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.