January 01, 2023

The Baltic States

January 01, 2023/ Sarah Lock

A few months ago, if you had asked either of us anything about the Baltic countries of Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania, you would have received a very blank look in response. We wouldn’t even have been able to tell you where they were! Not so now, however, as we can confidently agree that these three small countries have always stood in a key position, on the eastern shore of the Baltic Sea, along the ancient trade routes between western Europe and Russia.

Each country has a different, long, interesting and somewhat bleak history, an impressive cultural heritage and, combined, are home to 7.5 million people, nearly half of whom reside in Lithuania. Spending time travelling through the area has given us a glimpse into the varying influences and control that have shaped these countries right up until 1991 when each were able to declare their independence from the Soviet Union and align strongly with the west through membership of Nato and the EU in 2004.

Foreign control of Estonia and Latvia dates back to the 1200’s and it is easy to see evidence of Scandinavian, German and Russian influence. Lithuania has a slightly different history. A fiercely independent European state, The Grand Duchy of Lithuania was formed in the 1200’s and over the following centuries expanded to include large portions of what is now Belarus, parts of Ukraine, Russia and Moldova. Further strengthened by a dynastic union with Poland it become a formidable power that lasted until 1795 after which most of the Baltic States were largely absorbed into the Russian Empire. All three Baltic countries enjoyed a brief period of independence from 1918 until 1939 before a gruelling three-year period under Nazi Germany followed by the Red Army invasion which saw the Baltic States once more incorporated into the Soviet Union. What came next was truly harrowing, a mass deportation of nearly 100,000 “anti-soviet” victims to Siberia and other prison camps, on the back of mass murders of more than 70,000 by the Germans. Russification within Estonia and Latvia saw large numbers of Russian speaking immigrants settle within these countries, a process not shared by Lithuania probably due to having no direct border with the Soviet Union. Today nearly half of Estonians and a third of Latvians speak Russian as their mother tongue and there is a clear divide within both countries of attitudes and loyalties, a situation not helped by schools and universities teaching in either Estonian, Latvian or Russian with no common language to help bring the people together. Average monthly income is between 700-1,200 Euro, no doubt a key factor as to why both Latvia and Lithuania are struggling with population loss due to many young educated adults preferring to relocate and inflation, at the time of writing, was up around 25%.

We arrived into the small port of Tallinn, Estonia via the two-hour Baltic Sea ferry crossing from Helsinki. Disembarking was easy and efficient and less than 5 minutes later we were opening the door to our Airbnb just 2 km from the centre of the Old Town. So, not a particularly large place but WOW, it was cold, everywhere was covered in a thick blanket of snow and the temperature of -3°C may well have been attributable to chilling winds sweeping across from Russia. What we couldn’t possibly have comprehended at the time was that over the days to come we would be exposed to significantly lower sub-zero temperatures and -3°C was about as good as it got - thank goodness we purchased a couple of winter coats in Norway!

The Old Town of Tallinn is a well-preserved medieval northern European trading city on the coast of the Baltic Sea. There is a jumble of 14th and 15th century architecture with medieval walls, pointed spires and a maze of cobblestone streets, many of the impressive buildings a legacy from the wealthy foreign merchants that settled here. Today, the city presents as vibrant and innovative with a wide range of accommodation, restaurants, bars and cafes, but it would be hard not to notice the Soviet style concrete housing blocks and the old women in their full-length fur coats are a constant reminder of what part of the world we are in. English is spoken but nowhere near as fluently nor as widespread as Scandinavia but what is impressive, is that many of the young adults learnt English when TV was introduced into the country once Russian powers had left. Most of the programmes were apparently Spanish novellas with sub-titles which would account for the little bit of Spanish influence around. The younger generation are friendly and outgoing and have a huge enthusiasm for start-ups. You may or may not know that Skype was born here and Estonia is now one of the world’s most advanced digital societies with offerings of driverless buses, autonomous snow-shovelling robots and robot boxes on wheels delivering take-out that arrive with your chosen selection of music and lights. We didn’t actually see any of the take-out delivery robots as, apparently, they don’t travel too well when there is snow on the ground which poses the obvious question as to the whereabouts of the snow-shovellers?!

Leaving Tallinn we headed east towards the Russian border over primarily flat, forested country. For centuries, the region was divided into feudal territories complete with castles and fortresses and the Baltic aristocracy’s penchant for palatial country piles is evidenced by the dozens of manor house estates. Many are abandoned, crumbling ruins but some have been elegantly restored into boutique country hotels and spas and given that our Euros now had considerably more buying power we were keen to treat ourselves to a bit of luxury. We weren’t disappointed as we moved from one mansion to the next, hardly able to believe the affordability of such grand accommodation, but the highlight would have to be our overnight stay at Narva Castle. This recently renovated fortress sits on the west bank of the river Narva, looking straight at the Ivangorod Fortress just 162m of bridge away on the Russian side of the river.

We had always intended to look around the castle which houses the excellent interactive Narva museum and up until the day before we arrived had no idea that the castle offered accommodation in just two rooms within the northern courtyard. Delighted with our discovery we quickly booked a room online and made for the castle. We arrived into Narva just as it was getting dark and major road works right in the middle of the town had Google unable to direct us where we wanted to go, sending us instead into one of the border-crossing terminals. The second we drove through the open barrier, rows of spotlights came to life giving Bob his short period of fame and we sat a bit like rabbits in the headlights half expecting Russian speaking armed guards to appear who we would somehow have to convince that we had been sent the wrong way by Google. Of course, none of this happened, a female non-English speaking official gesticulating wildly but clearly enough, indicated that we needed to turn round and leave which we were only too happy to do. We then did what we should have done in the first place, phoned the castle and waited for them to come and get us. I don’t know what we were expecting once we did eventually arrive at the castle but it certainly wasn’t what happened. We were shown to a nicely furnished stone room, handed the keys to the castle and then left to our own devices. There was no-one else around and we, literally, had the place to ourselves. Yes, we were a little disappointed about the lack of room service or, in fact, any service at all but as a novel experience it will certainly take some beating.

With fun at the Castle over, we turned away from the border and travelled south through the pretty University town of Tartu with its Christmas light village and into Latvia. From the top of Estonia to the bottom is less than 300 km and outside of the smattering of tiny settlements and small towns the countryside is devoid of any sign of life, a theme that continued into Latvia until we reached Sigulda village, lively in comparison due to its resort style facilities which include a vertical wind tunnel (not operating when we were there), a cable car, rope park, toboggan hills and a bobsleigh run.

Bobsleigh is a popular winter sport in Latvia, with medal winning performances in each Olympic games since 2006, a success rate that might be attributable to the modern artificial bobsleigh track built in 1986. The track covers a distance of 1420 meters with 16 curves that are navigated at speeds of up to 125 kph. There are only 18 constructions of this type in the world but what makes the one at Sigulda different is that, outside of international competitions, the track is made available for visitors and tourists looking for a thrill…..

….arriving at the track we wandered around the complex until we found the start of the run. Rather than the queues we had anticipated, we were met by a lone young guy who informed us that a ride on ‘TaxiBob’ was not possible as the pilot and pusher had gone home. However, we were welcome to get a ride on ‘SoftBob’???? but could we wait to see if anyone else turned up otherwise we would have to go down on ‘TheFrog’! OK, so to clarify. TaxiBob is what everyone recognises as a bobsleigh, the one where the occupants push the sled as fast as they can before jumping in and hurtling down the icy tube – obviously the one we wanted to go on although not without a pilot or pusher. Soft Bob is a rather disappointing looking four person padded oblong box that sits flat on the ice without any runners and has no need of steering or pushing. Top speed is a comparatively unimpressive 75 kph. The Frog is a smaller version of Soft Bob but is fully enclosed and rather than sitting down the two occupants lie flat on their tummies looking forwards through a small square of plastic sheeting. Disappointed not to be able to experience TaxiBob, we sat waiting in the empty locker room praying that more people would show and were more than relieved when another couple turned up saving us from a ride on TheFrog. Helmets on, the four of us climbed into Soft Bob and off we went. OMG, SoftBob went so fast that it was almost impossible to get enough breath to generate a scream as he hurtled towards the first bend. Crashing into the side wall he rebounded back onto the track briefly before bouncing off the next bend that came all too fast. At one point we were so high up on the wall that it was 50/50 as to whether a complete 360° was on the cards and it was round about this time that I was ready for the thrill to end. No such luck, we continued to crash, bounce and fly along the track before eventually sliding to a halt. All four of us had such wobbly legs that it took us a while to disembark and had the lone young guy reappeared and offered us a ride on TaxiBob we would most definitely have politely declined.

Sigulda is only 50km north of Riga, the capital of Latvia, but for some strange reason we managed to arrive on the outskirts of the city just as it was getting dark, something we usually try and avoid. It appeared that most of Latvia’s inhabitants lived in and around Riga and we had completely underestimated how busy this city was going to be. We were swept along with the traffic before eventually finding our Airbnb which was accessed through a narrow archway which led into an inner courtyard. We just about managed to squeeze Bob (and the bikes on the back) inside and were relieved to park him for a few days while we explored the city.

Riga would have to be up there with one of the most unexpected places that we have visited so far. This city is really, really, cool and it would have been easy to stay there for longer than the three days that we had arranged. The extremely well preserved Old Town straddles a sheltered natural harbour at the mouth of the Daugava river, separated from New Riga by the City Canal which was once the city’s old defensive moat. Unlike Tallinn, there is not much left of the once mighty fortification bastions that surrounded Riga in the Middle Ages, but the parklands that have been planted in their place are some of the most beautiful we have seen. A rather astonishing discovery for us was the large collection of art nouveau buildings, roughly one third of all buildings in the centre of Riga are built in this style giving the city the highest concentration of art nouveau architecture anywhere in the world. The food scene is very much alive with a central market that is one of the largest in Europe and a healthy cuisine rooted in foraging, fermenting and preserving. There is a good balance between traditional Latvian and foreign dishes with a quality that is as good, if not better, than anything you might find in some of the more gentrified European cities. What sets Riga apart though is a city that is quirky, eclectic and 100% itself. There is a magical quality that you feel as you wander along the cobblestone streets in a place that stakes claim to the first-ever public Christmas tree. This is one city that we would re-visit in a heartbeat.

Something that we hadn’t been able to organise in Scandinavia but were keen to have a go at was husky dog sledding and luckily for us the opportunity appeared just outside of Riga in the Ogre Zilie Kalni (Blue Hills) Nature Park. It would be difficult to imagine a more perfect place to stand on a sledge behind a team of six huskies as they pull you through the snow-covered pine tree forest. There is a conscientious aspect to any experience involving animals and nature and it is not always easy to separate the unethical operations as they are often well marketed and misleading. However, we had no such concerns about Riga Husky Sledding. All of the dogs involved (there were 34 at last count) had either been taken from animal shelters, handed over from previous owners or, in a couple of cases, turned up on their own. It is easy to recognise a healthy, happy animal and the dogs that we interacted with were definitely living their best life. The dogs were a mix of large Alaskan malamutes and smaller Siberian huskies and our six were harnessed up with the smallest, smartest guy up front with size and pulling power increasing to the powerhouses at the back. The noise as we waited for the dogs to take off was quite something. The harnessed dogs were kicking up a racket which was accompanied by an even louder howling and whining coming from the dogs waiting for their turn, but as soon as the dogs were given the command to run there was an almost eerie silence as the dogs threw their weight into the harnesses and took off until they reached a speed of nearly 30 kmh. On reaching the first uphill the pace settled and what followed was an almost dreamlike ride through the snowy landscape. The respectful relationship between the dogs and the woman in charge of the operation was clear to see and her partner (who spoke better English) told us that next year they are hoping to take part in the annual 300km Sedivackuz Long race, one of the hardest dogsledding races in Europe – we wish them the best of luck.

With daily temperatures now averaging between -5° and -9°C it is unbelievable to us as sun lovers that we are still so far north, but we had underestimated how much we would enjoy the whole winter wonderland experience. It is difficult to provide an image of the countryside as everything is completely white and it is possible that without the pretty dusting we may not have chosen to stay so long but there is still Lithuania to cross before reaching Poland and central Europe.

The border area between Latvia and Lithuania appeared to us to be a 30 km section of no man’s land with not much sign of either buildings or people. It just so happened that there was a snow blizzard as we were driving through and once again we had fingers crossed that Bob would not let us down. It was so cold that the snow falling on the windscreen was freezing on contact and the build-up of ice on the windscreen wipers was making an already treacherous drive even more difficult. It was quite some time before we spotted another vehicle, a car at the back of a convoy fronted by a large truck. Excellent, we tagged on the end so grateful that there would be help available should the worst happen. Gradually, small towns started to appear and everything began to feel a bit more normal but it was a long slow drive along snow covered roads and a sense that we would have to be a lot further south before the weather was going to improve.

Predominantly independent for most of its history, Lithuania became part of the Russian Empire in 1795 after which time a series of unsuccessful rebellions from both the Lithuanians and the Poles took place. A large number of perished rebels were lost which is thought to have been the start of erecting symbolic crosses at the site of a former hill fort just outside the northern city of Siaullai. Three times during 1961, 1973 and 1975 the hill was levelled, the crosses were burned or turned into scrap metal and the area was covered with waste and sewage. Following each desecration local inhabitants and pilgrims from all over Lithuania rapidly replaced the crosses until in 1985 the Hill of Crosses was finally left in peace. There are now thousands of crosses at this site of national pilgrimage, ranging from three meters tall to tiny crosses hanging upon the larger ones, some beautifully carved out of wood or sculpted from metal and brought to the site from all around the world. Apart from one snow plough, we had the place to ourselves and if it hadn’t been quite so cold we could easily have stayed listening to the sound of the metal crosses and hanging rosaries as they chimed in the breeze.

Vilnius, capital of Lithuania was the last place for us to visit before leaving the Baltics but we did have another unusual overnight experience at Burbiskio House, an impressively large heritage mansion set in extensive grounds just outside the small ski resort of Anyksciai. The location was quite remote and it was late afternoon when we arrived at the impressive neo-classical building, a building whose only signs of life were a non-english speaking caretaker riding a quad bike. He seemed a bit surprised to see us but after a quick phone call he walked us through the house, flicking light switches as he went, showed us our room and left. So there we were, the sole occupants of the most enormous country hotel complete with library, billiard room, ballroom and a large selection of stuffed animal trophies to keep us company. We had anticipated a meal in the restaurant but that was clearly not an option so we cooked ourselves a meal in the massive commercial kitchen and retired upstairs hoping that someone would show in the morning to offer us an omelette and coffee – which they did!

So that is some of our experiences within the Baltic States. Certainly, a very different part of the world but well worth visiting. These relatively new born nations still have an underlying concern regarding Russia’s renewed assertiveness, but there is a growing optimism due to their stronger links with Europe. To really put in perspective the resilience and strength of these people, in 1989 in protest against continuing Russian occupation, over two million people joined hands to form a human chain connecting the capitals of Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania, a length of 675 km (420 miles).

December 05, 2022

Finland, Sweden & Orca

December 05, 2022/ Sarah Lock

We are still above the Arctic Circle, an area of about 20,000,000 km² (7,700,000² mi) that covers roughly 4% of the earth’s surface. It is an area populated by some 4 million people across the countries of Norway, Sweden, Finland, Denmark (Greenland), Russia, Canada, the United States (Alaska) and Iceland and a quick calculation shows that population density is 1 person for every 5 km², which would explain why we are not bumping into too many people. Our experience so far of this region has solely been in Norway which has far exceeded any expectations we might have had and having literally driven until land ran out it is almost time to head south.

Almost…. there was just one more item on our list before saying goodbye to Norway for good but as this was date sensitive we had some time to kill beforehand. With a small window of a week or so we decided to spend a few days in Saariselka, one of the Finnish Lapland winter resorts. Driving from the North Cape towards the Norway/Finland border, a distance of nearly 300 km, was straight-forward until we reached the small town of Karasjok, one of three crossing points between the two countries. Just as we arrived, late afternoon, it started to snow and within minutes the landscape transformed into a winter wonderland. Unlike our previous limited experience of snow which either disappeared on contact with the ground or quickly turned into a brown mush, this stuff stuck and transformed everything it touched into a crisp white image straight off a Christmas card. It continued to snow throughout the night and temperatures plummeted, so much so that poor Bob’s central locking system froze. Moments before we lost our extremities to frostbite, Ian managed to get the passenger side door open and we breathed a sigh of relief as Bob started and we set off cautiously to cover the remaining 200 km to Saariselka. We certainly felt a long way away from South Australia, our home for the last 26 years, and were, without doubt, way out of our comfort zone as we made our way along roads that were disappearing under thin layers of snow and ice. But Bob pushed on slow and steady and we crossed over into Lapland, the largest and northern-most region of Finland, roughly the size of Portugal and almost entirely within the Arctic Circle.

If Norway is the land of mountains and fjords, then Finland is the land of reindeer and lakes and we were ridiculously excited as we waited for our first reindeer to cross the road in front of us. Home for the next few days was at a secluded cabin, complete with sauna, just outside the small town of Saariselka and it would have been difficult to imagine a more authentic stay in this remote and beautiful part of the world. Away from the lights of the town we were again treated to the most fantastic display of Aurora Borealis, something that neither of us will ever forget

Keen to get up closer to a reindeer, we arranged to visit a nearby reindeer farm to meet with some of the Sami, inhabitants of large northern parts of Norway, Sweden, Finland and Russia and the only indigenous group within the EU. Despite being out of season and the farm typically closed to tourists, the Sami had agreed to meet us and we were fascinated to learn a bit more about these people whose way of life has been dependent on the reindeer for over 1,000 years. Traditionally, the Sami lived in a lavvu (similar to a Native American Tipi), a temporary structure made of wood and hides that enabled the Sami to follow/herd the reindeer on their annual migration between the coast and the high winter grazing grounds. They were totally dependent on the reindeer for clothing, meat and trade but this nomadic way of life was forced to change during the 17th century as a result of the formation of new country regions and border lines restricting movement of both reindeer and people. Taxes were introduced and placed on the Sami people who, with no monetary money, paid in the form of reindeer hides and meat. Only Sami can legally own the 200,000 or so reindeer that roam Finland and it just so happened that our arrival coincided with the arrival of large numbers of reindeer as they were herded by snowmobiles to their winter grazing land on the plateau. High wooden temporary fences had been erected to temporarily hold the reindeer in order to identify ownership (made possible by ear notches particular to each Sami family) and for decisions to be made as to which reindeer would be used for meat/hide/trade and which would be taken back to the farms to pull the sleds with the remainder left to do what reindeer naturally do. The reindeer we were introduced to were surprisingly stocky with big thick necks and huge antlers and we were surprised to learn that both male and female reindeer have antlers that fall off and take just six weeks to grow back each year. It is an incredibly humbling experience to spend time with people that continue to do what generations before them have always done (albeit now with snowmobiles), despite the world changing around them. Climate change is also starting to have an effect on their way of life as warming winters are causing build-up of ice where there would normally be snow which makes access to the winter feed of lichen much more difficult for the reindeer – a subject covered on David Attenborough’s Frozen Planet 2 that aired recently.

We left Saariselka just as the resort was starting to wake up for the Christmas season and headed back into Norway. We couldn’t believe the difference a few days had made, all the lakes we had driven past just five days previously were now completely frozen and the snowy landscape accompanied us all the way back to Skjervoy, a small town on Skjervoya island, linked to the northern mainland by a 2 km long undersea tunnel. This sleepy fishing village with a population of 2,500 was thrust onto the tourist map in 2017 with the arrival of large schools of herring (a single school can contain over 3 billion individuals) into the surrounding Lyngenfjord. Previously the herring had been spawning in the waters around Tromso but in 2017 they migrated further north, followed closely by the whales. Fin whales, Humpback whales and Orca followed the herring deep into the fjord and close to the shores of Skjervoy, a pattern that has been repeated every year since. We were booked onto a 12-passenger rib boat (rigid inflatable) along with nine other people, all of us hoping that our trip would coincide with the arrival of the whales, that had so far been absent. We had been on the water less than 15 minutes when our guide pointed out the huge blows of two gigantic Fin whales. The second largest animal on the planet weighing up to 80 ton, they are also the fastest of the whale species able to travel up to speeds around 40 kmh. It was easy to see their 6m high blows but they were travelling too quickly for us to get a good look at them - unlike the pod of Humpback whales that next appeared. These magestic creatures seemed quite content for us to drift alongside them for some time as they glided gracefully on the surface of the fjord before diving down and giving us a fantastic show of tails. Already we had seen more whales than we could have realistically expected to see but the best was yet to come. Orca – a pod of at least a dozen killer whales suddenly appeared and unbelievably they were herding a large school of herring directly towards us. Orca live within their pods for their entire lives and each pod typically contains both young and old male and female members. They are the largest of the dolphins and immediately recognisable by their distinctive black-and-white colouring. We couldn’t believe our eyes as these intelligent, powerful predators manoeuvred the herring into a tight ball which ended up directly under our boat. The Orca ducked and dived around us and spotting the opportunity to get a free feed, it wasn’t long before the Humpbacks were heading over to join the buffet. We watched in disbelief as more Orca and Humpbacks approached from all directions. The feeding continued for over half an hour and during this time we were completely surrounded by the whales as well as on top of them as they swam under the boat. We were always hopeful that we might see Orca but not for one minute could we have imagined such an experience.

The music on the whale video is Orca, The Killer Whale (original soundtrack), Ennio Morricone, widely considered to be one of the most prolific and greatest film composers of all time with soundtracks that include ‘A Fistful Of Dollars’, ‘The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly’, ‘The Untouchables’ ‘Cinema Paradiso’ and many more.

It was now well and truly time to start heading South. Hours of daylight were down to six and were decreasing by about 15 minutes per day and in another couple of weeks or so the polar night would be well and truly upon us. There are many options south with routes through Norway, Finland and Sweden but keen to stick a new flag on Bob we headed for the Swedish border. First though, we had to climb over the Lyngen Alps and up onto the Finnmark plateau, a large expanse of wild, desolate mountain plain, an area greater than 22,000² km. Bleak would go some way to describing the landscape, isolated and desolate might also help to conjure up more of a picture of the 300 km drive to Kilpisjarvi, Finland and then on to Karesuvanto where we could cross over to Karesuando, Sweden. Although not a huge distance to cover along E6 and E8 roads, the driving was slow, not just due to the poor road conditions but also the narrow single lane roads which necessitated a ‘sharing’ of the middle section with oncoming logging trucks travelling at speeds of over 90 kmh. We couldn’t help but wonder, “do they have better tyres than us, more of them or just a different set of driving skills? Regardless, they didn’t do ‘sharing’ which meant that we were continually forced off a road that we couldn’t see into snow drifts at the side, ever grateful that the drifts weren’t concealing a deep ditch. Still above the Arctic Circle we made it into Sweden without mishap and the only stop we wanted to make was at Jukkasjarvi, home to the original and largest of the world’s Ice Hotels. This hotel complex is 200 km north of the Arctic Circle and sits on the western bank of the Torne river, one of the last untouched rivers in Europe, that for half its length defines the border between Sweden and Finland. Each year between November and April the usually free-flowing river freezes, leaving a crystal clear ice that since 1989 has been harvested for the purpose of creating an art exhibition/hotel made entirely of snow and ice.

Ice 'sauna' room, including ice towel, Ice Hotel.jpg

Re-built from scratch each November using huge blocks of ice weighing two tons apiece, the ice hotel comes to life courtesy of the fifteen to twenty invited graphic designers, architects, industrial engineers and artists who turn their concepts into reality. As most of the art work is transparent, a lot of attention is then given to creative lighting that best interprets and enhances each art work. The entire process typically takes six weeks, after which the hotel is open from mid December to April. In 2016 the hotel expanded its facilities and introduced the IceHotel 365, a resort offering accommodation in both traditional warm rooms and cabins as well as the opportunity to stay in 18, all-year-round, ice rooms which maintain their sub-zero temperatures using solar power. The complex also has an ice bar, ice cinema, heated restaurants, an ice-sculpting studio and ice chapel. We weren’t at all tempted to stay overnight in one of the ice rooms but the standard of the ice sculpting was right up there and if you happen to be passing it is well worth stopping to have a look.

Given the freezing temperatures and fading daylight, there was nothing else really for us to hang around for and so we drove off into a 12.30pm setting sun back towards the Arctic Circle. This imaginary line that circles the North Pole acts a bit like a portal and almost immediately on crossing over we found ourselves back in a more familiar world. There were people around, and lots of cars travelling easily on snow-free roads and we were able to progress at thrilling speeds above 35 kph as we drove south through hundreds of kilometres of dense, green forests. Relieved to be back on solid ground, we were also grateful to be leaving before this area too would be covered in snow and ice, a state that could continue for the next 6 months or so.

Umea is a university town in eastern Sweden and the only port outside Stockholm to provide ferry transport between Sweden and Finland across the Gulf of Bothnia (the northern arm of the Baltic Sea). The crossing takes 3 hours on the brand new Aurora Botnia which was designed and built in 2021 specifically for this route. To date, it is the world’s most environmentally friendly car and passenger ferry, primarily using LNG as it’s fuel source, and offers more of a cruise ship experience than your typical car ferry. Like most ferries operating so far north it is an icebreaker, operating across a semi-enclosed basin of water that is 300 km long, 100-150 km wide and, on average, 41 m deep. The ice can reach a thickness of 70-120 cm and last from 130 to 200 days a year but being slightly ahead of the curve and with no ice to hinder our crossing, we docked, exactly 3 hours later, at the port of Vaasa, Finland and immediately made for Helsinki. Our 90 day allowable stay in Europe was, again, almost up and it was time for us to make another visa run in and out of the UK. To facilitate our comings and goings, we rented a log cabin in the Sipoonkorpi National Park, just 30 km north of Helsinki and relatively close to Vantaa which is where Helsinki’s airport is. Ian went first and was in and out of Gatwick airport the same day, leaving Helsinki on his Australian passport and returning on his British one with a minimum of fuss. I left a couple of days later and again flew in (British passport) and out (Australian passport) of Manchester airport, arriving back to Helsinki at midnight a few days later. So far, our system of swapping passports seems to be working but surely there will come a time when all individual information is collated into one system and we will have to explore other avenues if we want to stay for any extended period within the EU.

Fortunately, not something that we currently have to deal with and with another 90 days in our passports we are now ready to leave Scandinavia and head to the Baltic States. There is a very convenient two-hour ferry that links Helsinki with Tallinn, Estonia and excited to be heading into a different part of Europe we splurged on a €40 upgrade to the business lounge which included unlimited alcohol and a superb buffet. Important to note here that, for the past three months, a similar sum of money would have struggled to purchase a couple of coffees and a pastry each!

November 11, 2022

Norway Part II

November 11, 2022/ Sarah Lock

It took four days to get the parts and replace Bob’s clutch and as the odometer was showing exactly 100,000 km we decided to get him a full service as well – in for a penny, why not a bucketload more?! This gave us plenty of time to enjoy Trondheim, a vibrant University city with a charming old centre and plenty of cosy coffee shops and winebars to relax in. Nevertheless, we were keen to progress north, particularly to reach the North Cape (Nordkapp) and thanks to Oddvar and his truck we were now a lot further north than had we been left to our own devices and were starting to feel quite optimistic about reaching our objective. It was such a relief to receive the phone call confirming that Bob was ready to go and we were able to get back on the road albeit much poorer but blissfully unaware that the mechanic had forgotten to tighten any of the battery connections!

There are two routes to the extreme north, the F17 Kystriksveien and the more direct E6 which runs up the middle of this narrow part of Norway. The F17 hugs the much-indented coastline alongside the Norwegian Sea and given that the National Geographic has listed this route as one of the most scenic roads in the world and taking into account the not insignificant fact that we would get a break from all the mountain driving, the F17 was the route for us.

Not surprisingly, the scenery continued to awe and our conversation soon dwindled to a one word rally of Wow. Being out of season, the road was quiet and, unlike further south, there was no sign of any touring motorcyclists, just a few Norwegian and German registered campervans. The lack of traffic enabled us to take our time and we stopped again and again and again trying to capture the beauty of it all on a 6” screen. We progressed through a rugged landscape framed by mountain peaks, weaving our way along a coastline that navigated endless fjords, some of which extended inland 200 km with depths of over a kilometre. Off this 700 km stretch of road alone there are about 12,000 islands, many with frequent ferry connections and it would be easy to lose yourself for weeks on end in this area of staggering beauty. Other highlights included the Svartisen glacier, the second largest glacier in Norway, an arm of which stretches down to almost sea level and Saltstraumen the world’s strongest maelstrom. Six ferry crossings link the F17 across the larger sea inlets and the one hour crossing between Kilboghamn and Jektvik took us over the Arctic Circle putting us 2,600 km from the North Pole and 1,017 km from our objective, the northernmost point on the European mainland.

Despite the rapidly cooling temperatures and shortening days we are still camping and whilst the sleeping part is ok, as with three of us inside and the use of a diesel heater we are warm enough, cooking and staying warm at the end of the day has started to become a challenge. Rather than overthink the logistics going forward, once we reached Bodo, gateway to the Lofoten Islands and end of the F17, we caught the car ferry over to Moskenes, one of the five main islands within the Lofoten archipelago. The islands are also accessible by driving from the mainland but this option only really works if you are approaching from the north. The twice daily ferry from Bodo (1 am and 4.45 pm) crosses the Vestfjord, a 155 km long oceanic sea, and whilst it only takes around 3 hours to cover the width of 90 km, it was about 2½ hours too long as the vessel lurched and rolled its way across the choppy waters. Glad to disembark we drove to the southernmost tip of Lofoten’s southernmost island and after a couple of navigational errors found ourselves in a cosy Rorbu, one of the distinctive red fisherman cabins that are an iconic part of this magical place.

Tourism is undoubtedly the most valuable industry for the 24,000 or so people that live on the islands today but this isolated part of Norway has been inhabited for an estimated 11,000 years and has played an important part in the economy of Norway due to its location just north of the Vestfjord, a gigantic band of sea with a unique ecosystem. Each winter, between January and March, literally millions of pregnant Atlantic cod/skrei leave their normal habitat of the Barents Sea, the body of water that separates Europe’s northernmost reaches from the polar ice cap, and swim about 1000 km southwards following the temperate waters of the Gulf Stream to the sheltered waters of the Vestfjord to spawn. This annual phenomenom brings the cod close to the mainland side of Lofoten which, for centuries, has made for easy fishing with the use of small boats, nets and handlines. Thousands of fishermen would arrive to take part in the annual Lofoton fishery and each red cabin provided a place for up to 12 men to sleep and hold up during the frigid winter nights. Once caught, the majority of the large haul was, and still is, hung on huge racks for the 3-4 months that it takes for the fish to dry under the perfect climate conditions found on the islands. This Stockfish of Lofoton is a unique product and has been traded since the early 12th century making it the country’s longest sustained export commodity. The winter Lofoten fishery is still the world’s largest cod fishing but, of course, fishing techniques today are more commercialised and the little red cabins are now rented out as vacation homes. Built on poles partly out of the water and gathered in clusters around small jettys, the cabins provide cosy and often luxurious accommodation for the influx of visitors that make the journey to this remote part of Norway. And why red? – apparently it was the cheapest colour of paint available!

We spent a week exploring the unparalleled beauty of what must be some of the most spectacular islands in the world, a place where human intervention has been minimal leaving the jagged mountains, deep fjords, clear blue waters and stunning coastlines relatively unchanged for thousands of years. Reluctant to head back onto the mainland we continued in a north-easterly direction onto the Vesteralen archipelago. The seven islands that make up Vesteralen are all connected by bridges and tunnels with further connections back onto the mainland. Less populated, less known and less visited than Lofoten these islands are a lot quieter but just as beautiful.

Our big ticket item whilst in Norway was to see the Northern Lights (aurora borealis) and to help us find them Ian had downloaded the Aurora Alerts app. Whilst on Vesteralen the app suddenly came to life and showed a strong possibility to see the lights over the next few nights. The Northern Lights are actually active all year round but generally only visible in the aurora zone between 65° and 72° North during a cloudless dark night. The lights are caused by electrically charged particles that are pushed out by the sun, this constant stream known as the solar wind, travels at speeds of between 300 and 500 km per second in all directions. Around 98% of these particles are deflected but those that enter the earth’s atmosphere collide with our atoms and molecules to create glowing rings of auroral emission around both magnetic poles. Currently at 68° north and with favourable conditions, we wanted to give ourselves the best chance of viewing the lights and so we drove to a northern facing headland and set up camp. Despite a decent sized campfire we were in bed by 8pm as it was just too cold to sit around outside and Ian set the alarm to go off at regular intervals during the night. However, at 9.30pm he needed to pee and crawled out of Bob to do the necessary. I was woken by a flurry of activity outside as, for once, Ian was attempting to multitask. He had a few issues – he was half asleep attending to business when he suddenly realised that he was standing stark bollock naked in sub-zero temperatures and there was the most amazing light show going on above him, he desperately wanted to get to his phone, was keen to get me out of bed and… HE STILL HAD NO CLOTHES ON!! It is not often that I get to see Ian in an excitable state or moving at speed, a memorable occasion only just over-shadowed by our first ever look at the northern lights.

Heading back onto the mainland we made a quick stop at Harstad which is the northern gateway to Lofoton and Vesteralen and the second largest city in northern Norway after Tromso. For a few days Bob had been temperamental and it was 50/50 each time we went to start him as to whether he would fire or not. It was like the battery was flat which we knew wasn’t the case and after all the problems with the clutch we were a bit concerned about getting stranded again. It took the guys at the garage less than ten minutes to tighten up the loose battery connections which was a bitter sweet moment given the huge relief to resolve the issue so easily but definitely a bit embarrassing as we really should have been able to sort this out ourselves – Oh well! The main thing was that we were now only 300km from Tromso where we had Bob booked in for new treads. When we purchased Bob he was running on BF Goodrich Mud Terrain and as we had been more than happy with them we had continued to use them, but as we progressed further north it seemed that every time we had a conversation with anyone the subject of tyres came up. It is mandatory in parts of Europe and Scandinavia for vehicles to have winter tyres between certain dates, the specific dates varying from country to country. The definition of a winter tyre also differs from country to country making it quite tricky to navigate when you only want one set of tyres and don’t intend to be in the snowy areas for more than 2-3 months. The BF Goodrich All Terrain T/A KO2 is not recognised in Norway as a winter tyre but is classified as a four-season tyre approved for winter use, whereas the Mud Terrain whilst good in deep and loose snow are not so good on ice and shallow or packed snow. We rang quite a few garages before we found one willing to order the All Terrains and when we arrived to have them fitted we could see that the guys were not familiar with the tyres and were a bit unsure about putting them on. Less than a week later we were pulled over by the police who showed an interest in where we were from and where we were going but throughout the exchange just kept staring at our tyres. We assumed that they were just as unfamiliar with this type of tyre and weren’t sure whether it qualified as a winter tyre or not. Ultimately, they wished us good luck and we were once again on our way to the North Cape with fingers crossed that we had picked tyres that would cope with the weather that we knew was not far away.

It would be impossible to visit Norway without coming across some of the many mysterious rock formations and mountains with their troll-like shapes and accompanying stories. The mythical Troll creatures, that live in the darkness so as not to be turned to stone by the sun, are an important part of Nordic folklore with many legends weaved into the landscape. We had already sat on Trolltunga, the Troll’s tongue that had been turned to stone as the cheeky Troll stuck it out at the sun and just off the F17 we camped underneath three of The Seven Sisters, a majestic chain of peaks that were once seven virgin daughters of a local Troll King running south to escape the unwanted advances of the son of another Troll King. Not far from the Seven Sisters is the unusual rock Torghatten which was the hat of yet another Troll King (obviously many Troll Kings in Norway) which intercepted the arrow fired by the spurned Troll Prince which was aimed at the maiden in charge of the seven virgins. Given all the excitement going on it seems reasonable to assume that no one was paying attention to the fact that the sun was rising hence the addition of quite a few new rock formations. Meanwhile, further north a group of trolls carrying large chests filled with silver were on their way across the Finnmark plateau but were caught out by the high tide of the Porsanger Fjord at Trollholmsund. So engrossed where they in forming a plan to cross the Fjord that they didn’t notice the sun rising and were also turned to stone. Notwithstanding their ugly reputation and apparent stupidity, Trolls are very much a part of Norway and the souvenir shops are full of them.

The temperature has now cooled to the point where our olive oil is solid and we have drained our water tanks. For our own peace of mind we also had Bob’s anti-freeze checked and were told that he would be able to cope in temperatures as low as -32°C?????? – Let’s hope we don’t have to put this to the test! Snow and ice alerts have started popping up on our phones and camping is no longer an option. We are definitely a bit apprehensive about being so far north but determined to reach the Cape. The E6 north from Tromso crosses over the Kvaenangsfjellet mountain pass before joining Route 69 which follows the spectacular coastline through a smattering of small fishing villages and towns. 160 km before the Cape the scenery changes dramatically, the vegetation disappears and the lone flat road cuts through a barren tundra landscape dotted occasionally with small groups of seemingly abandoned rustic cabins. We didn’t see any reindeer other than pictured on the roadsigns and really it felt as if all animals and people had packed up and headed south before the winter really kicked in. The North Cape is a large plateau on the island of Mageroya, connected to the mainland by an underwater tunnel 6.8 km long with a gradient of 9% that takes you 212 metres below sea level. The further north we went, the more dreamlike the experience became and it was hard to shake off the feeling that we were somewhere that perhaps we shouldn’t have been, a feeling probably intensified by the lack of other travellers on the road save for one or two Norwegian registered campervans. Despite the snow forecast the weather was still clear which meant that we didn’t have to wait for the convoy that operates once the road is officially closed in winter. The winter convoy is led by one snow plough whilst a second plough brings up the rear and operates twice a day for the final 13 km of exposed and winding road that heads up onto the plateau. Although the convoy sounded like an adventure in itself, our timing was such that we were able to progress unaccompanied past the toll booth, through the barrier and into one of the car parks where we joined just two other vehicles. It would be hard to imagine a less busy time to visit, the place was virtually deserted even though the visitors center, gift shop, bar/café, chapel and cinema were all open. (The short film being shown was an excellent look at the North Cape through the seasons: https://www.imdb.com/title/tt1735483/?ref_=ext_shr_lnk There were various monuments and statues scattered around, including a seemingly misplaced, mystifying statue of the King of Thailand, but the most notable was definitely the Globe, the symbol of Nordkapp positioned on top of the cliffs marking the end point of Europe - the northernmost of the continental mainland. Of course, we wanted to get a photo of Bob alongside this recognisable monument but a quick chat with a couple of members of staff revealed that the area was out of bounds to vehicles and to emphasise the point large rocks and boulders had been strategically placed to block off any access points. Bugger! Undeterred, we wandered around the center and struck up a conversation with a different employee who told us that once the centre closed and the staff left at 4pm there would be no one around to monitor any misdeeds. Well, we hadn’t come all this way to return empty handed and so we hung around until eventually the staff all piled into a transit van and left, leaving the way clear for us to get our photo. Not wasting any time, we quickly navigated the obstacles and got the proof that was needed to show that we had driven as far north as it was possible to go.

looking over to north cape plateau from knivskjellsodden

We might have driven as far as we could BUT, strictly speaking, the North Cape is not the northernmost point of continental Europe. There is a small, unspectacular pensinsula (Knivskjellsodden) right next to it that reaches 1.5 km further out into the sea. There is no road and to reach it requires a 9 km walk each way. Two days later we were back and parked 2 km short of the Cape at the trailhead of the Knivskjellsodden hike. The weather was a mixture of rain, sleet and small amounts of snow all driven by a strong wind coming straight off the Arctic Ocean. We sat in the car deliberating on the sense of undertaking quite a long hike in such weather until we eventually agreed to head out for an hour or so. Two and a half hours later and covered in mud, we arrived at the true northernmost point where a little white box was sat on a rocky shelf with a visitors book inside surely made the effort worthwhile!

And for all you purists out there, do either of these points count given that they are on an island and not the mainland? If such details are important to you, the northernmost point on the European continental shelf would be Kinnarodden, which is 50 km or so further to the East, a destination that is a 7 hour car drive and 6 hour hike away – maybe next time?!

October 15, 2022

Norway Part I

October 15, 2022/ Sarah Lock

LEROY CAN’T BELIEVE NOBODY WANTS TO SEE HIS PASSPORT!

The Fjord Line high-speed catamaran from Hirtshals, Denmark to Kristiansand, Norway is huge with capacity for over 400 cars and 1200 passengers and although we weren’t aware at the time, a state-of-the-art 51,000 horsepower behemoth that only came into operation earlier this year. As well as doubling previous capacity, it has reduced the passage time by a third to just over two hours and judging by the 400 or so vehicles waiting to board looked to be the popular choice over the alternative ferry line. We had indicated that we had a dog with us when we booked the tickets on-line and, as requested had updated Leroy’s rabies jabs and obtained a certificate to show that he had recently been administered with tapeworm tabs. Despite being told to present him at the pet reception on arrival, we were waved through the barrier and onto the ferry with all the other vehicles without any checks and no paperwork was asked for. This was obviously a big disappointment for Leroy as he had been hoping to show off his new Danish passport!

Everyone was loaded with typical Scandinavian efficiency and we departed bang on time but just 15 minutes later an announcement was made that one of the engines wasn’t working and sailing time would therefore be the same as it had always been – just over three hours. Good news for us as we had paid extra to gain access to the lounge where first time ferry users were invited to sit right at the front of the vessel behind the floor to ceiling windows with access to an excellent free buffet. Sitting in prime position we were able to fully appreciate the grey sea, grey sky and grey sea mist and on arrival into Kristiansand we drove down the ferry ramp into an absolute deluge of rain. It was so torrential that we were barely able to see through the windscreen, added to which the traffic was a nightmare with various road works and long queues stretching out in every direction. Feeling a bit disoriented we joined the traffic and headed west towards Flekkefjord from where we would follow the Jaeren coastal route 130km to Bore before heading inland. Norway has 18 scenic routes that extend throughout the country and for want of a better plan we would be making our way north utilising as many of these routes as possible.

Naively, we were expecting a straight-forward drive along the coast before having to contend with the narrow, steep, mountain roads that we had been warned about numerous times by the Danes. How wrong were we?! We were only 10 minutes away from the ferry and already navigating a thin windy road that appeared to be making its way up the side of a mountain. The weather wasn’t letting up and we drove for just over an hour before calling it a day and pulling into a tiny lay-by which appeared to be in the middle of nowhere. It was dark, wet and miserable with visibility almost zero due to the heavy clouds and mist and we were a bit dismayed when a sprinter van arrived and against all the odds managed to squeeze itself alongside us. As is often the case, everything looked a lot better in the morning and we crawled out of Bob to find that we were parked overlooking the glorious Fridafjord, an expanse of bright blue water sparkling away beneath a glorious sunny sky. It was a great opportunity to get the drone up as we had breakfast with our German neighbours, a young couple making the most of four-weeks paternal leave by touring southern Norway.

Norway is over 1,600 km long, the longest country in Europe and if it was a piece of wood hinged by a nail driven through the centre of Oslo and you swung it around, it would reach all the way to Sicily in southern Italy. It is also one of those countries with a right to roam law which gives everyone access to public land for a variety of activities, including overnight camping. An ideal place to be if your home is your vehicle and too much of your time is spent looking for somewhere to park up for the night. We had also heard a rumour that there were free showers and washing machines on offer in Flekkefjord which seemed unlikely but as we were going there anyway….

….our journey the following day continued in much the same vein, as Bob twisted and turned along the steep narrow roads and we started to grasp the reality of driving through a country of which about two-thirds is mountainous. Although narrow and winding, the roads are in very good condition and judging from the large number of motorcycles around, a bikers dream. Taking twice as long as anticipated, we eventually arrived at Flekkerfjord, a pretty coastal town with cobbled streets, well-kept timbered houses and marinas full of white bobbing boats. The town is quite small and it didn’t take us long to find the tourist information and free facilities, we couldn’t believe our luck, not just showers but a Miele washing machine and tumble drier as well! After a rather gloomy start in Norway things were definitely looking up and we made full use of the amenities whilst chatting to other travellers who had the same idea. There was a great little bakery close by where we bought some coffee and lunch which confirmed that as expensive as we found Denmark, Norway was in a whole different league!

But, WOW, it must surely be one of the most beautiful countries in the world and is marked by the UN as one of the best countries to live due to its high living standards and lifestyle. With a moderate population of 5.3 million there is plenty of space amongst the most spectacular scenery of snow-capped mountains, beautiful deep blue fjords with their mirror surfaces and over 50,000 islands. The mountains are not particularly high, Galdhøpiggen at 2,469 m is the highest, but they are often very steep, so steep in fact that some have never been climbed (National Geographic). The vast mountain ranges that typically run north-south are broken up by the valleys and fjords that were created when the glaciers melted at the end of the last ice age over 11,000 years ago. Several of the ranges have road and railroad passes which are typically closed once the snow arrives which is usually around October-November until May. With such an amazing playground, it comes as no surprise that Norwegians love the outdoors and, as well as a strong focus on winter sports, particularly cross-country skiing, hiking is also huge.

Probably the best known and one of the most popular hikes is Preikstolen (Pulpit Rock) which achieved global fame after its appearance in Mission: Impossible Fallout, you know, the one where Ethan is seen clinging onto a sheer rock face by his fingernails? This hike, that finishes on a flat plateau of granite rock overlooking the beautiful Lysefjord, is very doable which attracts a motley assortment of people with a wide-ranging approach to clothing and fitness levels. Some are seen with the best hiking gear that money can buy, totally kitted out and prepared for any natural disaster that may occur, whilst others take a more casual approach. We saw pink socks with matching pompoms on the back and one young woman wearing those white slippers found in many hotels, but I think the prize would have to go to the large lady in turquoise flared satin pants with matching push-up bra! As we slogged our way uphill we were often overtaken by those extremely fit super-humans progressing at a steady run and we in turn passed those courageous individuals who gave the impression that today was the day to start their previously non-existent fitness regime, a decision that had them gasping for breath as they strived to reach the 604m high, flat clifftop. As a general guide the hike takes around four-hours return plus however long you have to wait in line to get your Instagram shot, which for us was about 30 minutes. We had heard of people queuing for up to three hours and figure this is yet another indicator that tourist numbers are still low which is making it a great time to travel.

Once Pulpit Rock has been ticked off, the next hike on the list would probably be Kjeragbolten which also finishes at a notable spot suspended above the Lysefjord but takes a bit more effort to complete. Looking on the map if would be a quick drive from one to the other except there aren’t any connecting roads which meant that we had to go back across the fjord on the Lauvvik/Oanes ferry and drive along the other side before crossing over a mountain pass in order to reach Oygardstol, the car park and Eagles Nest restaurant that is at the beginning (and end) of the hike. By the time you reach this point you have just about completed 300° of a circle and are almost back where you started. It took us most of the day to make our way around and we ended up camping in a small lay-by just below Oygardstol ready to make an early start the following morning. Kjerag is the name of the mountain to be climbed and Kjeragbolten the infamous boulder that is wedged above a 984 m abyss and the hike to get up there is challenging. It is more of a climb than a hike as the terrain is steep granite mostly navigated with the use of chains and, hopefully, grippy footwear. This time there was no wait for that all important photo which could possibly be attributed to a few things – 1. only about 25% of hikers opt to step out onto the rock and claim their moment of glory, 2. the mountain was generally quiet with only a few hikers making the climb and 3. however scary you think it looks in the photos it is way more scary in reality. Leroy and I offered to act as official photographers whilst Ian, utilising a rare surge of adrenalin, walked around the extremely narrow open-sided ledge before stepping out onto the top of the famous bolder. Go Ian!!! The hike took us about 5 hours all up but the fun wasn’t quite over as we still had to complete the drive down from Oygardstol to the tiny hamlet of Lysebotn. This side of the mountain is a real roller-coaster with narrow roads and 27 hairpin bends ending with a tunnel that winds back on itself 340° through the mountain. Driving down in second gear, we eventually arrived in Lysebotn accompanied by a burning rubber smell indicating that we had just decreased the lifespan of our new brake pads by about 6 months. We booked into a small campground cabin on the edge of the Lysefjord, took our boots off and gazed out at yet another of Norway’s mind-blowing vistas.

The 260 km Ryfylke scenic route runs north from Oanes on the Lysefjord to Roldal and is a spectacular drive with non-stop mind-blowing views of fjords, forests, lush farmland and sheer cliffs, culminating with an exhilerating trip across the Roldalsfjellet mountains. The Ryfylke route extends to about 60 km from the trailhead for another of Norway’s famous hikes, Trolltungen (The Troll’s Tongue). The easter egg at the end of this gruelling hike is the opportunity to stand on the unique rock formation that is 700m above lake Ringedalsvatnet. The hike is more than a 20 km round trip with some decent ascents and descents to keep you interested and Leroy decided to give this one a miss. Feeling like we had been given a hall pass we drove from the pretty town of Odda (hiker’s hub) to Skjeggedal carpark where a shuttle took us up to the main trailhead. As on previous hikes, the terrain was steep sheets of granite rock and loose gravel pathways, although this time the challenge was more about the length of the hike rather than the difficulty. As on the other hikes, the weather was perfect and we arrived at the Tongue where there were about 50 or so people gathered around enjoying the amazing views before setting out on the long haul back. With so few people around there was no waiting to get onto the protruding rock which was a walk in the park compared to stepping onto Kjerbolten as it was about 5m wide and conveniently sloped upward, I expect it would have been a different experience again if it was sloping the other way! Over the course of the day we caught snatches of conversation in Spanish, Italian, French, Russian and Portuguese and despite the arduous hike saw many, many smiling faces.

With the Bessenger Ridge Hike still to do we filled Bob up with water and fuel, stocked the fridge and mapped a route that would take us over Sognefjellsveien, the highest mountain pass in northern Europe, a route that would also give us the chance to spot the Musk Ox in Dovrefjell National Park, one of the few places in the world where you can see one of the oldest mammals on earth. Travelling through this middle area of Norway is a bit like making your way through a maze, the complex topography of steep mountains and long, finger-like fjords demands slow progress but it would be difficult to be impatient when around every bend another spectacular vista appears, unless of course, you happen to be in a tunnel. There are over 1,100 tunnels in Norway with a total length exceeding 1000 km and I would dare to venture that nobody builds tunnels as well as the Norwegians and these are not your average tunnels where you are in and out almost before you have had time to turn your lights on. Tunnels here are kilometres long often resembling fairy grottos with their rough-hewn sides, low arched ceilings and intermittent purple-blue lights. They are not always easy to drive through as some are badly lit and narrow and there have certainly been days when it feels like we have driven through a few too many, but it was a thrill to drive through the longest road tunnel in the world, the Laerdal Tunnel, which is on the Aurlandsfjellet Scenic Route and stretches for an amazing 24.5 km and also a couple of shorter tunnels (12 km) where a blue-lit roundabout suddenly appeared. A surreal experience, almost a sense of glimpsing into a futuristic subterranean world not too unlike that of the Matrix.

Approaching the beginning of the road that would take us over the pass, Google maps suddenly announced that the road was closed?!!!! Oh, this seemed a little odd, even taking into account the increasing number of reflective snow poles lining the sides of the road, as we hadn’t yet seen any snow. We decided to continue on in case there was some kind of mistake, but just a bit further along there was a road closed sign which pretty much confirmed the road was closed and further indicated that it wouldn’t be opening for another two days. A bit disappointed, we mapped out a more circuitous route and set off doing our best to convince ourselves that things could be worse. Couldn’t they just?! Attempting to shift down a gear to continue up yet another steep hill Bob suddenly had no gears, neutral was the only option available, leaving us with no choice other than to freewheel back down the hill until we had an opportunity to roll into someone’s yard and wait for the tow truck. We were subsequently towed just 7 km to the nearest garage where the mechanic reluctantly climbed into the driver’s seat, started up Bob and declared that he wasn’t able to help us due to lack of time, lack of parts and, without doubt, lack of motivation. On the one hand, thank goodness we weren’t stuck on the top of the highest mountain in Scandinavia but on the other we were still up in the Norwegian mountains with poor Bob not going anywhere and the nearest Land Rover garage over 500km away. We set up camp at the back of the garage and considered our options. The following morning, a Saturday, we spoke to the Land Rover dealership in Trondheim who assured us that they would have a look at Bob first thing Monday morning – we just had to get him there. So we contacted the tow truck company again and arranged that they would take Bob and all of us to Trondheim on Sunday for the bargain price of 3,500 Euros!!!!! What can you do? We had contacted various Land Rover clubs asking about independent mechanics and parts suppliers which had got us nowhere, Google wasn’t coming up with anything remotely helpful and Bob wasn’t going to fix himself.

11am on Sunday morning Oddvar turned up with his red truck and some of our grievance at handing over such a large sum of money to his bosses was erased as we found ourselves in the care of one of the friendliest, helpful people you could wish to meet. By midday we were on our way, Oddvar was obviously driving, Bob was on the flatbed and the three of us were in Bob. It was certainly a different experience, perhaps a bit similar to being part of a coach trip, as Oddvar stopped at lots of lookout points and bakeries and kept us well informed as to the passing scenery. Nine hours it took to reach Trondheim and it was after 9pm by the time Bob had been deposited directly outside the workshop entrance, there was no way another vehicle was going to be entering the workshop before us unless they first pushed Bob out of the way! We said our goodbyes to Oddvar (who was faced with another 9 hour drive to get back), pushed the roof up and went to bed. We were woken early the next day when employees started arriving at 6.40 am which seemed rather early but acted as an excellent incentive to get out of bed and have breakfast whilst waiting for the workshop to open at 8am. True to their word, once Bob had been pushed inside, diagnostics were done and it was confirmed that the clutch was kaput and, on closer inspection, it turned out there was a problem with the gear box as well. The necessary parts were ordered from Denmark and five days later we were back on the road, definitely a bit poorer but blissfully unaware that the mechanic had forgotten to tighten all of the connections to the battery! It’s always the way isn’t it? You break down in the most inconvenient of locations in one of the most expensive countries in the world where Land Rover parts and decent vehicle mechanics are harder to find than mythical Trolls (more about these mystical creatures in Part II).

Bob arrived in the UK at the beginning of May and two weeks later another Land Rover made the same trip – Sydney to Southampton. We know this because a helicopter pilot from Australia popped up on Instagram with details of his intention to drive all the way to the North Cape. Unlike us, he drove from Southampton directly to Norway and then made his way north all the way to the top where he claimed to be “the only Australian registered vehicle to have travelled so far north on the planet at 71° past the Equator”. Up until we read his post our main objective whilst in Norway was to see the Northern Lights, now however it seems that Bob has something to prove and despite winter fast approaching we have our sights set firmly on Nordkopp.

September 26, 2022

Denmark

September 26, 2022/ Sarah Lock

The ferry over to Rodby, Denmark departs from the Puttgarden harbour on the German island of Fehmarn. Fehmarn is a small island off the northeast coast which is accessed by the Fehmarn Sound Road bridge which extends across the Baltic Sea to connect the island to the German mainland. Although small in size, Fehmarn appeared to be hugely popular as a German holiday spot and we were lucky to find a corner pitch at one of the large caravan sites in preparation for catching the ferry the following morning. Scandiline has a monopoly on the ferry crossings which depart every 30 minutes and run 24 hrs a day, each crossing taking around 45 minutes. As you might imagine the crossings are run with the utmost German/Danish efficiency and we were on and off the ferry with no border checks and barely time to grab a cup of tea before arriving in Denmark. Rodby is on the Danish island of Lolland, the fourth largest of Denmark’s islands within the region of Sjaelland. There are four other regions that make up the country, Midjyland, Nordyland, Syddanmark and Hovedstaden. The Danish language is derived from Old Norse and is reputed to be one of the most difficult languages to learn but when translated as Zealand, Midland, Northland, Southland and, ok a little more tricky, Capital City, quite straight-forward really. Denmark is currently in the process of building the Fehmarn Belt fixed link Tunnel which, when finished in 2029, will provide a direct link between Lolland and the German island of Fehmarn and at 18km long will be the longest road and rail tunnel in the world.

typical land bridge linking the many islands of denmark

Lolland is just 58 km long and 25 km wide and it took less than an hour to drive east onto the neighbouring islands of Falster and then Mon. We had chosen to enter Denmark by this route rather than just driving across the land border into South Jutland as we wanted to visit Mons Klint, the 70 million years old chalk cliffs found overlooking the Baltic Sea on the island of Mon. Our first night camping, just 7km from the cliffs, was in the small fishing village of Klintholm Havn and our first impressions of Denmark from an overlanding point of view were pretty damn good. Driving through the village we arrived at a large grassy area that had been set aside, free of charge, for overnighting vehicles complete with bins and public toilets close by. On the face of it this doesn’t seem like a big deal but our experience so far has rarely provided us with such accommodating facilities outside of paid camping areas. Klintholm Havn was in retrospect one of our highlights in Denmark with its pretty harbour full of small bobbing boats opposite a couple of local fish restaurants and a smattering of food stalls selling everything from coffee to ribs to nachos. Everyone was so relaxed and friendly it would have been a great place to hang around for a while.

We, however, were indirectly on our way to Copenhagen having booked a 5* hotel just around the corner from the iconic Nyhavn (New Harbour) and so were understandably keen to get there. The following morning we packed up and drove the short distance to Mons Klint before heading north. The weather was perfect and for much of the circular walk along the pebble beach and back along the wooded cliff tops we had the place to ourselves which meant that Leroy was able to swim around in the sea once more, his last salty outing some weeks back when we were still in the UK (gosh, how can a few weeks seem like such a long time ago?). This area of Denmark is quite stunning and although we did cross paths with one coach load of tourists the roads were generally quiet and there was a peaceful, sleepy atmosphere that sat well with the dramatic scenery.

Copenhagen, situated within Zealand is a couple of hours north of Mon and necessitated us going back over the land bridge to Falster before crossing another land bridge to get to Zealand. Denmark consists of the peninsula of Jutland and 1,419 islands, 443 of which have been named and just 78 are inhabited. The landscape is flat, so flat in fact that the highest point Mollehoj is just 171 meters above sea level, and extensively agricultural, however nearly 15% of the land mass is forest and there are some stunning sandy beaches which is not surprising given the country has over 7,400 km of coastline. The low population of around 6 million provides a feeling of quiet and space and our drive into Copenhagen was a walk in the park compared to the 12-lanes of hectic traffic that we had to navigate on the outskirts of both Rotterdam and Amsterdam.

We had chosen the hotel in Copenhagen mainly because they advertised a limited number of open-air parking spaces available on a first come first served basis and we arrived mid-afternoon hoping to secure one of them. I waited in the car just outside the ornate arched main entrance while Ian checked in and was relieved when he reappeared with one of the receptionists and a smile on his face indicating that, yes, we had a park. Waved forward by the pair of them, I put my foot down and started to follow them through the gap between the hotel and the adjacent brick wall when there was the most horrible crunching sound and poor Bob ground to a halt. I wasn't sure what had happened but the horror on the faces in front of me told me that it wasn't good. Cautiously opening Bob's door I stepped out and looked up in the same direction that everyone else was looking. Uh oh, Bob was just a bit too tall and the bolted-on metal Jerry cans and holders had hit the corner of the ornate copper and woodwork that made up the fancy architecture that formed the front of the hotel. It would be difficult to say who came off worse as the hotel had taken quite a hit and Bob now sported a concertinaed Front Runner roof rack, mangled Jerry cans and holders and, we later found out, quite a large dent on his head. What can you do, really? Other than reverse, change your line of direction and manoeuvre into the designated parking space. With an apologetic smile and a conversational “Whoops” we let Leroy out of the back, gatherered our shabby assortment of bits and bobs (the term luggage would suggest a more upmarket appearance that we definitely dont have) and trooped inside to check in. Unable to do much about poor Bob in the short term we focussed on exploring Copenhagen and finding some much needed ‘hygge'.

The word Hygge (Hoo-guh) was on the Oxford Dictionaries’ 2016 “word of the year” shortlist, defined as “a quality of cosiness and comfortable conviviality that engenders a feeling of contentment or well-being.” It derives from a sixteenth-century Norwegian term and is associated with relaxation, indulgence and gratitude and has long been considered a part of the Danish national character. Yep, we definitely needed some of that and fortunately the nearest wine bar was just around the corner. Since arriving in Denmark one couldn’t fail to notice how much emphasis the Danes place on organic food and beverages and the attention to detail involved in preparation and presentation which invariably resulted in something as simple as an open sandwich (smorrebrod) being turned into a work of art. Therefore, we weren’t too surprised when a couple of glasses of what looked like cloudy ginger beer but was in fact some super-duper bio-dynamic organic sparkling wine was delivered to our table along with some home-baked bread and homemade soft cheese. The most basic of meals but so delicious and our earlier misfortune was soon diminished from disaster status to minor mishap. Of course, there is a strong school of opinion that Hygge is not something that can be bought but, on this occasion, particularly given the eye-watering bill that was presented at the end of the evening, I would beg to differ.

Further exploration of Copenhagen had us joining a 3hr bike tour around this small but beautiful city. Unlike other major European cities there are only a few examples of medieval and gothic architecture but there is no shortage of great Renaissance buildings that reflect the height of Danish power and prosperity between 1588 to 1648. The brightly coloured houses stretching along the harbour front are just as pretty as you see on the postcards although the iconic Little Mermaid statue is somewhat underwhelming at just over four feet tall. The bronze sculpture, which gazes forlornly out to sea, is based on the Hans Christian Andersen fairy tale and has been in place for 100 years despite becoming a popular site for vandalism, political protests and a couple of decapitations (hers!). The sculpture was commissioned by a member of the Jacobsen family, founders of the global Carlsberg brewery empire and Carlsberg Foundation, the latter of which has been Copenhagen’s main cultural patron since 1876 donating magnificent buildings, art collections and cultural institutions worth staggering amounts to benefit the people of the city.

Amager Bakke Waste-to-Energy plant, copenhagen - design build network

A particularly cool event in Copenhagen is produced by the Amager Bakke combined power plant and ski slope which generates power by incinerating waste and emits a giant smoke ring for each 250kg of CO2 produced to give a constant reminder to the Danes of air polution. The rings are 25 meters in diameter and 5 meters high and lit by a green laser when released at night.

Denmark is one of the five most expensive countries in the world along with Norway, Iceland, Japan and Switzerland and our unfortunate run-in with the hotel was obviously going to make an unwanted dent on our already increase expenditure but we really did need to get Bob sorted. Through e-mail communications that bounced between Denmark, Australia and South Africa we were given the details for Moorlands.dk, the only Front Runner stockist in the whole of Denmark. We contacted the owner and were delighted when he confirmed that not only would he be able to supply the necessary modular roof rack parts but, best of all, could help us put the rack back together. Too much time spent on Google revealed that there was also a 4x4shop at Udsholt, right at the top of Zealand that just happened to have a couple of 10 lt jerry cans* plus the appropriate holders – an amazing find as neither of these items are readily available and we had, in fact, originally purchased them online from the US.

We checked out of the hotel a few days later and not a word was exchanged about the damage to the hotel – admittedly, once we had checked out we didn’t hang around for that particular topic to be raised but the hotel did have plenty of opportunity to approach us about it and we were grateful not to have to deal with their damages (Danish generosity No. 1). From having no fixed plans to explore Denmark we were now on a mission which initially took us up to Udsholt. Here we found a large shed surrounded by a number of 4x4s that were seemingly taking rather a long time to restore and the wife of the owner who was waiting for us to arrive – the owner who we had previously been dealing with was otherwise engaged and had arranged for his wife to sell us the jerries and holders even though we pitched up at a time they would ordinarily be closed. (Danish generosity No. 2).

peaceful aero, one of denmark’s most beautiful islands

We weren’t due to arrive at Moorlands for a couple of days and so we detoured onto what is known, and strongly promoted, as the most romantic island in Denmark. Aero is nestled in the South Funen Archipelago, accessible by ferry to one of three harbours, the largest of which is Eroskjobing which was our chosen dropping off point. There is something quite different about island life and you can feel the slower pace and relaxed atmosphere almost as soon as you step foot out of your vehicle. We arrived quite late in the afternoon and headed directly to a Park4Night spot right at the water’s edge just a couple of kilometres away from where we had disembarked from the ferry. It is not always easy to recognise an increase in concentration or focus that starts to assert itself over a sense of well-being but, no more than a few minutes after we had unloaded our gear off the top of Bob and sat down to take a break before preparing dinner, there was a wonderful sense of calim which was much needed after what had been a fraught few days.

Aero had sold itself to us regardless of what else the island might have to offer but we spent the rest of the evening and next day walking and driving around before catching the ferry from Soby to Fynshav on the island of Als from where we could reach mainland Jutland by travelling over the 682-metre-long Als Strait Bridge.

Thomas Muller was exactly the man you would want to meet when you have a smashed roof rack and very little in the way of tools or expertise to fix it. He was an avid overlander himself and had built his own impressive MAN set-up to cater for extended family trips which included two young children. We drove into his yard and could see straightaway all the replacement parts laid out on the ground waiting for us and after brief introductions Thomas was all over it. It was quite tiring watching him as he raced around the vehicle, up and down the ladder, dismantling nearly all of our roof top system. Of course we pitched in but it would be hard to say whether we were help or hindrance as he so clearly knew what he was doing and how he wanted it done. In all, it took about 6 hours over the course of two days to restore Bob to his former glory and it would be difficult to get anywhere near to thanking Thomas enough for his help. As if he hadn’t done enough, we were also invited to camp overnight on his meadow next to a forest. (Danish generosity No. 3).

the main roads are quiet, the rest of the road network looks like this!

Whilst all of this was going on Ian, out of the blue, suddenly decided that we should leave Europe and re-enter using a different passport in order to get around the 90-day Schengen ruling that now applies to British citizens since their departure from the EU. Under the terms of Schengen, non-EEA nationals cannot spend more than a total of 90 days within a total period of 180 days without a visa. Furthermore, once your quota of 90 days has been used up you cannot return to Schengen until 90 more days have passed. Up until this point, every time the subject had been raised, Ian had been reluctant to discuss or even contemplate doing anything about it, but a chance meeting with a couple of Brits by the meat counter in an Aero supermarket revealed some sorry tales of fellow travellers experiencing difficulties passing through EU borders having over-stayed their allocated 90 days.

We had already been in Europe for over 60 days and as we intended to continue north into Norway it did make sense to have a re-set on our entry stamps. Our time with Thomas meant that we were close to Billund which has an international airport and so Ian flew back to Stanstead on his British passport, sat around for about 7 hours and then flew back on his Australian passport. I departed a couple of days later using my Australian passport with a slightly more relaxed approach whereby I flew into Manchester and spent a few days in Wales with family before returning on my British passport. We now had a fresh 90 days before we needed to re-address this annoying downside of no longer belonging to the EU. For once, Leroy was not an added complication as he was eligible for an EU pet passport which just required a visit to a local vets who updated his rabies jab and gave him some tapeworm tabs (a requirement of entry into Norway, the next country on our list).

Whilst all the toing and froing had been going on, one or both of us had been staying at an Airbnb just 30 minutes away from Billund at Norre Snede. The guesthouse was in the grounds of the main house set amongst extensive fields and forests and turned out to be just perfect for our needs. Our hosts Charlotte and another Thomas couldn’t have been more friendly and on my return from the UK I was delighted to find that Thomas had replaced Bob’s broken windscreen washer jet which had been snapped off some time ago (due to some sloppy unloading off the roof) and hadn’t been replaced due to the horrible fiddly job that needed to be done to sort it out. (Danish generosity No. 4)

With Bob as good as new and a 90-day stay stretching out in front of us, we headed over to the west coast and into Thy National Park, the largest wilderness in Denmark. The area has only been open to the public since 2008 and is a vast expanse of sandy beaches, dunes, lakes and limestone cliffs, together with an expansive network of hiking and cycling trails and no camping restrictions. We parked in what felt like the middle of nowhere, with no one around except for some wild horses just next to us. Nearly at the northernmost tip of Denmark, we continued up to Grenen, a long sandy spit which denotes the end of the country and marks a junction between the Skagerrak (North Sea) and the Kattegat (Baltic Sea). The collision of the two seas is one of those uncommon natural wonders that has created a long sandbar which you can walk along right up to the point where it disappears underneath the opposing tides. Not something we will forget in a hurry, likewise all of the generosity extended to us during our visit.

From the top of Denmark it is a short drive to Hirtshals from where the ferry over to Norway departs. A country that neither of us has been to before which is exciting as we continue to head north.

*Most jerry cans that we came across for overlanding were 20lt and too high and heavy to store on the roof rack. The smaller 10lt ones are just perfect for our set up and carry our cooking fuel.

aroundtheworldin-definitely

aroundtheworldin-definitely

Scandinavia/Baltics Blogs

aroundtheworldin-definitely

The Baltic States

Finland, Sweden & Orca

Norway Part II

Norway Part I

Denmark

aroundtheworldin-definitely