Guest Blog: Bike-Packing Across Scandinavia at 64 (Days 19 and 20)

Day 19: Larvik, Norway

25 June 2024: Tuesday (3 miles, 492 total miles, 105 miles by ferry)

We should all be more grateful for what we have. At home, I have kept a gratitude diary for the past two or three years. It has helped me keep perspective. Every morning (or almost every morning) I spend 10 or 15 minutes writing what I am grateful for. 

Today, sitting here at this kitchen table in this rented apartment in Hirtshals, I am grateful for the opportunity to ride across Scandinavia. To experience the nature, wildlife, culture, people, architecture. To have this good cup of coffee by my side. The cognitive ability to process and understand what I encounter. To have a relatively good memory. Relatively good health. Loved ones that give life meaning. 

Today was fun!

Larvik, Norway is 105 miles directly north from here. The ferry ride is 3.5 hours. 

Without WIFI, my transfer of photos and videos to Instagram and update of the blog was hamstrung. I did as much as I could, and then washed all of the dishes, except a skillet, lid, and a glass. I wiped off the counter and table, and cleaned the stove. I figured I had gone above and beyond, since I was paying a $21 cleaning fee. 

I parked Heidi out the back door, packed her, and left the apartment to explore the marina a little. 

I passed through the ticket booth at the Color Line entrance and followed the yellow painted line on the blacktop to Lane A, where I snuggled next to motorcycles in Lanes A and B. I noticed an American accent from a man on a white trike motorcycle. 

He was originally from California but now lived in Germany with his German wife. The couple in front of me and the man to my right were all from France. An Asian man settled in behind me on a motorcycle and two women and another man all on bikes. 

I settled on the pavement and started reading to pass the next two hours. To be honest, I was quite content to ensure that I was in the right place and well in advance. Even the book I started was good: Winter World by AG Riddle.

Around 12:20 pm, we started boarding. We rode right into the belly of the ferry. I strapped Heidi in and went upstairs. As soon as we set sail, the cafeterias opened up. I bought a sausage, Pepsi Max, and a chocolate muffin before settling down at a table with an electrical outlet. Internet was going to cost $7 or so, so I went the rest of the trip without any access to the internet. The sausage was superb. 

During the 3.5 hour trip, I bought a cup of coffee (not very good) and sat down by a window and watched the sea as we crossed her; I walked out on deck and sat in the sun for a while reading and enjoying the nice weather; I went inside and bought a Pepsi Max and ice cream bar; and sat in one of the lounges and read. 

When the announcement that we had arrived in Larvik was broadcast over the loudspeakers, I was one of the first down to the vehicle platforms. I unbound Heidi, put her camera back on her, and got in the saddle behind several motorcycles. 

About 4:45 pm, I rode out of the belly of the ferry and into Larvik, Norway, a city of 48,000. An old man sitting in a mobility scooter waved tiny Norwegian and British flags to greet us. (I filmed it, but deleted it by accident.) 

The first day in a new country can be a little disconcerting. For those of us attached to our GPSs, we have a hard time getting our bearings until we get a new SIM card. I know there are eSIMs, but I haven’t figured that one out yet. Without the GPS, I couldn’t find my apartment for the night. So, I peddled from store to store until I found a Circle K that sold a pre-paid SIM card. The young woman and man who operated the shop didn’t know how to use the card, so I connected to their internet and sat down and figured it out. I topped up the card to give me 50 GB, hopefully enough to last me until I leave Norway in about 10 days. 

According to the GPS, I could now see that the apartment was about seven blocks away. But there were no food store or restaurants nearby. I bought a couple of items at the Circle K, thanked the youth workers, and peddled on. 

I came to a monster hill about three blocks before the apartment and had to push Heidi all the way up. When I arrived at the house, the garage door was open full of storage items, and a woman and man were carrying furniture from a van to the back side of the house. Besides the open garage door, there were three more doors. One that entered the first floor of the house, one that entered the basement, and one that entered the basement apartment. 

I got into the apartment with no problem, rested Heidi against the desk, and ate my third sausage of the day. It was really good. These Scandinavians really know how to make a sausage. I gotta hand it to them.

Then, I read Maria’s review of the apartment in Hirtshals. She wrote, “He left the kitchen a little messy.” That miffed me. If leaving a skillet, lid, and water glass in the sink was a little messy, then what was I paying the $21 cleaning fee for? Was I to clean the entire apartment and pay the cleaning fee? 

As I was trying to book the accommodations for tomorrow in Tonsberg, I found one apartment that was $55/night with a $75 cleaning fee. I wondered if I cleaned it when I left, would the owner pay me $20 to say there. 

I was so happy with this apartment. It had WiFi. So updated my blog, transferred photos, uploaded my edited videos, and communicated with my family in the US. 

Before I knew it, 8 pm was upon me. I climbed into bed and read until 9pm, when I fell asleep. It had been a fun day!

Håkons gate 92, Larvik, Vestfold 3258, Norway ($85/day)

Day 20: Tonsberg, Norway (25 miles, 517 total miles, 800 foot incline)

26 June 2024: Wednesday

They say that men never grow up; they just get more expensive toys. I think there is a lot of truth to that. In my case, it’s an expensive habit. I try to keep costs down where I can. I paid about $500 for a used bike, which I will sell when I leave. But I bought new tires, saddle bags, and accessories. I buy groceries at discount stores, but in Scandinavia, all food is expensive. I eat at fast food restaurants. Today, I paid $18 for a sandwich and soft drink. But it was a darned good Philly Steak Cheese.

Hotels in Norway have proven really expensive here. I have not really come across any cheap ones like I have found in Sweden and Denmark. But the AirBnBs are cheaper here, it seems than the other countries. So far, at least. You just have to be careful with the “cleaning fees.” 

My room for tonight, for example, is $42 with no cleaning fees. But I have 35 miles to cover before I can get there.

Taking advantage of the good internet at this really nice apartment, I caught up on my blogs and transferred all of my photos. I texted Anja at the $42 room in Tonsberg, and asked if I could check in early. So, I left a little early: 9:31 am. 

No sooner had I pushed Heidi onto the pavement than the GPS instructed me to continue on in the direction I had started yesterday. So, the first three blocks of hill that I pushed yesterday were only part of a larger hill. 

I didn’t even try to ride it. I pushed for another block then climbed on Heidi. Immediately, I began enjoying the slow morning traffic and warm temperature. It was already 65 degrees despite the overcast gloom. 

Before long, I hit another large hill. I rode up it, but had to stop a couple times to catch my breath. Out side of town, I encountered another large hill. I overcame that one the same way. 

From that point forward, it was smooth riding with one exception. With 13 miles to go, a 30-something man breezed past me and a couple minutes later a younger kid breezed past me. I picked up my speed, not wanting to be seen as this old codger who couldn’t keep up. When the last kid turned left and went up a small hill instead of going straight into town, I did too. But the hill turned a corner and led to more hill, and before long the 30-something and the younger kid were nowhere in sight. Worse yet, I realized that I should have gone straight instead of following the young whipper snappers left and up the hill. 

I now had 14 miles to go. I whipped back down a perpendicular road, coasting at a pretty good speed, curved around a roundabout, and got back on track, literally. Still had 14 miles to go. 

This was all rural riding with a narrow, but adequate, bike lane. I peddled at a pretty good speed most of the way. The hills I encountered were either small or gradual. I only stopped at road construction, twice, and to take a restroom break. Otherwise, I was doing well.

With about two miles to go to my destination, the sun finally came out. A little late, but I would accept it. Today would end up reaching 70 degrees, which was my warmest day yet. 

I reached Anja’s house around noon. She met me at the street with a patient, motherly smile (although younger than I) and led me to the back yard. I parked Heidi beside other bikes under a shed, locked the back wheel to the frame with the bike chain.

“We’re close to the city center… That’s why” someone might try to steal it. 

Bjorn, Anja’s husband, sat on the steps at the back. His black beard draped at least a foot below his chin. His 300 pound frame was wrapped in a loose, black garment, and he wore a head covering over his hair and ears. He seemed 20 years younger than Anja. At first I thought he was Muslim, but it reminded me more of an Eastern Orthodox monk clothing.

Anja explained that the man smoking a few feet away was a repairman “working with my husband.” 

Anja walked me back around front, where we entered the house, unhooked a movie theater rope labeled  AIRBNB from the top of narrow spirals stairs, and we descended into what felt like the belly of a submarine. 

Inside and out the home was a mismatch of collectables—like Turkish rugs, sailor’s bunks (that I slept on), wooden trunk, books in Norwegian, German, French, and English—and items they couldnt’ bring themselves to give away—rusting scooters, bricks, cardboard and masking tape model of a barn, exercise machine, and two rooms of “storage” next to the AirBnB room I was renting. 

A wraparound shower curtain scantily covers bottom of the circular stairs to lend a hint of privacy. Yet one can hear each footstep, each cough, each word spoken on the first floor in this region of the house. 

But I don’t mind for one night. For $42, what can you expect. I am happy for the private bathroom. 

I charge my dying phone enough in the hopes of lasting a visit to the New Taj Mahal restaurant, Apotec pharmacy, and Meny supermarket and back. 

At a few minutes to 1pm, I reached the Indian restaurant. It doesn’t open till 2pm, contradicting the GPS’s information. So, I walk the charming cobblestone streets.  

An overweight man in his 70s with no right arm climbs a steep street carrying a bag of groceries with his left. He has to stop to catch his breath twice by the time I pass him. 

I finally land at Nach’s sandwich joint. The owner is busy unloading box after box of supplies from a rack on wheels. When he is done, he leaves the cart to block the entrance. I peek through the window and see the tiny place is empty.

“Are you open?” I asked. 

“Yep,” he responded with his back to me. 

I am about ready to leave almost a minute later when he comes and moves the cart. He doesn’t look me in the eye or smile. But walked directly behind the cash register.

I order a Philly Steak sandwich and a soft drink. I pay. And he disappears behind the grill. I sit and pick up in the novel where I left off last night. 

After five minutes he sits a basket with the sandwich and one napkin. There are no napkins on the table (only one big table in the shop) or on the counter. 

A delivery man struggles with two more large wheeled racks of supplies as gravity pulls them down the hill outside the shop. He is losing the battle. I start to run and help him when the owner rushes out and grabs onto a rack. 

This could be the best PSS, I have ever eaten. It is delicious. I don’t know if you have ever had a PSS or not, but I can tell you: One napkin is not enough. 

I want to ask him for a couple more napkins, but the owner is engrossed in his deliveries. And he has yet to look me in the eye or smile. 

When I leave, I amble around the downtown. I buy some hand cream in a pharmacy because the rash on my hands is worse than before. Not as bad as it was in Vietnam, but still bad. I didn’t use gloves today, hoping that would help. 

Then, I go Meny’s supermarket and buy a few items for the night. There is no kitchen, so I buy a small bowl discounted hot pasta for an evening meal, which will be cold by the time I am hungry again. Only $4. What a bargain. 

At the room, I shower and then spend two hours trying to book a train ticket to Bodo above the Arctic Circle, but it won’t accept either one of my credit cards. I call both banks in the US, but they say the charges have not been rejected. So, I give up.

In the meantime, two AirBNB hosts do not respond to my requests. So I book an apartment on Booking.com for $92 including tax. But when I ask if I can check in earlier than the 4pm standard check in time, they respond that 2pm is the earliest, but I have to pay a $20 fee. Then, they send me a notification that I have to verify my ID (for my own protection) by going online, showing my passport, and letting them take a photo of me, and all kinds of other requirements. 

By now, it is after 6pm, and I am frustrated. This is no fun. These are the hassles that frustrate me in the US. And elsewhere. 

So, I calm myself by eating my cold pasta, drinking my tepid Pepsi Max, and reading. The book just keeps getting better, but by 7:30pm, I can’t keep my eyes open. I know that going to sleep early will lead to waking up early, and there is no advantage to that. I can’t check in early at the next place…

I am asleep a few minutes after 8pm. 

Huitfeldts gate 1, Tønsberg, Vestfold og Telemark 3116 ($42/night)