Breidvika

After the museum, we needed to drive back over Lofoten's major islands, to the mainland ferry. First we headed back to Leknes in order to leave the E10 in favour of the more scenic route 815 along the southern shore of Vestvågøya, our third use of this particular cross roads.

The weather was starting to turn greyer. We stopped to get a series of pictures for a panorama; that involved clambering on rocks, made somewhat treacherous by the abundant mosses and lichens, which seem to flourish here. However our climbing was deemed by Nina to be “impressive”.

As we got back into the car the weather had settled as cloudy with sporadic drizzle. At the end of 815 we crossed the bridge to the small island of Gimsøya, rejoining the E10. Very quickly we were back on to the much larger island of Austvågøy.

Now retracing our steps toward the northern tip of the island, the rainy weather providing a sharp contrast to the experience of driving this road the first time; he scenery was still beautiful though. In the gentler light the shimmering brilliance that shone from the water was replaced by crisp reflections; the black rock of the peaks contrasted against the off-white sky reflected in the depths of the fjords.

As we went we often took pictures of interesting features or buildings without stopping, nor even slowing down. Chris would occasionally shout advice forward or back (depending on who had the camera and which seats we were currently occupying) as to how he thought the camera should be set up, whether it was necessary to lower the window and so on. It had the feel of rally co-driving.

This led to our inventing a new motor sport; drive by tourism. The rules are simple, the race would be a time-trial taking place over a popular tourist route, however a 10 second time penalty would apply for missed photo-opportunity, with bonus points for good pictures (as determined by a panel of judges). This led to Chris in the back seat shouting the most bizarre series of instructions “ISO 100, window down, aperture open... Wait for it... Shutter, shutter, shutter! Now drive!”.

Soon we had retraced our route back to Fiskebøl (landing point for the Melbu ferry) and had come to the long series of tunnels that would take us first back to the island of Hinnøya. First they carried us across to the eastern 'lobe' of Austvågøy, then through the mountains to the ferry port at Lodingen, from whence we could take a ferry back to the Norwegian main land.

There were many Kilometres of tunnels, the longest was over 6Km on its own. Often we would find ourselves descending or ascending slopes whilst within the tunnels this, when combined with the layout of the lights on the roof of the tunnel, this gave an odd sense of driving around the inside of giant a ring (like a space wheel). As the tunnels emerged onto narrow passes amongst the mist-cloaked peaks, imagination tended towards thoughts of Tolken’s Moria and fantasy realms.

When we reached the ferry quay at Lødingen there was a long wait for the ferry, sat in the car out of the rain its probably fair to say that Chris became quite bored. Once aboard we once again tucked into the same sausage and potato dinner we had enjoyed on the way out. Towards the end of the crossing we stood out on the deck, just to check that the weather was still cold and wet (rest assured, it was).

As we headed off back along the rainy road I was struck by the now well-worn appearance of our map, with its annotations and creases. It seemed somehow imbued with memories of planning around cafe’ tables, and brainstorming routes over breakfast; I realised that I was rather fond of our silly little road atlas.

From the ferry landing at Bognes we set off once again down the Arctic higway (E6), this time in low visibility. Although visually less appealing, the experience of charging between the great mounds of ploughed snow under a white sky evoked much more of what one expects the Arctic to be like. The mind could more easily imagine this place being home to reindeer, moose and other creatures at home in tundra and Polar Regions. The light rain, combined with the spring thawing created interesting cascades of water between those more stubborn patches of snow that still clung to the rocks, obstinately refusing to acknowledge the inevitable onset of summer.

As we made our way south we found ourselves giggling at peculiar, and peculiarly familiar place names. One small settlement (I now avoid city, town, village and hamlet because any means I have for reckoning the magnitude of a place on that scale simply doesn’t work here) was named “Sommarset” (thinking of Summerset, in case you don’t see it). Another, we were assured had a name that translated to “Tickle-Duck”.

As we edged along the road cut into cliff sides I found myself peering down, through gaps in the blanket of clouds, now below us, at the deep blue of the water in the lakes; visible only upon the whim of the swirling clouds.

Our final stop before Bodø was at a fuel station in Fauske. It was at this point that I realised that my knee was quite painful. Not quite so painful as the irony though: we picked this itinerary because of Chris’s unfortunate knee issues on recent cycling adventures, now I was having a similar problem, apparently from too much sitting down.

As we approached Bodø it was interesting to see railways again; Norway’s railways don’t extend north of Bodø. Seeing them again triggered the thought that their absence had seemed a bit peculiar.

Alongside the solitary road into town many fast-flowing streams, poured down the characterful rocks, passing under the roadway its self. As we approached Bodø ‘s “city” centre only hints of the peaks on the far side of the valley were evident. Peering through the mist I saw instead ethereal shapes, rendered in shifting patterns of greys, the clouds themselves seeming to coil upwards to suggest extra peaks, whilst hiding true ones.

We stayed the night at Nina’s house, where we ordered pizza; after our long journey though we were soon ready for sleep.Read more