day 11 - escape from bergen

Bergen is surrounded by a fractal maze of poorly-signed roads, presumably designed to let tourists check in but never check out. Using the wind and pelting rain as a directional guide, I navigated the noneuclidian geometries of these paths and eventually escaped southward.

Today's plan was to head towards Stavanger and stop when I got tired. Little did I realize that there is nothing (NOTHING) in the way of tourist infrastructure for over 100km south of Bergen. This is a forgotten region, skiped entirely by the busses ever since the high-tech undersea tunnel was built. With few options, I eventually arrived in historic Haugesund having pedaled more in one day than the last several combined. Fortunately, the coastal route is flat by local standards and wasn't the soul-crushing experience of the norheimsund-bergen trail of tears.

coastal islands
Originally uploaded by wolftone.

With this area devoid of tourists, it is left mostly to the farmers and summer cottages. It lacks the awe-inspiring majesty of the fjords, but has its own raw beauty. I think of it as the hippie love child of the burren and Acadia national park Just like western ireland, there is fractured rock everywhere, plus a healthy scattering of sheep and the same inconveniently-placed electrical lines. It also has Maine's working-harbor coastal vibe with mountains in the background and a near-perfect replica of the Pemaquid Point lighthouse. Stir in a healthy assortment of purple wildflowers and you have this understated but picturesque area. I like it.

Nicely, once I crossed the fjord from Bergen's Nexus of Pain, the weather promptly improved. It seems that Bergen's legendary precipitation is highly localized. (Also, on bergen's rain: the kitsch shops sell an animated moose which wears a rain slicker and sings "singin' in the rain" in English. Who would bring such a thing back with them?)

The sheep call I honed to perfection in New Zealand doesn't have much of an effect here. Maybe the locals don't get my kiwi accent?

On one leg of my trip, I rode with a local named Lars. He didn't speak much English, but that didn't stop him from asking questions about my bike and my trip. He motivated me and kept me moving for a good 25km, even if I didn't understand most of what he was saying.

I was hoping to be able to close my travelogue with hearty praise of norwegian road maintenance by saying that I didn't get a flat tire during my whole trip. No such luck - the precious front wheel hit a small, sharp rock just before a long bridge crossing and stranded me for a while as I made the repair. I was hoping that front tire wasn't going to die on me. Every town I stop in, I ask the local cycle shop for a 20x1.75 street slick and they come back with a 45 psi BMX tire and an apologetic look on their face. Since my front tire apparently doesn't exist in this country, I'm really hoping it can hold itself together for a few more days.

My favorite geological features around here are Inland Mini-Fjords. These are little lakes with steep sides and rock islands covered with bushes and wildflowers. It's like a pocket-sized version of the sognefjord.

There has been effectively zero nightlife on this trip. For one thing, "night" doesn't really begin until after my bedtime anyway. Restaurants are expensive and there is really no distinctly norwegian food I should be eating. Alcohol is insanely expensive, so bars are right out. Not that I'm much of a clubber, but even if I wanted to go to a dance club my technical outerwear would not permit me past the dress code.

As such, my evenings consist mostly of eating a grocery-store dinner and typing in the journal as I watch the sun set. I carefully ration my music-listening since I only brought 100 songs and don't want to get tired of them. I've also been reading "Accelerando" and "Someone Comes to Town, Someone Leaves Town" on the Pilot. E-books are nice for travel since they don't add weight and can be read in the dark, but it does leave me with nothing to trade at the take-a-book-leave-a-book shelf.