Stockholm

Near the beginning of our trip Chris introduced me to a point system he had adopted for rating foreign cities and countries. For example, as Chris disembarked from his train in Warsaw he almost tripped over a battered and bleeding man lying on the platform (-50 Poland). However all was forgiven later in the day when he discovered that a pint of beer in a pub cost less than a dollar (+100 Poland). We used this system extensively throughout Scandinavia. Stockholm consists of 14 beautiful islands, linked together by a network of bridges. Although public transport is pricey, the inner city has an excellent computerised bike hire system (+50 Stockholm). For less than A$5 per day you can pick up a bike anywhere in the city and drop it off anywhere else, as many times as you like, 24 hours a day. Having a bike is important as it offered a means of escape from the packs of tall, blond Swedish women that roam the streets, in search of unsuspecting foreigners (+500 Stockholm). We spent our first night in Stockholm with Maria and Anders, a Swedish couple I'd met in Quebec. They invited us to their apartment for a delicious dinner and we spent the evening chatting about Swedish politics, Haighs chocolate and travelling to the middle east. Their friendliness and generosity was typical of all the Swedes I met. I headed out the next day to find a camera store that could remove an annoying spot of dust removed from my camera (-10 DSLRs). A shop assistant went to the trouble of downloading and printing me a map for me (+20 Stockholm). Unfortunately, the directions on the map were completely wrong and had me walking in circles for about 20 minutes (-50) but when I did eventually arrive, they fixed my camera for free (+100). I had a great experience in a supermarket, while questing for Chocolate milk. The refrigerated section was filled with many weirdly shaped and bizarrely named products so I deciding to seek help. I asked a fellow shopper, "Excuse me, what is the Swedish word for chocolate milk" and he immediately stopped what he was doing and came over to join my quest. After a couple of minutes of fruitless searching I resigned myself to another evening drinking beer, thanked him for his help and headed to buy some. About 5 minutes later I was waiting in the checkout line with a slab of Fosters on each shoulder when the same helpful shopper jogged up to meet me with a carton of chocolate milk that was hidden in a different part of the store (+200). Another night Chris and I checked out some of the pubs on Sodermalm island. Later in the evening Chris decided it was time to gamble and headed back to the Casino to try his luck at the 25/50 NL Hold Them. Poker games certainly sound more impressive when they're quoted in SEK. I was chatting to some friendly local students and decided to stay at the pub. Eventually the Swedes and I headed to another pub and once the pubs started closing they invited me back to a fairly crazy but fun house party. Scandinavians certainly know how to drink. Apparently so does Chris, and I later found out he was denied entry to the Casino for 'being too drunk' (+1000, it's great to see some casinos still have standards). So on the patented CV/Wes point scale Stockholm scores extremely well. Friendly people, great restaurants, picturesque scenery and varied nightlife make it just about my favourite city in Europe.

The End of a Road Trip

After crossing the border back into Sweden the rest of our drive to Stockholm was disappointingly free of rock concerts, car crashes and bar lock-ins. Driving in Sweden was a relaxing change mostly because their roads are at least twice as wide as those in Norway. It's as if huge sections of Norwegian highway were transplanted across the border. The average 1 lane road had huge but unmarked shoulders wide enough to fit at least 3 more cars. Another peculiarity of the Scandinavian road system is the precision of their road signs, all of which are accurate to 0.1 of a kilometer. Reindeer crossing, next 0.4km - 3.6km stated one sign. Any reindeer caught crossing outside of this zone are no doubt captured and shipped directly to the north pole, where they're given stupid names and forced to drag around a fat man in a sleigh.

After 13 days and about 2700km on the road, we rolled in Stockholm and dropped our little Aygo back at the Hertz dealership. Although it wasn't the strongest performer uphill and took several minutes to get from 0 to 60, this did result in impressive fuel economy, despite the fact that Chris rarely took it above second gear. Driving a car which gets almost 20 kilometers to the litre is quite handy when each litre costs A$2.50.

Trondheim - My Life Behind Bar

Discounting the insane drivers and ridiculous prices, Trondheim was a fairly normal, prettier than average, university town. We stayed in a huge and modern university student center, full of bars, concert stages and restaurants. Despite being perhaps 5 stories high, the building didn't have floors in a traditional sense. Instead the rooms existed on more than 50 different "semi-levels" all linked together by a maze of corridors and stairs. During summer some of the larger rooms are converted into hostel style accommodation. Although our 40 person dorm was neither clean nor quiet and only had 1 working shower, the location was ideal. School term didn't start for a couple of weeks but many students had already begun their pre-orientation week orientation, (the technical term for "drinking at the student centre") so there were plenty of locals to befriend. On my most memorable night I headed out with Kristian, a Norwegian of distinguished musical taste, for a tour of the city's best pubs. A few pints later, the pubs started to close so we enjoyed a final beer at the world's worst 80's retro club and parted ways. I made it back to the student center at about 3am and rang the doorbell a few hundred times in an effort to rouse the "24 hour reception". After about 15 minutes i resorted to loud banging and yelling before finally deciding to find an alternative entrance. Just around the corner was a small open window about 6 feet above ground and, reasoning that the local law enforcement officers must have their hands full reversing after traffic offenders, I hoisted myself up and slid through sideways, flopping onto a couch about 9 feet below. The room I'd fallen into was one of the many private bars located throughout the center and although everyone had left, the evidence of a pretty solid party remained. Wandering out the door and into the maze of corridors I was dismayed to find that the only door which wasn't deadlocked led to a toilet. Dismay turned to a strange sense of contentment as it occurred to me that there are plenty of worse places to be trapped than inside a bar. After sampling a few of the more exotic spirits, snacking on some leftovers and checking my email on the bar's computer, I found a comfortable couch and fell asleep. When I awoke at about 10am and negotiated my release with people working in the offices next door, I got the distinct impression that spending the night inside a Norwegian bar isn't particularly uncommon.

The Road To Trondheim

After an early start and a 3 hour ferry ride, we continued South along the coastal road. After a week in Norway, even sheer cliffs rising several hundred meters straight out of the ocean become a little mundane. Passing past and then under a huge glacier in another 8km tunnel kept me interested. As we approached our destination - a tiny middle-of-nowhere campsite at 11pm - it became apparent that something wasn't quite right. Completely by accident, we'd stumbled upon the main event of a week long Northern Norwegian rock festival which was being held IN our campsite. Tickets were available, but only at Norwegian prices so we wandered up to watch from just outside the gates. Within 5 minutes a local invited us into a caravan for some beers. Details from the rest of the night are sketchy but I'm pretty sure Beer, Jaegermeister and Moonshine were all heavily involved. Chris had wisely chosen to leave the party early, so when I stumbled back to the car at 8am he was ready to take up the driving duties. Although he assures me we were only close to crashing a couple of times, I spent the whole trip passed out with a jumper wrapped around my head, so I'm unable to corroborate his story. I was feeling well enough by 4pm to take a driving shift and we swapped back about an hour out of Trondheim. Although Chris was an enthusiastic and competent high speed driver (literally pumping his fist the first time we entered a 110 zone), he did start to exude an aura of tension whenever complicated maneuvers were required (such as slowing down) or when other cars made any sudden movements (for example turning). It didn't help that the drivers in Trondheim were completely insane. On no less than 3 occasions we saw drivers reverse rapidly along a main street into heavy traffic. One of them was driving a public bus. Surrounded by maniacs and without any idea of our location, Chris reverted back to his primal instinct - driving fast. He sped through a pedestrian crossing almost running over a cyclist, plowed through a roundabout and took a sharp left turn directly into the setting sun. Being blinded by the sun didn't diminish his need for speed, although it did prevent him from noticing the red traffic light until the last second. He brought the car to a halt a couple of meters over the line and I had just enough time to turn to him and comment on his excellent driving before one of the crazy Norwegians locked up his brakes and slammed into the back of us at about 30km/h. It was only Aunli's 3rd accident of the year, which is probably quite good by Norwegian standards. Nevertheless, if any Trondheim crash repairers are reading, from their private jet or Monaco summer house, I'm prepared to pass on his address and phone number for a small percentage of future repairs. Although his car was quite a mess, only the back panels of our car were damaged and it was fortunately still drivable. The only physical injury I sustained was minor whiplash which sorted itself out in a few days. "I feel a bit lightheaded" commented Chris. "Maybe you should drive?"

Norway - Lofoten Islands

We rolled off the ferry and onto the Lofoten Islands late in the evening, with no accommodation booked. A few phone calls later Chris had arranged a room in the house of an elderly Norwegian couple about a hundred kilometers south. The old guy waited out the front for us to arrive, charged us practically nothing for the room (A$50) and the next morning spread the best breakfast I've ever had. A ten foot table layered with enough food to feed a small army. From obscure smoked fish and something that looked like caviar to garden fresh berries and home made jam to ham, cheese and eggs cooked as we liked. Stumbling upon a randomly great experience like that vindicates my disorganisation.

A couple of hours drive and another short ferry crossing got us to the small coastal town of Stamsund and we spent the next 4 nights there at a hostel right beside the water. Rowboats were available free of charge, but strong currents and a general lack of coordination ensured that Chris and I never made it very far. Chris returned to the hostel and undertook a different kind of 'boat race', while I convinced a Dutchman to join me on a hike up a nearby mountain in time for sunset (ie. midnight). Although the path was well marked, it was steep, exposed and at one point only a foot wide as it bridged near vertical 200m drops on both sides. It was approximately this point that my Dutch friend decided to turn back. Soon after reaching the summit I was joined by one of Norway's top sport hunters who had literally run up the mountain as a training exercise. He congratulated me on a good climb and casually mentioned that a German woman had slipped off the mountain to her death a couple of years ago. Stories like that have a higher shock value when it's midnight and you're 600m up a rugged mountain. I made a small note to that effect in the summit's guestbook, said a few final prayers and headed carefully back down to the hostel. Our hostel was run by an eccentric Norwegian and like most it was full of interesting people. A group of German dentists provided some classic one liners, none of which are suitable for this pg rated blog. I was rules-lawyered at cards by French girls and had to resort to cheating in order to win. We even met some friendly Italians! The weather turned sour for the next couple of days, with thick cloud and constant rain making the whole place pretty gloomy. Although magnificent in summer, I don't envy people who have to live here all year round. Cyril, A french engineering student, got a lift with us to a campsite on a northern beach. It didn't take an engineer to work out that it wouldn't be so much 'camping' as 'parachuting' and he wisely chose to return with us to the shelter of the hostel. We awoke to better weather, which inspired Chris to actually leave the hostel for a non internet/beer related activity. Climbing the southern island's highest peak took us about 4 hours and we even found a rogaine checkpoint at the top. Although the weather was overcast and slightly hazy, the views were still pretty good. Rain washed out our final full day although we did check out Henningsvaer a quaint fishing village built around a series of canals. The next morning we awoke early, crammed our luggage and a Swiss hitchhiker into the Aygo and drove another hundred magnificent kilometers along the Lofoten coast to catch the mainland ferry.

Norway - Senja Island

The next morning we commenced our drive south along the Norwegian coast. Although the road surfaces were good, they were often barely wide enough to fit one car, despite notionally supporting traffic in both directions. Fortunately, the Norwegians were smart enough to include regular 'passing lanes' so two cars could actually drive past one another.

The coastal road curled around fjords, through mountains (the Norwegians REALLY love tunnels) and incorporated several ferry crossings. The ferries were all large and took between 10 minutes and 3 hours. Although the driving was stressful at times, it would be impossible to see the amazing coastal scenery any other way. I set a new personal best taking 240 photos in a single day. This isn't even including the 500 or so that I took and then deleted right away. Anyone who's has ever shared a car with ChrisV can appreciate that he's a strong and enthusiastic singer. His specialty is dance music and he'll often doot/bleep along even if there aren't any lyrics. Sadly, he does however suffer some slight vocal limitations, primarily his inability to generate a tone even vaguely similar to the track he's 'singing'. Anyone planning to share a car with CV in the future would be wise to make a contribution to my "CV singing lessons fund" or perhaps my more expensive but effective "CV vocal chord removal operation" fund. After a long days driving, including 37 photos stops, 2 ferry crossings, a 7.4km tunnel, 2,900 doot/bleeps, 172m of mountain climbing and a stopover at the worlds largest troll (it's only a matter of time before a remote Australian town decides to build a bigger one) we made it to the Lofoten ferry.

Norway - Tromsø

After dropping Alana and Lauren at the train station, Chris and I crossed the border into Norway and headed north to Tromsø, the most northerly university town in the world and also the most northerly point of our trip. Tromsa is mainly located on an island and is unique in a couple of ways. Firstly it has absolutely no street signs (we had to follow a bus to find our hostel) and also no strict road rules. The locals preferred a "Law of the Jungle" approach to right of way, where the car that 'wanted it the most' got it. Given we were driving a small plastic Toyota I ceded all rights and settled for driving very slowly. Also impressive was the ridiculous price of everything. A non-imperial pint set us back A$13 while an adequate thai restaurant had mains starting at A$30. It's amazing how good peanut butter on bread starts to taste when all the alternatives will send you broke. Unable to afford much else, I dragged Chris out to hike a mountain just north of the city. Despite his whining, the fairly gentle track, which was actually a cross country skiing route 9 months of the year, provided spectacular views. On our last night we got some more great views of the almost-midnight sun from our hostel balcony whilst drinking warm cider and attempting to play backgammon. I'm not even going to bother with photos - you have to go up there and see it for yourself!

Norway - Narvik

The next day was Lauren's Birthday and she was rewarded with some truly spectacular weather. It would've been better if she'd been born a couple of days earlier. Bright blue skies completely transformed countryside we were cursing just 24 hours prior, into something magnificent. Alana and Lauren took the train while Chris and I drove from Abisko to Narvik, stopping every few minutes to take photos. The girls met us in Narvik and we snacked on meatballs and potatoes before driving out to our first fjord. The Norwegian countryside sparkled in the great weather as we explored the banks of the fjord, stopped for a picnic lunch on a huge section of flat granite, climbed down to a waterfall and at the Birthday Girl's insistence, frolicked in some purple flowers. It was good to actually have photogenic weather for a change. While stopping to take one final group photo, I managed, very uncharacteristically, to trip over a road barrier and landed shin first on its sharp, metal edge. Despite the whole accident practically happening in slow motion, I carved a huge chunk of skin off the front of my knee, leaving me in significant pain, a state of shock and dripping with blood. Things were about to get a whole lot worse as my injury left ChrisV in charge of the driving. Having acclimatised to right-side driving in Canada, I had no trouble driving out little Toyota, despite the fact it was a right hand shift manual. Chris on the other hand, had a few problems, primarily with the windscreen wipers which came on the first 20 or 30 times he approached a corner. After 15km of straight highway, his first corner was almost our last. Deciding at the last minute to turn right, he braked, engaged the wipers, cursed loudly and hooked into the left hand lane, straight into the path of an oncoming car. Both drivers jammed on the brakes, narrowly averting disaster. The look on the other drivers face as the two cars sat bumper to bumper, was pure gold. Cruising around a subsequent bend he commented that "this feels more like playing a video game than driving a real car" which didn't exactly inspire confidence, although I he achieved a high score this time by getting us all back to Abisko safely. I was able to distract myself looking out at the spectacular midnight twilight. We said goodbye to the girls the next day, Alana was headed to New York and San Francisco for some maths seminars while Lauren was back to Holland and her beloved Joost (who was mentioned so many times during the hike that he really felt like part of the group). Many thanks to both of them for a fantastic trip. You'll be hearing more of ChrisV's driving exploits soon!

Hiking The Kungsleden

The Kungsleden or King's Trail stretches south from Abisko for about 400km, with well maintained hostels located every 15 to 20km. We planned to hike 75km of the northern trail over 4 days and although the hostels provided comfortable beds, cooking facilities and occasionally saunas, showers weren't part of the deal. Hiking in the far north during summer is an amazing experience because it is literally light 24 hours a day. Even a month after the solstice, the sun dipped below the mountains only briefly, replacing night with a surreal pink twilight. We made the most of the midnight sun, setting out at 2pm on our first day. Flat terrain, great weather and high spirits saw us reach the first hut quickly and I managed to convince (or perhaps trick) everyone into continuing onto the second, which was nestled at the foot of the mountains. We made it there just after midnight, having traversed 37km of picturesque countryside. Although I was still feeling olympic, the rest of my team were suffering. Chris was complaining about blisters and devastated that the hostels only sold light beer. Lauren, having brought enough fresh fruit and vegetables to last several months, was struggling under the weight and although Alana never complained, her otherwise excellent hiking boots had been indirectly responsible for a large blister on her heel. We decided we could afford the luxury of a rest day and spent it lazing around the hostel. In the evening Chris, Alana and I headed to the sauna and attempted the plunge - from 70 degree sauna to 5 degree lake. This plan was partially foiled by the steep, slippery 20m path to the lake which ensured we were already quite cold by the time we got there. At least it was like a bath. The next 8km of trail were the most scenic of our trip, winding through a valley between steep mountains, past glaciers and pockets of snow (Wes 1 : Alana 0). We stopped for lunch at a waterfall and watched as the weather turned from overcast to rainy. The final 10km were slow going, along a boggy, bug infested riverbed in the pouring rain and even I was glad when we finally reached shelter. We had arranged to meet up with a local speedboat driver who offered a ferry service to the nearby town of Nikkaluokta, shortening our hike by 12km. Unfortunately we'd arranged to meet by 1230 at a point 20km from our hostel, further along the boggy, bug infested riverbed. We awoke at 0530 and noted with excitement that it had rained all night and didn't look like stopping anytime soon. After a quick breakfast and a few prayers to the rain gods, we began the long trudge. Two days of rain had turned the vegetated sections of the trail into mush, while the rocky parts were more like small rivers. Things got a little hairy on a couple of occasions as we waded across small streams that had been turned into raging rivers by the torrential rains. The rain eased during the mid morning which allowed us to increase speed and arrive at the meeting place right on time, just as even heavier storm clouds rolled back in. Dripping wet, we boarded the speedboat for the coldest 40 minutes of my life. Frigid winds left Chris and I huddled together in the middle of the boat, while the girls were fairly sheltered at the front. I was still shivering 15 minutes later and it took about 30 minutes in the bathroom with warm water and a hand drier to thaw me out completely. At this point we discovered our bus had already left so we split into pairs and hitchhiked to Kiruna. Alana and I were picked up by a elderly Swedish couple who took us right to the centre of town while Chris and Lauren independently found their way to the "only car rental company in town," without too much trouble. We picked up our tiny rental car (Toyota Aygo) and drove back north to Abisko for hot showers and victory celebrations. Not the most enjoyable hike ever, but at least it was memorable!