Hanstholm - Kristiansand - Søgne (Åros)

Weather: hot, sunny, ~30°

Kilometers on bike: 38 km

7:00 - Out of the sleeping bag, you lazy git! Having a wash and getting freshly baked rundstykker from the campsite’s shop. But first I am packing because I have to be at the ferry check-in at 9:30. A few minutes to nine I got everything on my bike, pay at the reception with the beautiful lady and I am on my way down to the harbour. Interestingly, the way felt a lot longer yesterday.

A few minutes after 9:30 I am at the check-in. Well, I get waved through all the cars and enter the Fjordcat’s maw. Deep inside I get the honour to park my bike next to a horde of motorcycles - I am the only on on a normal bike. Somehow I think I must be crazy because I didn’t see any other bikers like me.

A bit disappointed that you obviously cannot enjoy the sun on the outer deck. Must be because this is a high speed ferry. 10:20 the ferry leaves the harbour. Somehow I get the suspicion Fjordline only employs models. I use the time to add notes to my travellogue and wonder when we will arrive. 11:40 and already half of the distance. Sadly, the Skaggarak is very smooth… blue sea, blue sky…

We arrive at 12:20 in Kristiansand. Still blue sky, the sun is shining and its hot! I am in Norway. Well, I though it could have been a little less hot up here. My first impression of Kristiansand: somewhat ugly town. I relax a bit and watch how the Norwegians behave in the traffic. I am looking for the tourist information, but it isn’t at the place my Lonely Planet indicates. I ask at a kiosk. First contact! She understand me and I understand her! She points me into the right direction and a few minutes later, I am at the tourist information. At least I get a map of Kristiansand and a brochure about the Nordsjøveien.

Ok, it’s now my turn to find the way out of Kristiansand. That’s not easy because the signs on the combined pedestrians- and cycle-paths is more than bad. A few times I am following the wrong direction. Somehow I get the impression the Norwegian build cycle-paths with “sense and reason”.

Time to get another source: I get my copy of “Norwegen per Rad” out of my bags. I should follow the E39 and later on the R456 and then the R457. Ok, hard time finding any road signs indicating if this really is the R456. I arrive at a pretty boat harbour and have a break. A few swans are swimming there. Are these valkyrjar?

A long while later I find a cycle sign showing me the way to Flekkerøya. Nice! I don’t know that place, but at least it’s a cycle path and a direction. Well, my inner alarm bells should have rang - øy = island. On the way I invade a supermarket and get some fresh drinks. I also get some cinnamon giflar. Short break. The sun is mercilessly burning down on me. Up and down. A very sporting looking Norwegian woman with very light clothing on a mountainbike passes by. Her helmet is hanging from the side of her bike. A few road bends later, I see her again, standing on the cyclepath. Well, that’s not all. I also see a big dark maw in a rock. Ouch, a tunnel. I didn’t expect a tunnel on my current route. I heard a lot of horror stories about Norwegian tunnels. And yes, they are true!

The woman puts on her helmet, turns on the lights and valiantly rides straight into the tunnel. I am standing a bit undecided before the entrance. The tunnel has a length of 2300 m, is dimly lit and obviously air-conditioned. Last view of my surroundings, no other way to go around the tunnel? Obviously not. I put on my helmet, turn on the light and utterly fearless I venture in the maw of the tunnel, sending prayers to all known and unknown gods. It’s getting down… My thoughts tumble in my mind… the speedometer shows 30… 40… 50… 60… 70 km per hour… 30 kilograms of baggage feel so light, but at 70 km/h the bike begins to get a bit shaky… I am flying… and somehow the tunnel feels threatening. Wait, the sign said a gradient of ten percent? Too late I realise I have to get up the same gradient on the other side. Norwegians build v-shaped tunnels! It’s getting up again. Now I am felling the weight of my baggage. I barely can get up that slope. I have to push the bike the last 1000m up to the tunnel. Not an easy task and somehow not very amusing with the car traffic. After a very long while, it felt like an eternity, I finally see daylight. Exhausted I am happy to breathe fresh air. And now I realise I am on an island. The whole strain for nothing.

I bit depressed I relax in front of the Bedehus among the shadows. I now think about my options and eat my last Danish chocolate oat biscuits. No way I am going through that tunnel again on bike. How about going back through the tunnel by bus? At the bus station, I meet an older Norwegian woman and ask her if it’s possible to take the bike with me on the bus. She says it’s possible and we begin to talk. On the way back, she will show me which road I have to take to get to the Nordsjøvei. The transport by bus goes smooth. Just push the bike into it and to my surprise I don’t have to pay for the bike.

The bus passes through the tunnel very quickly and we go back a lot of kilometers. The woman shows me the road, I thank her and I leave the bus near a gasstation. I am now going to Søgne, following the cycle-path along the road and the cycle signs. A long while later, I now have the option to follow the road without cyclepath or the cyclepath up a hill. I prefer the cyclepath and go up in a zigzag mountain road. I am in a place called Bråvann, looks like a suburb of Kristiansand. Nice houses! Well, no shadow on the way, so the sun burns. At the top, I feel this must be the wrong direction. I get my campass and it shows I am moving north. Well, I wanted to go southwest. A resident kindly tells me I have to go all the way back down to the road and follow the road to the right. It should be around 14km to the Åros campingsite.

Of course I am flying down the hill. Finally down again, I follow the road to the right. Well, traffic is ok; could be a lot worse. I am cycling up and down through a nice rocky countryside dotted with woods and of course a lot of hills. Some I would already classify as a mountain. Continously cycling up and down is taking its toll on my strength. And the sun is still burning, my knees and my arms are already hot red. At some time, I notice a quieking noise while cycling. It’s my saddle. Oh no, I hope it’s nothing bad. A quick inspection doesn’t tell me anything. Well, I have a close look later on.

It takes a while to get into a kind of hilly biking rhythm. Use and increase the downspeed to get up again with saving strength. Well, doesn’t work every time, so I sometimes have to use all my gears. I reach a parking lot at another Bedehus (obviously are more numerous than churches). A cycle-path is leading into the forest while the road goes on through the hills. A strange guy on a bike tells me to get to the campsite I have to follow the cyclepath. Sceptically I follow the path up and down, it leads me behind some houses sitting on steep rocks. Of course with some forks, so I have to trust my feeling. The path ends inside a residential area with no sign of a campsite. I ask a woman if this is the right way… it is! I just have to go on and in a short while I should see the caravans. Ah well, a few turns later, indeed! The campsite! I go down the hill with full speed… I am becoming a real speed junkie in Norway.

According to my travel guide, Åros camping is a four star camping site. I don’t know why, must be the high price (the highest I have encounter in Norway so far! Even campsites in Iceland are cheaper!). Ok, they got a beach, but nevertheless it looks a bit worn and the meadows aren’t good for pitching your tent. Nevertheless, I feel a bit dizzy in my head and I am sunroasted, I guess too much direct sun, so I decide to stay for two nights.

Building my camp again and then I take a very cold shower. I refill my water supplies, I guess I drank over six litres today and not much left for the toilet. My black icebreaker functionshirt is completely crusted with salt on the back.

Time to have a look at my saddle. I scrap off some colour on a brace and indeed, a clear fracture. The saddle is already six or seven years old, so it could be its age. I tape both braces and put the saddle back into the saddle support, in a way so the fracture is right in the middle of the support. A test drive later and it holds. No more quieking. I am a bit worried though that the different saddle position is ok in the long term. Well, we will see. I am thinking if I should buy a new saddle for a horrendous Norwegian price. I hope the saddle holds.

Some motorbikes arrive. Germans. Stefan, Thorsten and Katja from Potsdam. They drove 3000km through Sweden and Norway and are now on their way back via Denmark. Cool bikes! They don’t have that much problems with steep climbs.

And I got a young Norwegian family as neighbours: Jane, Trond and their two children. They are from Stavanger and are camping for the first time with their children. In the evening we are sitting together, talk and drink. We have much fun!

Tags: Åros camping, Bråvann, Fjordcat, Fjordline, Flekkerøy, Hanstholm, Kristiansand, norwegian tunnels

Thisted - Klitmøller - Hanstholm

Weather: warm, partly clouded, ~27°

Kilometers on bike: 42 km

I need roughly three hours to repackage everything. I refill my bike bottles with water. I check out and afterwards I meet a Dutch couple near the exit of the camp site. The man talks to me in Dutch. I am a bit irritated, but things become clear after a few moments. They thought I am Dutch because of the Koga Miyata bike I am riding. Proudly they explained its a Dutch bike and it is produced in Frisia. They are riding the Randonneurs from Koga Miyata and are really happy to see someone else cycling on a Dutch bike. Last week, they have been near Bielefeld in the Teutoburger Wald, but the weather has been bad: rain and 11° degrees. So they decided to go up to Northern Denmark (well…). They are the typical aged travellers which roam through all parts of Scandinavia : travel by motor caravan. We do a bit of small talk and then I am off to the downtown part of Thisted.

According to my map, I have to take a turn to the right at the church to get to the road to Hanstholm. Oh, the road at the church is closed for extensive repairs. Ok, time to take a stroll through the city. I push my bike through the pedestrian area, trying to head into the right direction. Intrestingly, every pensioner obviously does have one of those modern motorised wheel chairs. I have never seen so many of them in the street.

I reach a road which I believe should be a turning which leads into the right direction. Just to be on the safe side I ask an inhabitant. Wow, I am understanding some Jutish! Must be another dialect which you can identify as some kind of Danish. Following her directions, I get on the road leading to Hanstholm. A cycle-path is right next to the road. Optimism for my planned alternative, more beautiful route via Klitmøller and north along the Northsea to Hanstholm!

Well, the cycle-path follows the main road to Hanstholm, while I have to follow the normal road on my alternative route. A lot of traffic. At least the scenery is nice: nice hills, woodland and wild looking forest - excellent scenery for the music of Svartsot! Slowly I begin to notice my breakfast wasn’t enough: only an apple and some water.

I reach Klitmøller and quickly find a supermarket. Applejuice, two packs of oat biscuits, white rolls (spansk rundstykker). I eat the rolls and one half pack of oat biscuits and drink some applejuice. I wish there where more oat biscuits available in Germany… I really like Scandinavian oat biscuits! I mix the rest of the juice with my water for trip. During a short talk to some Germans(?) I find out there isn’t a cycle path north to Hanstholm, I have to follow the Kystvej, the local main road, to Hanstholm.

Lots of traffic, obviously most of them on holiday and on their way to the ferry. I am the only biker here. The Kystvej leads right through a wonderful nature reserve, the Thy National Parc to be precise, lots of dunes, behind them the Northsea and heath and hills. A short way from Hanstholm, you can see the lighthouse to the North, the younger German history catches up with me . the German batteries Hanstholm I from WW2 lie in a quite idyllic spot among the dunes. Later on I get to know that those batteries belonged to the Atlantic Wall of the Nazis and was used to “secure” the Skaggarak. All of Hanstholm (and the coast north of it) is still covered with those fortifications today. [1]

I follow the signs to the ferry harbour. Without problems I find the bureau of Fjordline. It’s around 13:00, so I could take the ferry at 16:30. I inquire about the price and it’s not as cheap as announced on their website, so I decide to take the ferry tomorrow morning for half the price. Even with setting up my camp on camping site I still safe some money.

Instead of looking directly for the camp site, I follow the coastline north to get to the sea. I enjoy the sun, sea and fresh air. I follow the road through an industrial area. Modern harbours and surrounding industrial areas aren’t really pretty. Well, what’s that? The road ends in the dunes north of Hanstholm. Ok, back and I climb the 65m high hill on which most of Hanstholm is residing. There aren’t any sign which point the way to the camp site, so I have to ask at a gas station. I am already on teh right track, just further along (a few kms) and I am at the Hanstholm camping site.

What a charming welcome at the reception! Ei hyggelig jenta! The women are really beautiful up here. I guess I am talking a mix of Danish and Norwegian at the moment, most Danes I encounter think I am a Swede. I am not sure if that’s a compliment though. Nei, jeg er ingen svensker, jeg er tysk. That’s even more confusing for them.

The camp site is big, really big. I get a map and a list with free slots. I can drive over the site and select one of the slots I like. Finally I decide to take a slot between two caravans, I pitch my tent and go back to the reception to finalise my check-in. Sadly, someone else is there and the nice lady isn’t.

Back in my tent, I rest on my mattress. Rest of the day is pure regeneration. I take a very long stroll through the dunes and along the beach - my beach, I am the only person there. I guess I found a small piece of amber among the stones. Back at the camp, I prepare tea, listen to music (Cultus Ferox is fitting to Hanstholm and the sea) and cook. Basmatirice with raisins and almonds, spiced with self made curry (after an Indian recipe). I study maps and travel guides of Norway and at 22:00 I try to sleep. At last, even the shrieking kids must have been gone to bed.

[1] More about the Atlantic Wall in Denmark: http://www.atlantikwall-denmark.net/index.php?l=en

Tags: Atlantic Wall, Cultus Ferox, Fjordline, Hanstholm, Svartsot, Thy National Parc

Weather: sunny and hot, ~32° degrees

Kilometers on bike: 20 km

5:00 - alarm clock horror! I don’t want to get up. Bah, I should have taken a train later. Ok, I am jumping out of my cozy bed, turn on my computer and shove MP3s onto my mp3-player (Thanks Volker!). Doing yesterday’s dishes and packing the last items. Around 30 kilograms of luggage. Oh my… A streak of panic… Ok, hiking boots stay at home.

Short shower and getting the last litter out of my flat. Stripping baggage onto my bike. So, I should get moving… 6:32 and my train leaves Münster at 6:57. First real run in to the train station - goes well. Easier than I thought. 6:45 at the train station. I am not sure if the station in Münster does have elevators to getting up to the platforms, at least I cannot find them in my hurry. So I am dragging my bike complete with baggage up the stairs to the platform. Well, it’s heavy. I am packing the four bike bags into a my Vaude Tarp & Travel bag, which functions as a four-bike-bag transportbag as well a tarp. Very useful for flights and I thought perhaps when going by train, too (knowing the helpfulness of German conductors when they oversee you arriving with a lot of luggage). Two minutes to go until the train arrives.

Entering the train… well, a few minutes later I see I am in the wrong bike compartment - all slots are reserved for other bikers. This train does have two bike compartments. No problem, I am getting my luggage over into the other compartment during the trip from Münster to Osnabrück. In Osnabrück I am changing compartments with my bike. I am now in a big bike compartment with lots of free slots for bikes (as well with my reserved slot to Hamburg).

Next stop of the train is Bremen. During the trip I am talking to a (semi-?)-professional looking biker - of course completely wearing biking clothes. I am more looking like a biker on secret mission. My bike pant is hidden beneath old and worn short pants and I am wearing a loose-fitting checked bike shirt. We exchange stories about our journeys and tours in Iceland, France, Switzerland etc. A nice talk! He leaves in Bremen.

On the way to Hamburg I am quite sure I forgot something… no journey without forgetting something… Ok, it’s the addresslist. I use the wait in Hamburg’s main train station to reconstruct the addresses from memory as well from my mobile. I also start writing my travelogue.

WTF… I am standing on the wrong end of the platform and I hurry up to get my train to Padborg, which I see standing at the other end. Well, I pass the conductor on the platform while he pushes the button “Close the doors”. He only said, the doors are closed now, you cannot get in. Gladly, my sword is at home and I am in vacation mood, otherwise there would have been a loss of a German conductor.

I am looking for other ways to get to Padborg and I get on a regional train to Neumünster and change there onto a train to Flensburg. No problems on the way.

On the train, I am meeting a young German student, who studies Geopolitics in Scotland and is now on his way to his girlfriend in Estonia. With his bike he intends to board a ferry from Kiel. We have a nice talk about studies, linguistics, Estonia etc.

I ask a conductor when the next train leaves from Flensburg to Padborg. Well, I could wait for an hour or go the short distance by bike. Ok, stripping everything to the bike and optimise the luggage. Flensburg is a nice small town (at least the centre), with a very nice harbour. There are also bike signs which show the direction. At the harbour quai a sign points into the town. I follow the sign and somehow there isn’t any visible clue which way to go. I follow my sense of direction and end up at a steep hill, framed with beautiful houses from the Gründerzeit. I admire the architecture and push my bike uphill in the shadows. The sun is mercilessly burning. On the hill, no sign to see. I ask around and a few minutes later I am cycling another long, steep rise up. I did forget how 30kg feel on a bike. As far as I can see, I follow a bypassing road.

14:54 - I am crossing the German-Danish border! A short while later, I am reaching Padborg. Not very impressive. By pure chance I get to the Jernbanegade (after finding no signs pointing to the trainstation, jernbane = train in Danish). A station with only ticketmachines. Well, it accepts cards. I overlook the Maestro-symbol and ask a conductress (well, she’s waiting for the train I want to take) for help (well, my Danish/Norwegian and her southern Jutish clash). She kindly gets me a ticket from Padborg directly to Thisted. Somehow I overlooked the small Maestro symbol on the screen and I happily pay with by card.

On the train to Fredericia I meet a young Danish couple with her eleven months old son. The couple, beautiful mother!, is going back from Berlin to Århus. Holidays in Berlin, nice. We talk in English, but I  also try to understand their dialect when both talk to eachother. That’s really hard.

During the trip, our “bike and pram”-compartment fills steadily. A nice female biker enters and we begin to talk. She is travelling back from her bike vacation to France via Hameln. She is from Hameln and now living and working in Odense for two-and-a-half years. Envy! Sadly, she already leaves the train in Kolding.

In Fredericia I say good bye to the Danish couple and I try to find out how I get to Thisted now. I am happy that this station does have elevators. So down into the mainhall and to the ticket counter. Wow, they understand me and I can understand them.

I have to reserve a Cykelplads in the Danish equivalent to the German InterCity train. The train goes from Fredericia to Struer. If all goes well, I should be in Struer at 19:19. I am the only biker in “my” compartment, the other slots in this compartment’s free space are taken up by a pram, a wheeled Zimmer(?, translation Gehwagen) as well a disabled dame in her wheelchair. The Danish IC is more comfortable than the German ones. While adding to my notes, the train goes through a nice Jutlandic scenery.

In Struer I am changing trains for the last time. I am entering the Arriva (with wireless internet access, but sadly without computer) to Thisted. Well, not many passengers. Slowly I begin to feel the weariness of travels. I am glad when I can jump into my sleeping bag. Around 21:00 the train arrives in Thisted. I am getting off the train and start looking for the camping site. Half an hour later, I finally arrive. I check in, get a Scandinavian Camping Kort and pitch my tent.

End of day: 23:00.

Tags: Denmark, Thisted, train

Well, I have to rearrange a few things inside the bags, but this is the general layout. Mental note: I need a lightweight tent (hello Hilleberg!) and obviously a down sleeping bag for the smaller package.

If you are accustomed to go on tour with a partner, it’s difficult to fit all needed things on one bike.

Tags: Bike

Deyr fé, deyja frændr,
deyr sjálfr et sama;
ek veit einn, at aldri deyr:
dómr of dauðan hvern.

From Gestaþáttr, Hávamál

Tags: Hávamál, N. Robin Crossby

Today I went down to the train station and thought I would buy my train ticket, going from Münster to Thisted in Denmark.

Well, it was a good intention, but the Deutsche Bahn (DB) decided otherwise.

I planned my trip using the online website of the DB. It showed me which trains I had to take and when I would arrive at Thisted. Now being at the counter in the travel centre, the nice dame came around with different arrival information and trains.

The problem was reserving slots for my bike on the Danish trains and obviously the DB’s system had a problem communicating with the Danish information database. A call to Berlin, DB’s headquarter, later, the lady told me they already knew about the problem. But they (I guess their admins) cannot figure out if that’s a problem on their or the Danish side.

So in the end I didn’t only reserve bike slots on the trains going from Padborg to Thisted, but I also only got me a ticket from Münster via Hamburg to Padborg. This leaves me to organise travelling any further by train in Denmark.

The worst case would be seeing me cycling through Denmark now.

Tags: Bike, Deutsche Bahn, trains

I am playing around with adding a Google Map of my trip (see the map section).

I still have to figure out how to connect the different points.

At the moment, I added the starting point in Münster, Germany and three possible train stops on my way to Hanstholm in Denmark. I am currently thinking about going to Holstebro and explore some of the Limfjord area and northwestern Jylland on my way to the ferry (roughly 100 km). Well, I have to think about it.

If you have any ideas on how to tweak an embedded Google Map, please let me know. Thanks in advance.

Tags: Google Map, map, trains

I intend to go by train up to Northern Denmark and take the ferry from Hanstholm over to Norway.

I am not yet sure if I go directly to Kristiansand or if I even go directly to Bergen.

When I go to Kristiansand, I intend to follow the Northsea Cycle Route to Bergen.

Tags: Fjordline, Hanstholm, Northsea Cycle Route

Today, on the 23rd July 2008, N. Robin Crossby, creator of the roleplaying game world Hârn and the RPG ruleset HârnMaster succumbed to his cancer in his hospital in Coquitlam, BC, Canada.

Farewell Robin, may Siém guide you to the Blessed Realm.

I will miss our conversations.

Announcement on Keléstia Productions’ website:

http://www.kelestia.com/?q=node/285

Condolences on HârnForum:

http://www.lythia.com/forum/viewtopic.php?f=30&t=9445

Tags: Hârn, Keléstia Productions, N. Robin Crossby

A few days to go and I will set off and head north.

Currently my living room looks like a Mt. Everest base camp… a lot of outdoor equipment chaotically draped around the room. I hope I get the mess sorted and everything I might need fits onto my bicycle.

Tags: chaos, vacation