Cycling to the Arctic: Day 4

Dalsoyra to Krokane, near Floro 25 kms by bike -- maybe 50 by sea

Sorry to be so vague about distance: it's easy enough to measure what I ride, but very hard to estimate what's covered by boat. There are more 30 unavoidable ferries on this trip, and I've now taken an editorial decision not to bother subtracting ferry trips from my distance totals when they just involve a few free-of-charge kilometres crossing a fjord or from island to island. I will declare any longer trips by express boat -- even those, like today, taken inadvertently. After all, I'm supposed to cycling to Nordkapp, not going on a cruise.

Today's ride was, I have to say, one of the wettest I have ever persisted in. Wetter even than my ride into Cologne last year, which I won't forget for a while. It was raining when I went to sleep last night, it was raining hard this morning when I packed away a soggy bundle of soaking wet nylon formerly known as my tent, it was still raining hard this evening when I put it up again, and it rained cold and hard all day in between.

Soaking wet and untidy tent by the fjord. Ospreys on the islet opposite just didn't care

The ride from my camping spot south of Dalsoyra to Rutledal began along an undulating road hugging the shoreline before starting to climb steadily. Having not done my homework I wasn't expecting this, and had just stopped to check my route when two young female cyclists from Switzerland pulled in to find out why I wasn't moving. I could equally well have been having a rest, but thankfully I wasn't and could truthfully defend Scotland's honour, explaining I wasn't just slacking. They were the first touring cyclists I'd seen since leaving Bergen and both are following EuroVelo 1, one to Trondheim and the other, like me, going all the way to Nordkapp, and expecting to be there around the same time -- though I bet she's days ahead in the end. "See you on the next ferry," she said, and off they went. I saw them in the distance about 45 minutes later, but arrived to see the ferry pulling out, which was shame, because if I'd been on board, they'd have known what they were doing and saved me a lot of bother. As it was, as the route rose, spectacular waterfalls came into view. Those to the left of me across the valley must have been plunging down 1000 ft cliffs, while those to the right were dwarves by comparison but impressive nonetheless:

Waterfall by the roadside

I tell myself that if I hadn't stopped to take that picture, I'd have caught the ferry. From here on the road continued to climb to 780 ft before dropping back down to sea level in a descent which would have been much more enjoyable with some means of arrest more effective in the wet than Claud's old-fashioned rim brakes.

It turns out that the state-run ferry from Rutledal makes two stops on its short journey over Sognefjord, and I should have got off at the second to continue my journey on EuroVelo 1. Unfortunately I got off at the first, stupidly insisting to the ferryman that was indeed my intent when he obviously realised I was making a mistake. I spent two and a quarter hours on the deserted quay at Krakhella for my pains. My only escape from there was to take the express boat to Floro, in the process saving me a ride of about 30 kilometres. I tried not to feel bad about that while warming up and drying off in the vessel's comfortable saloon, simultaneously charging my phone, laptop and bike lights from the numerous available sockets. However, on arrival in Floro I got my comeuppance because the next official ferry hop on the EuroVelo 1 doesn't run on Sundays, and the only alternative, the next day indeed being a Sunday, would be another express boat that anyway would not leave until 7.15 pm. Therefore I decided it was time to leave the coast for a day and head east to connect with the EuroVelo 1's alternative inland route. Soaked to the skin I headed out of Floro to look for a wild camping spot by the fjord when my eye was caught by an official campsite right by the road. I popped in to enquire the price (£24, not far short of the cost of my hostel in Bergen) and was about to pop right out again when the chap on the desk mentioned the magic words, "free driers". Free washing machines and showers too. The day ended much happier. Tomorrow the forecast is that the sun will be shining, and there'll be a light south-westerly at my back.