The first raindrops hit the windshield as we were approaching Fredrikstad, our first stop in Norway. That’s ok, I thought. This was our third trip. We’d already seen most of the “must-see” sights so this time there was no pressure for us to follow a strict itinerary. We’d just go with the flow. Surely, we’d be able to find a place with nice weather in this vast country. And if not, we’d wait for a day or two and spend an occasional rainy day working. Better in a mobile office than in a home office. After all, that was one of my arguments for “four weeks of Norway” when I was persuading my husband to take yet another trip.
I don’t think he believed the “go with the flow” part. He was, after all, aware, that I’ve been adding flags to my “Norge unseen” Google Map for the past two years, just in case an opportunity like this came up again.
In my head the plan was to make our way to Romsdalen and Trollveggen, do a couple of hikes around there, then continue to Trollheimen and Innerdalen for more hiking. After that we’d decide whether we’d head further up north along the Kystriksveien or back to the fjords and Vestland coast – plenty of saved flags in both directions. And hardly something you’d call a “no-plan”.
A plan or no-plan – if it’s built around finding good weather it assumes there’s good weather to be found.
My determination that this would work out just fine started crumbling as soon as we reached Trollveggen. A look at the weather app led to a sobering realisation:
It can rain all the way along the coast from Stavanger to Tromsø
It was hopeless. No sunshine for the next 10 days anywhere within our reach. Or at least no consistent sunshine. At best, an occasional afternoon without rain and some sun. Anyway, nothing worth chasing – and we’d have gone a long way for the right forecast. Where to move next?
We chose the direction of Ålesund. The plan was solid: spend the last sunny day hiking the Midsundtrappene, then ride out two days of rain in Ålesund, which offered enough interesting indoor places to keep us busy. After that, the forecast promised two dry days with a chance of sunshine. That meant hiking on Godøya and puffins on Runde.
As soon as we reached Godøya we learned that our plan had a flaw, one that had nothing to do with rain. And with that came another lesson:
When checking the forecast, always check for wind too
The sun did show, but at the same time the wind was so strong that for the first time I feared being tipped over in our motorhome. Hiking was out of the question. So was waiting for puffins to return to their nests on a cliff somewhere on Runde.
This led to another realisation of this trip:
Our outdoor enthusiasm only goes as far as the weather
We love being active, but only as long as we’re actually enjoying it. Hiking in poor visibility, climbing those smooth rocks in rain, cycling in 10 degrees and wind: I don’t count any of that as fun. And I certainly don’t subscribe to the Norwegian saying about there being no bad weather, just bad equipment. It was invented for them, not for us, ‘regular’ people.
It slowly dawned on me: we would have to adapt to the weather, not the other way around. Constantly refreshing the weather app would be just as helpful as trying to force the weather to change through visualisation and positive thinking.
We made the decision to head inland, away from the fjords and the coast, to the drier mountain plateaus around Dovrefjell and Rondane National Park. But first we had to find a place to fill up our propane gas bottle. As it turned out:
You can run out of gas for heating in the middle of summer in Norway
It was a scenario that we discussed and dismissed as impossible before our trip. Had we known the night temperatures would drop below 10°C, as they did on Dovrefjell, we’d have filled the half-empty bottle before leaving. Better yet, we’d have left with both full.
At last, things began to pick up. Moving slowly south, we finally saw more sunshine and warmer temperatures. We could sit outside for long evenings again, watching the sun set, just like I remembered from the previous two trips. For me, this came with its own kind of grief: I was still hung up on all those flags that would remain “Norge unseen” in my Google Maps.
So, was it that bad?
No. While the rest of Europe was basking in the first heatwave of the year, we could sleep blissfully, admittedly sometimes with socks on. I was much less sleep-deprived than during our previous trips, not having to wait for the golden light of late summer evenings. Cloudy days meant good light for photos any time of day. And we had many more slow breakfasts and relaxed coffees than usually on the road. More than enough time to reflect on what kind of traveller I am. All I will say is:
I am not a go-with-the-flow person.
Looking back through the photos now, though, there’s more sunshine in them than this post lets on. This just wasn’t the trip I’d pictured, flags and all. It was a different one.
So would I go back, even if the weather were the same? In an instant. Someone has to take care of all those unseen flags…
Travel-Sehnsucht 