Sweden.... flat and boring?? Think again.

Everyone says Sweden is flat and boring. No, really they do. Everyone. Well we just had to go and see for ourselves. One thing we did notice very quickly was how CHEAP Sweden is - when compared to Norway. Petrol in Norway was between £1.60 and £1.80 a litre. In Sweden it's £1.45. Food in the supermarkets in Norway was at least one and a half, if not twice, as expensive as the UK. In Sweden it's only a little more than the UK.

And after nearly two weeks of fjords and twisty roads it was almost exciting to be on reasonably straight road again. And I wouldn't say it was boring, not when you've reindeer to look out for.

There should be photos of reindeer now but we only actually saw them twice and didn't get the camera out on either occasion. Tracy did manage to buy part of one to sit on...

Near Kiruna we went to 'The Ice Hotel'. The world's first, it's been around for 20 years although, of course, it's different ice every year. They harvest the ice in the winter, store it in a big fridge, cut it and create the hotel every October. Come April they just let it melt.

  

Blocks of ice in a -5C warehouse

Cutting machine

   

  

Frozen time

No comment

They even had a motorcycle in ice!

  

South to Jokkmokk (great name isn't it) and the wonderfully informative Sami Museum where we learnt everything we would ever need to know about the Sami people and reindeer.

And then on to the coast and the Baltic Sea. We hit the coast at Lulea and visited 'Gammelstad' (once we could find it – but that's another story). Unesco World Heritage listed, this place was the centre of Northern Sweden in the Middle Ages. (I have to tell my students that they didn't call it the Middle Ages during the Middle Ages. They just called it 'now'.)

Incidentally, we stayed in a hostel in Lulea. £50 a night and it looked like this, just in case you were interested in what a Scandinavian hostel looks like.

 

Room cost £50

Well stocked kitchen - even had a TV!

Just us and a dozen Estonian labourers. Tracy turned the microwave on and the TV came on. It was the first time we'd seen a TV in our whole trip, just over a month. It was quite weird really to be travelling in western Europe but not to see TV for so long. In other parts of the world a TV comes as obligatory in every hotel/motel/hospedaje. Anyway, back to Gammlstad.

The stone church (1492), 424 wooden houses and six church stables remain. This is an authentic Scandinavian church village. Due to the weather, climate and terrain it was hard for peasants in outlying areas to attend church every week so they built a village which would accommodate churchgoers. People came to the village and stayed in the houses over the weekend. On Mondays they went back to their villages (a medium sized medieval Swedish village was said to be home to maybe 60 souls) and the red houses in Gammelstad remained empty until Friday.

 

A photo of a photo but the best way to see what I mean

The other interesting thing about this place was that it used to be on the coast. Now it isn't. This is due to post-glacial uplift. 20,000 years ago – our last ice age – Britain was under 500 metres of ice. This part of Scandinavia was under 3,000 metres. That weight of ice depressed the earth. By the time the ice finally vanished, 10,000 years ago, the crust had already risen 500 metres back towards its original elevation and it's still rising. At first the uplift was fast but now it has slowed to about 8mm a year. Gammelstad is now 10 metres higher than it was 1,000 years ago. And in 2,000 years a land bridge may well have formed across the Baltic to Finland.

Oh and I nearly forgot. We walked round the place at 10 am. No problem, no one else around. But as we were leaving a few police and security started turning up. The Swedish King and Queen were due at 2 pm. We couldn't quite believe the LACK of security. In the UK if the Queen visits somewhere bins are taken away, manhole covers are sealed days beforehand.

Further south this has created what is know as Hoga Kusten, 'The High Coast'. Apparently the world's highest shoreline at 286 metres above sea level. We went to take a look.

It certainly was strange to be stood on top of a 300 metre hill and realise that we were in fact stood on what was a small island 10,000 years ago. 8 mm a year might not sound much but it equates to nearly 40 cm in my lifetime. Pretty fast geologically speaking.

 

That small island only 'appeared' a thousand years ago.

Tracy contemplating the wonder that is Geology.

Oh, and we crossed the Arctic circle.

 

I hadn't been aware that the cirlce actually moves. Over a 40,000 year period it moves 180KM (I think) Something like that anyway.

South a bit more took us on nice undulating (not flat and boring) roads to Umea.

Uninteresting in itself we checked in to a rather expensive campsite which was little more than a car park next to the coast. The evening was nice and warm but clouds were brewing and it looked like it was going to rain....

 

I don't like waking up in a tent to the sound of rain. It started at 6 a.m. And didn't look like it was going to stop. Tracy's theory is, “If you wake up and it's raining, go back to sleep until it isn't.” I tried but it just got heavier.

At 9 am there was a knock on the tent (if such a thing is possible). Alfio, the Italian campsite owner who also ran the bakery next door was inviting us into his bakery for breakfast!

Alfio gave us bread and coffee and showed us around his bakery. He'd moved from Sicily to Sweden in 1969 and told us his life story in his warm, dry kitchenette as it continued to rain outside. He wouldn't let us go until it had nearly stopped, continually checking the weather updates on his phone. It was a wonderfully kind gesture of his, to look after two wet campers on a cold rainy Saturday morning. We left Umea at midday, dry and fed and happy, it could have been so different.

Just north of Stockholm we stopped at Gamla Upsalla. Large burial mounds mark the graves of....well, nobody knows. Sixth century cremated remains have been found in the middle of the mounds but beyond that it's all conjecture. Pre-Viking kings? Local chieftains? Or perhaps (suggested by a 17^th century professor) bizarrely the ancient 

sunken city of Atlantis???

 

The signs said "In order to preserve the mounds please don't walk on the paths" so Tracy is trying to walk down the mound without using the path. Harder than it sounds.

And so we wended our way down to Stockholm. Sweden isn't flat or boring. Granted it isn't as twisty and mountainous as Norway but then again it isn't as rainy or expensive as Norway. It might not make my list of top ten countries to visit but there's something there if you take a look. I'd never have thought we'd have been to the world's highest coastline and I didn't even know what a Swedish church village was a week ago. And that, my friend, is what travelling should be about.

The Lofoten Islands

Where do you start a trip? Where better than at A. Or A (with a very small O above the A) to be more precise. Pronounced half way between Ah! and Oh, A lies at the southern tip of the wonderful Lofoten Islands. At 68 degrees north, the Lofoten Islands sit above the Arctic circle but don't let that put you off taking your favourite two wheeled machine for a spin around its twisty narrow lanes. Thanks to the Gulf Stream the weather on the Lofoten Islands is comparable to Northern Scotland. Average summer temperatures sit around 12 degrees although, when the sun is out, it can be much warmer. As I rode south towards A my winter gloves were packed away in my pannier and the warn Arctic sun was beating down on both of us.

A is a preserved fishing village, a living testament to the life blood of these islands: fish – cod to be precise. Each spring millions of tonnes of cod are caught in the surrounding waters and dried on racks on land. The main part of the fish is sold across Norway and Europe and the dried heads are sent off to Nigeria where they are made into soup.

 

'A'

 

Drying cod

We had an interesting walk around the small village and then out onto the cliffs beyond A where we could see the forty or so miles across to mainland Norway. Returning to the bike we set off up the E10 to see what the Lofoten Islands had in store.

 

The view beyond'A'

Our aim was only to go about fifty miles that afternoon but even that was optimistic as every bend in the road revealed new views and we kept stopping in lay-bys to just drink in the scenery. Off to our left razor sharp dark mountains towered over us, sweeping down to green pastures with cattle and sheep. Across the road to the right, green turned to grey and rusty red as the dark rocks were covered in seaweed which almost glowed in the bright mid afternoon sun. The icy, clear blue water looked inviting but I kept my focus on the tarmac and followed its snake like route along the coast.

 

 

“Time for a cup of tea!” I heard Tracy's call from behind. More a plea than a question but I wondered what the chances were of finding tea. Norwegians seem to drink a lot of coffee, and hot chocolate but didn't always offer tea.

Two minutes later we approached a small village, Ramberg, and amazingly saw a sign which read 'Tourist Information, Coffee and Tea'. We pulled in.

Hendrick, who ran the shop, insisted that we had large mugs of tea and offered us his box of Twinnings.

“I used to work on the ships, you know,” he said in excellent English. “I have spent many good times in England. I think the first time I went was in 1962. We love English T.V. in Norway. Do you know Mr. Bean?”

“Yes, of course,” I replied.

“And Heart Beat. That is my favourite. Help yourself to the tea and I hope you have a lovely time in the Lofoten Islands. I live in that red house over there. If you have any problems or worries while you are here, please come and see me. I will help.”

From Hendrick's shop we only got into second gear and had to stop again. The beach at Ramberg was a picture postcard white which wouldn't have looked out of place in the Caribbean. We had to remind ourselves that we were in the Arctic.

 

The road on from Ramberg was wonderful. Cruising along at 60 k/ph we weaved our way along the shoreline, the sea on one side and the imposing mountains on the other. Mile after mile we wended our way up and down, in and out, passing small villages then open countryside; the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the road. At Leknes we turned off the main E10 and headed for the east coast and followed a sign to a small campsite on the shore.

Camping in Norway may not be cheap but the facilities are always first rate and the sites are usually situated in stunning scenery. Today was no exception. There was a campers' kitchen and sitting area, coffee shop and clean shower and toilet blocks. And, as always seemed to be the case in Norway, free internet access. We booked in for two nights. We stayed for three.

 

Packed and ready to leave

Unburdened of luggage and full panniers the bike felt light and alive the following day as Tracy and I set off for a day's exploring. Our first stop was at Borg where an 83 metre long Viking building had been unearthed and a faithful reconstruction formed the centre piece of the Lofoten Viking Museum. We'd arrived during the annual Viking festival and the place was alive with long bearded men wielding axes and sticks. Now, when I think Viking, I must admit, I often think pillaging and fighting but there is more to the average Viking than just that. I was amazed to discover that at the height of Viking society, in the ninth and tenth centuries women were afforded much more power and authority than their Anglo-Saxon sisters. Viking women could divorce and had a sizeable say in legal matters and ceremonial rituals. Until, the voice in my audio-guide headset whispered, Christianity arrived.

Tracy made me...I didn't want to - honest.

We walked down to the shore line where a fully fitted replica Viking ship was about to set sail. There were Viking stalls selling honey mead, leather goods, knives and trinkets. Viking women wove and Viking men fought. Everyone was eating meat. Us Vege Anglo-Saxons; we just quietly watched, and munched on the salad we'd bought at the supermarket.

From Borg we took a minor road out to Eggum and the views just got better and better. Twisting our way around the coast, the paved road finally ran out and we paid a £1 toll to take a gravel track a further kilometre out to the an old World War Two site. In 1944 the Nazi's had built a radar station here to monitor traffic coming out of Murmansk in Russia. Little of it was left but the walk along the cliffs made the journey worthwhile passing a bizarre sculpture of a human head looking out to sea. With not a cloud in the sky it was hot work walking along in biking gear and I just couldn't believe that I was getting hot and sweaty in the Arctic.

The following day we took full advantage of the excellent weather and headed for the beach. Taking some minor roads off the main E10 we rode down twisty country lanes, past farms and empty fields until we reached some deserted beaches. The Lofoten Islands have some beautiful sandy beaches on the western coasts, including, according to The Times, Europe's most romantic beach!

Europe's most romantic beach

Time had caught up with us and we had to leave the Lofoten island to return to mainland Norway. We'd made the conscious decision to stop when we were having fun and not rush up to Nordkapp. Consequentially we now didn't have time to get up to the top and back down to the UK so, with a rueful glance north at Harstad we turned south for the first time on this trip and headed for Sweden.

This is the furthest north we got.

Looking north - maybe next time...

Nordkapp will have to wait.

Heading north into the Arctic.

At last we found boring Norway. Although that's a bit harsh. Just boring when compared to the amazing fjords. Norway north of Trondheim is lovely, but not amazing. Rolling hills, green pastures, cows and rivers. Not what I was expecting but that's what travelling's all about. Three years ago I was in Alaska (on Heidi) and there was little in the way of green grass and fields with cows in them! I remember camping in Fairbanks and riding 200 miles north to the Arctic circle past pine forests and rocky terrain very unsuitable to farming. But northern Norway is different. Very different. We were still camping on lush grass (I didn't camp on grass at all in Alaska or northern Canada.) hadn't seen a mozzie or midge and weren't at all worried about bears killing us in our sleep.

Luch break on the road

Wild raspberries near the Arctic circle. Who'd have thought?

There are two ways north from Trondheim. The fast main road (E6) which passes through the Arctic circle just north of the intriguingly named city of Mo I Rana. Go this way if you want a photo crossing the circle. Or the picturesque, twisty N17 which winds its way down to the coast and via a series of seven ferries (I think it was seven, we lost count of the number of ferries we'd actually used) heads north towards Bodo. We were thinking of going the quick way (As I'm not sure we'll have time to get to Nordkapp at this rate) but, on advice, we headed east for the N17.

Another day - another ferry

It took us the best part of three days to travel the N17 (National Geographic lists it in its 101 most scenic routes in the world!). I'm sure in nice weather it lives up to the hype. Unfortunately we saw a lot of clouds and rain. It was still a nice road to travel on but weather is everything, especially on a motorcycle when you're camping. I think we'd been a little unlucky with the rain and the N17 was a real disappointment. There were times, I'm willing to admit, when I looked upon the camper vans we saw was envy. All curled up in their lovely warm, dry boxes. And I'm sure Tracy felt the same.

Trondheim had been warm at plus 20 degrees C but as we approached 66 degrees north the air cooled. At Polar Camp, where we stayed on Wednesday, the average daytime temperature in August is 12 degrees. Layers were being added during the daytime and thermals at night. Our 'holiday' was beginning to become a bit of an endurance test. And neither of us wanted that. We were beginning to discuss how far we would put up with this if the weather didn't improve. Was there any point fighting through the rain and cold just to get to Nordkapp?

At least the weird Norwegian architecture cheered us up.

The last day on the N17 saw us approaching Bodo, the gateway to the Lofoten Islands. It had rained during the night and most of the following day. Which was a real shame as this was a special day. We crossed the Arctic circle. But not your normal, boring road way. No, we did it on a ferry. I can't imagine there is anywhere else in the world where you can cross into the Arctic on a regular ferry. As the ship passed 66 degrees 33 minutes we could see a global marker on the rocks.

Crossing into the Arctic.

We then rode for two hours in Arctic rain. I'd been looking forward to riding this far north. In Alaska I'd stopped at the circle and then turned south for Panama. I'd been to Iceland, but the north of that country doesn't quite reach 66 degrees. As we got off the boat at Jektvik I was now further north than I'd ever been. But somehow the rain took the edge off it!

But at least I had a plan! We were heading for the Saltstraumen Maelstrom. Claimed to be the world's strongest, at high tide millions of gallons of water violently churns its whirlpool way through a three kilometre strait connecting two fjords. This happens four times a day and I knew the next one as at 12:55 pm. We had sixty kilometres to cover in an hour and as long as was careful, on the twisty, wet N17 we would make it.

We did – just. I rode over the bridge at five to one with the waters gushing below us. At the other end of the bridge I turned round and rode back over. Only then did I realise that there had been a policeman stationed at each end of the bridge. He didn't seem bothered with us at all, but it was a little weird. As I exited the bridge I pulled into a lay-by full of cars and people. I'd assumed that they were all there to see the Maelstrom but somehow it didn't seem right. Why all the Norwegian flags? Why the police? Why the brass band and dance troupe? Something was afoot...

We'd inadvertently stumbled across 'The Arctic race of Norway - The most picturesque road race in the world'. A four day bicycle race which was heading our way. As we'd been crossing the bridge over the waters the police had been blocking off the road and we were now stuck in a lay-by with cycling enthusiasts for the next hour as we waited for the race to pass it.

Standing there in full motorcycle gear and waterproofs, cold and wet we watched the brass band and dances practising their moves. As the time approached people started to congregating near the road. Many walked up the bridge no doubt to get a better look at the cyclists as they slowly climbed their way up. Police cars and motorcycles passed us, building the tension.

 

And then, woosh. They were here. The three leading bikes sped passed us in seconds and about twenty seconds later the Pelaton was upon us. And then gone again.

  

The Pelaton heading for the bridge

 

It was all over.

But we had to wait another thirty minutes until the road was open. We'd been cold and hungry and wet. But somehow this unexpected delay had made our day. A little glimpse into what can happen on an August day in Bodo.

                                   It's still very beautiful – even with the clouds!

  

The following day we shared the three hour ferry (perhaps our last ferry!) to the Lofoten Islands with two Portuguese bikers. They'd taken THREE days to ride from Portugal to Norway! And had ten days to see the country. It made me grateful for my long summer holidays.

I'll update the blog about the Lofoten Islands in a couple of days. The weather has improved, the sun is out and we're here for a few days....