Cooking in Copenhagen.

It's hot. At last. I saw a thermometer showing 30c yesterday. But we suspect that is Scandinavian optimism - the same kind that makes Norwegian men put on sunglasses as soon as their is a minor break in the clouds. Maddy said that in Edinburgh she never took off her cardigan - in Bergen we doubt you'd take off your anorak. Having said that we stopped riding and took a train into the interior to go kayaking on a fjord. This was near Godtvangen - valley of the Gods - much admired by Hitler apparently. We can see his point, although we can't imagine him and Eva paddling 20 kilometres and bbqing on the beach. Their loss- if you want your awe inspired then do this trip.1000 metre sides, calm surface, raging waterfalls - just gorgeous.
Just to show we are still a bit brain and not all brawny we then went to a piano concert in Bergen main church. Extraordinary performances of Lizt sonatas.
Then onto Oslo by train over the Hardanger plateau.1500 metres and thick piles of snow at the top. In Oslo we did our usual walk around the old town and then visited - as good history buffs - the Norwegian museum of the Resistance. Very well done, very objective dealing with collaboration as well as heroic resistance. Respect for the Norwegians , but also for GB, we lost more lives there than any other nation.
Then ferry to cph as the locals tag this city. Wallowing in pastries - which are culinary crack, and putting all the weight lost back on. At least until yesterday. The good news is we cycled up to Elsinor ( if hamlet had just got on his bike ....) and went to Louisiana art gallery ( probably the best art gallery we have ever seen) and then Fredericksborg castle (glorious skanda versailles). Bad news was slight underestimation of distances and headwind. Possibly our hardest day of cycling yet! Today we are on the trail of Karen Blixen (aka Meryl Streep).

4pm, June 20, Bergen centre. Yay!

More to follow, when we get our breath back.

Soaking in Stavanger

It is indeed raining outside. But we are in a charming B& B and have just had our first bath since Holland. Obviously we have had a few showers since then. Jill is purring - I think. The shock of the ordinary; who knew cotton sheets could feel so wonderful.
Reading other blogs about this route for research gave no indication of what it would feel like. They focus on places and distances. They don't tell you about the vivid contrasts. How your mood swings according to the weather. How you can go from bowling through exquisite towns like Fiskabackskill one moment and then sharing a main road with twin trailer artics within minutes. Or how your senses narrow as you go uphill, you see little, it goes quiet and birdsong becomes loud. But at the top the sky and landscape seem to expand massively and you can see for miles. Then you remember to brake - or not. I have entered one 40kph village at 51 kph - not recommended on a 4 pannier touring bike. I worry about my rear wheel, Jill,s bar bag flies open and I have to swerve to avoid hairbrushes, moisturisers etc in middle of road.
Or how you obsess over small things . Today I timed Jill at over 4 minutes to find a pair of socks in one bag. What do I do with this information?
Plus there are the specifics of Scandinavia. The abscence of any dark night, the remarkable fact that you can go through a whole region basically expecting them to speak English - and they do.
As for Stavanger, we came here to avoid the bad weather, expecting an industrial oil town, but they have preserved the centre beautifully. Whole districts of restored wooden merchant and artisan houses wind up the hobbled hills from the harbour, nice cafes and shops. Who knew? Silly prices of course - 5 pounds for a half of Guinness.
On the other hand a boom economy - 6000 job vacancies right now. And one of Abramovich,s superyachts is in the harbour. Like us he's skipping St Tropez for the fjords this summer. Hope he dies of exposure if he buys Modric.
Back on the road and back to reality tomorrow.

Test

Technical check

Soaking in Stavanger

Climb every mountain,fjords every stream

Just came over the highest point on the cycle route, a giant hill / mountain outside Lyngdal. A triple burger with four fries of a hill. Interesting we reach for a food metaphor. The fjords sparkled green, and the passes were mega. Going up is one thing but coming down is another. It fries the brakes as you twist and turn around alpine hairpins. Andrew has got through 2 sets already - so still some weight to lose!
We have learned that it's all about the gradient and the constant up and down is the worst - judging by those days we have been slumped outside a supermarket at 5.30 eating crisps. Today I (Jill) have been making up new words to tunes from the sound of music, talking to my gears and obsessing about pastries. Yes, I am going mad and it's time to come home. Two months appears to be our attention span.
For those of you who have been wondering why we haven't stopped en route for a bit of a holiday we think we have a reasonable explanation. The negative reason is weather. Cycling in the rain is miserable, dangerous on the roads and extra miserable when you have a wet tent. So on sunny days we cycle. Then on wet days we end up holed up in what have often been quite bleak campsites. And to add insult to injury it costs a bomb in Norway to stay and do nothing in the rain.
The positive explanation is what these countries have to offer isn't heat or beaches but amazing scenery - and the best way to see it is to keep rolling along on the bike.
So onwards to Stavanger, Bergen and the end.

To Arendal they came

Well we are 3 days into Norway. The hills are steep and the prices are steeper. We have discovered the only way to cope is to laugh at both; "cycle up that, I don't think so", " can of Coke, 5 quid? How reasonable!". We spent our first lunchtime sitting in McDonald' leaking rain from our gloves, jersey, trousers etc.
This country is in another league every way. It's tough, shockingly so compared with all the previous countries, and we,re not as fit as we thought we might after the previous 2222km. But the payoff is that it is beautiful. Small elegant harbour towns at the end of drop dead fjords and forests. The quay full of people coming in to do their grocery shopping in speedboats. Usually being driven by a 7 year old. It is a friendly and modest country. Only evidence of the oil money seen so far was a wedding party in Risor fitted out in Louboutins. And that was just the groom. We asked him as he set off on his commandeerd harbour ferry where the bride was. He replied they were going to " pick her up". We believe they had no idea who she would be and were simply going to raid the out islands till they found a comely wench. Old habits die hard round here.

40 Days and 40 Nights

Undoubtedly many of you think we are on holiday, but we cam assure you that this is far from the truth. The goal is Bergen and we are relentless in its pursuit. Riding nearly every day we have mostly been favoured by the road gods with dry days. But they play with us. One only has to say " this bit seems flat" and round the corner they will have dropped in the north face of the Eiger.
Looking back Swedens's plus points were Gothenberg,fab city, and family run bakers in every town ( Mrs bun the baker is alive well here, Britain's loss.) We cycled 400k in Sweden and never saw anything less than affluence. Jill thinks its a triumph of Socialism. Andrew thinks if that's what produces Ferraris and large yachts he is going to have reconsider his politics.

Islands in the sun (mostly)

Well we have done from gothenberg to the Norwegian border via Bohusan islands. So beautiful. If God won gold star for designing the Norwegian fjords then this coast gets a highly commended. But the best way to visit them is by boat, then car then possibly kayak - but maybe not ideal by bike. There are a few good roads populated by speedy young Swedes in highly expensive fast cars. Scary. Good market opportunity for speed cameras ( see which side we are on at the moment!). Jill has had a couple of meltdowns - and some of them have been touchingly when I have been cut up by some truck, RV or  convertible Audi.
We found two quiet spots at Malo and then Valo (spot the pattern?). First by a lake - fell asleep to sound of waves lapping on the rocks. Second a small island - cheap room, humoungously expensive food, a rehearsal for Norway.
Yesterday there was a huge thunderstorm, which seems to have hatched every mosquito known to man. A new challenge ,especially for Jill as they prefer her, but then who doesn't?
Sorry no more pictures until we find safe computer.

Meals and miles

Our world has got very small. Our main preoccupations are where we are going to stay and, especially in my case, what we are going to eat. This is the first time Andrew has experienced what happens to me when I get hungry. I turn into a feral, obsessed, harpy and he has learnt that life isn't worth living unless food is found immediately. Now there is always something in the saddlebags. The campsites all have kitchens, sometimes with individual cooking islands and dining tables so our routine is to arrive somewhere, check out what pots and pans they have in the kitchen and then whizz off to the shop pronto. Sometimes Andrew even gets some help putting up the tent if i've been fed first.

My obsession means that my criteria for judging how much I like the different countries I've visited are strangely linked to food. Denmark? Great pastries but no open coffee shops anywhere, ever. Germany? Massive portions but only any good if you like fleisch and lager and I fall off my bike after one lager. Sweden? Knackerbread is better than it sounds and a girl can get a taste for pickled herring.

Sweden is ahead on points because we found a fantastic restaurant on our arrival in Goteburg. Chiefly by avoiding all the crowds of graduating High school students all arriving in town on lorries with music blaring from massive speakers. I am now in a position to evaluate the relative strengths of Polish rap (from our notorious first night camping in Zandervoort) and Swedish rap.

Anyway because the sun has come out (and we are staying in a real house with rooms) we have changed our tactical approach to the trip. Instead of checking off the maximum number of kilometres we can manage every day (a daily average of 60km since you ask) we are now retiring from the tour du norse in favour of a more island hopping, ferry riding sort of amble through Sweden. Or maybe this is just a cunning ruse to put off the evil gradients of Norway the Swedes are all delighted to tell us about.

Gratuitous lake shot

One for the lads perhaps?