Lyngdal - Kristiansand - Hirthals

Weather: cloudy, ~20°

Kilometers on bike: 12 km

I cycle to Lyngdal centre. I intend to go to the tourist information first before I go any further. The lady is quite astonished I was cycling one of the most difficult parts of the Nordsjøvei. Well, I don’t get a medal for it though. I inquire about alternatives about my intention to go to Kvinesdal. She is surprised that I want to take Sørlandsbanen. Busses are cheaper in Norway than trains. I more and more intend to go to Kristiansand, so she said the fastest way on bike is just follow the main road or take a bus.

The rutebilstasjon is directly on the other side of the tourist information. I suspect they get some kind of a commision when the recommend travellers to take the bus. An employee explains the busticket system and the prices to me and finally sells me a ticket to Kristiansand, for a bike you have to pay fifty percent of the price.

At the rutebilstsjon I meet Frank and Gabi. Frank was once a copy-writer in Germany and now works in Flekkefjord. Because we have some spare time until our busses leave, we go to Harry’s Kaffibar, have a chat and drink some coffee.

They got Illy espresso! My favourite espresso brand. I order a Latte Macchiato for 27 NOK. I got high hopes it should be ok. Well, somehow it only tastes like warm milk. Where’s the espresso? Someone should show the Norwegian how to make a good espresso. Because I didn’t hear the normal sound of espresso making, I suspect they put the espresso into a normal coffee machine.

Frank took an official retraining in Germany to get a job in Norway, he is one of two people (out of fourteen), who finally made it to Norway. We talk about his life among Norwegians. E.g. he observed that Norwegians obviously get really drunk every weekend, despite the high price for alcoholics. He tales are very interesting. I also inquire about the Norwegian company and work culture. Very, very interesting.

11:45, I have to go to the bus. I say goodbye to Frank and Gabi and wish them well. The bus is already at the station. Opening the side-gates, putting luggage and bike inside - ready to go. The trip to Kristiansand doesn’t take long. 13:30 and I am in Kristiansand again.

I now go to the Color Line-terminal and take a passage to Hirthals. 15:30 check-in, 16:30 the ferry will leave the harbour. Because I got some time, I go to an internet café and write a few short entries on my blog. Around 15:15 I am cycling to the check-in and put myself into the first line among other motorcycle bikers. At the top of the lane I also see some other heavily packed bicycles. So I am the only tough biker here…

It takes a long time until the ferry has spewed out all the cars and caravans. I wonder with such a flood of motorised tourists if going by car/caravan is really ecologically correct. It’s a sad view to see such a solid line of cars; I wonder what the Norwegians think about it.

The three bikers I saw at the top position are Gerhard, Gerd and Maurice from Cuxhaven. Looks like only Germans are nuts enough to go to Norway on bike. Two hale and hearty penioners and a son. They flew from Cologne airport to Kirkenes, took Hurtigruta to the Lofoten and cycled through Fjordnorway back to Kristiansand. Nice! They have a lot to tell. AFAIK, they shortly talked about writing something up on teh web, so I will try to hunt down their tale later.

On the ferry I am wasting most of my Norwegian Kroner: rekesmørbrød, apple juice, cake and lots of chocolate. At 20:00 we arrive in Hirthals. I take the three to the parking lot, where their “take-away service”, stepson directly from Cuxhaven, already waits. I say goodbye and look for the camping site, which is situated diretly next to the lighthouse. Very idyllic and directly at the sea.

The reception is already closed, so I pitch my tent next to another biker’s tent. They are obviously going on a tandem. Later I get to know them, bikers from Germany. Taris and Elisabeth are going by tandem and trailer from Swabia (south Germany) to Norway. All the way. We are having dinner, drink wine (Yeah!) and I bring my chocolate. We talk a lot and then it’s time to get into the sleeping bag.

Tags: Color Line, Hirthals, Kristiansand, Lyngdal

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