Day 33, Skaidi to North Portal, Nordkapp Tunnel (102 kms)

A hard but good day's ride, up and over the plateau above the Goahtemourjohka River valley, then down to Olderfjord where I was pleased to say farewell to the busy E6 highway, which I seem to have been following for far too long. Olderfjord has two shops, but both were closed, it being Sunday, as was the local garage. With 70 kms ahead of me where I knew there was no chance of getting provisions, coupled with the tragic and accidental loss of a jar of peanut butter earlier in the day, this was a bit of a blow, but the Olderfjord Hotel had a cafe open feeding coach trippers and motorcyclists and I was able snatch a hot dog and buy a couple of Snickers bars and a muffin to stuff in my panniers. I was just leaving when I was hailed by David, the German cyclist who'd kindly stopped and offered to help when my brake cable broke back in the Lofotens.

Heading up the coast from Olderfjord was I was riding constantly into a strong, chilly headwind, which did ease off and warm up as the day wore on. This is a much more desolate coastline than any I'd encountered before in Norway; a few stunted trees, sparse semi-Tundra style vegetation, isolated houses often with snowmobiles parked at the ends of their access roads awaiting the imminent return of winter. As in Scotland, August here is an autumn month. Reindeer, semi-domesticated, many with bells, are a common sight now, trotting down the road towards one.

The end of the day brought me to the mouth of the dreaded Nordkapp Tunnel – seven kms long, descending to 230 metres below sea level. I cannot say I enjoyed the experience of cycling through it. Essentially, it involves a three km downward 9 percent descent, followed by a level section of under a kilometre, then a three km 9 percent climb back to daylight, all with traffic thundering past at what seemed to me to be motorway speed, though I expect it wasn't, and ventilation fans in the ceiling shaped like aircraft engines and making almost as much noise. The descent was very cold, despite my having put on an extra jacket, and I was shivering by the time I had to start pedalling again. A warning sign at the entrance, “fog in tunnel”, added to my trepidation, but thankfully there didn't seem to be any.

Half way up the 9 per cent climb out I lost my nerve trying to keep the bike straight and steady, and gave up and pushed it up the narrow, wet and slippery sidewalk. Judging by the tyremarks and footprints thereon, plenty of others had taken the same decision before me.

Immediately out of the tunnel, I found a wonderful wild-camping spot on the cliffs, which I shared with 67-year-old Walter from Bonn, just returning from Nordkapp and heading home through Sweden.

I have about 30 miles to go, so all being well, the Ven Claud should reach the northmost point of Europe accessible by wheel sometime tomorrow.

The old bike and my tent on the cliffs of Mageryoya Island, the Nordkapp Tunnel now behind us