I waved TSK off at
6am. I felt pretty lucky to have been at
the camp ground last night, not sleeping in a lodge with 80 men and 2
women. I helped them with breakfast then
waved good bye, wishing them a good trip and see ya later.
I didn't feel like
waiting in Denmark and we'd gotten away without paying for last night's camping
so I legged it for the ferry terminal.
I stopped at a few
places along the highway to think about whether to have coffee or not but each
place wasn't really suitable and before I knew it I was at Hurtsals. I stopped in at the sea life centre and
probably would've gone in had it been open but it wasn't, it was 7:15 am. I thought about brewing up there but then I
just wanted to sleep and so I decided coffee wasn't a good idea until I'd found
out how long I had to wait for a ferry.
I could sleep whilst I waited for the ferry.
I figured out which
company I was travelling with then headed to the right terminal
(eventually). I took a long drive down
to the terminal building, paid my 770Kr then made the long return journey to
check in. I could do what I wanted now
but somehow brewing up was too much hassle.
Instead I got the best-tasting machine coffee I've ever had and sat in
the Vanu eating snacks, reading Norway tourist brochures and not sleeping. I even lay down and did an hour of not
sleeping.
When the boat
arrived it was a catamaran. There are
two crossing times to Norway and I had inadvertently selected the fastest
one. Of course it was also the choppiest
one and after the unpleasant experiences of the crossing from the UK (12 hours
of sleeping through choppy seas and waking up feeling sick), I knew I would
need to pick my location carefully.
Once on board, I
realised I couldn't sit in the comfort lounge so I went in search of a seat
near the centre in the cheap seats. I
checked my ticket and it referred only
to "free seating".
Unfortunately the "free" cheap seats all seemed to be on the
extremities of port and starboard - the centre being reserved for stuff like
cafes and shopping. There were two lines
of seats right in the middle of the boat and as I sat in one very near the
centre (but just far enough away from the ill-looking child) I realised that
these seats had numbers on them. I don't
know, to this moment, if I was allowed to sit in these much coveted central
seats. Many of the locals were clearly
perfectly happy to be sitting in the wings and being bumped about in their
cheap seats. Me, I just about held it
together (even when the aforementioned child was sick and they brought out the
"sick hoover" to clear it up).
No-one asked me to move and so I continued to knit like I did this trip
all the time and had every right to be there.
2 hours later I was
in a pissy, wet Norway and still dog tired.
I did around 10 laps
of the city streets trying in desperation to find the hotel where the Super
Brevet finishes so that I could drop off a bag for someone. It was a tortuous and embarrassing journey in
which I read the wrong hotel name in the map three times and broke around 15 traffic laws and left , still without understanding the
rules around junctions and traffic lights but let me say that they bear no
resemblance whatsoever to either Canada or the UK and none of the locals seem
to know how they work either.
I left, to go to the
camp ground - slightly reluctantly. I
drove for around 5 miles and doubled back on myself and went under the road I'd
just come along to end up in a jetty car park next to a campsite that looked more
like a Gypsy community on the edge of Birmingham than anything acceptably
Norwegian. I turned the engine off for
around 3 minutes, wiped my face and decided to leave again.
I set off on the
left side of the road - good start.
At least I didn't
have to go far to get onto the E18 - a lovely mountain motorway. The vanu doesn't go that fast so at least
here I didn't have to worry about breaking the 20mph speed limit or getting
stuck in the middle of a four-way junction.
Again I watched the
services sign go by. I’d only just got
going and coffee would have been such a faff.
The tunnels were good, little bits of respite from the rain. The road went on and on. 25 km seemed to last forever then finally,
there it was, the Lillesand exit and signs to two camp grounds. I chose the main Lillesand campsite as it was
the good one described in the guide book.
The office was closed for another 30 minutes so I sat on the deck
outside the shop and put my head back into my hands.
No one came to the
rescue so I went for a walk. It's
reassuring to stick your feet onto sand when you're in the doldrums and I also
checked to make sure that there were some spaces available.
3pm arrived and I was booked in, happily, by a
chatty, handsome 40-something Norwegian.
I booked two nights. Some time to
be me and went into town in search of a decent scale map.
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