To Oslo and along the South Coast
*Uploaded 3 Dec 2009*
The best thing about travelling across Europe by bicycle is seeing all of the gradual changes in the landscape – the flatness by the North Sea, with all the dykes and windmills, transforming into the gentle rolling hills past Hamburg, and gradually steepening as you get further into Sweden, with lakes springing up everywhere, and changing again to a more obviously glacial landscape as you draw near the border with Norway, with the fjordal type lakes hemmed in by steep forested hills.
Picture postcard first day in Norway Alex cycling
We arrived in Norway shortly after midday, then headed north along the lakes through Fossby and then to Ørje, where we admired the lock system and the pretty lake, and then the cost of Norwegian groceries. Cycling onwards the scenery became more interesting, and the day warmer. We ended it all by finding some moose prints to camp near, in the hope of being trampled by a moose in the night.
Route planning and the grocery bill
We were not trampled by a moose in the night.
The lakes being in our favour, we picked a quiet route on dirt roads that took us directly towards Oslo. On the way we passed a few swampy lakes that looked vaguely promising for mooses, but resulted in nothing.
Oslo-bound!
Plastic-wrapped silage
Passing through farmland
As we reached Fetsund, the level of traffic started to increase, and it’s around then that Alex’s cleat failed – the plate in his shoe with the clipping mechanism in it pulled out entirely, thanks to old and cracking shoes. The second bike cleat failed within the next hour – too much pressure on it after the demise of the first no doubt. As we were only a few hours from Oslo, Alex kept cycling with the dead shoes; they seemed to work ok. They did, however, have the disadvantage that the holes created by the missing cleat section could catch on the pedals, and make the shoe not want to come off again. This was discovered when Alex tried to stop suddenly and ended up in a pile on the ground with the bike on top of him. At a bus station. Outside a mall. Surrounded by people.
On the outskirts of Oslo, the ratio of lycra-clad cyclists was as high as we’ve seen it since France. Everyone is out on the bike paths, and there weren’t many town bikes to be seen. We think first that it’s like a flatter Vancouver, and secondly that we need to find a bike store. This is easily achieved, as people in Oslo are mad keen cyclists (and everything else involving being outdoors for that matter) and there are bicycle stores on every corner. We go through the city centre, with its colourful inhabitants, and Alex walks out of the first bike store we look at with a new pair of shoes. We both use MTB style bike shoes that we’ve had for… well, mine are about 6 years old now, and his were a similar vintage. They’re comfortable for cycling all day, and they’re ok for walking around in too – the only disadvantage being that irritating crunching sound they make when walking on concrete. But Alex’s new shoes don’t even have that, as the cleat is further recessed into the sole.
We find the apartment of our old Australian friend who is currently living in Oslo, get our bikes stashed, get clean, eat tasty food, and generally spend all evening catching up and admiring the view from his balcony. The next day is spent touristing around town – our first day not on a bike since we left Ireland over a month ago.
It’s the Fram! (As used by Roald Amundsen on his expedition to the South Pole and such things)
The city is flooded with outdoor gear stores, and it would be a dangerous place to be if it weren’t for the strength of the Norwegian Kroner making a simple pair of shoes cost as much as a house in Australia. All the rumors are true, and we cringe as we pay for a small load of groceries that would have cost a quarter the price at an Aldi store in Germany. Going out for a couple of beers on Saturday night, I have a CAD$18 margarita, followed up with a CAD$10 beer. I can see why people don’t come to Norway to go partying.
I could have happily spent a lot longer in Oslo – the sculpture garden was just one of the reasons why
* * *
As we set off from the warm comforts of Oslo, I rue my words the night before:
“Oh no, we’ve had really good weather in Norway, it’s been sunny every day so far.”
It starts to rain a little bit, and then torrentially. After satisfying itself, the rain departs, leaving us to pedal soaking wet through the sunshine. This theme is repeated again the following day, as we’re immediately soaked soon after setting out, only to have it clear up again.
This singing sphere is by the banks of the Dramenselva River, in Drammen, with a partner on the far side. They both resonate according to the vibrations of pedestrians passing across the bridge in the background (which has accelerometer sensors imbedded in it). Created by Louise Bertelsen and Po Shu Wang, as a tribute of sorts to the legendary Norwegian water spirit Nøkken, who lives in the river and lures people to their deaths with his beautiful music.
Aside from the rain, Norway is also demonstrating her lovely steep roads, and our leg muscles protest a little at this unaccustomed work – all of the flat terrain through the Netherlands and Germany has made them lazy.
The district of Telemark (we didn’t see anyone skiing)
Down towards Skiien on a gorgeous sunny morning
While grabbing groceries in Skien, Telemark, a guy on a single-speed swings by to chat to us, warning us of a No Bicycles section on the E18 ahead. We were hoping to dive off onto the North Sea Cycle Route around that point, so hopefully we can find a way through. As we were pushing our bikes away another old guy comes up for a chat, and then half an hour later as we were having some cheese and crackers with our bikes leaned on a deer, another man comes up to chat as well. Since we’ve hit Norway a lot more people seem interested in coming up and talking to us about our trip. (On a side-note, Castello Blue cheese and Spelt Knekkebrot make an excellent and protein-filled cycling snack).
Luckily the No Bikes road could be avoided by jumping onto the bike path alongside it, and then connecting through to the North Sea Cycle Route (sign-posted as the 1 in Norway, in that sign-style so familiar from cycling through Wales and England). The fjord towns with little islands are beautiful, and I’m beginning to understand why boat ownership in Norway is reputedly so high. Since we’ve hit the coast, the fjordal terrain has been making for long days with lots of climbing (and descending), but the views have made it all worthwhile.
5000km, and some laundry hanging to dry on my handlebar
We… weren’t sure how to Maks Gangfart, but we tried
We cycle through Kragerø (another pretty coastal town), following the NSCR, and wait for the ferry over to Stabbestad. The ferry takes us past islands and towns, and we see all sorts of amazing houses in ridiculous places perched on rocky little islands as we travel over, including one with climbing holds attached to the cliff the house rested next to.
We keep following the NSCR for the next few days, and realise that the only bad point about following the coast in Norway is that it’s all fjordal and crinkly. So you’re cycling north and south all day to get around fjords, or you’re relying on ferries. At one point we find we’ve missed the only morning ferries, and realise that there will be no other ferry for about 4 hours. We kick the ferry that’s sitting there innocently, and contemplate driving it across the narrow gap ourselves. Instead the days plans are rerouted and we go inland, picking our way along roads at random – a treacherous task in Norway where a lot of roads are busy with tunnels that won’t allow cyclists to pass. Well, a treacherous task when you’re relying on a 400K scale map of the country which doesn’t exactly provide a lot of detail.
Icecream stop!
Typical south coast views
We regain the NSCR, passing through Grimstad, and then on a magical mystery tour through wetlands on steep dirt tracks – so steep that we’re pushing our bikes occasionally. We arrive in Lillesand, then Birkeland and down to Kristiansand. It’s easy to tell when you’re nearing a large city in Norway, as suddenly there are cyclists all over the trails and roads, out having some fun away from the city. Kristiansand is a nice little city, with statues, fountains, bike lanes, threatening clouds, ice-cream and a church.
Sunset from camp
Boats everwhere in Norway. Well, boats everywhere along the coast in Norway. And thanks to the fjords, there’s a LOT of coast.
* * *
After a bit of a sleep-in, we were making good time til at 11am or so we hit a Belgian headed towards Kristiansand. We tell him we’re cycling to Bergen then catching the train back to Oslo, “You’re missing the best bit!” he exclaims, and proceeds to tell us of the Rallerwegen near Bergen, and after chatting for a while, we end up buying his plastic map set of Norwegian Route 4, incorporating the Rallerwegen on the route from Bergen to Drammen or thereabouts. Our route ahead is modified as we dream of the Rallerwegen – but how to find the time? We’re riding on a schedule now as we have to be in Lithuania on September 1st.
Eep, warming up now – go little solar panel, go
Fjords and cyclist in the sun (And yes we wear helmets, even when it’s hot. I grew up wearing one, as it’s the law in Australia, so I don’t even notice it anymore. It’s saved my bacon a few times too – I must have a knack for landing on my head)
We passed through Vigeland, which has lots of memorable statues (the most obvious one being the 3 naked ladies standing on each others shoulders in the middle of a roundabout). Following the NSCR out of town it was slow going, and got slower as the road got steeper. Oh god, the hills, the hills! Before Lyngdal we were on steep switchbacks to grind our way up, and then fly our way down again. Drivers in passing cars look at us with sympathy.
Hairpin! We had some in Japan, but this is the first for Europe.
It was that night that the rain started, and the next morning we reluctantly packed up the tent as it continued. The roads were the steepest yet, and sometimes gravel – hard going in the wet. Back on the main road again we could move faster as it was flatter, but there was also little to no shoulder, and still a lot of rain.
As drowned rats we limped into Farsund and sought shelter on a stage in a small square next to the Spar supermarket. Groups of people were huddled in marquees either side of us in the rain. Alex disappeared to get an initial pre-grocery-shopping snack, and came back with half a cake. As we started devouring the cake we contemplated where a coffee could be found – and just then a woman from the blue marquee came up and offered us both coffees. We accepted gratefully.
It was my turn to run the grocery gauntlet, and I discovered with disgust (soaking wet and cold to begin with) that they keep all their cold items in a cold-room. I dived in to grab some cheese, and then once more for eggs, cursing them and their clever ideas. I was appalled and frozen. Returning to the horrible weather outside, I found that Alex had been information gathering – apparently there’s an election on, and the Labour side have countered the Liberal coffees we drank with some chewy toffee lollies.
Biding our time under the shelter, hiding from the rain, eating more food, imagining the weather might improve, we chatted to a few different people, and were given roses by a man who wandered round handing them to everyone. Then came the offer for a warm and dry place to stay for the night – we accepted without too much deliberation.
A rose in the rain
It was just a short cycle through beautiful terrain to our warm and dry destination (once you’re thoroughly soaked you can’t really get much wetter, so can appreciate the misty scenery). We took a short-cut and missed a section of the NSCR, but can thoroughly recommend the route we took: a dashed section on our map, it’s an old car route that’s closed to traffic, which hugs the side of the fjord (Framvaren), winding higher and higher with waterfalls running along the inside, and mossy rocks scattered along the outside – hardly enough to stop you from taking the precipitous plunge down to the water below.
Although a warm and dry house-shaped accommodation was welcome that night, in general the wild camping has so far been producing some fantastic spots. Favourites on this section would be the spot in a forest next to a small creek/waterfall, where we could play around building dams and making swimming pools and dish-washing pools, and the lake just outside of Stabbestad, which put on a pink sunset just for us – and had no mosquitoes or ticks. The ticks have become a bit of a persistent fact of life while wild camping – we’ve become adept at spotting them crawling on us and crushing them before they can take hold.
Distance: 754km
Flaginess levels: Low
Public toilets: Available
Wifi availability: Good
Groceries: Expensive
Days of rain: 4/10
Bike friendliness: Not bad, not a lot of cycle lanes or wide shoulders in the countryside though, but plenty of quiet roads to choose from. Thanks to fjordal landscape there would often be only one road though, and if that was large and busy it could get awkward. Some good national cycle routes though. The Scandinavian countries are far from the bicycle friendliness of the Netherlands and Belgium though.
Advantages of cycle touring: Can stay anywhere in the country
Disadvantages of bike touring: No maid service.
