Europe Blog Part 2
The bike wouldn’t start. It was the same sound as
before, “Ticka.” We tried a push start but the rear wheel just skidded, no
matter which gear I used. I tried a ‘battery reset’ by disconnecting, pausing
and reconnecting the negative lead. It worked, the bike ran normally. Maybe the
ignition was wet. It had happen each time after several days of riding in the
rain. I vowed to get it looked at by a dealer.
Our presentations went well. There were lots of
questions and people seemed to appreciate all the photos and stories. The
Adventure Bike TV games were fun. It was inspiring to rub shoulders with over four
hundred enthusiastic people. Some were seasoned travellers and some attended
sessions to get inspired and prepared for their first big trip. We met many
people, including Phil and Catherine from near Dover, Timothy from Dinglem,
Ireland. We received invitations to stay with people all over the British
Isles.
Rain was forecast for the next two weeks in the UK.
There had already been reports of flooding throughout the south of England. We
decided to cross back over the Channel where the weather was more favorable.
A House Near the Mill House in Woolstone
We stopped into Cotswold BMW on the way to Woolstone.
The Service department offered little help, saying it was probably water in the
switch. They were swamped with business and couldn’t look at it for at least a
week. The bike had behaved normally for several days in a row. We simply
carried on to Woolstone.
The Map of Woolstone
The White Horse Inn in Woolstone served us a tasty
lunch. We asked our server about the Mill House but she said she was not from
around there. She did show me a hand drawn map of the village. I photographed
it. Isabelle and I set off on foot to find the place. It wasn’t long before I
was looking at the front of a house that looked familiar but wasn’t shaped
quite right.
The Mill House and Front Garden
We met the Gardener who was named Louis. He walked
over to his pick-up truck where Isabelle and I were standing. His gait was as
gentle as his voice. I introduced myself and asked, “I wonder if you could help
me please. I’m looking for the Mill House.”
“Well that’s it right there,” Louis answered,
pointing at the red brick building.
“I thought it might be. I lived in the Millhouse for
two years as a small boy. My memory of it is not completely clear. The house
looks different, was there an addition put on it?”
Louis asked, “When were you here?” He looked quite
interested in my story.
“It was from 1962 until ’64,” I answered.
“That part on the right was added in the 70’s. If
you look closely the brick doesn’t quite match.”
“Yes, I see that. Is there a pond at the back?”
“Yes.”
“And does the stream that drains it run along the
far side of the house?” I was getting pretty excited. This had to be it!
“Yes, there is a little trail that leads up that
side of the house to the pond at the back.”
“This must be it then! That lower section of the
house, in the middle there, was the mill room. The water could be diverted to
flow through there to drive the wheel.”
The Mill House
Louis said, “The owners kept the old millstone and
installed it along the walkway as a paving stone, I’ll show you.” Louis led us toward
the left corner of the house, over to the path. He pointed out the old mill
stone along the way and led us up to the pond at the back of the house. Ancient,
foggy memories struck in succession as we walked. It was a strange experience.
The Mill Pond
Louis was almost as thrilled as I was upon identifying
the Mill House. I complimented him on his work in the garden. It was truly
wonderful. I took photos and we chatted about the garden some more until it was
time to go. It was a happy visit; even the sun came out for it.
The ferry to Dunkirk was interesting because of
Dunkirk’s extensive harbour. It was hard to imagine the stress and suffering
the 400,000 trapped troops, literally with their backs to the sea, must have
felt as they awaited evacuation. Sixty thousand didn’t make it off the beaches
and harbour in May and June of 1941. They were either killed or captured by the
800,000 German troops. We rode into Belgium to an expensive campsite. We were learning
how to cope with the damp and cold.
Summer arrived the next morning and the temperature
rose to 27degrees. Trucks and traffic jams, even in the countryside, filled our
day as we rode north through Holland. We found an excellent campground near Eindhoven
that operated as a corporate retreat training centre. The atmosphere was great.
The internet was first rate and I downloaded lots of Google off-line maps.
German roads were near perfect, the rest stops
immaculate. Isabelle described a roadside restaurant as worthy of a Date Night.
The sun shone all day. A Dutch motorcyclist approached us saying, “You are
world travellers, aren’t you?” He was very interested in our travel story. It
was the first time someone had approached us with curiosity. In South America
this happened almost every time we stopped. In Colombia and Argentina people
stuck their heads out of car windows at red lights asking, “Where are you from?
Is Canada always cold and snowy? How fast will it go?” Then they shouted,
“Suerte! Buen Viaje!” The sun set later than it had for us the previous night,
10:30 and began to rise at 4am.
We crossed from Germany into Denmark and landed in
Middlefart, Denmark at camping time. Danish people seemed happy and calm. They
smiled and didn’t sound angry when they spoke. We met Pierre from Paris on a
Honda 500 street bike. He was a young man, 28 years old, riding the same loop
as us but he planned to do it in a quarter of the time. Isa and I had a nice
walk on the shores of the Baltic Sea. It was a relief to be away from the few severe seeming,
impatient people we had encountered that day.
Isabelle got up at 3:30 and saw the sun beginning to
rise. On the opposite horizon she saw a half moon that brightly lit the whole
sky. Just at that a moment a shooting star grabbed her attention. She looked
around for the Northern Lights just in case that moment was going to be
perfectly magical.
Copenhagen
The road into Copenhagen was excellent. The girl at
the campground reception desk was very helpful. She spoke in perfect English
and said she was planning to visit Canada for a year on a working visa. She
recommended a half day walk that included the main park in Copenhagen. Besides
trees, lakes and a family of elephants we saw the Copenhagen Philharmonic Orchestra
rehearsing on an outdoor stage. There were plenty of families already there but
the real show was scheduled to begin at 9 pm. We had arrived on the day that the
birth of Saint John the Baptist was celebrated in many parts of the world. Like we had seen many times in
South America, Catholic and local traditions had been combined. In the Danish
case at that juncture, a witch burning combined with fertility traditions to
banish bad luck and welcome good fortune. The witch was only an effigy but it would
be cheered on by hundreds of families that night. A real witch hadn’t been
burned in Denmark for quite a long time. Before that, at least one thousand of
them met their end in flames at the stake.
Just an Effigy This Time
We saw Danes walking and riding bicycles, smiling
and laughing on a Sunday afternoon. Danes we saw that day seemed to be less inclined to be
grumpy, rigid rule followers than a few of their southern neighbors had been. They also seem to
be happier. Half of them walk or cycle to work. They have a very high GDP per
capita ratio and a similarly high life expectancy. They are said to be some of
the happiest people in the world despite very long and dark winters. Bragging
rights for top national happiness rates get regularly passed around between
Denmark, Norway and Canada.
We rented bicycles on our second day in Copenhagen.
A forty minute ride into the city centre got us to the meeting place for the
walking tour. We saw the old port with its picturesque and classic Copenhagen
scenes. Thousands of tourists moved about what used to be a dangerous port full
of pirates and prostitutes.
The new Opera House resembled the stern of a ship
on the harbor front. The Marble Church was circular and smaller inside
than expected. One felt confined yet somehow comforted within it. Up from its
circular base rose curved marble walls that supported a marble dome above. We
saw the famous statue of Hans Christian Anderson’s, The Little Mermaid next to
the harbor. In Anderson’s story the mermaid doesn’t get the Prince. He has a
country to run so he lives happily ever after with a sensible wife while the
mermaid commits suicide in despair.
We learned much on our tour about Danish society and
modern history. Their economy and philosophies are much like those of Canada
even though there are only 6 million Danes compared with Canada’s population of
37 million. People are encouraged to walk, bike or take transit by a 150% tax
on all cars. Copenhagen hopes to be a carbon neutral city by 2024. They have a
constitutional democratic monarchy. King Christian managed to save the lives of
almost all of Denmark’s 7000 Jews during the Nazi occupation. Toward the end of
the war Danish resistance to the occupation grew. About three thousand Danes
lost their lives through fighting in the resistance or in the military. We saw
the Tivoli Gardens which inspired Walt Disney in the creation of his theme
parks.
A couple of days later we rented a nice little
apartment outside Stockholm, Sweden through Airbnb. We took the train into the
city centre. We met our Guide, Mathew along with an English tourist couple at
the Royal Palace. Mathew asked us if we had heard about the rivalry that still
exists between Denmark and Sweden. Ikea named its furniture pieces after
Swedish cities. Toilet brushes and door mats, bearing names in Danish, are the
only exceptions to this naming practice.
Old Stockholm City
Guard at the Royal Palace
Mathew told us about the “Bloodbath”
inflicted on the Sweden’s elite by King Charles of Denmark. Charles occupied
Stockholm for two years. He gave a party for Stockholm’s Royals and
aristocrats, much like the Red Wedding in Game of Thrones (possibly the
inspiration?). When everyone was good and drunk Charles brought them one by one
into the plaza for the removal of their heads. Blood was said to have flowed
from the plaza into the surrounding neighborhoods.
Old Stockholm
New Stockholm, the Subway
Safety First
George, later Saint George to the Swedes, was not at
the party. He escaped Stockholm, gathered an army and returned to drive
Charles out of the Swedish capital. Our guide Mathew showed us a statue of
Saint George on horseback slaying the dragon that was King Charles to free the
princess that was Stockholm. Officially neutral during the Second World War,
Sweden continued to trade steel with the Nazi’s and ball bearings with Great
Britain for profit.
St. George Slays the Dragon in Stockholm
Today was Mum’s 90th birthday. Isabelle
and I had a nice long video chat with her.
In Oslo, Norway we learned that university was free
for all, regardless of nationality. The Nobel Peace prize is awarded annually in
Oslo. North Sea oil and gas, discovered in 1969, bring tremendous wealth to the
country of just 5.2 million people. Our guide, Christian from Spain was trying
to make a go of it in Norway. He said that Norwegians seemed reluctant to give a
job to a foreigner. He spoke of overt racism. We have seen few brown or black
people throughout Scandinavia. Stockholm seemed to have the highest number.
The Oslo Opera House
Everything seemed modern and of the latest
technology in Oslo. There were USB ports at each seat on public busses. Screens gave bus arrival predictions and other route information at each stop. The new opera house
at the harbor-front was impressive. It was designed to resemble an iceberg
rising from the sea. Norway’s government was spending huge amounts on
infrastructure. Extensive and expensive tunnel and bridge-works can be found
throughout the country. The government says it is saving for when the oil dries
up, so far 165,000 Euros per person. Norway seems filled with wild spending,
understandable when your wallet is big. One can only imagine the difficulty
future generations will have when it comes time to adopt a more prudent
expenditure pattern after decades of spending like we saw in Norway.
Village Churchyard
Waterfall on the Way to Bergen
Highland Hut
Highlands near Stavanger
The weather changed as we rode west from Oslo. The
temperature dropped and it began to rain. The mountains in the middle of Norway
were clouded and rugged. Though not very high the air was chilled to just 3
degrees at the highest elevations. At one point we took the old road and
avoided a tunnel. Rugged, remote beauty was all around us for 20 kilometers. At
the end of the following day a short ride after a ferry across a fjord brought
us to Preikestolen Campground. It was expensive and spare but it was near the
trailhead of the hike we had planned for the next day.
Cold and Tired in the Highlands
The Preikestolen hike rose steeply in a two hour
climb. Our old bodies complained but continued to cooperate. The dramatic views
over Lysebotnfjord were our reward. They truly stunning and were why we had
come to Norway. It was cold and rainy for most of the hike but the sun came out
at just the right moment – when we reached “Pulpit Rock”. It overlooked lengthy
Lysebotnfjord almost a thousand meters below.
Lysebotnfjord
Preikestolen (Isa is in yellow poncho.)
On the third of July we saw much beautiful scenery
but we ran into some bad luck. The day’s groceries were surprisingly expensive
and the ferry to the “Little Trolltunga” hike would make us wait 6 hours. We
decided to ride around the fjord instead but then we couldn’t find camping. We
settled in the cold drizzle for a very expensive, cold place (figuratively and
literally). The place had few services and they were not well cleaned. The
day’s scores were: 26 tunnels, 2 suspension bridges and 1 ferry.
Elegant and Expensive
Impressive Infrastructure in the Hinterland
A good sleep brought back our good humour and the
next campsite near Bergen was much better. More experience with camping location
apps on the phone helped us to be choosier. There was a laundry room, a full
kitchen, a TV room with couches and 4 tables and chairs! All this was inside,
out of the rain. The next day’s riding was through picturesque little villages
on skinny roads. The score was 26 tunnels, 5 suspension bridges and 1 ferry. The longest tunnel was over 8
kilometers long. It went deep under a fjord and up the other side.
Bergen
Bergen Harbour
We parked for free in a motorcycle parking area in
the centre of Bergen. The huge chain and lock from England gave us peace of
mind. The other bikes were not protected as well as ours and would likely be
stolen first! We started our visit of Norway's second largest city with a ride up the Floibanen Funicular where we enjoyed a panoramic view of the harbour in the fjord. The Bryggen Medieval
Village was a UNESCO World Heritage site. It is a reconstruction of the crowded
wooden tenements that would have been occupied by fishing boat laborers almost
a thousand years ago.
Crowded Tenements
Privileged Space
We ate lunch at the famous fish market on Bergen’s
wharf. The Bergenhus Fortress Museum had excellent displays of Norway’s
military history. There was an entire section devoted to WW2 resistance
efforts. Many Norwegians lost their lives gathering and sending information
about occupying German troops to British authorities. UN Peace Keeping
campaigns were also featured. An enthusiastic and proud curator greeted us at
the door. He eagerly described the layout of the exhibits. His professionalism
and pride reminded us of Marty Lane’s dedication to the GGFG Regimental Museum
back home.
The New Packing System, Light and Nimble (Metal top boxes are empty. They are used to store helmets)
Near Alesund
On the Road to Geiranger
The ride from Bergen took us half way to Geiranger.
The route was very interesting. It ran over high mountain passes and through
valleys with fast flowing rivers. The day’s score was 30, 2, 1 and the longest
tunnel was 5 kilometers. Tunnels 21 and 22 were a little unnerving. They had
tight turns, no lights and were under renovation. Our campsite was idyllic
beside a flowing river in the late evening sunlight. We stayed an extra day in
that beautiful spot while prepared the first blog posting.
Inspiration for Writing
A short ride brought us to Hjelle, Innvikfjorden
campground. There was a tremendous view down the fjord from our tent. Paulius,
a fellow moto-traveller, joined us setting up his tent near ours. We shared tea
and our food while getting to know each other a little. Paulius is a Lithuanian
who works in logistics (trucking) and has one child. His wife is expecting
their second child in a few months. He let me try his Yamaha 660 Tenere.
Innvikfjorden
We said goodbye to Paulius in the morning before he
rode away. He was going in the same direction we were but he planned to stop in
a different place that night.
Paulius
Geirangerfjord from Dalsnibba Mountain Plateau
Dalsnibba Mountain Plateau Lookout was fun to reach.
Tight switchback turns reminded us a little of the roads we had ridden in South
America. The big difference was the roads in Norway were beautifully paved and
easy to ride. The lookdown view of Geirangerfjord took in the surrounding
mountains as well as a cruise ship docked at the village of Geiranger. We had
lunch in a quiet little restaurant I had read about. It too had spectacular
look-down views into Geirangerfjord. The food was as excellent as the view was.
We shared traditional waffles with strawberry jam and sour cream inside for
desert.
View from the Restaurant
Geiranger Fjord Incongruity (Ship Surrounded by Mountains)
Geiranger Village
The afternoon’s ride took us along the famous
“Trollsteigen” route. This iconic ride is on many riders’ European bucket
lists. It really was a spectacular ride. We stopped countless times for photos.
Stigfossen (falls) was unfortunately backlit by the time we got there so I was
unable to bag a decent shot of it. We camped at Trollsteigen Resort, right
beside Paulius again! That evening he and I chatted for a long time after
Isabelle went to bed.
Herders' Huts in the Highlands
Trollstigen Route
Look Back from the Climb to Dalsnibba
Dalsnibba Greeter
Intersecting Glacial Valleys
Stigfossen (Falls)
Steig and Cecilia chatted with us at a picnic table
over lunch the next day. Steig was born in Lofoten and had much good advice for
us. The Lofoten Islands were the next big stop for us. The region laid several
days ride north and required an expensive, 4 hour ferry to reach from the
south. We enjoyed sunshine throughout that day.
On July 12th we passed over the Arctic
Circle. A stop at the “Arctic Circle Centre” was fun. We took photos and bought
a sticker for the bike. The campground near Fauske had both panoramic and
overlooking views of Skjerstadfjord.
The ferry to the Lofoten Archipelago took four and a
half hours and the crossing was smooth on the huge ship. We spent two wonderful
days exploring the southern part of the islands. A hike overlooking the remote
fishing village called Reine was made easier by the addition of stone steps.
The Norwegian government had hired Nepalese Sherpas to construct a stone
staircase up the steep slope. Impressive views of the village below were the reward for almost two hours of hiking to the top. It was worth every step.
Reine, Lofoten Islands
Reine
Harbour Detail
Far Off Village
Sherpa Staircase
My notes said one of the things to do on Lofoten’s
islands was to try Stock fish Soup. It was our first meal after getting off the
ferry and it was delicious. Everywhere on the islands were outdoor drying
racks, some filled with hanging fish some empty. Fishing families went to Lofoten
and gathered mostly codfish from the sea during the four moths of January until
April. They processed then hung the fish on drying racks in the chilled air.
The fish froze just enough to prevent them from spoiling. It slowly dried to become perfectly preserved without the use of salt. Birds left the drying fish alone,
preferring fresh food.
Drying Stockfish (without salt)
Pick Me! Pick Me!
Lamp in Reine Restaurant
Throwing Entrails to the Birds
Ramberg Harbour
Low Tide Outside Ramberg Harbour
Midnight Bathroom Run in Ramberg
The Viking Museum was our last stop on Lofoten Archipelago.
A huge longhouse had been constructed on a site where numerous Viking artefacts
had been unearthed by a local farmer. Animators provided live demonstrations of
Viking spinning, cooking and leatherwork.
Animator at Viking Museum: Leatherwork
Animator at Viking Museum: Spinning Thread
Animator at Viking Museum: Cooking
Who Let This Guy In?
We had visited Ushuaia, two years
earlier in Argentinian Patagonia, the most southerly point reachable by road. The ride northward toward
Nordkapp, the most northerly point reachable by road would become increasingly
cold. Our window of opportunity to visit it on motorbikes was narrow. We had
little time to lose.
