Day 9 – Lofoten

Our 9th day in Norway opened with me rising slightly early to prepare a breakfast of banana pancakes (in the American style) for us all. The small kitchen was supplied with a beautifully heavy frying pan in cast-iron, which was perfect for pancakes (and had made short work of the Welsh cakes the evening before).

Much of the early talk was dominated by discussion of the best frame rates at which to capture and playback our time lapse videos; a hazard of going on trips with alumni of an engineering faculty. Nina, despite being the first to bed the previous evening, was the last to rise having been tired out by the previous day’s driving. Thanks to a (relatively) early night and forgetting to set an alarm, she had managed a full 12 hours (it is a holiday after all); rising just as I was finishing up cooking the last pancake.


Alas I had forgotten that Nina doesn’t favour breakfast, so it was just Chris, the duck and I that tucked in.

We decided to make for the ferry at Melbu rather than drive back up [vest] and take the tunnel to the Lofoten islands. This saved considerable driving, and allowed us a far more relaxed trip than would otherwise have been the case.


The weather was once again on our side and we were bathed in brilliant sunshine, and in the car we were actually becoming rather warm as we headed for the ferry quay on the southern tip of the island. With an eclectic mix of rock, country & western, 80s synth, classical and metal tunes pumping steadily from the stereo it was glorious to be on the road again.


The short hop on the ferry doubled as a coffee stop. As we sipped our warm drinks I found that I still hadn’t gotten over the clarity of the water.


As we drew towards the quay on the far shore, one group of rocks reminded me of ‘Tracey Island’ from Thunderbirds, because of its colours and the gorgeous blues of the water surrounding it.


Once landed we began our journey down the E10; a highway running all the way down the spine of the archipelago; each island connected to the next by tall bridges (that allow shipping to pass beneath). We drove along under a blue sky, following the road as it wound around the northern shore of [austvagoy] the first island in the chain of mountainous little islands. The video shows around 13minutes of journey, time-lapsed into 20seconds (available in high definition).

As the road swept around fjords and lakes we gazed upon brilliant shimmering light reflecting off the deep blue water, set against the dark rock and snow of the surrounding peaks.

Before we knew it (time passes surprisingly fast when you are agape at your beautiful surroundings) we were in the [Svolvaer], one of the larger settlements on the islands. We had, for a time, been considering taking the Hurtigruten to here, taking in the legendary Troll fjord which is only accessible by sea (or climbing a few mountains). Following a “parking space safari” around town, we stopped to lunch at a picnic bench in the harbour, enjoying the tasty leftovers of the dinner and breakfast prepared the previous night in the cabin. Without any particular intention of doing so we had prepared stuff that is also tasty cold.


It was whilst wandering the harbour that the sharp (but pleasing, at least to me) contrast between the warm sunshine and cool arctic breeze became apparent. In the still air of the car, one could easily believe one’s self to be in the warmth of a Mediterranean tourist-trap. Here though stepping out into the moving air of the harbour brings a refreshing coolness (and a gentle aroma of brine).

This was also our first encounter with the perhaps somewhat eccentric (although the locals would protest at such a description) of drying fish. Great wooden racks are hung with large quantities of fish. Although the structures are skeletal, the two across the harbour from us appeared solid, so packed with fish were they. After lunch in the harbour air which carried a chill which was beginning to, if not bite, at least nibble we headed into a coffee shop. As we sat enjoying cappuccino, and musing over the peculiar Norwegian custom of serving tea in tumblers it struck me that things had really started to gel; being on adventure in interesting places with good friends.

From [Svolvaer] we headed to the Lofoten Aquarium. Being outside of the season the place seemed deserted, and we began to doubt that they were even open.

Just in case they weren’t we headed up their excellent viewing platform first, it overlooks the seal tank as well as the surrounding bay.

When we headed inside we found the curator, who assured us that the aquarium was indeed open, and was all too happy for us to look around (even giving us a discount).

One notable thing is that the aquarium had a number of ‘Touch pools’ in which sea creatures could actually be handled (without any particular supervision). The inclusion of ‘sea scorpions’ in one such tank did put me off though.
The aquarium had the usual array of sea creatures, from the shimmering and elegant to the tough and ugly.


The definite stars of the show were the seals; they glided through their tank with phenomenal speed.


Important Norway fact: Norway has seals, seals are cute.


Timing the shots as they swam by the viewing windows was also a bit of a game; quite challenging as the reflections on the glass necessitated manual focusing. (But on the bright side, I managed to get a seal-picture and a self portrait in one thanks to those same reflections).


Whilst we were watching feeding time came around, and (being as the place was so quiet) we were invited to stand with the keeper as he fed them. He told us that some of the seals were 20 years old, meaning that these were the same seals that Nina had seen here as a young girl.


Mmmmmmm, fish.

When we headed out on the road again we made for Henningsvaer; a place recommended by Nina’s aunt, who lives on the islands.

As we headed down road 816 towards the small settlement of Henningsv[ae]r the first clouds of the day began to threaten. Shafts of light descended onto the sea, making a striking scene.


The quaint settlements is on a string of tiny islands, close to the main chunk of [Austvagoy], and is well known for its glass blowing. Its small harbour is known as “the Englishman’s harbour” (though Chris didn’t seem to feel any particular sense of ownership over it, despite being the only Englishman present). I thought it curious how the other famous glass blowing town I have visited (Caithness) is in quite a similar environment; the Scottish highlands. There were even a few examples of the glass balls containing bubbles, for which Caithness Glass is known.


Norway is a very welcoming place... just don’t steal their parking spots.


After a look around town, we headed for lunch at a local restaurant whose soup was mentioned in the Lonley planet book. With the guide books recommendation in one hand, and the fact that every other establishment in town was closed in the other, the writing was on the wall; it was soup time. (please note the author accepts no responsibility for nausea caused by terrible puns). Chris, in an attempt to not be a ‘sheep’ opted for the days’s special; a fish burger, but regretted it as the soup lived up to its reputation. Our inept attempts at learning Norwegian led to us practicing ‘Fiske soupe’ the rest of the day.


Our return up the very scenic 816 in time-lapse. On our way to Leknes, we passed through the small settlement of “Borg”, ticking off my standard “visit somewhere with a Star Trek related name” item from the trip itinerary.

At the petrol station at Leknes we obtained directions to a town where there were more [Bryggs] (sea-side cabins) available for hire; Ballstad, on the southern tip of the island.

Being out of season still, we encountered another empty reception; once again though a quick call to the number left chalked up on the door. The reception was actually, very interesting in and of its self; the room was decorated with antique ships tackle and curios, juxtaposed against a rack of modern fishing rods, and a windsurf suspended from the ceiling.

The cabin we found was a real gem. It was large, comfortable, had another very well equipped kitchen and was painted in pastel blue and white gloss paints. There were just enough nicks and wear in the paint to give it a feeling of having been lived in, which just added to the charm of the place. I couldn’t quite get over how, in addition to the typical mugs and glass tumblers, wine glasses, shot glasses and champagne flutes were also provided.


The windows overlooked the harbour. Nearby stood many fish-drying racks, which produced a pungent and distinctive odour, but it was not unpleasant.

The evening was relaxing we cooked a ‘Grandiosa’ frozen pizza in the oven and sat around the dining table to talk. We rounded out the night with a game of ‘crazy caterpillars’.