Nor.. Way
The date being the sixteenth of August, two thousand and nineteen, Friday afternoon on the tools in a sweltering hot London city. Caleb’s good to go once he finishes work, as am I.
The three other lads are already in Norway - Luke, Dan and Cam, flown into Bergen, taken a wonderful journey over roads and lakes to our pre arranged accommodation in Odda.
“The place is fantastic! The views are incredible and everything seems extremely easy going, perfect spot to disconnect and come to for a weekend hike”.. similar messages we were receiving throughout the day as the boys reenact scenes from the Titanic at the front of the boat.
Brilliant, already jealous of them and we join them in a few hours time. Caleb and myself had the task of picking up the hire van, as public transport is relatively scarce in the depths of the Norwegian mountains.
Now, I could be wrong, but I am pretty sure we started off our journey with a flight from Gatwick via the carrier Norwegian Air, at about 2050 hours. That was the scheduled time anyway, I’m certain we left the tarmac at a time closer to 11pm.
None the less, the two of us landed in Bergen around midnight, the other lads well asleep in Odda, some 150kms away.
Rent-A-Wreck is what we are looking for, and rent a wreck is what we certainly found after wandering about a barely lit airport. It was a 8 seater like what was quoted, it was everything as quoted, but was a wreck it was.
One headlight, every dash light on, a fair bit of gas but not enough, broken seatbelts, no where to charge our gps, barely any room for us let alone the three others. The office was well closed, so, a great start.
We set journey.
It was the Fv7 highway, via Haga, Mørkhølsfossen (a spectacular waterfall) and the ferry crossing at Tørvikbygd, finishing up in Odda. 0200 predicted arrival.
That was the plan anyway.
About 90 odd kilometres into the journey, around 0115 in the morning, the van fires up even more dashboard lights, and we loose power going up a passing lane on a tight hill.
No choice but to pull over. The van is totalled. Fortunately we managed to drag the van into a small rest area about 50 metres before quiet a lengthy tunnel. Minimal reception, we find the rental hires owner on a business card and track him down on WhatsApp.
His profile photo is him dressed as a frog.. I didn’t have high hopes.
Sitting in still darkness with the sounds of blustering waterfalls and wildlife, we managed to get ahold of him.
For sure he was asleep but he had no option but to come and help us.
Heck it was fun trying to describe where we were, but we got there.
I’d like to say about two hours later, he arrives.. I couldn’t believe my sleep deprived eyes! A rather large utility vehicle, dragging a 12 seater mini bus behind it.
He steps out, looking like a dapper Richard Ayoade - if there’s one (many) things Norwegian can do, is dress extremely well and presentable - no matter the time or weather.
After switching the vans over, which did take sometime, we loaded our new van, thanked the lad and proceeded on our way.
I want to say it’s about 0430-0500 about this time. It was a pretty wild, sleepless night in the middle of no where. Good thing I had the calm and collected Raglan surfer with me in Caleb. Couldn’t have asked for a better companion on this task at hand!
Of course, the ferry crossing is shut over night, so why not add on a further 80kms or so to the journey.
A few laughs and a bit of delirious chat, mate, we arrive at our accommodation in Odda at around 0730-0800. The well slept boys welcomed us in with a few jokes and laughs, it was all we could do!
“How’d yah sleep?”.. two of the three felt guilty and bad for us, Cam on the other hand, reckoned he got a good nine hours and it was “bloody fantastic”. Prick!
All love and no hate of course, it’s a journey of a lifetime and we were all stoked to have the chance to go witness Trolltunga with our own eyes.
Light discussions on if Caleb and I need sleep before we go, we decided to kick on. A small drive to the car park, the 28km round trip hike commenced.
Fortunately there was a shuttle bus we took to shave off the first 3km or so, then the walk began.
Not too tough, but mentally straining enough, after five hours or so we make the journey to our destination, with mind blowing views. Absolutely sobering. I couldn’t believe it with my own eyes.
Yes we had been awake for about 30 hours, but all the worth it. It was truely exceptional.
Few photos along the way, many laughs and a few snacks, it was a journey to remember.
Some 1180 metres above sea level, the hike only had about 800m of vertical elevation before appearing at the so called summit, and hiking about 4km of ridge line to the rock that is sticking out of a cliff, I guess, a bit like a trolls tongue.
After taking in the view for a while, the weather started to turn and we collectively decided to head on back to the van.
A beer was much craved, but it wasn’t until we got to the store back in the township we learnt that under Norwegian law, no alcohol could be sold after 1800 hours on a Saturday.
So, a night on the waters it was, until we couldn’t keep our eyes open for much longer.
I will never forget the shower room, flooding like a fjord whilst I was in there but hey I did not give a single shit, it was the best shower I had in some time, and the sleep was out of this world!
The rest of the journey was great, we flew out of Bergen on the Sunday, I had a earlier flight than the others. We bought spectacular roadside plums which were the freshest things you could possibly get, had a coffee and made our way to Bergen.
Market stroll, flight, train home to Battersea Park, another shower, and story time with Laura on how the journey went.
A story it was.
I have had this written for a while, but finished it in my head whilst last week descending the great Taranaki Maunga, here home in New Zealand.
And I guess the moral of it, in a way anywho - life does throw you curveballs. It has its ups and downs. But you need to be reminded, there is a way through anything. Absolutely anything.
And if things get tough, or you find yourself 10km lost in the back country, stuck in a city where you can’t speak a lick of the language, maybe spare a thought and think, once I get through this, it will make one heck of a story.
Two words that are significant to me since the hike with some top quality blokes;
“Klatre Høyt”
“Climb high”
Believe in yourself, you can do it.
Keep well, keep pushing.
My email and DM’s are open to you all.
SBG
