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.

Oslo - Bodø - Leknes

I flew into Oslo yesterday afternoon, after a brisk 23 hour commute. It’s my third time here so I was more in the mood to shower and nap, rather than going on a tourist bender. Getting out of the airport yesterday was an absolute nightmare. Maybe I’ve been spoiled back home, but instead of just a quick scan of the passport, it was an old school system involving two officers and a confused throng of about 200+ non-EU passport holders (the locals had the luxury of scanners). 

I touched down at 12.15pm and got out of that queue at about 2.30pm. Standing in a ‘line’ for 2 hours is just about the last thing I wanted to do after the flight. 

That was yesterday, but I’m now back at the airport ready for my next flight. There’s still a bit of lingering jet lag but this time around I’ve put more effort in forcing it out of my system. In an hour’s time I’ll be hopping on a plane bound for Leknes on the Lofoten archipelago. I’ll be hiking my way through there for a few weeks before my first residency starts in Akkarfjord on the far north island of Sørøya in late July. I don’t honestly know if my body is up for this degree of physical activity, but we’ll find out soon enough. I haven’t exactly got a plan B…

It Begins

Here we are again; me sitting on my lonesome in a country far far away from home. Last time it was Iceland, this time I’ve gone one better and strung together an absurd 8 months of artist residencies in Norway, Scotland and Finland (with plenty of time in between for assorted adventures and shenanigans. 

To say I have a fondness for the North is an understatement. Something about mountains, snow and cold windswept coastlines just gets me so excited, and I knew that I’d be back soon enough after the success of Iceland. 

We’ll see how far along I can take this blog. I do have a moleskine tucked away in my pack but it is a bit easier to type things out rather than committing ink to paper.