Munkebu (an attempt)

My body was feeling it after the Kvalvika hike, and I gave up on my original plan to do the hike a second time to catch the midnight sun. Instead I ate a big bowl of carbs and slept it off.

The next day I hitched a ride to Sørvågen to attempt a bigger hike up the mountains to the Munkebu hut. That was to be my next cabin stay but again the keys had all been taken by the time I showed up. I still had all day to kill, so with my enormous pack strapped in I stubbornly resolved to do the hike anyway. 

In year 11 I trekked for a week through the desert in and around Broken Hill. Either because I blocked out the worst of it, or because I was younger and more able-bodied back then, the Munkebu hike felt a hell of a lot harder! The path snakes upward for almost 6km each way and is barely discernible as it passes through muddy bogs, rocks and shrubbery. There were two particularly steep passages with a row of chains bolted into the boulders for hikers to abseil up and down. Coming down was quicker but no less difficult when my legs were already aching and I had to find a way to hop, jump and abseil down from the peak with my pack still attached.

Despite the pain of my objecting body, I did feel proud for making it to the end. I ate some lunch sheltered under a boulder by that wretched cabin with the best views all around me before I made the painful descent back to civilisation. 

After the failed cabin attempt, I had no place to sleep so I crawled back to the hostel in Å to beg for a place to crash. I was prepared to just wait out the night at a bus shelter or something but by some miracle they found a room for me. 

I woke up today with a half baked plan to take an early bus to Reine and then a ferry to another hike to Horseid beach. Hobbling to the bus stop in the rain made it quite clear that I would've had a terrible time on that hike, so I gave up and wrote off today to tend to this blog, ready for another fresh attempt tomorrow.

Hitching

One thing I can tick off my to do list after this trip is hitchhiking! I was dreading it to begin with, but I knew it had to happen eventually. I can't say it's not awkward sticking a hopeful hand out to passing drivers, but I contented myself knowing how much I had saved on bus fares (EVERYTHING here is expensive). I got a ride with a pair of British tourists and several local drivers clearly accustomed to the yearly influx of idiot tourists, but at least accepting enough to pick up one here and there.

I took this photo as I was waiting for my Somali-Norwegian delivery man to drop off some furniture in Reine. He told me he enjoyed picking up strangers as it made his drives a bit more interesting. I guess the scenery just doesn't do it for him(?).

Kvalvika

Isolation and lack of resources aside, Fredvang is the closest settlement to Kvalvika beach - a popular secluded beach on the upper side of Moskenesøya. Kvalvika can only be accessed by hiking through a low mountain pass and downhill to the shoreline.

It was only a little more than 2km each way, but the steep ascent scrabbling up the rocks followed by an even steeper descent took a bit out of me. When you set out for a designated hike in Norway, the pathway is typically unmarked aside from the occasional cairn and the worn footsteps of other hikers, so it's easy to get lost if your mind goes a-wandering. 

The beach itself and the views at the top of the pass were worth the struggle though. I wish I could have brought a tent with me as it would've made finding accommodation that much simpler, and I don't remember ever wanting to sleep on a beach more than when I got down to Kvalvika. 

Fredvang

The next morning Harith dropped me off at Fredvang, with some of my stuff left behind at the Å hostel in anticipation of a few days of hiking and a (potential) cabin stay. Fredvang is only a few kilometres from nearby Ramberg, but off the main E10 and separated by two arched bridges. The village has no shops/services of its own, being so close to Ramberg. Had I known that I might've packed more food in my pack.

Night-Time Wanderings

We decided to drive to the other side of the islands for the aforementioned sunset after spotting some gold creeping in at the top of the mountains from our 11pm hike near Å. It’s a lot more peaceful and calm when most of the tourists have gone to bed, though the light remains more or less unchanged.

Midnight Sun

I can’t quite figure out if my jetlag has finally subsided, or if because of this perpetual light my body has just given up trying to decide on an appropriate circadian rhythm. It’s a when-in-Rome situation, and I’ve just been sleeping when I need to and going hiking when I feel awake and willing. 

I was fortunate enough to run into a guy from Mount Waverley (we had mutuals on FB) staying in my dorm, who had mercifully procured a rental! Never mind how much Harith paid for the Jeep, but he kindly offered me a lift to Fredvang the next day as well as an impromptu drive out to chase the midnight sun. 

The sun does dip closer to the horizon at about 11.30-2am, but only for show before it rises up once more. Words and photos don't do any justice to what we saw.

Å

Å is located on the island of Moskenesøya and sits improbably at the end of the E10, the highway that stretches from the far end of Lofoten to the mainland. It’s the last in a tight cluster of picturesque fishing villages all backed by steep jagged peaks with the E10 threading through across multiple bridges like a piece of connective string.

Aside from tourists, the main commodity here is stockfish or air dried cod. The traditional red rorbu cabins were used by fishermen in the past, but of course have now all been turned into tourist accommodation. One of which is the hostel that I’ve been staying at these past few days. Shoutout to Lofoten Å for finding me a room when no one else would (more on that later).

DNT Huts

My main reason for stopping off in Ramberg, other than a beach stroll, was to pick up a certain key. Hiking is understandably a national pastime in Norway and the Norwegian Trekking Association (DNT) operates about 500 mountain cabins sprinkled up and down the country. These are usually located up in the hills along some scenic hike, and as long as you’re a DNT member then you can make use of these huts for a night or two. 

There is supposedly a universal key that opens up the majority of huts, but thanks to Lofoten being miss popular, they've had to issue specific keys for the few cabins located on the archipelago. These keys are picked up at tourist offices close to the start of each corresponding hike/cabin and can only be taken the day of your planned stay. 

Aside from the DNT membership fee, it worked out to be comparatively affordable to stay a few nights in the cabins, but only if I could get to all the cabins (so that dastardly membership fee would be spread out enough). 

Knowing my luck the Selfjord cabin was full up when I arrived for the key. With no place else to sleep that night I tried to find a rental car or somewhere else to stay nearby. The lovely lady at the tourist office tried her best to find me something, with the last rental available being a manual back in Leknes. I passed on that, but managed to find a spot in a hostel in nearby Fredvang (anything’s possible if you have cash to throw around).

Arctic Summer

I left Leknes the next day on a bus bound for Ramberg. I really wish I had rented a car because I spent the hour or so on the bus with my face firmly squashed against the window, gaping at the views passing me by.

Ramberg is another smallish fishing settlement currently overrun with seasonal visitors. I strolled around the beach there and temporarily forgot that I was north of the Arctic Circle. Hard to believe that this place will do a 180 in winter when the long winter night kicks in and the sunshine is replaced by snowfall and aurora. 

Leknes

For the uninitiated, Lofoten is a long peninsula stretching out from the Norwegian coastline a little further up from the Arctic Circle. The islands making up the archipelago are all classic Norway - soaring cliffs, isolated beaches and vertiginous mountains overshadowing tiny fishing villages below. Thanks (I’m wildly guessing) to the Gulf Stream, the climate here is satisfyingly more comfortable than what you would typically expect this far up north. The days have peaked at around 15 degrees and the midnight sun means that the nights are not much different from the days.

This potent combination of stunning scenery, unending days and comfortable climate means that from at least June - August the islands are absolutely seething with tourists. I knew to expect this, but several times over the last few days I couldn’t help but feel like I had drawn the short straw. 

The first night was a quick stop over in Leknes. My flight arrived at 9.15pm and there wasn’t a chance of getting a bus to any more affordable hostels after my walk from the airport down into town. I settled on a night in the cheapest (but still frustratingly expensive) Airbnb instead. Don’t count the number of times that I complain about the cost of living here because I’ll say it again - it’s insane. Even Iceland was more reasonable…

Chew You Up/Spit You Out

Oh Lofoten. Stunning, gorgeous, breathtaking, jaw-dropping Lofoten. Tourist-ridden, victim-of-its-own-success, eye-wateringly expensive Lofoten.

It’s been 5 days since I touched down on the blessed archipelago and it’s been eventful, to say the least. My feet are more blisters than feet right now and I’ve taken a day off for R&R. In this instance that involves a fresh baked kanelbolle (cinnamon bun), refillable filter coffee and free wifi at the bakery near my hostel in Å (pronounced like the oo in door). Gather round as I recount the last few days until I get kicked out of here.

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{EDIT: So this blog started out on Tumblr, just as I had done when I was writing things up during Iceland. The image compression on Tumblr is pretty woeful and I couldn't find a way around it, so here I am spending my designated R&R day moving things across to the greener pastures of Squarespace, and now in the comforts of my own private matchbox of a room.}

Vigelandsparken

I had some time to kill this morning. With a tight budget it seemed appropriate to pay a visit to the impressive/creepy Vigelandsparken - the infamous sculpture park with an array of Gustav Vigeland’s granite and bronze sculptures of men, woman and children doing god-knows-what.