CAMPING
IN NORWAY 2014 - Vesterålen Islands of Hadseløya, Langøya, Hinnøya and Andøya, and Island
of Senja:
Ferry crossing from Fiskebøl to Melbu:
at the little port of Fiskebøl on the northern coast of Austvågøya, we were
first in the queue of vehicles waiting for the 1-15pm ferry across the sound to
Melbu on Hadseløya, the southernmost island of the Vesterålen archipelago (Photo 1 - Awaiting Fiskebøl~Melbu ferry).
By the time the ferry was docking, buses were waiting for arriving
foot-passengers as part of Norway's admirable integrated public transport
network, and another bus boarded the ferry alongside us to cross to the
Vesterålen Islands.
Click on 2 highlighted areas of map
for
details of
Vesterålen Islands and Senja |
 |
Hadseløya, the southernmost of the Vesterålen
Islands: as the ferry pulled away from the dock, we stood on the upper
deck looking back over the Lofoten mountains which were still veiled with gloomy cloud (see
above left)
(Photo 2 - Departing Lofotens on Fiskebøl ferry).
The crossing took 30 minutes, and drizzly rain greeted our arrival at the very
functional
port of Melbu on the southern coast of Hadseløya. Having shopped for provisions
at the Co-op supermarket, we set off on the narrow
lane around the island's
southern and western coastline with the weather beginning to brighten.
A series of farmsteads lined the southern
coastal strip with cattle and goats grazing in enclosures, and sunlight sparkled on
the shallow coastal waters, looking back across to the highlands of Austvågøya
over the sound we had just crossed (see left)
(Photo 3 - Lofoten highlands from Hadseløya).
On the landward side, Hadseløya rose to an inland plateau, but the island's SW
corner was dominated by the craggy buttresses of Lamlitinden rising prominently
above the coastal farms, and rounding to the western coastline the mountain
pinnacles of the much-indented Langøya rose mightily across the sound. As we
turned along Hadseløya's northern coast, we met gloomy cloud again, and rain and
poor road surface as we approached the island's main town made Stokmarknes seem
a forlorn place.
Stokmarknes, home of the Hurtigrute Coastal
Express Service: the port of Stokmarknes is the birthplace of the
Hurtigrute Coastal Express Service, and the south-bound boat departs from here
daily at 3-15pm. It was just after 3-00pm as we approached the port, and pulled
into the Hurtigrute quay where M/S Nordlys (Northern Lights) was
preparing to depart towards the spectacularly narrow Trollfjord on its way to Svolvær
on the Lofoten Islands. In gloomily overcast light with dark cloud covering the
surrounding hills and rain beginning again, we dashed around to the quay. The
last of the fork-lift trucks had just completed loading, the cargo hoist and
passenger gang-plank were being folded away, the ship's horn sounded for
imminent departure, mooring lines were untied, and Hurtigrute M/S Nordlys
slid gracefully away from the quay
(Photo 4 - Hurtigrute departing Stokmarknes). She turned in the gloom of the channel and
steamed away along Langøy Sound southwards (see right) as we photographed her departure and
walked across to the nearby Hurtigrute Museum to find out more about the origins
and development of the Hurtigrute Coastal Express Co whose ships we had seen in
so many of the northern ports we had visited over the past 2 years;
see Hurtigruten web site and our 2012 log of seeing the Hurtigruten at Berlevåg and Kjøllefjord.
The Hurtigrute service was founded here in
Stokmarknes by local merchant and ship's captain Richard With who, frustrated by
the prices charged and limited services offered by existing coastal shipping
companies, formed his own shipping line in 1881, the
Vesteraalens Dampskibsselskab (Vesterålen
Steamship Co). He teamed up with an experienced local pilot to map the
dangerous waters around the islands and established a reliable and
successful shipping company. Around this time the Norwegian government proposed
extending the coastal steamer service northwards, but the existing government
sponsored shipping operators that had developed between Bergen, Trondheim and Tromsø would
not risk sailing further north during winter months or the hours
of darkness and refused to tender for the contract. Captain Richard With's small Vesterålen Steamship Co radically proposed a weekly all-year-round
coastal express service between Trondheim and Hammerfest which would link up
with the newly completed Oslo~Trondheim railway. In 1893 he won the government
contract to operate this service, and in July of that year the first Hurtigrute
Coastal Express Service began operating with M/S Vesterålen departing
from Trondheim for Hammerfest. In 1914 the weekly service was extended right
around to Kirkenes, operating even through the winter and providing an
invaluable freight, passenger and postal service to all the ports and isolated
communities along the route. It became a daily service in 1936 but was halted by
war in 1940 when several of the Hurtigrute ships were taken over by the Germans
to transport war materials. After the 1941 German attack on USSR, Finmark became
a war zone and 9 of the 15 Hurtigrute boats were torpedoed during WW2 with 700
fatalities. Regular Hurtigrute sailings were resumed in 1946, newer vessels ordered and the daily service between Bergen and Kirkenes
was reinstated in 1953 with the Hurtigrute Company becoming Norway's major
passenger, freight and mail carrier. The modern development of Norway's road and
rail infrastructure from the 1980s caused a decline in Hurtigrute's passenger numbers,
but newer ships
and the emerging tourism and cruise-ship trade have done something to restore the company's
position as one of Norway's iconic businesses; its marketing slogan promotes the
Hurtigrute coastal route as 'The
world's most beautiful voyage'.
The Hurtigrute Museum at Stokmarknes:
the Hurtigrute Museum documents the story of the shipping line's history, with a
statue of its founder Richard With in the courtyard here at the company's
birthplace (see above left). For such a prestigious company the displays were all
rather modest, and apart from the daily influx of passengers when the Hurtigrute
calls at Stokmarknes, the museum was certainly not overwhelmed with visitors.
Docked high and dry alongside the museum was one of the 1950s Hurtigrute boats
M/S Finmarken which had sailed the coastal route until her retirement in
1993 (see above right); a
gangplank linked across from the museum onto the venerable vessel. In
pouring rain we lost ourselves among the ship's gloomy and fusty-smelling
lounges and corridors, eventually finding our way up onto the bridge (see right).
With the sky now an ugly grey and heavily
overcast, we drove through the town and crossed the first of the 2 high-arching
bridges linking Stokmarknes on Hadseløya over to the larger Vesterålen island of
Langøya, to find tonight's campsite on Børøya, a large islet in the Langøy Sound
(see Map 1 top right). Stokmarknes Turistsenter turned out to be no more than an
over-expensive and featureless gravelled parking area posing as a camp site alongside a hotel. The bleakly chill weather with driving rain matched the place's
cheerless environment, but reluctantly we settled into a sheltered corner.
Southern and western Langøya: heavy rain
during the night fell as snow on the surrounding hills which in the early
morning sunshine sparkled in the cold air (see above left). At the far side of Børøya
we paused to photograph the elegant 2km long sweeping curve of the bridge
linking across to Langøya, the centre span of which is tall enough to allow
large ships such as the Hurtigrute to make the passage along the Langøy Sound
(see right) (Photo 5 - Langøy Sound bridge).
After
crossing this magnificent structure (see below left), we turned onto the minor lane
leading around the southern coastline of Langøya passing a series of farmsteads
on the flatter lands bordering the sea. As we stood looking back across the sound towards Hadseløya's
mountainous skyline
(Photo
6 - Langøy Sound and Hadseløya's mountainous skyline),
a Widerøe Airlines Dash-8 aircraft came in to land at Stokmarknes Airport along
the sound (see below right). Rounding Langøya's south-western corner, the lane
became narrower
passing
through isolated hamlets along this fretted shoreline (see below left), before
delving deep inland around the fjord inlet of Slåttnesbugen. The surrounding
mountains were now high and craggy, dusted with last night's fresh snow and a
covering of gloomy low cloud. The lane narrowed further to single-track
winding around rocky headlands above the sea and dipping back inland passing
craggy inlets and fishing cabins. Looking across Eidsfjord, the jagged peaks of Langøya's
far western extension rose startlingly with their crusty snow covering. This was
indeed stressful driving almost reminiscent of Corsica, and along the next
straight stretch we passed the school bus, thankful not to have met this on the
narrow, rocky blind bends. The lane now swung inland again into a broader inlet, the land dotted with farms and backed by a wall of dark, snow-dusted
mountains. Beyond a further series of hamlets, we reached the junction with a
lane which led across the width of the island's flatter moorland central plateau
to Sortland, the main town. With the weather now
gloomy in the extreme, we reached the watershed, and the lane descended steeply
to join the main Route 82 with the hills of Hinnøya rising on the far side of
the sound.
Sortland,
the main town of Langøya:
beyond the junction at Sortland Bridge, driving into the town amid what seemed the
bedlam of urban traffic came as a culture shock after peacefully deserted island
back-lanes. We were able to park without difficulty in the centre (Vesterålen
tourist literature rightly makes much of parking being free of charge in all the
islands' towns), and walked along Kjøpmanns gata to find the Sortland tourist
information centre. We were rewarded with a first class information service by
the delightfully friendly and knowledgeable local girl at the TIC whose fluent
English was spoken with a Geordie accent; she was studying English at Newcastle
University. Extricating ourselves from Sortland's grid of one-way streets, we
stocked up with provisions at the Rema 1000 supermarket by the bridge and with
the sky still gloomily overcast and a chill northerly wind blowing along the
Sortland Sound, we headed north.
Stø
Bobil-Camp: across the narrower width of the island on Route
820 to Frøskeland, we turned northwards, winding around hills and gloomy lakes
to turn off again along the much-indented coastline of the narrow Lifjord to
reach the large fishing port of Alsvåg. Here we continued across the aptly named
marshy flatlands of Stormyra (Great Marsh) which almost separates off the
northern hilly peninsula we were now heading towards. Reaching the larger
village of Myre, we turned north again along the peninsula's marshy eastern
coast to reach the ultimate northern tip at the tiny fishing hamlet of Stø,
not quite the end of the road since an unsurfaced lane wound uncertainly among
the rocks to end at the very northern and exposed rocky tip of the peninsula.
Nestling under craggy cliffs on the landward side, and battered by a northerly
Arctic gale-driven tide on the seaward side, here was Stø Bobil-Camp, our base
for the next 2 days and one of the most exposed positions we should ever camp
at (see right) (Photo
7 - Stø Bobil-Camp). We were welcomed in hospitable fashion at the café by the family who run the
campsite, and charged a
very reasonable all-inclusive 215 NOK/day for our stay. The
wide, flat gravelled circular camping area (see right) was sheltered behind
rocks on the seaward side, and the high cliffs which bounded the site on the
landward side were topped by a weather radar-station. We pitched facing
north-easterly towards Stø fishing harbour with nose into the wind blowing off
the sea (see left). By now it was 6-30pm and we were exhausted after a long day, having
driven from the south of Langøya to its extreme north-westerly tip around the
many coastlines of its much-indented topography, settling in with multi-layers
of clothes for a chill, stormy night and the heater struggling desperately to
combat the cold draughts.
A bleak Midsummer Day in camp at Stø:
during the night the gusting Arctic gale veered around, and we turned George
further through almost 90° into the changed wind direction before returning to
the warmth of sleeping bags. We spent the day in camp, the coldest, bleakest
Midsummer Day ever with a chilling north-easterly Arctic gale driving stinging
rain onto the camper's front, the penetrating draughts through roof vents
preventing the inside temperature ever reaching a comfortable warmth. We managed to
make Skype contact with family in UK; they sat in summer T-shirts in midsummer
sun while we sat huddled in multi-layers of Arctic gear and woolly hats!
The Queen's Route coastal path from Stø:
the fearsome north-easterly wind was still blowing the next morning, driving a high
swell onto the rocks and breakwater, with low cloud still covering the peaks
behind us. The
light was still poor but at least the misty drizzle had stopped, and today we
planned to walk part of the Dronningruta (The Queen's Path), a coastal path
between Stø and Nyksund named after Queen Sonja of Norway. Kitting up fully
against the weather, we began the route immediately behind the café/reception at Stø
Bobil-Camp. Despite being
way-marked by DNT red Ts painted on rocks, after
yesterday's rain the path was muddy underfoot and indistinct in places with a
number of variations (see right) (Photo
8 - Dronningruta coastal path). There was much wild flora to admire, with
extensive dwarf cornel and insectivorous butterworts and coverings of cloudberry
plants with bedraggled flowers; on such exposed headlands we could not imagine
there would be much of a crop of berries in August. The indistinct and boggy
path advanced over the hummocky headlands reaching a high rocky outcrop which we
managed to scramble over onto a higher path around a headland overlooking a
broad bay. From there we dropped down a sandy defile to where the wind-driven surf rolled
onto a wild and desolate beach enclosed by high craggy mountain cliffs (see
left) (Photo
9 - Arctic beach). With the weather still murkily grey and chill wind blowing off the sea we
crossed the beach and over the next headland to a further bay, with the path
continuing around this desolate coastline as far as the former
fishing port of Nyksund. With insufficient time today to complete the full
circuit of the path, we re-traced our steps back to Stø for warming coffee
and home-made cinnamon buns at the café. Despite wind and weather at this
exposed northern location, our stay at Stø Bobil-Camp had been a memorable one.
Kittiwakes nesting at Stø fishing harbour:
we returned around the pot-holed dirt road to Stø harbour to photograph the
fishing boats (Photo
10 - Stø fishing harbour). An outer sea wall linking across the headlands
enclosed the more protected inner harbour where once a large fishing fleet would
have sheltered; today only a dozen or so boats were moored here. A colony of
kittiwakes nested on a low rocky outcrop just by the harbour where female birds
sat either hatching eggs on the filthy nests or rearing tiny fluffy chicks (see
right)
(Photo
11 - Nesting Kittiwake). The male birds swarmed around squawking their
'Kittiwake' calls as they returned to the nests with food.
The
excellent Oppmyre Camping: from Myre we turned along the peninsula's western
shore and a couple of kms further turned off onto a side-lane to find tonight's
campsite Oppmyre Camping set on a shore-side headland close to Langrygg harbour.
The owner welcomed us charging an all-inclusive 235 NOK/night including wi-fi
internet, first class, newly modernised facilities, a beautifully furnished
common room and the best-equipped kitchen we had seen all trip. The campsite had
been established by the present owner's father and he now continued the family
tradition of offering a hospitable and well-cared for campsite; it well deserved the
+5 rating we awarded. The location was
second to none with flat gravelled or grassy camping areas looking south down
the length of Romsetfjord, and despite the still solid grey cloud and bitingly
chill, northerly wind, we pitched down at the fjord-side to enjoy this
magnificent panoramic horizon of distant jagged peaks.
(Photo
12 - Oppmyre Camping). It was at Oppmyre Camping that we met the
cheery Englishman Jerry Webb who was here on a canoeing venture and travelling
on a light, collapsible and fully-laden cycle. We passed him later in the day on
our return from Nyksund as he sat by the road-side repairing a puncture, where
the stony and pot-holed road surface had done its worst. We have since exchanged
emails with him and through our web site again send him greetings, happily
recalling our chance meeting with such an affably like-minded traveller.
Nyksund revived: back at Myre, we turned off onto the lane leading out to Nyksund on the NW tip of the peninsula. Nyksund
had long been a flourishing fishing settlement, but as larger
vessels and road transportation rendered the port obsolete due to its shallow harbour, isolation and poor road, Nyksund's population dwindled.
Finally during the 1960s the Norwegian government paid resettlement grants to the last residents to close the place down as a cheaper option to spending
public money on maintaining the infrastructure of such an isolated outpost. Nyksund became a ghost-town. But in the 1980s a determined group of Germans
reoccupied the semi-derelict settlement, and over the intervening years have
made a success of their chosen isolation to resurrect Nyksund as a going
concern. Long-abandoned and decaying buildings have been restored using reclaimed original
materials, and a small community has built up in the resurrected Nyksund providing
tourist accommodation and café-restaurants in the restored fishing wharfs around
the tiny harbour inlet. There is now a summer population of around 50 occupying
the once crumbling ruins of houses on
the
hillside with a handful of hardy souls braving out life in this remote spot
throughout the harsh winters.
The unsurfaced, single-track lane hugged the shore-line passing around
fragmented rocky headlands; work was in progress to reinforce the rock-face
against the danger of rock-falls. We edged slowly along the 11kms of pot-holed,
crumbling lane finally reaching the parking area just before Nyksund's northern
breakwater. Around far side of the mole, Nyksund's brightly painted
buildings clustered around the inner sheltered harbour set against the
silver-grey back-lit murky cloud and sky-line of distant jagged peaks (see above
left) (Photo
13 - Nyksund's mountainous backdrop). Far from being over-commercialised, the revived Nyksund was in fact a
straightforward place with ramshackle café-guest houses eking out a living
around the little harbour. Some of the
warehouses were still semi-derelict awaiting restoration, with remnants of
materials and fishing equipment rescued from Nyksund's
livelier days lurking
around every corner. It was thoroughly charming without in any way being twee.
The place was delightfully free of the expected mass invasion of tourists, with
just a handful of visitors who had braved the dramatic drive out to this remote
spot and who like us ambled quietly around the restored wharfs relishing the
peacefulness. The scale of the wooden houses scattered across the hillside above
the harbour (see left) and the size of the wharfs and warehouses was an
indication that Nyksund had once been a prosperous if isolated settlement. Now
they all stood peacefully enjoying a restored second existence (see above
right)
(Photo
14 - Nyksund's harbour-side wharfs). The heavier cloud of earlier was beginning to break with the brisk
northerly wind bringing blue sky, so that a weak sun lit Nyksund's brightly
painted wharfs. We happily wandered around the inner harbour and sat to eat our
sandwiches at a driftwood picnic table in a sheltered nook by the outer mole,
looking out over the dramatic grey sea-scape and mountainous skyline to the
south with the sun sparkling across the waters (see right) (Photo
15 - Nyksund's dramatic sea-scape).
Fjord Camping, impressive location but
officiously ill-mannered reception: south again from Myre with the
weather turning gloomy again with driving drizzle, we followed the road around
Steinlandsfjord over the hills to descend to Route 820 at the head of
Eidsfjord. Here at Frøskeland we turned west heading towards Langøya's remote
and much-indented
western
province of Bø. Across a connecting ridge of land, the road wound around
Annfjord and began a steep ascent towards the mouth of the tunnel which burrows
through the formidable-looking mountainous barrier ahead. This was a challenging
route which emerged from the tunnel's western end to turn north on a narrow
side-lane beyond a couple of lakes. Here we finally reached Fjord Camping on the
shore of Ryggefjord, our base for tonight and the only campsite in Bø. After a
long and wearying drive we simply wanted to settle in, but were greeted at
reception in an officiously unhelpful and ill-mannered manner; this was clearly
the sort of place that expected an apology for being a paying guest. The camping
area looking out northwards along the length of the fjord and surrounded by
jagged peaks was impressive (see left), but this did little to offset the bitter
taste left by such an offensively rude and inhospitable non-welcome. The
bitterly cold northerly wind had dropped and temperature was less severe, but
the low, grey cloud persisted obscuring the mountainous views. The campsite's
huts were occupied by an entertaining group of Austrian fishermen whose boats
hauled cratefuls of cod back from the fjord. Their wives worked relentlessly on
filleting operations, transferring the fish
to freezers in one of the huts. The fishing, filleting and freezing went on
throughout the night, and one of the fishermen explained that they transported
their bulk catch home by air-freight to see them through the winter; this was a
fishing hobby on an industrial scale, and we could but admire their enthusiasm.
Return to Sortland and another Hurtigrute
encounter: our mood brightened when we left Fjord Camping the
following morning (we should not be going back and recommend others to avoid
such an unwelcoming place), to begin the long, winding climb the northern lakes
up to the tunnel mouth to pass through the mountain barrier which divides
western Bø from the central part of Langøya. As we reached the island's eastern
coast along the shore of Sortland Sound with the dark hills of Hinnøya rising
gloomily on the far shore, we could see a large ship
coming south along the
sound; it had to be the south-bound Hurtigrute which docked at Sortland at
12-30pm. We had 30 minutes to reach the town and find the Hurtigrute terminal.
Beyond Sortland Bridge at the northern end of the town, we parked at the port
and waited at the quay to photograph the magnificent sight of M/S Richard
With (we now knew the significance of the Hurtigrute company founder's name)
passing under the high central arch of the elegant Sortland Bridge (see right)
(Photo
16 - Hurtigrute passing under Sortland Bridge) and swinging
around to dock at the quayside. As we had seen now so many times, the gangplank
was lowered for passengers and cyclists to board and fork-lift trucks began
loading pallets of freight (see left). With the bitterly cold wind blowing down
Sortland Sound, the last of the passengers hurried aboard, the ship's horn
announced imminent departure time, and M/S Richard
With drew away from the quay to continue south along the sound towards
Stokmarknes.
Having parked again in the town centre to complete
our practical jobs, we finally left Sortland crossing the high arching bridge to
the Hinnøya side of the channel to continue our northward journey. While not
endowed with any particularly noteworthy features other than its elegant bridge,
Sortland had proved a worthy centre serving not only the local population but
thoroughly meeting our practical needs; we liked the place for just that.
Northwards
around the coast of Hinnøya and a disappointing campsite:
Hinnøya, the largest of Norway's off-shore islands, is flatter than Langøya, its
boggy moorland interspersed by rounded hills. Across Sortland Bridge, Route 82
turned north to cross the mouth of Hognfjord on another arching bridge and
continued past coastal farms along the eastern side of Sortland Sound with the
more jagged peaks of northern Langøya rising starkly across the water. Over a
broad shoulder of moorland, the road crossed a marshy area and the inlet of
Forfjord, to reach tonight's
campsite, Andøy Friluftsenter which was set up on the fellside overlooking the
southern mouth of Risøy Sound. Kept by and Englishman and his locally born wife,
Andøy Outdoor Centre's web site spoke of 'a small wilderness and tourism
project' begun in 1988 'built up stone by stone with nothing left to chance'; it
sounded attractive. When we arrived, it was clear that the main business was a
pretentious and ultra-expensive
restaurant, with a small area of rough fell-land
up the hillside passing as a campsite with minimalist facilities and no kitchen.
Booking-in was a long-winded and bureaucratic form-filling tedium, and when told
that this was the only campsite in Norway not to provide its camping guests with
cooking facilities, the staff simply shrugged. Disappointed that the place
failed singularly to live up to the promising impression given, we should stay
just the one night. Having said that, the camping area set high on the fell-side
had a glorious outlook looking out across the Risøy Sound to the hills of
southern Andøya opposite (see right), and the following morning we enjoyed the
spectacle of the south-bound Hurtigrute passing along the sound on its way from
Risøyhamn to Sortland (see left).
Crossing to Andøya: we continued north around the bulky mass of
Buknesfjell to cross the high-span bridge arching over Risøy Sound linking
northern Hinnøya to the southern coast of Andøya (click on map 2 top right). We
turned off into the little port-village of Risøyhamn which the Hurtigrute had
just left on its voyage south, and shopped for provisions at the remarkably
well-stocked village mini-market. Re-joining the main road, we turned off again
onto Route 974 which passed through the village of Bjørnskinn under the
rounded-top hill of Bjørnskinntinden, and as we approached the island's west
coast the sky at last cleared and the sun broke through; George had a shadow for
the first time in seemingly weeks! As the lane swung north along Andøya's long
western coastline, we could look out across the Norwegian Sea and on the distant
horizon just make out the silhouette of Stø headland where we had been 5 days
earlier.
Archaeological site of an Iron Age farmstead:
a short distance further, near to the village of Bø, a sign pointed
along a track-way to a Jernaldergård (Iron Age farmstead), and in the now bright
sunshine, we set off to walk through the birch groves to find the archaeological
site. Among the croaking ravens soaring around the hill-tops, one larger bird
stood out distinctively with a white tail and broad wing span; it was one of Andøya's population of sea eagles, but before we could focus cameras it
disappeared. The path was lined with a wealth of wild flora: the ubiquitous
chickweed wintergreen, dwarf cornel, butterworts and lacy flowered bog beans,
but what most attracted our attention were the cloudberries. Here the white
flowers were mostly
past leaving the empty pink calices of the male flowers
which clearly had done their job since the fertilised female plant calices now
enclosed embryonic berries, some just beginning to ripen (see right)
(Photo
17 - Cloudberry). This
seemed early in the year compared with our past experience, but it was still a
very special find and we spent long photographing these early cloudberries and
the other flora. Again so pleasing were the wild flora and bird life during these
2 weeks that we have included a photo-gallery of
Vesterålen Islands' flora and fauna We reached the Iron Age farmstead
archaeological site, signposted
Den Glemte Gården (The Forgotten Farmstead), a settlement that had been occupied
for 100s of years until wiped out in the 14th century AD by the Black Death
Plague. An information panel detailed the traces of the farmstead's remains, but
little was readily identifiable other than burial mounds. It was however a
poignant moment exploring the site, with the sunshine gleaming down through the
birches.
Andøya's magnificent western coastline: this beautiful coast road
passed through Bø threading a lonely way around beautiful white sand beaches and
under craggy cliffs on the landward side past a rocky headland projecting into
the
turquoise-blue sea. Through the village of Nøss with its brightly
painted wooden houses straggling along the lane (see right), and around another prominent
headland, ahead across another sandy bay the spectacularly jagged crest of Gårdsfjell descended to the shoreline with the narrow road burrowing its way
precariously around its base (Photo
18 - Andøya's craggy western coastline). Further along this ragged shoreline,
Route 974 reached the fishing village of Nordmela where the minor lane across
Andøya's width branched off inland.
Beyond the turning to the lighthouse, an
insignificant hand-written sign pointed to some fishing sheds with the words 'Hval
kjøtt' (Whale meat); curiosity prevailed over scruples, and we drove over to what looked like
a commercial fish-processing warehouse alongside fish-drying frames loaded with
cods' heads. Our tentative enquiries eventually led us upstairs where insulated
containers were opened up to reveal vac-packs of very dark meat. Hesitantly we bought a
small
pack and were told it could be barbecued or fried but needed little cooking. The road ahead passed alongside a vast area of low marshy
moorland which makes up the central part of Andøya's northern peninsula, and
crossed a causeway separating the shore-side meadows of Skogvollbukta and
trapped inland meres. At the northern end, a string of houses were built along
this narrow land-strip; just beyond a broad white sand bay opened up with Stave
village at the far side and in the distance another spectacularly jagged
mountain crest descended to the sea.
This was indeed a magnificent coastline.
The onwards road turned
inland along the broad open valley of Stavdalen between enclosing hills and at
the northern
end we descended to Bleik village and tonight's shore-side
campsite, Midnattsol Camping (see left). With the sky still promisingly bright but a fair
amount of
cloud about, we hoped the campsite would live up to its name for perfect views
of the Midnight Sun.
A
spectacular late sun at Midnattsol Camping: the owner welcomed us
with superb hospitality and modestly dismissed our appreciative reaction: it was
his job, he said, to make his guests feel welcome. If only all campsite owners
were so naturally welcoming! The small beach-side camping area seemed quite full
but we readily settled into a quiet spot at the far end which gave us an
unimpeded seaward view to the north; all that was needed now was for the evening
to remain clear. Despite the evening sun, there was no chance of barbecuing in
the brisk and bitingly chill northerly wind, so the whale meat supper would have
to be cooked inside the camper. Pan fried, it produced a novel and surprisingly
delicious meal of rich, gamey meat with taste and texture not dissimilar to
venison (see above right), and certainly not at all fatty or tough as expected.

As
the evening wore on, we watched the sky anxiously. Beyond 11-00pm the sun angled
down into broken cloud, producing a spectacularly impressive sky-scape (see
above left) and we
came out regularly onto the beach for photographs in the bitterly cold wind (Photo
19 - 11-00pm declining sun).
But beyond midnight (clock time), it was clear that the cloud was thickening
with no hope of the sun emerging before natural midnight at 1-00am. Disappointed
we turned in, just getting the last beam of sunlight at 12-15am (see right).
A rewarding day at Midnattsol Camping and Bleik village: after our late night of (almost)-Midnight
Sun watching, we moved to a fully beach-side position as the campsite
emptied, giving us a clear view for our planned day in camp looking out
across the white sands of the bay and the jagged mountain crest of Røyken
descending into the turquoise-blue sea towards the north (Photo
20 - Midnattsol Camping). To the south just out from the Bleik
breakwater, the amazingly conical rocky pyramid of Bleiksøya rose from the sea
forming an isolated nesting ground for 1000s of puffins (see left). This was one of the most perfect spots ever to
spend a day in camp, though with so many visual distractions little work was
done! At one point we looked up to see a small, sleek black animal, which could
only have been an otter, scuttle down the beach into the sea.
Around 4-00pm we gave up the pretence of working
and went for a wander along the beach towards Bleik village. Oyster catchers
were plodging in the waves and scampering across the sand (see right). The sun
was warm despite the still brisk northerly wind, and this beautiful 2km stretch
of white sands with its shallow, turquoise water was totally deserted; a
wonderful setting (Photo
21 - Bleik beach). We walked out along Bleik's southern breakwater which
enclosed the little harbour with its view of the
incredible pinnacle
of Bleiksøya silhouetted against the clear sky (Photo
22 - Conical rock of Bleiksøya) and to the south beyond a further
stretch of beach the outline of a jagged crested line of peaks descending to the
sea which sparkled in the afternoon sunshine (see below right) (Photo
23 - Andøya's mountainous coast in afternoon sun), a totally absorbing sea-scape. By
the time we were back round through Bleik village to the campsite, the wind had
picked up again and was blowing fiercely from the north. But the sky was still
clear and sun shining brightly.
A perfect Midnight Sun:
full of hope for a totally clear Midnight Sun from this perfect vantage
point looking out northwards, we watched the evening sun progress across the
bay, and the later evening dragged slowly as the sun gradually descended on its
shallow angle (Photo
24 - Evening sunlight).
At midnight clock time the sun was still quite high above the horizon and as
true midnight (1-00am - allowing for daylight saving time) approached, the sun's
orientation was confirmed by compass as exactly north. We walked over to the
deserted beach in the bright, almost eerie light of a clear Midnight Sun taking
our photos across the sea in the bitterly chill wind. The sun was still high
above the horizon, traversing its brief horizontal passage before beginning to
rise again for morning at 1-30am (clock time). Looking back southwards, Bleik
village was lit by the Midnight Sun's uncanny orange
luminescence
(Photo
25- Bleik village at 1-00am) and gulls
soared overhead similarly lit by its supernatural glow (see left). This was the
perfect Midnight Sun we had long waited to witness (see below right), one of the
most memorable experiences of our travels (Photo
26 - A perfect Midnight Sun), and weary but too thrilled to sleep we
returned to the camper at 2-00am with the bright sun still shining in through
the windows (see below left).
Andenes fishing port:
we woke late the following morning with the sky still clear and sun now high in
the eastern sky above the fragmented mountainous escarpment which towers over
Bleik. We should spend today in Andenes, the port at the northern tip of Andøya
but return later for a third night at Midnattsol Camping. A short distance north
of Bleik, a short tunnel gave Route 974 passage through the starkly jagged crest
of Røyken and just beyond a lay-by gave a magnificent view looking south along
Bleik Bay with its miles of mountain enclosed white sand beaches and the open
panorama of sea-scape looking out to the west. Just south of Andenes, the former
military rocket range now seemed to have branched out into the commercial
tourist industry, rebranded as a 'Space Centre' offering 'virtual space launch'
experiences doubtless at astronomical prices; we of course
passed by without
stopping. We did however pause at the straightforward and very acceptable Andenes
Camping just outside the town with its very reasonable prices, flat turfed camping
area and wonderful views along the north-west Andøya coast-line for Midnight Sun watching
(Photo
27 - NW Andøya coastline). On into the straggling township of Andenes,
we wove our way along the main street and turned down to the fishing harbour to
look out at the moored boats, fish-processing factories, swirling gulls and
mountainous backdrop
(Photo
28 - Andenes fishing harbour). The Royal Norwegian Air Force Andøya Air
base which also serves as a civil airport is stationed near to Andenes and is
one of the town's largest employers in addition to its fisheries and whaling
industries. But these days tourism in Andenes is big business: there's the
Northern Lights Centre (little more than a shed by the lighthouse), the Arctic
Nature Centre, the Polar Museum (we never did find that), and most unseemly of
all, the ubiquitously promoted Whaling Safaris cropping up at every turn.
Having
explored the fishing harbour (see right) and clambered around the rather
care-worn lighthouse with its magnificent view along the craggy coastline (see
below left), we ventured into the Whaling Centre, certainly not with the
intention of spending 100 NOK each (no senior's concessions) to see their
unremarkable exhibition but to seek more information about our sighting of a
whale off the coast at Å i
Lofoten.
Inside busloads of Italian and Russian tourists were queuing to part with
outrageous sums of money for the Whale Safaris. Staff were industriously engaged
on telephone bookings: "Yes there are still a few spaces left on the 3-00pm boat
..." etc etc; you could almost hear the ringing of the tills. This was
commercialised mass tourism on the massest of scales, utterly senseless and exploitational, and we stared with bemused fascination at this repulsive greed
as the kroners rolled. As well as alerting to the risks of sea sickness on the
Whale Safaris, the organisers guarantee their gullible clientele a sighting of
whales; the problem is that the safaris take place where the whales feed, in the
deepest waters down to 1000m at the edge of the continental shelf, the same sea
area where Norwegian whale hunters are also busily at work slaughtering the
unfortunate beast. Sometimes the salaciously gawping whaling-tourists are
treated to more than they had bargained for, with sightings not just of
whales but of butchery, causing more than just sea sickness! We managed to
distract one of the Whale Centre staff from raking in the lucre to ask about the
large, black dorsal fin we had sighted off the Lofotens; he confirmed it would
have been a Killer Whale which, although not intrinsically aggressive, get their
name from devouring every other form of sea creature in sight,
fish, seals, young porpoises, even sea birds. We had got the information we had
sought at the Whale Centre, and left the tourists handing over their money.
Around the harbour area a colony
of kittiwakes nested on the Rorbuer (fishing sheds) raucously screaming
at anyone who came near. We continued past another whale safari emporium round to the far side of the harbour to
find the ferry terminal for
tomorrow's onward crossing to Senja. A group of Italian tourists were just
returning from their whale watching looking none the wiser, but slightly
greener. for their expensive experience. Walking back we inadvertently disturbed
Arctic terns nesting by the waterside; the male birds fought us off viciously, buzzing
close overhead with aggressive clicking sounds. At the head of Andenes' main
street, a memorial commemorated a long list of local fishermen drowned at sea
during the 20th century; it was clearly still a hazardous industry. Having
shopped for supplies at the Rema 1000 supermarket, we returned to Midnattsol
Camping with a brisk wind still blowing but the sky clear. Conditions
were perfect for another Midnight Sun, but not even we had the stamina for
another 2-00am bedtime. We did sit up in the dazzling sun of the
everlasting daylight finally turning in at 12-20am unable to stay awake
longer
(Photo
29 - Another Midnight Sun).
Crossing to Gryllefjord on island of Senja: today we should
cross by ferry from Andenes to Gryllefjord on Senja, Norway's 2nd largest island
after Hinnøya, sorry finally to be leaving the Lofoten and Vesterålen islands
after a truly memorable 4 week stay. Midnattsol Camping had provided a suitably
rewarding climax (Photo 30 - Midnattsol Camping): the owner's hospitable and trusting manner had impressed us,
the setting at Bleik was magnificent, and the campsite's name
was genuinely apt given its perfect line of site for Midnight Sun watching. Long
should we remember our stay and thoroughly recommend Midnattsol Camping to
others.
At
Andenes we drove around to the ferry dock where just a couple of other vehicles
were queuing
(Photo
31- Ferry from Andenes). As the ferry was drawing in at 12-30pm, the
ticket girl came round and fares turned
out more expensive than expected at 593 NOK (£60) for the 1 hour 40 minute crossing. The car deck was less than half
full and we went aloft
to watch the departure from Andenes (see left) and while away the crossing in
the sheltered sunny lee of the aft-facing upper deck. The much-indented west
coast of Senja was precipitously mountainous (see right), and as the ferry
entered Torskenfjord on the approach to Gryllefjord, the village spread along
the fjord-side with its little fishing harbour and backdrop of snowy peaks
presented a truly magnificent spectacle (Photo
32 - Gryllefjord).
The drive around Senja's mountainous north
coast:
driving ashore at Gryllefjord, the little port area was full of vehicles queuing
for the return crossing to Andenes. We extricated ourselves from the bedlam, and
set off for the 80kms drive around Senja's northern coast, staggered at how
mountainous the island was. Route 86, the main road which snakes its way across
Senja, was little more than a single-track lane. The old road followed the shore
line all the way along the fjord-side but a new bridge had just been completed
part way along taking the road into a new tunnel through the opposite hillside
and linking up with the old road on the far side. The road turned NW along the
north coast passing what was once the fishing hamlet of Hama, now a glitzy
hotel
complex. Route 86 crossed the entrance to Straumbotn fjord on an attractive
suspension bridge, and just beyond we turned off onto Route 862, the minor road
which weaves its way around the digitated outline of Senja's northern coastline
and designated as a National Tourist Road for its spectacular topography. The
road immediately began to gain height into a cluster of the severest mountains we
had experienced this trip, covered with much snow and streaks of melt-water
pouring down the faces into a still partly frozen lake (see left) (Photo
33 - Mountainous Senja). Suddenly we had stepped from a shore-side
maritime world into the heart of wild Alpine mountains in the space of a few
kms. And ahead at the foot of the highest snow-covered peak, a tiny tunnel
portal led the road directly through the mountain massif (see right), to emerge
on the northern side into an equally Alpine world of overpoweringly high peaks (Photo
34 - Senja's mountains). A short distance further, an elaborately
cantilevered look-out
point gave panoramic views not only directly into the blue waters of Bergsfjord
(see below left) (Photo
35 - Bergsfjord)
but back into the cluster of Alpine peaks we had just tunnelled through
(Photo
36 - Mountain tunnel). Route 862 descended to fjord level and passed
along the shore to the village of Skaland where another short tunnel cut through
the peninsula's mountain shoulder. The road passed along a rocky shore-line
towered over by slab-faced mountains; we paused here to clamber over crystalline
water-side rocks to view the spectacularly jagged mountainous crest of Okshornan
stretching seaward across the bay, the pinnacles of which had projected above the
ice-sheet that had once covered and scoured Senja (Photo
37 - Okshornan crested ridge).
Around
Ersfjord, the road tunnelled through the next mountainous headland to turn along
the shore of Mefjord, clinging precariously to a narrow shelf along the
shore-line and
protected from rock-falls and winter snow by concrete shelters (see right).
After passing through a succession of 3 shorter tunnels bored through the
precipitous northern face of Breidtinden, Senja's 100m highest peak, the road
now rounded the sandy Mefjordbotn. A short climb over a lower watershed brought
us down to Stønnesbotn where the road to Botnhamn branched off for the ferry to
Tromsø via the island of Kvaløya. For details of this dramatic route around
Senja's northern coastline, click on Map 2 at top right of page.
Midnight Sun at
Fjordbotn Camping: we continued ahead and just around the head of the
fjord reached tonight's campsite, Fjordbotn Camping. For a straightforward
campsite prices were the highest we had paid in the north at 250 NOK, and the
facilities like the general environment were basic with a neglected air. The
setting however was magnificent looking out along the length of Stønnesbotn
Fjord and we settled in by the fjord-side. The northward line of sight from our pitch had
all the potential for a Midnight Sun, and despite our weariness after today's
stressful drive we whiled away the evening as the sun slowly declined across the
mountainous panorama before us. By midnight (clock time) it was transiting at a
shallow angle (see left), the line of which caused the sun to pass behind a
small conical peak
and
then to re-emerge partially on the far side (Photo
38 - Midnight Sun transit) to traverse
the top-line of a low ridge (Photo
39 - Midnight Sun transit). It cleared the ridge to shine fully in a
further gap along
the ridge (Photo
40 - Midnight Sun transit); the mountain sky-line produced the remarkable
phenomenon of a 3 phase transit of the Midnight Sun. The light was now brighter than ever, and
the birds including a cuckoo were still singing at 1-30am as the sun began its
morning re-ascent (see right).
Day in camp at Fjordbotn Camping: we
woke blear-eyed after another late night of Midnight Sun watching, but this
morning the sky was overcast with thin cloud. There was no wind and the air was
so unprecedentedly mild that we were able to sit out for breakfast for only the
second time this entire trip and enjoy fully this glorious fjord-side location
with its mountainous panorama (see below left) (Photo
41 - Breakfast at Fjordbotn Camping). The shore-side birdlife provided
day long entertainment: a greenshank waded in the shallows
(Photo
42 - Greenshank), oyster catchers perched on the rocks constantly
'peeping', and an unseen curlew echoed his 'kettle's boiling' crescendo call
across the fjord. More campers arrived early evening and we shared the very acceptable company of a lone Swede from Görteborg who pitched his
tent alongside us on the shore-side. Initially the evening looked promising for
another Midnight Sun as the wispy cloud dissipated; this gave us the dilemma as
to
whether weariness would tolerate a third late night. But around 11-00pm the
sun was extinguished in dense cloud and almost relieved we turned in.
Completing the crossing of Senja: the following morning the air was
totally windless with a hazy sun, and the un-rippled fjord was still with
mirror-like reflections of the back-drop of snow-covered mountains (Photo
43 - Fjord reflections). We continued around Senja's north-west coast
across gentle moorland passing farmsteads to the small port of Gibostad from
where a ferry service operated to Tromsø. Here the road turned south alongside
the narrow sound of Gisundet separating Senja from the mainland coast of Norway,
the skyline of which was dominated by bulky snow-covered mountains. Reaching the
island's main Route 86, we turned across the high arching bridge over the sound
to re-join the mainland. From the bridge's high point, we could see that the
north-bound Hurtigrute was just preparing to depart from its quay at Finnsnes,
and we hurried down into the town reaching the dock just as M/S Vesterålen,
one of the smaller vessels of the Hurtigrute fleet, pulled away from the quay
and disappeared northwards under the high arch of the Gisund Bridge
(Photo
44 - departing Hurtigrute) (see right).
Leaving Finnsnes, we now made our way back out to old
friend the
main E6 highway, which earlier in the trip had been our principal route up
through Norway. We had diverted from the E6 at
Ulsvåg out to Skutvik for our 4
week progression up through the Lofoten and Vesterålen archipelago, and now
rejoined this main road to resume our northward journey. The next couple of
weeks would take us to Tromsø, our favourite northern city, and on from there to
Nordkapp, Kjøllefjord and Berlevåg on the Barents Sea coast, and around Varanger
Fjord to the E6's
ultimate destination at Kirkenes. But more of that in the next edition which will be
published shortly.
Next edition
to be published quite soon
Sheila and Paul |
Published: 8 November 2014 |
|