Rainy Road to Stockholm

After several days of indecision I finally settled on a plan. It began with an overnight train to Trondheim, and finished with me riding triumphantly into Stockholm approximately two weeks later. Although I would have liked to see more of Norway’s stunning coastline, its fragmented nature means many tunnels and ferries to negotiate, and hence more careful route planning. All of this felt a bit complicated and daunting, so I opted for simplicity, and what I hoped was an easier route.

Before darkness fell I was treated to the breathtaking beauty of the Bergen-Oslo train, which is considered one of the most spectacular train journeys in the world. Trapped behind glass, I felt somewhat envious of my Californian friends who were now riding this popular route through the mountains. While I missed the fresh air and leisurely pace, I still enjoyed views of deep gorges and towering waterfalls, tundra-like wilderness of the high alpine plateaus, and most impressively, the Hardangerjokulen glacier. However I remain unenlightened about the countryside north of Oslo, as I was lucky enough to drift off to sleep as we sped on through the night. Awakening as the train slowly approached Trondheim, I had finally reached the most northerly point of my journey. At a latitude of 64 degrees North, the Arctic Circle was not that far away, and it seemed an incredible distance from where I started in Amsterdam.

Many people told me how beautiful Trondheim is, but at 7 o’clock on a Saturday morning this lively university town was deathly quiet. So quiet in fact, that I changed into my riding gear in the middle of a city park without anyone noticing. I rode out of the city in the crisp morning air, slowly making my way up into the hills which form the spine of Norway. I only spoke to two Norwegians about my intended route to Stockholm. The first, a very warm and bubbly woman looked vaguely disappointed and said, ‘Oh, I think that would be rather boring, actually’. The second, a rather handsome chap I met on the train was also quick to respond ‘Ah, I did the same trip many years ago – it’s a nice ride!’ So it just goes to show that any advice should be taken with a healthy dose of skepticism and a large grain of salt! For the most part I gave up asking people about the road ahead, and adopted a more fatalistic approach – what will be, will be.


My last days in Norway were a mix of agricultural land with lots of sheep and dairy cows, red cottages with turf-covered roofs and lakes renowned for their abundant fish, set amongst pine-clad hills. Finally I passed into alpine country, barren and windswept, with scrubby vegetation and hollows supporting small forests of stunted trees. Mere hours before crossing the Swedish border, I startled a family of reindeer. They quickly scattered amongst the trees and I only caught a glimpse of the adults with their great antlers. Instead of dashing for cover, the little one ran ahead of me, bouncing his little white tail. I couldn’t help but laugh at its ungainly gait – it seemed to be all legs as it clip-clopped up the road. Finally it had the sense to run and hide in the woods, at once escaping my watchful gaze. I was overjoyed at this brief encounter and it made up for what was otherwise a cold, wet and miserable day.

There were many cold, wet days to follow and I soon became thoroughly sodden and simultaneously damp in spirits. Everything started to smell, my sleeping bag was rapidly going mouldy, and I packed my tent up in the rain for days on end. After a particularly gruelling day in the woods, I was pleasantly surprised to find a lovely lakeside campsite. In the late afternoon light the lake looked like velvet, with the early Autumn colours reflecting beautifully in its waters. I was looking forward to a hot shower with relish, so you can imagine the disappointment when I put my one and only coin in the slot and nothing happened. My reaction was complete hysteria, and I bawled my eyes out for several long minutes. It’s amazing how much little things can upset you when you’re tired, cold, and hungry. My saviours that evening were a friendly German family who shared a huge tub of delicious fresh blueberries with me. Their young son must be one of the most affectionate children I’ve ever met. As way of introduction he gave me a big hug and walked his fluffy wolf all over me. At maybe six years old I was impressed that this warmth and affection had not yet been stamped out of him, and only wish that I could be so kind and loving toward complete strangers.

I finally emerged from the woods and their seemingly endless monotony, to arrive the following evening in Mora, on the shores of Lake Siljan. This small town plays host to Sweden’s largest and most beloved national sporting event – the Vasaloppet - a 90km cross-country ski race which attracts more than 40,000 participants each year. Not far from here there is an amazing concert venue called Dalhalla. An abandoned limestone quarry that’s been converted into a stage, it forms a wonderful ‘natural’ amphitheatre, with a jewel-like turquoise lake at its centre. On a magically clear evening I watched a performance of Verdi’s Aida beneath the stars. The acoustics are unbelievable and the costumes and choreography were beautiful to watch. Unfortunately I’d had a really long day on the bike and kept falling asleep during the final act.

The last two weeks of riding were really tough. It rained every single day between Trondheim and Stockholm and I struggled to maintain enthusiasm. My moods oscillated between utter frustration and despair, and an immense sense of excitement about approaching the end of my journey. All I could think about was reaching Stockholm and putting my bike aside for a while. But with only one day to go, I became hugely nostalgic and wanted to savour every last moment. I even went for an early morning ride so I could linger over breakfast in the grounds of a beautiful castle. Suddenly I realised I was going to miss this way of life. The daily rhythms of life on the road had become so familiar over the past two and a half months. What would I do with myself now? And more importantly, how often do you get to eat breakfast in the shadow of a 16th century castle?

After 11 weeks of riding and 4400km under my belt I rode into Stockholm with a big grin on my face. Once the initial euphoria wore off I realised that finishing something so hard and mentally tiring is another challenge in itself. And now, more than two weeks later I'm still trying to deal with the anti-climax. I’ve had a wonderful time staying with friends in Stockholm, Amsterdam and London, enjoying dinner parties, movies, orienteering, kayaking and long walks. Not only that, but equally enjoying all those ‘normal’ day-to-day activities such as shopping, cleaning, cooking and laundry. But I must admit to feeling a little lost, and surprisingly exhausted. I need another purpose, a new goal. I’m not sure yet what it’ll be, but my journey over the past three months has given me the confidence to embark upon the next adventure, knowing that I can achieve whatever I set my heart upon.

Bike Norway

A surprise awaited me at the Norwegian border. Seven young German cyclists had stopped there for lunch - the first other young people I'd seen travelling by bike. With school behind them and a year of community service ahead, they were enjoying a two week ride from Goteborg to Oslo, before returning to their hometown of Kiel. Having kindly invited me to join them for a little way, we ended up riding all the way to Oslo together. What an amazing bunch of people! I was mightily impressed by their gutsiness - especially the two girls who had never been cycle touring before. I was also rather embarassed that I couldn't keep up with the cracking pace they set. Riding in a bunch is a very different experience. It felt awesome when we were all cruising along together - a sleek line of eight cyclists moving like a well-oiled machine. But I found it extremely hard trying to keep up with someone else's pace, and was continually dropping off the back on the uphills. We rode a hilly 95km that day at over 21km/hr - my hardest day yet!

After saying our goodbyes I set out to explore Oslo by foot. The city is a lot more multicultural than I was expecting, and apparently has the highest cost of living of any city in the world. I don't know how the welfare system works, but there seem to be a lot of people falling through the cracks. Beggars and real down-and-out types mingle with the wealthy tourist hordes, and a beer and pizza will set you back about $50. Three rest days certainly put a big hole in my budget.

Accommodation was scarce when I arrived. After several hours fruitlessly riding all over the city only to find hostels either fully booked or closed down, I eventually took a cabin on the MS Innvik - a ship moored in Oslo harbour. From the deck I ate my breakfast while watching workmen building a beautiful new opera house on a nearby peninsular. I spent a lovely day wandering the hills above the city with a friendly Canadian girl, and had a beautiful picnic dinner on the grassy walls of an old fortress while listening to live music down by the quay.

I was a big fan of Thor Heyerdahl as a kid, and the popular account of his journey across the pacific 'The Kon-Tiki Expedition' was the first adventure book I ever read. It left a lasting impression and I'm particularly grateful to Dad for introducing me to his story, inspiring me to have adventures of my own. For those who haven't heard of him, Heyerdahl was a famous Norwegian scientist, adventurer and environmentalist. There is a museum dedicated to his voyages and studies of pacific archaeology and cultural history, with both the Kon-Tiki raft and reed boat Ra II on display. The latter he sailed across the Atlantic in an epic trip of 57 days, demonstrating that Old World sailors could have influenced the pre-Colombian civilisations of Central America.

For a week I followed the coast south of Oslo. Norwegians flock to this area during the summer months, being the warmest, sunniest part of the country. Tiny seaside villages overflow with tourists, markets and lively harbourside scenes. The rugged rocky coastlines reminded me a little of Tasmania, with the water probably being a similar temperature.

After weeks travelling alone with hardly another cyclist in sight, my time in Norway suddenly became very social. For a country which is so mountainous and has thousands of un-bike-friendly tunnels, there are a surprising number of cycle tourers. Ferries are a natural meeting point, and I kept bumping into the same people which was fun. For almost a week I travelled with an American couple, Bill and Aimee, who were great buddies to hang out with. Extremely warm and welcoming, we shared some good laughs. Our first day together was a marathon 133km - my longest day in the saddle ever! Several Dutch families shared meals with me, including a lovely couple, Jann and Trudy. It turns out we had shadowed each other all the way from Amsterdam. At 59 and 56 respectively, I was truly inspired by their energy and lust for life, and their willingness to be flexible and spontaneous. One of the things I've really missed about travelling alone is sharing meals with other people, so it was nice to eat sociably for a change.


The coast was very beautiful, but I decided it was time to see a little bit of the interior, so I headed into the mountains for a few days. The road wound its way over 1000m passes which are home to winter ski resorts. Alpine plateaus and craggy peaks dominate the landscape, with flowering heather and placid lakes completing the picture. Light rain lent an atmostpheric beauty to the mist-clad hills, and at times it was so cold I was half-expecting it to start snowing. The final 800m descent followed a spectacular road built for the hydro-electric scheme, culminating with 27 hairpin bends and a 1.1km long tunnel. I emerged from the tunnel to the warm, moist air of the valley below and magnificent views of the Lysefjord.

My campsite at the head of the fjord must be one of the most picturesque locations imaginable. The lush green valley ends abruptly with the clear blue waters of the fjord, which is wedged between sheer cliffs soaring 1000m into the sky. While eating my dinner I watched awestruck as half a dozen basejumpers leapt off the massive walls of Kjerag Mountain. The next day I got a lift back up the mountain with a busload of basejumpers and hiked to the launching point above the fjord. This time my close proximity meant that I could hear the roar as they gained velocity during freefall, and clearly see their shutes open as they skillfully controlled their landing on the one small grassy piece of land at the bottom of the fjord. Peering over the edge was slightly intoxicating, and for the first time in my life I was actually tempted by the thrill of it. 12-15 seconds of pure adrenalin! What an extraordinary location. A ferry trip through the fjord later that afternoon spotting seals and golden eagles completed a fabulous day.

Norway reminds me a little of Nepal, or how I imagine Nepal would be with wealth, development, and a lot fewer people. A land of many mountains, lush valleys, towering waterfalls and tiny cottages perched improbably on the steep mountainsides. Except that nowhere here is really inaccessible. The road infrastructure is absolutely mind-boggling. I've seen more incredible bridges in the last three weeks than I have in the rest of my life put together. And if it's too difficult to build a road on the side of a mountain, then there's undoubtedly a tunnel right through it. No expenses spared.

With more ferries, bridges and mountains I made my way up the west coast to Bergen, and arrived feeling pretty tired. My luck held for a good two months, but I'm now suffering from a head cold and feeling a bit miserable. The hostel where I'm staying sleeps over 60 people in one massive room, with triple decker bunks and mattresses all over the floor. It's absolute chaos, with only 2 showers and 3 toilets, one of which is currently blocked. It feels like I'm living in a refugee camp. The only redeeming features are that it's very cheap - a real rarity in Norway - and they serve free waffles on Monday and Thursday nights!

Apart from spreading my germs around in dormitories, movie theatres and internet cafes, I have no idea yet where I'll be for the next few weeks. Norway is a beautiful country and I feel like I could stay here exploring for much longer. But I'm also starting to feel a bit weary and looking forward to doing something other than cycling. I've ridden 3400km and my legs feel really strong. I'm much fitter than when I started, but there's a cumulative effect that is slowly catching up with me, and I seem to need more rest days than I did to begin with. Hopefully I'll come up with a plan tomorrow!