Cycling the Atlantic coast of Europe from north to south during the summer of 2017. View the archive, the route so far, or donate to MSF.

Cake by the ocean

By Stuart Lowe on

I packed up the inside of my tent before donning my heat net and braving the midges. I left my little woodland camp spot and hit the road. About 500m down the road I saw a sign for the campsite. Typical. At least I'd saved the cost.

The weather improved just as Marte had suggested it would. I arrived at the ferry to blue skies. It took me over to Selvika for about 38 krones. A few kilometres later I found a Bilateral and took them the old camping gas canisters. The claim from hundreds of kilometres away that I'd get some deposit back turned out not to be the gas. At least I'd got rid of them. I was able to buy a new cannister and some new break pads.

On the way into Kristiansund, a Norwegian man on a folding bicycle showed me the way. He left me in the centre and suggested the tourist office might be up the hill. I went up the hill but couldn't find it. Went around the town a couple of times. It turned out the office was just a little booth on the waterfront.

The lady in the booth thought the only way out of Kristiansund was through the tunnel and bikes weren't allowed. She said I should get a bus from the bus station. After Marte the day before, Kristiansund's tourist office was a major disappointment.

At the bus station they said it probably wasn't expensive and might be 91 krones (!) but I should check with the driver. Why is the bus station uncertain about the price? The bus station?! Nobody in Norway seems to know the price in advance. Ughh. The would leave me nothing for food. Rather than get the bus from the bus station (it is cheating to cross land not under my own steam) I rode to the mouth of the tunnel. There was a bus stop. It suggested you could take a taxi for 100 krones or take a bus for an unspecified amount. It also didn't tell you the bus times. There was a number you could call (I can't) or a website to visit (my Internet phone's battery is failing). A lady and her young son arrived at the bus stop. She heard me chuntering about the price. She was originally from Lithuania and had lived here for seven years. She apologised for Norway being so expensive. It clearly isn't her fault. I was particularly despondent about it because of being tired (I haven't had a rest day in two weeks), hungry (everything is expensive), and still damp after what feels like weeks of being wet through. The extremely kind lady insisted on paying for the bus fare for me. Thank you to her. Once I get home I'll be donating that amount to MSF in lieu.

Through the tunnel I was still annoyed about the price and the fact that there was apparently no alternative. Also the fact that it only cost cars 100 krones to get through. So much for Norway encouraging green travel. It left me in a bad mood for the 20 km around the next island.

When I finally reached the Atlantic Highway the view managed to change my mood. This was the view from the tourist brochures. I had the blue skies too. I'd been planning to go to Bud but decided to camp here. I found my own little hill between the road and the ocean where the grass was already flattened from a previous occupant. It was idyllic aside from being buzzed by a couple of drone planes (hopefully they didn't catch me having a wee). There weren't even any midges or flies to ruin the moment. I had dinner of pasta then ate an entire Rullekake with a cup of tea. I watched the sun set. That was the first I've properly seen since the start of my trip. Perfect.

Atlantic Highway

bike with the Atlantic

Wild camping

Rullecake and tea by the ocean