Of fjords, alpine plateaus and sea coast: a Norwegian smörgåsbord! (Kristiansund, Norway – KM 990)

The Sognefjellsvegen, Norway’s first national scenic route, is the highest pass (1434m) in Northern Europe and it has been voted « one of the most beautiful bike rides in the world » by The Guardian, amongst many publications. It made sense that we started sighting bike tourists on our way up from the Sogne Fjord. While we stopped at Turtagrø to chat with a threesome made up of an older couple from Jasper, Alberta and a young man from German, happy to rest and take our minds off the steep road we were climbing on, half a dozen loaded bikes whizzed past us. We had obviously reached some kind of funnel, a road so famous that people would come from far to cycle on it.

Getting use to Norway’s topography by now we weren’t surprised to find an undulating plateau at the top, with some frozen lakes and a dam, and lots of wind. By late afternoon we kept a firm grip on the handle bars and leaned our wide loads into the gale, glancing up sporadically at the spectacular views on the glaciers of Jotunheimen National Park, the country’s highest peaks. Cooking dinner and setting up camp turned into a battle against this invisible enemy, but our tent rose to the challenge and by morning it had slowed down a bit.

Cyclists kept coming from the opposite direction, this time they were wearing neon lycra and were astride skinny bicycles with numbered plates. As we arrived at the Sognefjells mountain hut, fresh waffles with cream and jam were being distributed, riders filled up their water bottles, changed their clothes and stopped at the « pisse plass ». We had stumbled on the yearly Tour de Jotunheimen, a 430-kilometre race from Laerdal to Sogndal! « Bravo! Bravo! » we yelled from our saddles as the plateau broke and we started our descent in the valley below. As it turned out we had climbed from 0 to 1,400 metres a.s.l. on 25 kilometres of road and would go down from 1,400 to 400m in 50 kms! No wonder Sognefjellsvegen had felt like a one-way street!

The UNESCO-designated Geiranger Fjord had four cruise ships floating on its deep-blue waters and half a dozen tour buses alternating at the visitor center. We came, we saw, we ate and showered and took the steep switchbacks out of there. From Valldal, children sold baskets of fresh strawberries on the side of the road, sweat soaked our cycling shorts and the striking Romsdal Alps appeared on the right. At the top of the pass we reached the famous Trollstigen, a serpentine mountain road with 11 hairpin bends. Our Surly Trolls were at home on this « trolls’ ladder » and we let them take the lead, wide-eyed and palpitating hearts, down some unerving right-hand turns.  

And like that, we were out of the mountains and nearing the Atlantic coast. In Andalsnes teepee tents were set in the harbour for the Mountain Festival, people walked shirtless ice cream in hand or sipped beer on patios, our cyclocomputers marked 28 degres celsius in the shade, summer was definately upon Norway. Four kilometres from the city of Molde the road dissapeared under water in a closed-to-pedestrians-and-cyclists-tunnel, so we reached the city by bus. The first time we had taken the panniers off the bikes since Stavanger!

Kristiansund is a city made of islands and soon there was another underwater tunnel, a 5-kilometre one with a toll booth this time. Rebeling a bit against the principle of having to pay 160 NOKs to enter a city, we tried hitchhiking and it wasn’t long before a friendly giant showed up with a trailer and ferried us and our gear accross. « Sorry about this situation », he said. « Please don’t write anything bad about my town ». How could we?