Days 17 & 18, Isle of Elvalandet to Salhus (200 km)

One can't overstate how beautiful this country is – but I guess there's a limit to how often one can say it. Fjord Norway is stunning, but I cannot do it justice by saying so again and again. Day 17 began on busy roads, got quieter, but was a hard 93 kms, ending in a wild camp on the uncultivated edge of a hayfield: the most peaceful night I've had so far, and notwithstanding the fact that a new type of warning sign has started to make an appearance at the roadside – beware of the moose (or elg, as the Norwegians have it):

Day 18 involved a run to the quay at Holm to get the next ferry as the EV1 route continues to hop from island to peninsular to island again. On Norwegian car ferries, cyclists get priority – we freewheel down to the front of the queue and board first so we are out of the way when cars, motorhomes and big lorries start rolling onto the vehicle deck. Today it felt almost embarrassing, though. I rolled past an enormous queue of vehicles full of people looking very fed up, to find the ferry at the loading ramp, but not loading. Turns out this particular ferry has been converted to electricity, and unlike its diesel counterparts that can run continuously for days on a single bunkering, it has to be plugged in every now and again to a white box on the quay the size of a grain silo, marked “Ferry Charger”. When eventually it was deemed full enough, off we went on our 20-minute crossing, and on reaching the other side at Vennesund I realised it was lunchtime and it was a distance to the next town. On Vennesund quay is a large white wooden building marked “Gina's Cuisina”, so in I went. First surprise: 25 per cent of the interior is given over to the display of wholesale quantities of Asian foods – noodles, sauces, dumplings – which are not on the menu. I still can't work this out. Walk in a bit further into a traditional Norwegian restaurant space and there's a sign saying “please order at the counter”. On the counter is a tray of doughnuts (which I know will be filled with buttercream) and a pile of waffles. Out bounces Gina through the swing door to the kitchen in a chef's hat with yet another waffle, which she adds to the pile. She asks me what I'd like, I ask what she's got, and with a theatrical sweep she indicates... the tray of doughnuts and the pile of waffles. This, it seems, is it. I ask more in hope that expectation if there's a possibility of a sandwich. “Would you like me to make you one?” Gina asks in perfect English, which is not surprising because I think that's what she is. I say yes please, and barely have I extracted my coffee from the coffee machine when she re-appears with the most delicious sandwich I've had for ages – cheese and ham with iceberg lettuce, red peppers, and all the right sauces... all folded inside a waffle. Then as I sit and enjoy it, strings of Norwegians start to come in, point to a waffle, and are handed one together with a block of Norwegian brown “cheese” (previously discussed) and a cheese-parer. This seems to be the standard lunchtime fare at Gina's. I must say her cheeriness made my day. I wanted to ask about the Asian food corner, though clearly Asian food is the culinary tradition in her family.

After that, a ride with fewer ups and downs than I've faced of late brought me to Mossheim Camping on the outskirts of Bronnoysund. Campsites are remarkably expensive in Norway – every paid-for camping night I've had here has cost more than a hostel bed. But having wildcamped for three nights, and with the prospect of several more wildcamps in the next few days, I felt I owed it to my fellow members of the human race to book in, have a shower, and wash my clothes in hot water.