkapp-er I met in Denmark is also on his way to Stavanger from Oslo. Maybe this way I’ll meet him in Stavanger as well. But one development route-wise is that I will be taking a ferry from Stavanger to Bergen.

Maybe I’ll stay in Lyngdal one more day, bask in the Sun and sleep a little longer.

At some point due to the uphill gradient, right after a girl shouted at me “Go go go!” from a car window, I had to get off my bike and walk. Funny enough, that was also when I snapped back into reality. I became aware of where I was. Somewhere that’s neither reachable by public transport nor anyone has any need to be there. I am quite literally walking through a landscape that’s just there, with a tiny slice of infrastructure, the road.

Lyngdal, Norway

So I have fixed & cleaned my bike finally. Turns out I had brake pads rubbing the disc all the way yesterday. Also fixed some of the organisational aspects of the setup, to make for easier and faster packing. Hopefully this will help me get up and on the road quicker. In terms of planning, lot of has changed from my initial planning in Hamburg. Instead of carrying multiple days of food, I am making a point to carry only the next meal or none at all. I am quite certain the more North I go, where resupply points will be less frequent, then I would have to. But for now I don’t have to carry much. I have been carrying some food from the time we crossed into Denmark, which may or may not be edible at this point.

I used to catch a particular sense of contentment during longer trips, it wouldn’t happen very often but sometime I would experience it; It’s almost like sweeping over a radio station while looking for another. It would come most unexpectedly, and would fade away very quickly. I can only describe it as being aware of a moment, experiencing myself experiencing it. I must admit, I have been looking for it since I left Hamburg. I am not sure if I will be able to experience it very often, given during my off-bike time I am usually thinking of where to ride my bike next. It took quite a bit of convincing myself to stay here today in this camp-ground. There’s generally an itch to move, to see what’s next, to sleep somewhere new. If this was a video game, I would be doing the main quest. But maybe the main quest is the point. The itch is almost unavoidable specially when I see my bike on the ground; the raw freedom it represents is overwhelming.

Speaking of my bike, I still have to name it.

Today I learned that Norway is no joke. If a route isn’t valid, there’s no quick detour. The topography of the landscape makes it especially complicated. Today I found out that on my route there’s a bridge that was under repair, and I had to turn around a few times only to figure out another valid route. That other route also had a gate, which I had to go over, which wasn’t easy with my heavy bike. Not sure if I trespassed, but I really had to get to the hotel.

Apparently this road used to be the main route to Moi, during WW2. And now the route is a historical landmark, and I had the fortune to watch the sunset from the highest point in this road. But I was tired, very tired. At this point I was already more than 12 hours on (and off) the bike. I had guzzled six or seven pints of gatorade and coke. Twice I stopped at supermarkets to buy food and drinks.

But today’s decisions were mostly riddled with mistakes. I couldn’t have known that the bridge was broken, I didn’t even know there was a bridge until I was there. But I shouldn’t have planned such a long route knowing that the gradients on the uphills are very high, specially since I didn’t plan out a campsite or such. The old road was also very steep, I am worried I might have worn off the brake pads just by coming down that path. I hadn’t experienced such a steep downhill gradient before. In general downhill switchbacks are very hard on the brakes, I suppose tomorrow a check is warranted.

The problem with long routes is time. I thought I had plenty of time before I discovered the broken bridge, and I was supposed to go shopping afterwards for food. Coupled with extraordinarily steep uphills, the entire route was slow on the bike. I barely made it to the hotel to buy food, but eventually when I checked in, it was too late. Worst case, I could have camped somewhere out of the town, but finding a reasonably flat surface is trickier than I thought. A natural square meter of flat grassy patch of land is surprisingly rare I realised, specially in this rocky terrain. Luckily, I had some food with me, so I managed to eat after entering the hotel. It’s an old hotel in the process of being renovated. Which actually makes it a little more authentic than a hotel that’s trying to hold on to the old-timey charm. In this hotel, it’s not a special feature, just quite literally the hotel during its transformation. Everything reeks of the 70s. And Receptionist Youssef is the probably the nicest receptionist who I probably had to wake up to get my keys.

I must say, today’s ride was extraordinarily long and lonely. I suppose that’s how ultra-endurance racers feel. But I did meet someone from Seattle; made my day. We chatted a little bit, around her trip and mine. She is on her way to Copenhagen. It gave me a little bit of oompf that I needed until I ran into the bridge problem.

I thought since the bridge is broken, there must be an alternate bike path, or a walking path. I suppose theoretically I could have thrown my bike across a tiny stream and somehow scramble up a small cliff to the other side but at this point I was already tired and confused. I did find a little abandoned railway station below the bridge.

Just as I was leaving I saw two people riding one of these bicycle style train trolleys.

When I left today the receptionist in Camp Lyngdal took a photo of me for their facebook page. She said she has seen 6 hikers / bikers this season who have something to do with Nordkapp. I think have an idea about where all the bikers are, but that’s for another day.

Near the end of today’s ride, I was truly tired, and I thought if I would actually make it to Nordkapp. It was getting cold, my water was running out and I barely had any snacks left. That’s when I met a local couple who were out testing their new German E-bikes. They confirmed my route was correct and should end up in Moi. They grow grass which then they can feed their animals during winter. Before parting they gave me the last bit encouragement when they learned I have been riding since 9 in the morning. They said, “Ah it’s all flat from here on out!”. It wasn’t.

Good night!

Moi, Norway

I suppose the best part about my trip is not how I am travelling but the places I visit and the people I meet along the way and their perspective on the places I visit. And experiencing that is somewhat antithetical to the idea of moving everyday, my time can not be spent only planning my route and riding the route. So I took a day to stop here for the day, breath in this tiny town.

The motorway E39 goes through Moi, and it’s a typical stop where people can fill the tanks of their car, maybe have a little something before moving on. But that’s pretty much all there is in this town, a bunch of supermarkets, a few restaurants, a salon and a Pentecostal church. It has a tiny marina, and the river Moisåna goes by it. I took the Tronåsen way to get to it, which is a very steep road over the hills that used to be quite useful during the war I have been told.

The hotel I am staying at is run by Youssef. A very kind man who also talked a little bit about the new hotel and his new life outside of Oslo. He says life at Moi is very peaceful, people have the time to stop, talk & listen, and even though he has a hundred chores to do around the hotel, he isn’t particularly stressed like he used to be in Oslo. There are things to repair, things to replace in this very old hotel and he has plans. He wants to open a gym and a 24-hour kiosk next to the hotel. It seems to me that he’s on this endless project to bring this hotel back to it’s former glory. I assume it had a glorious time because of its lounge with the bar. It still has some vestiges of bygone glamour, as glamorous as a tiny town hotel can be. I imagine there used to be piano recitals and mild dancing in the lounge. Youssef’s laid back personality and his most commonly used phrase, “Call me if you need something”, stuck with me. This is a man who moved out of a big city, took on the massive job of reopening and running a hotel that was closed for years in a town that barely has anything other than the bare essentials and yet seems to be rather excited about it; he’s busy yet available.

As for me, my little adventurous detour deviated quite a bit from National Cycle Route 1, and the road to Egersund from here is not going to be particularly pretty with a lot of motorways and such. The E motorways in Norway don’t explicitly prohibit pedestrians and cyclists, but it’s just not nice to ride a bike on them. So I will take a train to Egersund, or maybe directly to Sandnes, near Stavanger. It’s evening and I looked at Youssef’s room from the hotel courtyard. He probably already had dinner; the lights are on, I imagine he’s waiting for the next guest to arrive.

Good night!

Moi, Norway

I haven’t rode the bike for two days, which is giving me an itch. I took the train to Sandnes, didn’t feel like riding on busy motorways. I did meet another bike tourer from Germany today at the Moi train station, she gave me a lot of good tips for the trip ahead, including where to camp etc. She was travelling back to Oslo, too bad my train got there and I hadn’t had a chance to catch her name. Getting the bike on the train was a rather relaxing affair. The conductor was patient, asked me to take my time & load my bike in the luggage compartment. And after she signalled the train to start, she checked my ticket, realised I was in the wrong compartment and said “Just sit anywhere!”. The ride was beautiful, reminded me a lot of Himalayan foothills, but with Fjords, lots and lots of Fjords. The kid in the coach kept me entertained.

Once I reached to Sandnes, I got that overwhelming sense of purposelessness that I got in Kristiansand. Big cities are inherently lonelier than the middle-of-nowhere roadside benches, to me. They are sadder and hotter, due to the concrete. I immediately went to my comfort restaurant for lunch, a kebab place. I asked for a döner. A seagull almost ate it.

The area I am staying in is an industrial outskirt; there is nothing much around. I did find a Dominos for lunch, and had a pizza while it rained cats and dogs.

That’s also when I made the decision to not take the ferry from Stavanger to Bergen, but go island hopping until I reach Bergen.

Sandnes, Norway

I have heard that Stavanger’s sky gets blocked by cruise ships in the harbour, but I always thought of that as a hyperbole. Today I learned, it’s not really an hyperbole.

I don’t know how to enjoy big cities. Without the intellectual exercise around its history, geography or politics, it usually boils down to be just buildings, parks and houses. Stavanger is no different, they even have a preserved part of the city from 18th century, called Gamle Stavanger. But I was neither excited nor curious about the city. When I reached the harbour, it was extremely clear that almost everyone around me is from the cruise ship AIDA Perle; nothing inherently wrong in having a lot of visitors, but a lot of the experiences around the harbour were fabricated to the likings of said visitors which was something I was not looking for.

It all changed when a delightfully knowledgable man in the Stavanger Maritime Museum offered me to show around. He told me not only about general maritime history of Stavanger, but also the general history of sailing on the entire coast. Turns out the sprat (sardine) canning industry in Stavanger has it’s root in supporting the sailors with food for their long voyages. He also recommended me to look around the canning museum, which also worked hand in hand with the Stavanger’s typography and printing industry. Turns out labelling cans was a big deal. It seemed to me that the canning museum building is an old canning factory, with fish smoking shelves and whatnot. Other than heavy mechanical can seaming machines the most interesting part of the museum was it’s floors. The floors must have been perpetually wet and the rooms smelly during the factory’s heyday; they were broken and worn.

The man’s enthusiasm about the exhibits they have been working on was so delightful and wholesome, I stayed quite long in the museum, ignoring the fact I hadn’t had lunch yet. Turns out he used to a bike racer in his youth and he held his school record for a long time. Unfortunately, I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye properly, other patrons awaited him. Eventually, I came back to my Airbnb. There I met an offshore oil platform professional who’s also staying in the same house. I did not know oil platforms have so much going on inside them, from engineering work to food & entertainment. Apparently they have movie theatres in and cakes on weekends!

Since this morning, part of me wanted to be on the road but also I felt oddly lethargic about getting back on the road. I suppose creature comforts make it harder; the Airbnb have been so cosy! But then stories in the maritime museum cured my lethargy. I am not a sailor, I don’t have a boat. But I do have a bike and everything I need fits on that bike. I can’t be a dot in vast endless ocean, but I can be a dot on vast endless land.

Sandnes, Norway

Today I waited for my ferry from Stavanger to Nedstrand for more than three hours, and the weather was less than nice. My initial plan was to go another 50km from my ferry stop to Haugesund. When I eventually reached the ferry stop it was raining, Nedstrand seemed like an exceptionally small town. The population got scarcer, the landscape changed slightly, and the road got very smooth. No construction sites, no people, just liminal spaces; houses, churches, schools and wide open land. All of a sudden the trip felt exciting again.

The rain didn’t seem to have any intention of stopping, so I thought of stopping. I saw a camp sign to the left and I veered. I thought I won’t be dry, but I wouldn’t have to ride in the rain at least. And on top of that the accomodation at Haugesund wasn’t particularly appealing; apparently the campsite there didn’t have any tent spots left; I have a pet peeve against campsites that treats itself like a hotel. I did consider camping in the wild, but finding a suitable spot in rain was even less appealing. Haugesund has quite a few hotels, but I wasn’t going to stay in a hotel; hotels and Airbnbs makes me too comfortable.

Turns out I turned left to a campsite which is also it’s own town I suppose. It’s probably the largest campsite I have seen so far, and also the most casually self-serviced one. There is no one, you can drop money (including Euros) in a letterbox and stay.

When I finally finished dinner, the Sun came out. For a moment I thought I could have biked for a few more hours, but then again, what’s the rush, right?

Sandvik, Norway

The most frustrating thirty minutes of this trip so far has to be last night’s jammed sleeping bag zipper. It’s especially annoying because that was the only thing preventing me from getting cosy. Eventually with a multitool and an unhealthy amount of cursing I managed to unjam the zipper and I wasn’t sleepy anymore.

Today morning it kept raining until I reached Haugesund. I wanted to go a little further, but then I met a lot of interesting people. Most folks traveling as couples; some folks going south, some east, some north. I went to a cafe for lunch and as I was leaving the cafe, I met another undeniably cool person who is also riding a Surly Ogre (my bike make). All the conversations I had today was totally worth using up the day in Haugesund. Haugesund is somewhat interesting as a city, being close to the old Viking power center of King Harald Fairhair. But apart from a monument and a mysterious cross on the hill, I couldn’t find much more. The girl at the campsite reception said “The monument is probably Harald’s grave, but no one knows!”. Haugesund also hosts a film festival.

The campsite at Haugesund isn’t as uptight as I imagined it to be. Right next to the coast; the organisation is quite laid back, but with a hint of being a serious business. It rained so much during the time I was setting up camp, my tent got wet on the inside. So in hopes of drying up my tent, I took some time in the grocery store and figured out a dinner. I must say these polarbröd could be my next go-to.

It’s very windy at the coastal campsite, enough to shake the tent structure, but hopefully my pitching alignment will keep the rainfly from tearing off the tent, I guess I’ll find out tomorrow.

Good Night!

Haugesund, Norway

I want to talk a little bit about myself because today was strange, in a good way. Last night and this morning was windy and rainy; already sapped my spirit a little. And given my knee & wrists were hurting last couple of days, and with today’s headwind I didn’t think I would make all the way to Stord from Haugesund. I thought I would have to cut the ride somewhere in the middle. Not long after starting I learned first-hand valleys channel wind very effectively and construction sites are more frequent than any map provider makes it to be. It wasn’t going very good.

I was crawling at a snails pace, barely making any progress to the ferry station. But then something happened; I am not exactly sure what but I forgot that I was riding a bike, only to be awakened by my Garmin’s occasional beep. The wind, the hills, none of it remained in my consciousness. It’s the closest I have come to meditate, or being possessed by some cycling spirit.

Every time I realised where I was and what I was experiencing, I felt pure elation.

Eventually I reached today’s campsite, and was welcomed by the nicest kindest campsite host. He gave me the best spot to rest for the night.

Good night!

Stord, Norway

I took the wrong ferry. Instead of going to Halhjem, I ended up taking the ferry to Husavik. After leaving Stord, I thought I would take the ferry to Halhjem from Sandvik ferry terminal (not the other Sandvik I camped at). But at the ferry terminal there were signs for Bergen ferry and Husavik ferry. Since I wanted to ride my bike from the ferry terminal to Bergen, I incorrectly assumed that the Bergen ferry was going directly to Bergen. And the Husavik line must be the Halhjem ferry, just named differently. Sometimes the ferry terminal name is not the same as the nearest town name. And all the time-tables at that ferry terminal were confusing, not to mention two different ferry “adapters”. Right at the moment the ferry started I realised I was at the wrong ferry!

The weather wasn’t good since I left Stord, and it was turning worse every minute. I had my lunch break at Fitjar, salad and apples, for a change. I thought it would give me the last bit of push I would need to reach Bergen. I wasn’t worried about accommodation either, Bergen is a big city, I would have found a hostel or something. Everything was on track.

After the wrong ferry I ended up at a random island, at its south there is Husavik; at its north it’s Storebø and Hufthammer. Turns out the island is small, I can easily traverse it. But given the confusion and wait at the ferry terminal, I already lost quite a bit of time. I thought of camping out on the wild, but the weather was not getting any better and it wasn’t late enough to pitch a tent somewhere random. I looked for an accommodation on the island, and there were a few, I tried calling. I suspect the reception desks were closed by then. So my other option was take another ferry up North, to Krokeide, and start towards Bergen and sleep somewhere in the wild. I had resupplied at Storebø, plenty of food with me. But the weather wasn’t looking good, and the closer I am to towns, the harder it is to find a spot to camp out in the wild.

When I reached the Krokeide-Hufthammer ferry line, it was raining cats and dogs. Fortunately, there was a waiting room where I could wait for the ferry. While sitting there I called a bunch of accommodations near Bergen. One motel / campsite responded.

When I got quite close to the campsite, I encountered quite a few construction sites that blocked the roads to the campsite. At this point my frustration reached its peak, and it took me some time to find a route that does not go through construction zones. I probably also broke quite a few traffic rules today, but I didn’t care either! I was cold, wet and I had bright blinking lights all over me.

Eventually, after 12 hours after I left last night’s peaceful campsite, I came to tonight’s campsite, only to realise the showers only operates with Norwegian kroner, which I didn’t have, so no warm shower for me tonight.

Practically every bit of rain protection failed today so me and my things are rather wet but tomorrow seems like it is going to be sunny.

On the bright side, I did see an old sawmill, the Rydland Sawmill.

Midtun, Norway

So I met Michel yesterday in Bergen. And serendipitously also came across Bob, Miriam and Fredrik, all of whom I met first at Haugesund. Everyone is going their own way, except Michel, who will not only go to Nordkapp, but then ride back to Belgium through Sweden; He started from Brussels, and since I met him in the ferry in Kristiansand he already did two zigzags of half the country sideways, while I was mostly just traversing.

I love that Michel refers to the trip as a project. Makes me feel that the trip has a purpose. Despite all the romanticisation of aimlessness, specially in the cultural pocket I grew up in, aimlessness sits very heavy on me. Part of me has been getting a little tired of moving; without the framework of purpose, moving or not moving makes zero difference. Meeting & talking to the folks rejuvenated that tired part a little.

I was in Bergen in 2019, and it was instantly clear that the city has changed and morphed so much since then. The city feels more vibrant, populated, touristy and politically active. My Airbnb host and I had a very interesting conversation about Norway, economics and undersea Salmon farming’s engineering and maintenance. But before I met Michel at a bar, I just didn’t feel well in the city, the same way I didn’t feel very well in Stavanger. And I have been trying to articulate the reason throughout the day. It’s not only the intellectual exercise around a city or lack thereof, as I wrote before. It’s not that I don’t like travelling to places where there is infrastructure & businesses built for the purpose of tourism. I suppose the difference is in the modality of being; Am I home, am I on a tour or am I travelling? If I have to describe the discomfort of cities on this trip, I have to learn the language of describing traversing open land on foot (or bike). Maybe it warrants the designation of travel and not a tour; as does long winded backpacking across continents for example. The distinction is in how the places are reached and the velocity of change. Maybe I will try to elaborate one day when I don’t have to get up early the next morning.

On other news, I seem to share similar opinion with the other bike tourers I met about the lack of bike tourers on this part of Norway. Everyone seems to have expected meeting many more people on bikes, including me. And I think the reason is that this part is way too hilly and jagged to bike comfortably. Also that’s probably the reason why Eurovelo 1 route starts from Bergen in Norway. But it’s just a theory; because the Rosyth (Scotland) to Bergen ferry line doesn’t exist anymore, so maybe the Eurovelo route just needs to be updated.

In Bergen this time I hung around in museums, they seem to be the most comfortable place for me among stories of the place it used to me.

And I did see a helicopter landing on top of the local hospital. I heard they fly mostly sea rescue missions. I hope whoever was involved is doing fine.

Bergen, Norway

The rain almost broke my spirit to move today. I checked forecasts, I waited, and when I started moving eventually the rain seemed to have been subsiding. But a burger and coke later, it was worse. My optimism for the weather, and finding a campsite was low. The problem with route planning and finding campsite is that a lot of campsite require large detours, specially around broken landmasses in Norway which I wasn’t willing to do in the rain. I convinced myself I would camp somewhere in the wild; I can handle the rain, I told myself.

When I reached Knarvik; it was raining cats and dogs. I bought pre-cooked food and Chamomile tea. I thought if I was going to camp in the wild and have cold food, I might as well have some tea with me to warm me up. My will to move was so low I considered putting on my emergency music playlist. Luckily it didn’t come to that.

Just before leaving the supermarket and Knarvik, I managed to find a campsite that’s reasonably close to the Eurovelo 1 route near Mangar. I could still have my tea. As I was starting my last push, I spotted Michel. He repaired his bike today and also started late. We were both pretty beat up in the rain, so we decided to ride together to the same campsite.

It got sunny eventually.

Mangar, Norway

Yesterday’s sunny afternoon was a total bluff. It started raining sometime in the morning and it’s still raining. I didn’t wait too long for the rain to stop today, I just decided to start in the rain, which was not a bad idea, since the alternative was to stay in my tent. So I made my peace with the rain and started riding North. The problem started when I started getting cold. That prompted today’s chain of events.

I took a ferry from Leirvåg to Sløvag, and debated whether to go as far as possible and then camp in the wild. I was reasonably stocked on food and water, but I was also very cold. The forecast was clear in the evening, but I was not going to trust that, specially after this week. Today I made the mistake of not putting on my full rain gear when I started riding, thinking the rain would subside.

Amid all of this planning, replanning, checking grocery stores, checking campsites, checking distances, ferry times; I realised I haven’t been having fun. Granted, part of it is that I haven’t seen good weather since last week (not counting yesterday afternoon); but also I have only been playing this planning Sudoku puzzle.

So today I decided I would talk to as many people as I can, as long as I want to, and I would eat canned Mackarel with rice for dinner, inspired by Michel and Adrian, my Airbnb host in Bergen.

The Mackarel was good!

Risnes, Norway

Yesterday I met Kristof. It was nice to meet another cyclist for a change. He rolled into the camp quite some time after I had arrived, and we had a good time planning the next day. He reminded me that today’s ferry is irregularly scheduled, it’s not every hour like the previous ferries. Right before we were about to go to bed it started pouring again. Today after breakfast he moved on slightly ahead, while I started a little bit later with a wet tent. The cold got to me quickly right after I started, my socks were still wet and given I wasn’t sure when the weather was going to change, I didn’t want to risk more dry socks.

Today weather wasn’t particularly encouraging. Even though it didn’t rain, it was quite cold. A few hill climbs later, I ended up next to a lake, and it was nice enough that I decided to stay there for a while.

It wouldn’t be the end of the world if I took the later ferry, I thought. But the last stretch to the ferry, combined with the cold prompted me to cut my trip short and I decided on a nearer camping spot. The weather was still not looking good and I was not going to camp in the wild. The wait for the ferry also got a little bit cold, and I ended up pretty tired in the ferry. There I met another bike touring couple from Switzerland who treated me to coffee and gave me a bit of sagely advice to slow down and enjoy! They also mentioned that this region is the rainiest region in Europe, which now makes a lot of sense to me.

Today was also a day of tunnels, and I found tunnels with exposed rock walls a bit creepy. Riding through it feels almost like the walls are closing in on me.

It all changed when I met Kjell. I met him after I disembarked from the ferry at Rysjedalsvika. He was tending to his garden. I waved at him, and we immediately started talking. We spoke about his job as a sailor where he visited Visakhapatam port in India. We talked about Norwegian dialects, Bokmål and Nynorsk, and how they are taught in schools. He told me where he grew up and when he bought the new house, what kind of garden he wants to make and it’s problems, and how Fjord communities are structured, among other things.

He offered me strawberries from his garden. Initially I picked one up, out of politeness; and he immediately went into action and picked up two handful of fresh strawberries and handed them to me.

It had been a few hard days of being wet, cold and riding. I took my leave from Kjell; only after a while I realised that his strawberries, openness & warmth had moved me. Iggy Pop’s The Passenger started playing in my head and I began to weep.

Hyllestad, Norway

Last night when I reached the campsite at Birkeland, Kristof was already there. After Katell, who is also going to Nordkapp joined us at the campsite, we discussed next day’s plans, it was clear that it would rain heavily today evening. So the best bet would be to go to a reasonably bigger town, Førde, and staying dry in a hostel perhaps. But the problem, Førde was also quite far away, specially with this terrain. There were two acceptable paths there from Birkeland (Hyllestad), one inland, and one along the coast. The coastal road is quite longer. Remembering yesterday’s advice, I chose the coastal road. It didn’t disappoint, even managed to convince Katell to join for the longer route.

Given the wait for the ferry was already quite long, I decided to stay at Askvoll, so that I can avoid riding late in the rain. Even before I could finish shopping at the supermarket, it started raining. I hurried to the campsite, only to realise it’s a campsite for boats. There’s barely anything, except a shower and a toilet. And turned out the showers operate on Norwegian Krones. I didn’t have any.

I met a backpacker cooking right in front of the shower / toilet building. She was using the roof’s overhang to save her food from the rain. She graciously gave me 10 krones which I needed to operate the shower. I did make a mental note of the rainy cooking situation for later.

On a more dry note, I have learned to put up my tent in rain without making the inside wet.

Askvoll, Norway

I suppose doing things that are somewhat scary over and over can make them exciting. At least that’s what happened to me for longer tunnels. I am still not completely over the creeps yet, but tunnels are becoming more fun. Today I also took my time to feel how weird sounding and cold the tunnels are. And also learned shorter tunnels are great shelters of animals. Some are even officially recognised as animal shelters.

Today started with very heavy rain. Got better in between, and got really bad at the end. And now in Førde it’s somewhat dry, but I am not trusting anything anymore, so I took up a room in a guesthouse. When I rolled into Førde however, it looked exactly like a town in Terai!

I had my lunch break interrupted by rain but I did treat myself to a burger at the end.

At some point, my bike computer bugged!

Other than that, I saw a lot today (when it was not raining).

Good Night!

Førde, Norway

Today was another mostly uneventful day where I just smashed pedals until I reached my destination, except it was rainy, windy, and sometimes both. The route also had a few sections over busy roads, so all in all, was not a particularly nice ride. But I also went through quiet places, over the hills, with not a soul around. I faced wind so strong I couldn’t even roll downhill. I felt hunger, frustration, exhilaration, cold. I saw roads that are almost abandoned, except for cyclists who dare to cross.

I was warned about the climb today by Andy from Australia. He was going the other way when I met him. Fortunately the climb itself was fine for me. But ever since I entered Norway, there have been almost always people around. Only a few times I came across places that are reasonably remote, with marks of human constructions and structures, but without a soul in sight, sometimes with a sign of decay. Today on top of my climb was one of those places. There was a house, but it didn’t seem like anyone was there. There was a tunnel, but didn’t seem like it is very well maintained, there was even a “road closed” sign before the tunnel. I thought for a bit what that could imply before going inside.

The slowest and most agonising part of today’s ride was probably the last 20 kilometres or so where I faced headwind from the sea. It was amazingly strong wind, enough to make me get to a rest spot right before the town of Florø. There I met Kenneth. I saw him in his parked car when going to the bench at the rest spot, Kenneth realising what I have been going through, came out of his car and gave me a can of Pepsi!

We spoke a lot about salmon farming, its environmental impact. Big food corporations in Norway monopolising food and controlling the prices. We spoke about cars, data and privacy, canned fish industry etc. He told me what to look for in the salmon farms to see if they are feeding the salmon at that moment; we saw one feeding. Apparently these salmon farm feeding process is automated. But sometimes the salmon escape due to technical faults, and then the salmon farm owners reward local hobby fishers for catching those salmons; these farmed salmons are genetically modified. He also told me about the old monastery on the Island of Selja. I am now considering a visit there.

I am realising the limitations of my gear, the North Sea is relentless and wild, unlike the domesticated winter & rain I usually experience in Hamburg. So maybe some expedition grade gear would make it easier. Maybe tomorrow...

When I finally reached the campsite, I very quickly realised putting up a tent would be a nightmare in the wind and also I don’t have extra pegs for wind protecting my tent (not expedition grade). So I asked the campsite host if he has a cabin. Cabins are expensive, but he graciously offered me a discount. It’s very luxurious; I treated myself to it.

I suppose I am starting to see what auteur Hideo Kojima wanted us to see in his last video-game Death Stranding; the poetry in not-going-anywhere-fast. It’s not that every day is an adventure; or that every day exciting new things are supposed to happen. Quite the opposite, it’s the mundanity of moving over a planet that exists. Yes, there are exciting moments here and there, but the highlights of my days are unremarkable; the slow passing of time, the almost static image of a mountain, the grass moving with the wind, water droplets in air from a waterfall, the sound of a stream, looks from curious farm animals, the sound of tires over gravel, the taste of a supermarket muffin, the sensation of being somewhere.

Good Night!

Florø, Norway

Today is a quiet day; I am waiting for the ferry in Fløro to Måløy. I was hoping to drink some coffee and sit at a cafe during my wait, but everything here is closed on Sunday. So I am waiting in the waiting room of the terminal.

Today is also a day of re-calibration. It’s been a month since I left Hamburg. With my current pace, I can probably end up in Nordkapp with a few days to spare, and go back to Hamburg. But time feels constrained at this point. With the weather not helping, I can only go much and also maintain some amount of relaxation.

I could skip parts of the trip, take a bus or train, or even a cruise. But then there’s the question of how much to skip. I can even go until Bodø, skip the entire Trondheim to Bodø leg. Or go to Trondheim, or even just to Ålesund.

There’s also the option of just pedal and sleep, the most feral option. With almost twenty fours hour of daylight, I can go as long as I want, camp, eat, sleep and repeat. This will also be the most taxing and isolating. I probably won’t stop to look, or write. And with this weather, there will be very little comfort. I don’t think I want to be in that mode for too long.

Then there’s the financial aspect, I have been getting comfortable every time I had the chance, eating out, taking up room when the weather is bad, which has been very rejuvenating for my soul but rather heavy on the wallet. I am thankful to have that financial cushion; last night was so windy, that my heavy bike got toppled from a wall. I can only imagine what would happen to my tent. But in the other hand, I can’t keep falling back to comfortable options every time the weather gets bad or I am tired, specially since my entire route follows the coastline.

I can also maintain the purity of the trip (if such a thing exists) and bike until time runs out or money runs out, which to me the most appealing. This has some potential for logistical challenges but nothing that can’t be overcome. It is also the most dreamlike option among it all.

Or I can mix and match all these, but with the unpredictability of weather and relatively fixed route that I need to follow, weighing which option is optimal when is tricky. But also, I can also avoid doing math, and experience whatever is next.

You and I both know you are just making up excuses to not get on the bus, and it’s not because you can’t figure out how to get the tickets. You say it’s hard riding in rain, but you do it anyway; I haven’t seen you stopping for a day because of rain. You say you want a nice comfortable ride; but you have taken zero steps to make it easier for you, do you know why?

Because deep down, you want to experience it all. I know it, and you just deny it. You feel the exhilaration, so do I. You feel the burn, so do I. You just keep telling yourself that’s not fun, but you know it is, I know it is.

I understand you don’t want to accept who you are, you keep spinning this narrative of “a tour”. You keep telling yourself you need the creature comforts, the niceties, but you don’t. You never did. You did not twenty years ago, you don’t now.

My friend, you and I both know there’s a madness in you, an itch to feel how it is when it’s hard & cold, an urge to ride until twilight and start all over again the next day. You don’t care if you are wet, you don’t really care if you don’t have a warm shower. You made yourself believe that you do! I know it because I am you; We spoke a long time ago but I have always been here. Never thought we would speak again, yet here we are.

Today was hard leaving the comfortable cabin in the Måløy. It was raining, and I was constantly debating whether to take a bus to Trondheim and skip this entire part.

The ferry journey to Måløy yesterday was interesting, quiet and contemplative, and I kept thinking about my plans.

But then, today I went to a store I got some new really good (hopefully expedition grade) jackets, gloves, and went back to riding! Now I can say, “What’s rain?”.

And then, best part of today, met Naomi and Espen and we rode together to a campsite tonight.

From Naomi, I learned about sea-grass and oyster restoration and conservation program which was super interesting. Got to see some amazing photography by Espen.

In the end my inner voice calmed down.

Good night!

Åheim, Norway

It feels like a dream at this point; Or a long chain of half-remembered dreams that I haven’t woken up from.

The transition between place to place isn’t so quick that each individual place becomes an episode, but also not slow enough to be real. It’s the exact sweet spot between fleeting and unchanging. I meet people, I see places, I feel the sun on my face, or the rain, and inevitably it all gets mixed like a summer slushy. I suppose that’s why I write, photograph, sit down to slow down time on top of a hill; all to put a pin on the memories before they become a blur.

I would imagine it would be much easier to get lost in this dream if the connection to friends and my life in Hamburg wasn’t there, if the daily planning and preparation wasn’t there. I wouldn’t want that, I think. Being lost in a dream sounds as scary as swimming in a bottomless pool. And I am not sure if I want to be brave enough to be lost in a dream.

Today’s ride was mostly pedal smashing until I got to this island and it started to get sunny. I wasn’t sure where to spend the night, but eventually I found a relatively unknown idyllic village named Flø at the end of the road, and a campsite within it. My initial thought was to make it to Ålesund by tonight, but the edge of the island intrigued me. The closer I got to the village, the more dreamy it got.

Some technical notes, the new rain jacket held up exceptionally well. My fish-curry-in-a-can based diet have been tasty enough to make me think of dinner the whole day. My breakfast is getting more varied, sometimes I have oats in yoghurt, sometimes I eat sandwiches. My lunch system is still all over the place, but also I haven’t had a rainless lunchtime in weeks. My rear brake have been behaving odd lately, I should go to a bike store at some point. The drivetrain is also showing signs of wear, but I don’t think it’s near any real problem. My packing system had its quirks since day one, something to optimise still. I have changed my shaving routine from a lather based shave to a trimmer approach, which saves time and keeps the total weight down. Shedding weight is no more a concern, however, I see some things becoming redundant slowly. My laundry routine is purely based on the availability of sunlight, which is to say, I haven’t washed anything for days. I ran out of soap and shampoo weeks ago, haven’t found a decent travel sized replacement, but I don’t miss either. Sleeping in the tent has become very comfortable, and much more simplified since the beginning. Health has been fine, no serious aches or injuries so far.

All in all, it’s going good!

Good night!

Flø, Norway

I think I am one step closer to understanding why I have not been able to enjoy big towns or cities as much during this trip. It’s not that bigger towns are complicated, harder to get around, or create friction against my own expectations. It’s the departure from the sheer simplicity of being on the road. One could argue there’s significantly more amount of effort involved, setting up camp, dismantling camp, figuring out where to sleep, what to eat. But it’s still inherently simpler and exact, every action is purpose driven to stay moving longer. Exploring cities, on the other hand is fraught with arbitrary choices and city planners whims, and that is deterring me from cities. In another more traditional trip, I don’t think I would have felt this contrast, but this time around it’s almost unavoidable.

So anyway, I reached Ålesund yesterday. While in the ferry, I met a motorcyclist who tried to convince me to get a motorbike. I must say, I am very nearly convinced. We also spoke about some our favourite Youtube channels.

My Airbnb host, Kjell, has a lot of knowledge on ships. Eventually I found out he’s a ship design engineer. And other than photography his hobby is going around long distances on Kayak and camping on the shoresor fjords, which I found fascinating. We spent the evening boat-spotting.

I should have checked the ferry timings beforehand. There was one at 1110 that I missed while eating a nice breakfast spread at a cafe. The next one is at 1425; this time waiting could have been spent riding. Lessons learned.

I went to Intersport, but they didn’t have a bike mechanic to help me with my brakes. I guess I’ll try again in Trondheim. As far as I can judge, it’s probably fine.

Kjell, my Airbnb host and I had a great time talking about kayaks, ships and Norwegian history. I have never met a ship design engineer before.

I miss my tiny retro video game console, shouldn’t have sent it back home. I could have been finishing so many video-games. I inevitably fall back to scrolling on my phone, but also I did not anticipate there would be this many ferries on the route. I tried opening up my e-reader, only to realise I completely forgot what book I was reading. I think it was Soul of a new machine by Tracy Kidder.

Sitting at the ferry station, I am itching to be on open road again. And it’s raining. I think I will ride till late tonight.

Met Michael at the ferry terminal, we rode together until Midsund. I think the landscape is changing.

Good Night!

Midsund, Norway

Standing at Charles de Gaulle airport, Doug wondered “Am I really going to ride this bike to Moscow?”. That’s what he told me while telling the story of how he got his Brooks bike saddle. I also have a Brooks saddle, so I was keen to hear his saddle’s story, my saddle story isn’t interesting. Turns out he wanted to buy a Brooks saddle second hand, and when he ended up reaching the seller, he noticed a bike there with a label on it, “Paris to Moscow”; he bought that bike as well from the same seller, and went on a trip from Paris to Moscow in 2018. He met helpful soldiers joking about how scary Russsia would be at the shores of Lake Peipus. He had cold days, hot days. He also told me how to be tactful about cold situations. We had an excellent chat! He talked about the few businesses he started right at the start of the internet, met Steve Jobs (and offered to write his biography), taught e-commerce in Australia etc. Fascinating person Doug!

Rode with Michael most of the day until we parted ways. He wanted to reach Kristiansund tonight, and I wanted to take this coastal route. I meet a lot of people for a very short time and I find that almost no one has the amount of time I have; so people have plans to reach ferries, buses etc. and skip parts of the Eurovelo 1 route. This also makes me very aware of this privilege that I have of being able to be out and about for months. I almost forgot that I had this time until Michael told me that he only has two weeks to reach Tromsø somehow.

Part of me is always aware of how long this route is, and I do the time vs. distance math almost everyday. But today, Doug’s words stuck with me. Am I really going to ride this bike to Moscow?. He ended up reaching Moscow. Maybe I’ll end up in Nordkapp too.

Good night!

Tornes, Norway

Even today at the campsite I didn’t need to cook. I met Carina and Lotta from Sweden who shared a fish with me. And I even didn’t have to sit on the ground, someone staying at a nearby cabin offered me a chair to sit on. It was lovely eating dinner with them. We talked about Mongolian music, Sami music, native American music among other things. Our conversations were very enriching for me. I learned about Jojk, a sort of chanting, performed by the Sami people that doesn’t necessarily contain meaning, but a reflection of a place or people.

We listened to a few. I think I have a new musical genre to discover. Carina and Lotta even offered to do my dishes for me. I must admit I felt incredibly shy letting them do my dishes.

Today’s ride was long, and uneventful, except I crossed a very crowded Atlantic Ocean Road; all the supermarkets were closed, but I did manage to eat a chicken kebab platter at a gas station. My ration bag is very full and remaining full; I haven’t had to cook dinner a few days now. On a technical note, I need to get better at feeding myself the right amount on the road; I suppose that’s one piece of the riding longer puzzle. If I can feed myself right, I can see myself easily riding for few more hours in a day.

There’s nothing quite the experience of riding a bike on open roads. But it’s becoming clear it’s not about the view, or the natural beauty, or the cute looking villages. Not quite sure what it is yet...

Good night!

Ekkilsøya, Norway

Trondheim is a town that has the right amount of sadness. It’s not full of unnecessarily happy neighbourhoods. It’s a town that seems like it’s lived in. My Airbnb hostess, Wenche and I had great conversations about the church, Christianity, Norway and solo travel.

I had biked to Kristiansund yesterday. Right before Kristiansund, there’s a part where bikes aren’t allowed in a tunnel. So every biker has to take a bus. At that bus stop, I met Chris from Switzerland, we joked that drivers in this bus route must be frustrated with all the cyclists they have to accommodate; But our bus driver turned out to he super friendly. I took the next ferry out of Kristiansund to Trondheim. There is a bike route that goes to Trondheim, but I wanted to be done with this leg of the journey.

One thing about Norway; I haven’t seen any Doner shops. There are a lot of kebab shops, but no Doner kebab, which is practically a staple on Germany. And all french fries come drizzled with some sort of spice that tastes like store bought taste enhancer. I can’t recommend the kebab scene in Norway. But, the kebab shops have the unique ability to make one comfortably sit and eat alone; that’s why I go there when I am not eating sitting next to a gas station or a grocery store. Almost all of the them have that pick-up-food-after-work charm, that I enjoy; true establishments supporting the working-class.

On another random note, Police sirens in Norway are significantly higher pitch and Doppler effect makes it worse. I think German police sirens are slightly easier on the ears.

I went to a weaponry museum today and spotted a toy gun my grandfather gifted me; I instantly recognised it from the muzzle. Turns out, it was a toy Thompson Submachine gun.

While on my walk, I also saw a two scooters parked outside of a hotel with Italian license plate. I must say, I did not expect scooter touring, specially on Norwegian terrain.

Good Night!

Trondheim, Norway

Waiting for my bike to get fixed. It’s really surprising that my chain has worn out this much already, so the person at the bike store recommended replacing the chain and maybe the cassette. Unfortunately they didn’t have any replacement for my existing 48-teeth cog, so I might have to contend with a 43-teeth cog. I am hoping I will still be able to climb up the hills.

After I deposited my bike in the store for repairs, I wanted to check out the maritime museum in Trondheim. It’s quite small, but I had a few hours to kill. While walking there, I heard someone calling my name; it was Kristof. He and his girlfriend are spending a few days in Trondheim before Kristof starts again.

During our a little chat, we were talking about how cities differ from the countryside, and I realised how addictive this life on the road is; at least the sheer simplicity of it; the most complex decisions to take in a day are what to eat and where to sleep. And even those are not a particularly complicated decisions, given there are very few options to begin with. Eating at the grocery store, gas station or in front of my tent. Since I can’t carry much, my meals are simple, easy to prepare. And for sleeping, it’s usually the next camp-ground, or a grassy flat surface. Water is usually close by, and charging my battery bank doesn’t take too long. Sometimes I am probably mistaken as a hobo with a nice jacket, but that rarely a bother, quite the opposite actually. This lifestyle is only sustainable at this pace because there is some infrastructure around wherever I am. I wonder how it would feel like in a more expeditionary setting. Probably not as addictive, but I am willing to find out.

Ran out of shampoo, haven’t bought more. Haven’t used my own detergent for a while, so that also had to go. Haven’t use deodorant of any kind since forever, so that can went into trash. Gave up my camping mat for a lighter smaller one. All in all this is all incredibly liberating, to shed things that I am discovering don’t need.

As for my plans today, I was hoping the bike check would result in everything is in fine condition and I would be able to leave Trondheim before lunch. Even though part of me thinks it probably would have been good enough for the rest of the trip, chain wear is something I am not inclined to take lightly; I suppose major part of the wear is all the muck and mud that got stuck to the drivetrain. Should have cleaned better! I haven’t cleaned anything since Fjerritslev.

16:01:

The bike drive train has been cleaned and replaced. Now I’m on the ferry to Vanvikan. It’s generally difficult to give up comforts of a real bed, or a nice bathroom, but I am also itching to be on the road again.

I am meeting so many people I am forgetting their names at this point. Rens, Helgi, David. I met everyone and more at last night’s campsite. It’s a good confirmation to Kristof and my theory that it would get crowded after Trondheim.

After Helgi gave me a pack of chicken soup today morning Rens and I teamed up and rode together today. Crossed a few towns until he told me about Gapahuk; essentially shelters. Sometimes they have a fireplace or benches. Usually designed for resting, but sometimes they have amenities for spending the night as well. The one we found today is next to a fjord. We decided to put up our tents there.

Tomorrow I’m buying a new helmet because I left mine at the ferry.

Good Night!

I am travelling through places that I suppose I would otherwise only see from a train or a bus and wonder how it would like to be out there.

Rens has a bias towards wild camping, so today we are wild camping too, near another gapahuk. But I am not sure the spots we are end up at is really wild-camping worthy. They have all the inconveniences of a wild camp without much of the upsides. Maybe it has to grow on me still. But I did get a little bit nostalgic, cooking and cleaning with a tiny bit or water; I even managed to shower with only half a litre of water, I’m glad it didn’t take long to master this new technique.

All in all, a good day!

Today I had a group of bike tourers overtake me today, on an uphill, as if these hills weren’t enough to make me feel inadequate. Later I met all of them at the ferry, a family of three and a solo biker. How is everyone so fast & strong, I wonder.

Rens left early today, he wanted to avoid the heat. I don’t follow that logic though, the only way to avoid the midday Sun is to entirely avoid midday, ergo starting the ride later in the evening, or finishing before midday.

Right after I started I met Eva and Jess. Two lovely girls going home south to Oslo from Nordkapp; they gave me really nice tips for Lofoten, wild camping shelters and a bunch more things. I can’t wait to reach there now.

It’s been rather tough today with the heat, enough to leave salt stains on my shirt. I ran out of water at some point, but fortunately found lake on top a hill, where I refilled. What I really wanted to do today was to ride through the low Sun, but I ended up waiting at the ferry for too long. I have been wild camping last two days, so today I thought might as well just go right to a campsite. Eva and Jess inspired me to do more wild camping, but today it would be nice to shower and clean up a little, specially all the sweaty salt stains from my clothes.

After I reached the campsite I realised that the reason I ran out of water today is because not all bottles can hold carbonated beverage, at least that’s my understanding now. I usually carry two bottles in my panniers, and I had bought two bottles of sparkling water which I had transferred to my bottles. I didn’t really realise they were carbonated when I bought them, but I didn’t think too much of it anyway. So most of that water spilled into my clothes and now I have quite a few wet clothes drying on my bike.

Apart from all that, pretty good ride today!

Good Night!

Hofles, Norway

I realised during my ride today that I have missed taking my time a little bit; probably due to my fixation with faux athleticism. I have been meeting so many people focused to going very long distances, that I found myself wanting to do the same until I missed on talking with the ice-cream seller selling ice cream in a truck. I heard the music from the truck on top of a hill, at first it was eerie because I couldn’t see the truck. There were only two houses there and the ice cream truck was going around selling to those two houses. I was curious to talk to an ice-cream seller who drove their truck all the way just to sell to these two houses on top of a hill. I was already going quite fast, so I didn’t feel like stopping. Later on, a little regret started to surface; I could have bought an ice cream and have a chat with the seller.

Today was hot and everything was closed. So my regular ritual of drinking any kind of cold beverage that’s available didn’t pan out. Fortunately, I managed to reach a campsite before my water ran out. Met Karin on the way, and it has been a delight riding and conversing with her.

Also met Tim, who has been on the road for months now, and like many others who are going south, he mentioned that the part from Tromsø to Nordkapp isn’t particularly interesting, which gives me a reason to take very long and explore Lofoten that I miss Norkapp entirely. Not sure if I want to do that yet. Karin and I were talking about the point in reaching an arbitrary destination, and she mentioned that the people who are walking to Santiago de Compostela, are also walking towards an arbitrary destination, but there’s a point to the pilgrimage itself. If I choose to end up somewhere different than Nordkapp, it’s also completely fine, the story wouldn’t change that much, except people might not know the name of the place I end up at. But on the other hand, I didn’t even know about Nordkapp until very recently. It had crossed my mind to call this trip a pilgrimage before, but I hadn’t taken the time to make up my mind on why I am doing this trip, which could have been helpful answering questions about my priorities during.

Jess and Eva mentioned the landscape would slowly change further North, but I didn’t expect to see three notably high hills around a corner today. I guess I am reaching the Northern part of the North.

Good Night!

Holm, Norway

Today was an uneventful day, with a little bit of riding and a nice early dinner, but the campsite I am staying at made the day quite interesting.

It’s run by two elderly women, one of them doesn’t speak English, Anna and the another lady who has a quirky personality, to say the least. When showing me where I can pitch my tent, she mentioned that they have a museum I should definitely take a look at. The campsite is very lovingly decorated, with little motifs everywhere; from fairy tales to mythical characters. But then I went to the museum. It’s not really a museum, it’s more of a collection of sorts. Collection of things, trinkets, toys, household items over the years, by Anna Jensen, who I assume is the proprietor of the establishment. And the entire collection was charming, at first.

While walking around there, I found a kids room in the attic, while climbing up the ladder I froze for a moment, wondering what is on the kid’s bed. It was a big stuffed life-sized Santa Claus like figure.

The museum is situated inside an old barn, and it has an old barn smell to it. I couldn’t make out any story from the items, but all of it is from the last century, if not older; I suppose one could call it a museum, a rather overwhelming one. It reminded me of the campsite room in Stenbjerg, but way crazier! When the volume of the collection finally wiped away the charm, I was feeling a little uncomfortable. It seemed as if there is a lot of items hoarded over a lifetime. The paintings on the ceiling said enough about the growth of the collection. And the stuffed Santa on a kid’s bed is a little bit much. Part of me wants to speak to Anna about her museum, but I probably won’t. I am already in bed!

On another note, I am realising I am talking to a lot of people for a long time but I barely ask their names. Today I met this couple who told me about Seven Sisters Peaks, Torghatten and Vega island. They also told me how to experience all three, and which route to take. Maybe I’ll do that tomorrow. Today I stopped right at the place where the exciting new things and my current route diverge.

Good Night!

Brønnøysund, Norway.

I had a rather jovial exchange today at the second ferry, out of three I took today. A ferry employee at Forvik wanted my bike, said he doesn’t see many Surly models in Norway, and offered me one in exchange. His son is a professional racer in a French team, so he can’t give his son’s good bike to me, but his old one is available.

Today I met a motorcyclist and another local tourist who both said the same thing the couple said yesterday. That I have to go to Herøy and Dønna, and look at the Seven Sisters peaks from there. This would be a detour, but since three parties insisted at this point, I thought I might as well.

I did find a campsite at the very East of Herøy islands, but I somewhat pushed myself to do wild camping tonight. The temptations of the creature comforts at a commercial campsite are too hard to ignore. And if I didn’t make a point to do wild camping, I wouldn’t do it. So I decided to be at a place with a good view, not a hut, not under a bridge, but a nice spot that doesn’t have much around.

Good Night!

Herøy, Norway

1147

Last night after going to bed somewhere at Herøy, I realised I forgot to sit & look at the view of the Seven Sisters; so I unzipped my tent, put on Shine on you crazy diamond by Pink Floyd on my phone and watched the moon rise.

Dønna wasn’t as magical as Herøy was, or maybe I missed the exciting parts on the other side of the island. When I reached the ferry at Bjorn, turned out one ferry was cancelled; while waiting for the next one, I met a lady from Sweden, after talking to her I now really want to go to the European Divide Trail.

1226

Reached Sandessjøen. I haven’t decided if I want to ride out of here on my bike or take a ferry tomorrow early morning to Bodø. Almost everyone I have met is telling me Lofoten is a pretty amazing place, and I am getting more and more excited, and I would like to use the good weather while it lasts.

1233

Got Kebab, no Doner here! And expensive too!

1246

Time to look for an inn!

0613 Got on the ferry to Bodø from Sandnessjøen; the conductor doesn’t speak English. But I got my ticket and sat myself on a seat with a table.

0724 This is the second family sitting next to me eating at the table. Most of them got their food from outside; good idea, ferry food is expensive, nothing compared to airport food though.

0814 Crossed the Artic circle. Saw a tiny landmark on an island on the left.

1000 Dozed off at some point.

1023 Started watching Dimension 20 on Dropput.tv.

1045 Interestingly bare hilly islands where no one lives. The windows of the ferry are so dusty, the phone autofocus doesn’t work.

1108 All these tiny islands with big hills, I want to hike on them.

1122 I wonder when the real adventure will start. It doesn’t feel like it has started yet.

1149 Reached Bodø.

1228 Managed to find food; Kebab.

1319 Sitting at a park, itching to be on the bike. But I already booked my Airbnb here and made a point to take it easy at the end of each leg. It’s odd how addictive being on open road is! I suppose I could have spent a few more days in Helgeland; A Father, travelling with his two kids, tried to convince me to go back to Dønna and bike around there, even showed me photos of sunset etc. He told me he doesn’t understand why everyone goes to Lofoten, when there are perfectly great places here in Helgeland. I suppose I’ll find out soon.

Turns out the infamous mission involving Gary Powers and a U-2 spy plane in 1960 was supposed to end in Bodø, where I am now. His U-2 spy plane was shot down in the Ural region by a Soviet surface-to-air missile, after he started his mission from Peshawar, Pakistan. It was probably a high point during the Cold War, but what interests me the most is the length of the route.

The U-2 is probably my favourite airplane, not because of its contribution to military intelligence, but the length of the missions it was involved in. In her book, H is for Hawk, Helen Macdonald talks about a U-2 pilot, and their very long flights. The book about grief and patience, but that passage on the U-2 pilot and the strings the author pulls from there into training a pet Hawk stuck with me. How does one keep a steady mind and fly an aircraft for hours, in near silence, or train a restless hawk for that matter.

I visited a flight museum at Bodø, where they have quite a few hollowed out airplanes hanging from the ceiling & on the ground in two big halls. In the military wing it’s full of radar equipments, radars, bombs, missiles, ejection seats, guns, bullets. I am not particularly interested in or fond of military, but looking at these airplanes up close, the progress in engineering caught my eye. The older rivets gave way to newer screws. The shapes of bent metal sheets got more and more complicated as aviation became more advanced. And the rate of fire for guns grew exponentially. My Airbnb host in Ålesund, Kjell told me that ships are supposed to have green and red lights on starboard and port sides respectively. I spotted them on an F-16 near the engine inlet.

Bodø, Norway

Reached Lofoten islands earlier today; the sheer number of people visiting here took a toll on me. It’s clear the infrastructure and roads here aren’t really built to handle crowds of this size. Way too many cars, camper vans, tents and vans in campsites. I almost broke camping rules today; in Lofoten islands, in most if not all of the coastal area wild camping is prohibited. I thought of camping in the wild anyway, I saw a few bike packers on the way camping in the wild. But eventually settled for a campsite, a rather expensive one. The problems of being in a touristic hotspot on a weekend. I usually try to align weekends with a big town or a city, so that I can avoid loud camper van crowd, and get myself a nice coffee or go to a museum, but this time I didn’t. Primarily because the population & towns have been thinning out in the north here, so I incorrectly assumed it won’t be very crowded in Lofoten. I was wrong. The last time I was in such a crowded campsite was in Hirtshals.

Interestingly touristy crowds makes me very aware of the fact that I am travelling alone, in contrast to being by myself in the middle of nowhere. Also crowded areas somehow doesn’t encourage natural conversations that I have been having very frequently in comparatively emptier areas.

As for Lofoten as a place, it’s quite grand. Huge grassy valleys, and sparse population makes this area quite exciting to ride a bike through. But what’s not clear to me is how Lofoten got it’s popularity, but not islands like Herøy or Dønna, or other parts of Northern Norway where I imagine the landscape is quite similar; reminded me of the what the man told me in Sandsessjøen.

Good Night!

Flakstad, Norway

Today when I went into a tunnel, I didn’t realise it going under the sea; as in I had to go downhill and then uphill again. I decked my bike up with lights and went in, but tunnel was quite spacious and my lights didn’t do much. The tunnel lights were randomly turning off as well, I suspect those are motion enabled lights that don’t register bikes. At some point I wasn’t sure how fast I was going or if there was a curve I needed to take care of.

The ride was rather annoying, way too many cars and vans on the road. And I don’t have much choice but to take the high traffic road. But fortunately, part of the ride was through less busy roads and that made the ride very enjoyable. I wanted to push into the night to have some low traffic, maybe tomorrow. Having said that, today’s fog made the entire landscape somewhat surreal to ride through.

Valhall, Norway

Today is the first time in about eight years where I had a full conversation entirely through Google Translate. I met an Italian lady who barely speaks English, and we spoke quite literally by talking into our phones. She is also going to Nordkapp!

Today’s ride included a planning mistake. I wanted to go through a scenic less busy route but the software I used to create the route conveniently removed that scenic part. After riding for hours I decided to check where the quieter road was, only to realise that it never was part of the final route and I had already crossed almost the entirety of the route. The intense traffic of afternoon made me go another few kilometres around another island specifically on rural roads for a little bit of quietness. Met two local lovely elderly ladies today on the way, they waved at me, asked me questions. They said that Lofoten is the worst place to be in Norway during summer, and I somewhat agree with them. It’s a grand place that’s quite overrun.

Børøya, Norway

An employee at yesterday’s campsite and a cyclist today insisted that Andøya is unlike anything I have ever seen. They were not wrong. It’s a very interesting landscape.

Lot of sheep frolicking around. Hopefully I’ll be able to sleep with all the bell noise.

Good night!

Nøss, Norway

Short day today. I wanted to cross over to Senja with the ferry but then thought of taking it easy. The ferry goes only three times a day from Andenes to Gryllefjord, and by the time I would reach Senja and then finding a spot to pitch my tent, it would be a little bit too late for my energy levels today. But the ride through Andøya has been amazing!

The more I go through this landscape, the more I think of Hideo Kojima’s Death Stranding. I don’t know what inspired him, but I do see why he chose such a landscapes for his work. The ruggedness & desolation beckons and the wind makes the place come alive.

Andenes, Norway

Right after the ferry to Gryllefjord today, when I started riding, my shifter stopped working. Fortunately, I managed to fix it by fiddling with the cable. I was a little bit worried that I would have to ride with a single speed until Tromsø. I will need to get this checked at Tromsø. Gryllefjord, on the other hand, is a quaint little town, that mainly subsists on tourism and fish.

Today I drank unfiltered water from a lake on top of a hill, and had an excellent and long tunnel ride. Senja island is absolutely beautiful!

Came to a commercial campsite today. I am slowly starting to not like them. I never really got the their point in general, but I mostly did appreciate their existence on this trip, it’s very convenient. Also, I have been to some excellent campsites, but most of them are always so very full, that things that I want to do at a campsite, like use a equipped kitchen, or take a warm shower, I have to queue for. That by itself isn’t necessarily a problem, but I am failing to see the point in paying just for slow conveniences.

Seems like it’s going to rain tonight.

Good Night!

Skaland, Norway

The rain started earlier than was forecasted; I ended up stopping & wild camping, right before Tromsø. Doug told me how to handle cold and rain in a camping situation, and so I did. Managed to put up the tent without getting the inside wet; before getting cooled off, dried up and had a meal. I am realising it’s a skill to manage body heat when outdoors; something I rarely think about when I am in Hamburg.

Today has been another excellent ride through the last bit of Senja, with some more exciting and cold tunnels. Exciting enough that I stopped in one and listened to the silence for a little bit.

Kvaløya, Norway

Tromsø doesn’t feel the same it did 6 years ago. It feels bigger and busier. Or maybe it’s just me. I also didn’t visit any museums this time around, or any place else. I mostly found myself planning the last bit until Nordkapp; and doing heaps of laundry. I stayed in a hotel; Airbnbs are too cosy; makes me miss my home a lot! Hotels are impersonal and boring enough to make me want to leave as soon as possible.

My current plan is to come back to Tromsø and take a flight back home. Seems to me it’s the cheapest and easiest way to make it back to Hamburg. My initial plan of taking multiple trains doesn’t seem too exciting with the planning overhead at the moment. On that note, planning anything travel related is very off putting now. All I want to think of is being on the road. It’s a very liberating state of being. But it also makes me wonder if my privileges are flexing so obtusely that pretending to be almost homeless is “fun”.

For this last bit, I want to go a little bit faster; I’ll leave some things at the hotel, and travel a little bit lighter. Before I left I thought this last bit would take a little extra bit of motivation; and I was right. However, I am looking forward to riding over a rugged landscape. People told me this part is not very interesting, but now looking at the changing landscape; I think this is exactly what I was looking for, with all the wind and rain that’s waiting for me.

Tromsø, Norway

I met Manuel today. He is probably the only person I have met on this trip so far, who has his priorities straight. When I met him he was carrying steaks, vegetables, cheese and all the good kind of food! He is cooking all of that while being on the road with his bike. I can learn a thing or two from Manuel! He even invited me to a barbecue in Tromsø, but I had my eyes on the road ahead.

Today, after a very slow and under-motivated start, it felt like I could ride on forever. I had two 7-Eleven Samosas in the morning. It was not too hot, not too cold. It was somewhat windy, but I got used to it at this point. The landscape is getting more rugged, which I absolutely love!

But then, I saw a spot and thought I’ll regret not camping there! It is a little rocky to put pegs in, but nothing a little bit of rope can’t solve.

Svensby, Norway

I was hoping to find a spot like last night today to camp out, but I couldn’t find any, so eventually ended up at a commercial campsite. The weather has been cloudy as well since the morning rain. Today’s ride was uneventful; I am finding myself trying to cover more distance.

What I am noticing is that a lot of signposts with town names have two or three names. I suspect the other names are native Sami names.

Oksfjordhamn, Norway

I am a little disappointed at myself today. I thought I had mastered the art of managing wind & rain, but I haven’t. By the end of today, I was cold and tired; I made my way to a campsite, and promptly used the shower and the laundry dryer. In a trip like this, one is practically outside and exposed almost all the time; hence changes in weather affects things more than I am used to. Among other weather related issues, rain has been the most difficult to manage. Having rain good equipment definitely helps, but I suppose I lack the balancing skill between being warm and being dry; being warm doesn’t necessarily equate to being dry when constant physical exertion is involved. And then there’s the cost of having wet kit, and how much wetness can I afford in my kit. Ultra endurance racers are probably very good at managing this, something I’ll learn hopefully.

Today’s ride was very windy and foggy at times. It’s notable how cold it is at even a few hundred meters of elevation this far up North. Other than that, it was a short but fun ride today!

Alteidet, Norway

The road is getting more and more spicy. Sometimes the bike route goes through broken roads that are unmaintained, and overgrown. Those roads are also the most intriguing to ride through, because they are fantastically empty and abandoned. I also had to side-step a pretty sizeable landslide today, which was dangerously exciting. Initially I wanted to make it to Alta, but then decided to stop and camp out right before town, so that I get more time in Alta tomorrow for doing a few things. After Alta, supermarkets and campsites get more scarce, so a soft reset would be helpful; stock up on food and plan out a little bit.

The camp spot I picked today was teeming with flies, but I also learned spraying the tent with mosquito spray keeps them away.

Alta, Norway

Very short day today. In the morning the heat got to me. I was already tired before I left my camp spot. Initially I thought I would spend some time in Alta, plan the next few days, restock and then continue. But then, as the day went by, I felt like going to a campsite and resting, specially since the batteries on my electronics were quite low, and my energy levels as well.

So I stocked up on food for next few days, and came to a campsite.

Alta, Norway

Today I crossed the Finnmark plateau. It was a dreamy bit of landscape, with long straight stretches of almost nothing. Probably my favourite ride to date in this trip.

I have stopped using the water filter. The refreshingly cold mountain spring water is terribly good. Today was quite hot, so I ended up drinking a lot of water. At some point I found a grocery store and I thought I had bought a nice beverage, but turns out, I bought a concentrate to make a drink out of. That discovery was very disappointing when I tasted the very strong sweetness.

Kvalsund, Norway

The tunnel’s entrance was staring at me. I thought I wouldn’t even make it to the tunnel tonight; but the campsite at Repvåg I was relying on, has been converted into a hotel, so they didn’t have a tent spot. Hence, I thought I would camp out slightly further ahead, and tomorrow early in the morning I would tackle the long tunnel. Everyone I met going south, talks about how difficult the tunnel is. It’s 7 kilometres long, goes under the sea upto 250 metres. It made sense to camp out and trying it tomorrow, but somehow I ended up at its entrance. For a moment, I thought of being prudent and camp near the entrance; I had already covered 100 kilometres today, and was quite tired already. I was standing at its edge and could feel the cold air being ventilated. There was a sign “Fog in tunnel”, which was also quite curious. There was no good reason for me to go through the tunnel tonight.

After I entered the tunnel, the first thing I felt was speed. It was 9% decline. And I felt cold; I realised I forgot to zip up my jacket. Quickly I reached the bottom, and saw ice on the road. At some point the rock walls were replaced by pre-fabricated rings, which told me I was probably under the fjord. The car noise was loud, very loud. The ventilation fans sounded like jet engines. Eventually, after shedding quite a bit of sweat, I came out the other side.

When I came out of the tunnel, I decided it would be a shame not to camp here!

Honnigsvåg, Norway

Today initially my plan was to take a day at Honnigsvåg before biking to Nordkapp; but after eating an excellent cinnamon bun at a grocery store at Storbukt, I decided to go for it.

I reached Nordkapp mid afternoon; mildly annoyed by inconsiderate tourist car traffic. Met Balazs, Ruben, his partner, Tim, James and many other cyclists. I had thought of going back late in evening during the golden sun and taking the boat to Tromsø early in the morning tomorrow, but eventually I ended up staying here in Nordkapp with a few others, the landscape is quite grand; Who knows if I’ll ever come back here.

I suppose it is true that the journey is more important than the destination; Nordkapp itself is quite unremarkable even though the landscape is quite surreal. I am quite indifferent about the place. The feeling of being on the road on the other hand, is blissful.

Good Night!

Nordkapp, Norway

As I lay on a bench at the harbour trying to sleep off the night I realised I really miss being on the road and sleeping out in a tent; nothing is ever as simple. I can see why some people don’t tend to stop, and go on for really long tours. It’s addictive and it’s liberating. Even I was playing with the idea of riding my bike to Alta, if not Tromsø.

The ship to Tromsø is early in the morning tomorrow, so I decided to sleep right here on a bench. I came here earlier today, visited a museum, ate, did some biking around. Eventually I laid out my camping mattress, put on some leg warmers, and made myself cosy on the bench. It won’t be the perfect sleep but it’s better than nothing.

Good Night!

Honnigsvåg, Norway

Turns out the ferry to Tromsø is a cruise ship, MS Havila Castor; it’s basically a massive hotel with lobby and everything, the cabins are essentially like hotel rooms. It’s not as big & grand as other more mainstream cruise operators but the shower was refreshing after three days, so is a nice bed. Last night’s bench-sleep wasn’t particularly high quality, but better than expected.

As I see Norway passing by from the deck, I feel an invariable tug to get on my bike and ride open roads; I keep thinking maybe I haven’t looked at the places I have been through, long enough; the hamlets, the tiny boat houses, endless curvy roads and jagged mountains. Maybe I could do some more island hopping, maybe some more pointless detours. I don’t know if I stopped and talked to people enough. Did I miss a good twilight or two?

Good thing I have not accentuated the entirety of this trip with music or any sort of audio; except the last climb to Nordkapp and at a handful of other places. Those bits of music, I think, will be associated with those places for me. I wonder if I will remember the other sounds, the sound of wind, the sound of the wheel on tarmac, the sound in the tunnels.

I visited the upper decks to look around the landscape, but I was getting too sad looking at the Finnmark landscape, rugged and green, so I came back to my tiny dark cabin and went to sleep.

Aboard MS Havila Castor, Norwegian waters

After I flew from Tromsø to Hamburg, I went straight to my apartment. Within 24 hours I had packed my bike, my bags and went from biking everywhere to taking a taxi. For a moment I thought of riding the last bit from Hamburg airport on my bike, but reassembling my bike right outside of Hamburg airport wasn’t a very appealing idea; I would also have to leave a big bike box outside, which would likely be frowned upon, unlike in Norway. It was still early afternoon, and the ride with a jovial taxi driver to my apartment was quick & easy. I didn’t have to figure out a route, I noticed. But what I did notice was the stress of the minutiae that awaits me.

I looked out of my bedroom window; I love the tree right outside. In summer it’s full of leaves and when the wind blows, it rustles. I remembered that I love to keep my window open at night during summer to hear it. First thing I did was air my camping equipment; they were still a little damp, smelly and full of dead bugs; the last time I camped was at Nordkapp. Odd that I didn’t notice all the dirt until then.

When I went to the nearest big-grocery to pick up some groceries, I noticed that I don’t have to limit myself to food-stuff that I think will fit in my bags. I can pretty much buy anything I want. Neither do I have to worry about keeping the food from spoiling. I bought stuff for next breakfast & dinner.

When I woke up the next morning, I wondered for a brief moment which hotel I was at; the room was bigger than the average hotel rooms I have stayed in Tromsø, and it had a bookshelf too! It took me a few a fumbles to make coffee, with the grinder and filter papers. Once I made coffee, it was time for breakfast. I realised I bought crackers that I was eating in Norway for breakfast. I don’t think I remember what I used to eat for breakfast before I left for the bike trip; Muesli maybe.

The reward for this trip is obviously the peace, solitude & sheer humanity of people that I have come across. But that’s not why I did it. I suppose I wilfully ignored why I was doing it. During the trip quite a few people asked me why this route, why Nordkapp, how did the trip came to be. And I never really had a good answer. The simplest answer I could muster was that one of my best friends inspired me with his own trip down Southern Europe. But if I am being completely honest with myself, I also had something to prove to myself. As much as I reiterate that it was merely a trip through Norway, now I am fairly certain I had a lot to prove, I just never talked about it. How hardcore I can be, how much wet & cold I could handle, how streamlined I can be with my camping, how much cycling I can endure; it was about all these and more. And I fell very short of my own imaginary expectations, in retrospect I didn’t go hard enough. So the first thing I did when I finally managed to sit on my couch was to look for another route that I can ride next, maybe a little bit harsher, harder and lonelier, maybe the Swedish wilderness or windy Icelandic roads.

I have become the individual I promised myself I would never become, an endurance junkie, a performance fetishist. I suppose when I started I didn’t want to subscribe to these values, but it’s really difficult not to play the game when one sees the game. It can essentially be an elaborate balancing act between food, sleep and distance. And it’s very appealing!

I think the minimum length of a pilgrimage should be long enough so that one starts to forget bits of their lives before. Travelling very long distances is particularly addictive primarily because of the simplistic video-gamey routines of the day. On the best days, there were no ferry, nothing to figure out, just a road, some place to buy food, some place to sleep & staying dry; so very few things to decide, so few things to worry about. The most “stressful” part of the day was figuring out where which food was in a grocery store. I can see why people never stop. Being on the road, or what hikers call trail life is a beautiful thing, it probably connects one to a long-gone migratory nature of humanity; #migrationcore.

I can’t help but think when I am doing it by choice, for fun, I am fetishising someone’s lack of privileges. Cooking and sleeping on the road for fun while I have a choice of a traditionally comfortable life and it’s moral implication related to the less fortunate; that’s a discussion I would like to have with myself on my next long trip.

For now, it’s time to deal with the our incessantly needy modern lives with apps, emails & organically grown avocados.