Category: Trip Reports
A few hours wandering about the north wall of Great Langdale
4th September 2018 2016 was a very full year. There was a lot of Irish business to be completed along with two political upheavals and a new job that I now realise was not a match for me. Towards salving the last of these, there were no less than three overseas trips with on each to Austria, Norway and Mallorca. Even with these and maybe because of them, I still did not feel that I was getting the emotional space that I craved so much. It set the scene for changes in 2017 that led to the start of a career break.
This post tells the tale of another trip that preceded the personal tumult of 2017 while coming after the global turbulence of 2016 and in the midst of finishing the personal work for the year. It, too, was a reminder that not all was well with my lifestyle and there was another in the form of an inability to stop spending on some things as if the future never existed. Looking back on this now, I realise that it was caused by a lack of personal emotional space caused by having too much happening in my life. That theme was to result in some adjustment in subsequent years.
To avert any loss in motivation, I booked a single room in YHA Ambleside so I travelled up there by train and bus on Saturday. A later departure meant that I arrived in the dark, but that did not stop me strolling about the place. After all, the shore was near at hand and I even got into the heart of Ambleside, which was a kilometre or two away; in spite of the name, the hostel is found at Waterhead on the shore of Lake Windermere. A fish supper was enjoyed too, a rare thing for me these days. For the way back, I should have had my head torch for going along a darkened lane though I came to no harm because of my risk taking.
After all that, I settled down for the night and arose next morning to a pleasing scene. Between 08:00 and 09:00, the sun leisurely arose. Before this all started, I made a solitary photo that recorded a peaceful scene on Windermere with the sky having a rosy hue about the frosted grassland. This also preceded breakfast and I was lured out again after that to savour a scene whose tinting was changing from red to blue. Cloud cover steadily broke as I did so and, after collecting my belongings and checking out, it was time to await a bus to Great Langdale.
It may have been down to thinking of exploring the place at the wrong time but I never had much luck with seeing Great Langdale in bright sunshine. Admittedly, the visits have been few with the first being on a walk from Borrowdale that took in the Scottish sounding Langstrath and that was followed by a winter wander from Great Langdale to Ambleside. Both were greeted by grey skies. More often than not, I viewed the distinctive Langdale Pikes while on other hikes so it was not before time that I saw them up close in favourable conditions.
The bus dropped me at its terminus near the Old Dungeon Ghyll Hotel. Frosted grass told a story of a preceding cold night on the valley bottom and the following morning was little warmer. This was more than a little noticed as I pottered along the flat ground by Great Langdale Beck between Old Dungeon Ghyll Hotel and New Dungeon Ghyll Hotel. In fact, I was reproaching my forgetfulness when it came to having gloves. Local shepherds were moving their flock, something had me wondering if such an act could not have been done on another day. After letting them on their way, I shortened the distance to Stickle Ghyll while warming my hands as well as I could.
Following what had been a largely quiet interlude, I joined the busy path up to Stickle Tarn. The gradient was testing and it helped little that the perceived throng stopped me from stopping as much as I would have liked. Passing and re-passing the same people needed energy so I was not willing to allow that to happen so readily. The others were bound from the tarn with some continuing to the top of Pavey Ark. After the fleshpot, quieter surroundings were sought and found. The distraction had its uses for my hands warmed on the ascent while the presence of snow patches attempted to belie any sense of the day having become that little bit warmer too.
Looking back on what happened next, it might have been that the expected right of way was not a path on the ground, but even having a GPS receiver could not stop me veering off it. A determined effort could have addressed this, as I was to find afterwards in similar circumstances on the moors between Bamford and Hathersage in Derbyshire. Then, I stuck with the line almost regardless of what lay underfoot. Returning to its Cumbrian predecessor, I took the hint and adopted a freestyle approach. In any case, there were multiple paths so it was a case of picking one that went in the desired direction and the benign weather allowed for such an approach.
My wandering course took me around by Blea Rigg and Great Castle How. Though it was afternoon at this point, it was around these that I gained the most satisfaction. Few were about so I could amble as I liked and the momentary sense of relaxation was just what I needed with wonderful views round about me. Windermere could be seen to the south while both Codale Tarn and Easedale Tarn lay below me in the growing afternoon shadows. It did not matter that I ought to have been beside them and not above them as I was.
What began to occupy my mind was finding a way down to the eastern end of Easedale Tarn. Once the initial steepness of the chosen descent was past, it was replaced by more gentle slopes as I negotiated the way to the track by Sourmilk Gill. The sun may have been lowering all the while but I had daylight with me and there were a few others passing the way but in nothing like the numbers encountered on the way up to Stickle Tarn.
All navigational travails were behind me, for the clarity of a defined track aided passage as much as the onset of a quiet lane. The surrounding land was falling increasingly into shadow, but my timing was good when I got to Grasmere. There even was some time for self-tidying before the next bus to Windermere. The air may have been cooling again but I was on my way soon enough.
That afternoon had provided a much-needed interlude that was the forbear of longer ones like a subsequent springtime sabbatical and a longer career break. The identification of a need for more personal emotional space became a search that remains ongoing. It even seeps into how I approach work these days and a spot of quiet time among Cumbrian fells became the start of an ongoing journey.
What has not happened so far is the incorporation of repeat visits to that itinerary. Vantage points like Lingmoor Fell, Pavey Ark and Harrison Stickle all take my fancy and should add the familiarity whose absence was felt while figuring out what subjects were in the photos selected for this trip report. Doing so in similarly sunny and serene condition would add to such experiences and I would return in hope of such things. Life still needs quieter moments.
Travel Arrangements
Train journey between Macclesfield and Windermere. Bus service 555 from Windermere to Ambleside and from Grasmere to Windermere. Bus service 516 from Ambleside to Great Langdale.
Autumn reflections
30th August 2018 There have been a few nights this week that possessed the chill of autumn and some trees already are losing their spring and summer colouring. In fact, I picked two early conkers on a walk this evening. Meteorologists may prefer us to wait until the start of September but I always wonder if autumn really starts in the middle of August. Some I overheard talking about turning on their heating may not disagree with me so strongly.
It is strange how we assign the summer months because when it comes to hours of daylight, August in some ways is a mirror image of April. The main difference generally is the residual heat remaining after June and July, something that can hold until the start of November. This past summer has been exceptional so it is not that the school year starts after a break without its share of sunshine even if August came damp.
For whatever reason, I can get ideas about fresh restarts around this time. It might be that there is a lull during September or the start of those school, college and university years but my mind can fill with possibilities while bemoaning that such things often are stymied by a decline in energy coinciding with growing hours of darkness. It often feels like a brief burst of energy before other things take hold.
The latter has me wondering about a midwinter getaway since I did not have an overseas trip this summer because of other concerns. This line of thought also emerged two years ago and there was a trip to Mallorca with some walking that in on my radar for a forthcoming trip report. Other possibilities will be assessed and enough time allowed so as not to have 2019 began like 2017 when a heavy cold weighed me down.
2018 has been a busy year for me with a move into self-employment taking up the summer months and a series of property maintenance tasks in Ireland that were planned during the career break that I began in August 2017. The last part of 2016 came busy with Irish matters so that might not have helped the start of the next year either. As I look to the rest of this year, I hope that work will remain steady enough for me to focus on other things like getting out and about in any good weather that comes. Life has become an adventure again and that blows away any staleness that once may have beset me.
Getting to know Norway: Part 3
28th August 2018 There is something about spending around a week in a place that adds satisfaction to a trip. This is something that I have been discovering on trips to Ireland to get things done. The extra time allows for a chance to soak in the atmosphere of a place and feel more of a part of it. For that, though, you need to not overfill days with activity because that makes you so busy that nothing has any time to seep into your spirit.
That reminds me of a recent trip to Ireland where it was possible to stop awhile and go for strolls in addition to the other things that I needed to do. People were met and things organised, but there was enough time to feel more at one with where I was. Other stays have been as long in duration over the last twelve months, and they have left their mark in a manner that an extended weekend trip would never do.
A relaxed pace often helps. Thinking back to Scottish trips like the one that took me to Na h-Eileanan nan Iar ten years ago, they had defined itineraries, but hill wandering added the slack which allowed me to look around and take in the sights and the ambience of where I was. Just rushing along would never do that, and the much-needed recollections of peaceful islands would have been lost. Such is the state of the world right now, that any memories that restore peace and calm are all the more invaluable.
Oddly, no outing since that Hebridean escapade has exceeded its Sunday to Sunday eight day length and none came close until June 2017 when I enjoyed a six-day sojourn in Norway from Sunday to Friday. Following the August 2016 Friday to Monday four day encounter, this stay was to allow some added breathing room after I noticed how short its predecessor had been. There are other compensations too, for it starts to fill like a proper break after about the third day and any extra days embed a certain sense of discontinuity that really helps for a fresh restart once back into the everyday routine. After what has happened in my life over the past decade, that is relished all the more readily these days.
2017-06-05: More time around Oslo
An afternoon flight from a stuffy and busy Manchester Airport got me to Oslo. If I had known better, I would have stayed on the train from Oslo's airport longer to get closer to where my hotel was. The day had been damp but remained dry as I undertook the longer than expected walk from Oslo sentralstasjon through the city's heart, and my tardiness was noted by the hotel receptionist before I was compensated with the largest hotel room that I ever occupied. It felt more like a two - room studio flat, so there was plenty of space to relax for a while.
The reason for the long trek that Sunday evening was the hotel's proximity to the Royal Palace (Det Kongelige Slott in Norwegian) and that helped to address some unfinished business from my previous visit to Oslo. The next morning brought bright sunshine, so it was time to start a whole day of exploration around Norway's capital city. Looking back through the photos now, it would be tempting to think that it was all sunshine, but there was a shower of rain in the middle of the day while I got something to eat.
My day started around the Royal Palace, though, and I realise that mornings were better for photographing its frontage because that is when sunlight falls on it. In 2016, I had hoped to do just that before catching my train to Bergen, but there was not enough time, so it had to wait. There were no time constraints the next time around, so I had the space that I needed, and it was a wrench to pull myself away for further exploring.
As I continued through the city centre, there was a feeling of closure, and it appeared that Norwegian public holiday observance was much like what they do on Sundays, since no large stores were open. The need to purchase a USB Type C cable for powering my Google Pixel C tablet had to wait until the next morning, but there was no time to be ruing my leaving the actual cable after me, for I wanted to see Akershus slott.
Getting there had me passing landmarks that I had seen before, like Domkirken, where I tarried a while. When I reached the Akershus fort, I spent some time there too, with the old buildings catching my eye as much as any views of Pipervika and the severe-looking towers of the Radhuset were unmissable. Their architectural style reminded me a little of Stockholm's Radhuset, and I was later to realise that Karl Johans gate lay not far behind Oslo's city hall. My previous wandering had taken indirect routes, but I was to uncover shorter ones.
One of those was to facilitate a trip to my hotel that preceded a boat trip around Oslofjord that took my fancy. The outing was not a cheap one, but it made a change from wandering about on foot. The boat may have looked like a sailing-vessel, but it was powered by a diesel engine and did what was needed. Greener and bluer surroundings were to be savoured in the sunshine before a return to land, where I did more pottering about in by now familiar places before I retired for the evening in advance of travel to Stavanger the following morning.
2017-06-06: Last-minute resilience has its rewards
It is possible to travel to Stavanger by train, but it is a journey that takes six or seven hours, so setting aside a day or travelling overnight would be involved. In the interests of time, I chose to fly, so I caught a train to Oslo airport from near the hotel and checked in for the short flight. That was a speedy and well automated affair, so I had time to pick up a power cable for my tablet, and the helpful assistant also saved me some money on my purchase.
On arriving in Stavanger, I caught a coach to the city centre, where I placed my main holdall into a luggage locker for later retrieval. Check-in for the hotel was not until later in the day, and I wanted to try my luck at getting onto a Lysefjorden boat trip. When I went to the provider's shop, I got news that they were booked out for that afternoon's sailing, so the omens were not good.
As befitted the outcome of my enquiry, the skies were grey with little sunshine, so I strolled along the quay-sides surveying the cruise liners that were docked there. Then, it occurred to me that going to the boat and asking for a space might be worthwhile, given that not all booked passengers do show up. So, I resolved to try my luck and got on the next sailing after some patient perseverance. It was just as well, given that rain was to dominate the weather for the following few days.
It also happened that I had some designs on walking around that part of Norway, so I fancied getting an introduction to where I was intending to go. The boat manoeuvred around the docked ships with such agility that it was intriguing to watch, and I then realised why the boat had wing mirrors. One around those obstacles, we were on our way.
The boat entered more open water after going under the bridge carrying the main road to the islands of Sølyst, Engøy, Buøy and Hunvåg. Ferries were seen plying their ways, and we were accompanied by a smaller boat for much of our own journey. Passing more islands, we reached the opening of Høgsfjorden, where we entered to get to its tributary Lysefjorden. There was little sign of sun, or I would have been busy photographing sunlit islands to my heart's content, not that the surroundings were not beguiling without the added lighting.
Things got more interesting after Forsand, beyond which we passed under another road bridge. Bergsholmen was our next landmark, and the fjord grew wilder in appearance the further along its length that we went. There were various stops within the vicinity of Preikestolen to see waterfalls and such like, but it was the rocky outcrop itself that was the main event.
Once we started our return to Stavanger, it was easy to tell that the attentions of others were waning, for the sightseeing must have been done as far as they were concerned. For me, though, things only were getting going as sunshine had broken through the cloud cover to light up the surrounding hills. Though the episode did not last, there was plenty to photograph while it did. All the while, the Lauvikka to Forsand ferry plied its passage and there was a freight ferry full of articulated trucks carried in a more insecure way than I would have expected.
Soon enough, we were back on firm ground again, and I checked into my hotel. Electrical power in my room was limited until I discovered, until I made an enquiry of a hotel receptionist who told me what the "Hovedbrytter" switch. When I went back to offer my gratitude, I met someone different without realising it and caused some confusion before spotting the right person in the office behind her.
Putting that embarrassment behind me, I did more strolling around Stavanger while sunshine and blue skies had made their appearance. Later, I had some food while pondering the next few days would bring. Possibilities like hiking to Preikestolen or Kjerag would need to be selected according to the weather that came.
2017-06-07: Going Scandinavian in the rain
If I had any plans to go to Preikestolen on Wednesday, they were stymied by the predication of afternoon rain. The morning was dry, so it allowed some more strolling about Stavanger and a spot of shopping too. After a midday meal, I decided to brave the light rain to walk around some of Stavanger's lakes. In many ways, it was like what the Irish would call a "soft" day, and it was mild too.
There is a piece of Scandinavian wisdom about there being no such thing as bad weather, so long as you are clothed for the conditions. That was the approach that I took as I headed for Litla Stokkavatnet, but I hoped that there would some shelter from trees too, and so it proved when I started to go around the lake itself after getting there along urban streets. As I moved to the shore of the larger Stora Stokkavatnet, it was easy to get the impression that you were not in a city at all, but that this could have been a country location. That idea persisted as I made a brief visit to Hålandsvatnet because Friheim may as well have been a country hamlet.
Returning to Stora Stokkavatnet, I persisted with my anticlockwise circuit, even though coming off near Sanddal would have made it quicker to reach Mosavatnet. As I completed my way around, it was apparent that the evening rush hour was imminent because many were cycling in the opposite direction. The ambience had been pleasingly quiet, and this posse of cyclists did little to disturb that.
Eventually, I needed to leave my wooded lake-land surroundings after me to navigate towards Mosavatnet. Quieter lanes and cycle paths were my lot, and it took a little effort to orient myself properly at one junction over a busy road. Once that was achieved, I soon was at my intended destination.
Again, wooded lake shores were my lot, but there were more people out and about by this stage in the day. Quite a few of them were jogging, and no one seemed to notice the rain that much; that applied as much to groups of youngsters out training as it did to anyone else. The proximity of city streets and major building works meant that the feel of the place was not as rural as that around Stora Stokkavatnet, but that was overlooked as much as any temptation to take a shortcut back to my hotel again; this was to be another complete lake circuit.
Finding a quieter road, I left Mosavatnet to continue towards Breiavatnet and I soon started to recognise my surroundings as I got nearer to this lake that I had passed more than the others. After all, it is beside the bus and train stations, so I spent some time here the previous day. On this occasion, it was time to get back to the hotel and end my damp yet satisfying saunter.
2017-06-08: Two hikes in one day
My last full day in Norway allowed me to go hiking in wilder surroundings despite what felt like twenty-four hours of rain. Once I had dealt with some Irish matters by phone and email, I was on my way for a stretch of time away from any semblance of work. Lightening rain added to the hope of there being something special to savour.
After a ferry ride to Tau and a bus journey from there to Vatne, I was at my trailhead. Because I was destined for Preikestolen, this was no solitary trek given how famous the rocky outcrop happens to be. Nonetheless, I enjoyed a dry start in misty conditions, but rain was to return, so the walk was to become one where I was clad in waterproofs for much of the way. This made the ascent sweaty work and I needed to be aware of others around me too, not that there were no quieter stretches.
Looking through the photos that I captured, there is very little from the ascent, but I still recall moments like a phone call from my brother and the final approach to the viewpoint where you could see all around and wish for sunshine because it would have been so alluring. There was plenty of wet rock to traverse, and the conditions must have chivvied me into making near constant progress all the while.
What is etched in my mind is the poor visibility at Preikestolen itself, not that it deterred anyone from taking clichéd photos of each other. In my own mind, I like to think that the clag spared me from seeing anything like a sheer drop, so it was no disappointment to meet with it. People still must have remained there a while because what I remember of the descent is that it was quieter and there was one point where I was tempted to include a diversion to Moslifjellet but discounted it for reasons lost to me now.
It might have been galling for some, but the sun began to come out when I was back at Preikestolhytta, but I must have seen it as an opportunity for a second hike to follow the four-hour return trip to Preikestolen; anyone that stayed up there may have been rewarded by breaking, so who is to know what rewards ample patience can bring? While others relished such a thing, I had Revsvatnet in front of me, and it surrounded by a pleasing mix of bright greenery and craggy hillsides. Assessing how long it might take from the map that I had and how long I had before the last bus to Tau, I decided to hike around a lake in a much wilder aspect than anything that I had encountered the day before. There are other walking routes in the area, but I reckon that they would need more time to explore and taking one's time is best.
The lake circuit also granted me some solitary walking that was not my lot earlier in the day, and it was accompanied by morale-raising sunshine for most of the way, so my camera saw more use. The air might have dried, but the often boggy ground remained soaked, and any long vegetation was leg wetting. Even so, I continued along rough paths while keeping an eye out for any confirmatory splashes of red paint. That strategy worked well until a scramble threw me off track enough to cause disquiet in the woodland at the southern end of the lake before I regained the right path beside the Revsåna flowing towards Lysefjorden. Going along the river bank against the flow of water got me to a bridge near the lake shore and a sign for Preikestolhytta that soothed any loss of composure.
The path went up and down a lot as it passed several waterfalls, so that took its toll on tiring legs. Reaching the hut at Torsnes brought short-lived hopes of a broader and gentler track, but more path walking followed until I was back near Preikestolhytta again. Any hopes of catching the penultimate bus of the day to Tau suffered the same fate as those at Torsnes, so a longer wait in muggy midge-populated conditions was in order; it gave my system some much-needed rest. At least, I was awaiting the bus instead of being stranded by my own tardiness, and it was reassuring that I was not alone in my vigil. In fact, the others continued all the way back to Stavanger by the reverse of what had been my outbound route.
2017-06-09: Departure
While I might have liked to return home on a Saturday and gain an extra day, flight schedules scuppered that scheme, so I left on a wet Friday. Waiting in the hotel as long as possible did not stop my getting damp on my way from there to the bus station, from where I got to Stavanger's airport to start an air journey with a connection via Oslo. The experience was a reasonably painless one.
Overall, the trip satisfied me and imperfect weather was not a source of irritation; much had been savoured and Norway is better known to me. Unused schemes like a visit to Kjerag or travelling up the coast to Bergen may encourage another return yet should life settle down again and my overseas wanderings restart. Other parts of Norway are tempting too and visiting the Lofoten Islands or Jotunheimen National Park are just two examples, and I also would like to wander about the wooded and lake-studded hill country near Oslo itself. In a nutshell, there is more to draw me to Norway again.
Travel Arrangements
Trains between Macclesfield and Manchester Airport, as well as between Oslo and its main airport at Gardermoen. Outbound and return flights between Manchester and Oslo, and between Oslo and Stavanger. Coach travel between Stavanger and its airport. Return ferry trip between Stavanger and Tau, followed by a return bus journey between Tau and Vatne.
Making do with the weather that came
27th August 2018 After reproaching myself for not doing so for too many years, I set aside some time to explore part of the land of my birth and upbringing. Too often, any such excursions have been fitted in around other activities and needed to cater to the needs of others. It was time for some self-driven explorations of my own, and the idea of doing just that on a trip to West Limerick to attend to Irish business affairs. There was a past occasion when the weather had been so fine that I was tempted to stay on a coach heading for Galway rather than disembarking at Shannon Airport as planned. It was to set the scene for what I did on a six-day stay this summer. As luck would have, the extraordinarily hot sunny weather was gone and a more usual mix was my fare but I made the best of what I was allotted.
Perhaps unsurprisingly then, the city of Galway was my chosen base and its transport connections allowed me to explore a few places beyond its limits. The choices were numerous, so some filtering was in order given the time that I had. Of course, I got to stroll around the city too, with much of that happening on the day of my arrival. An evening of improving weather saw me find the coast near Claddagh and pop out to Mutton Island before venturing as far the perimeter of Salthill. The hills of north Clare lay across Galway Bay and the more extensive sunshine allowed for some photography.
The next day could not be more different and it was tricky to work out what to do, given the predicted rain. Nevertheless, I headed to the Cliffs of Moher where I hiked as far south as Signal Tower before returning north again to pass O'Brien's Tower and continue along the Burren Way as far as Doolin where I got something to eat before going as far as the pier to see where ferries leave for the Aran Islands and boat trips along the Cliff of Moher are offered. Though damp for much of the time from rain, drizzle and ocean spray, it had been a satisfying day out with the return coach journey taking in such sights as Dunguaire Castel near Kinvarra and Black Head near Ballyvaughan. There even was a short stop to take in the view down from near Corkscrew Hill, though I suspect it was the action of a canny bus driver to stop people standing on a moving coach to take photos of what lay before them.
Thankfully, the following day stayed dry until evening when heavy rain came. During the dry spell, I headed to Recess in hope of walking to the top of Lisoughter hill. However, the sight of a low cloud base made me reconsider my plans so I instead chose a shorter stroll that still gave the desired views over Lough Inagh and towards what could be seen of the clouded Twelve Bens while passing both Derryclare Lough and Glendollagh Lough. After that, I continued to Clifden where a coastal stroll was enjoyed though skies looked laden with moisture. Dark grey cloud cover had been my lot though there was some sunshine around Oughterard as I returned to Galway where some matters needed my attention.
The predicted heavy rain only lasted a few hours and left the next day completely dry so it was time for some longer hiking. This started from Maam Cross where I started along the R336 to reach the Western Way. Someone in a car stopped to ask if I was local but left me to carry on when he learned of my plan. A French family were milling around as I left the road to cross bogland on a bouncy plastic mat on the way to a Coillte forestry plantation. Then, I was led along a boardwalk that lasted for kilometres over a sodden landscape under grey skies with hilltops cloaked in cloud; it felt like a repeat of the previous day at this point. Lackavrea lay to my left all the way to the backs of the Folore River that I would shadow as far as the shore of Lough Corrib. One of the French visitors caught up with me to ask how far it was to the lake in broken English. Maybe I should have tried my French, but the required assistance was provided nonetheless. The boardwalk was left after me at the lake shore for a rough gravel track that lead to one with a smoother surface that itself conveyed me to the narrow road that I followed for the rest of the way to Oughterard. Progress along that was punctuated by various food stops, the first of which had me being wished "Bon Appétit" by someone who arrived in a car for a spot of strolling, and a side trip as far as Lough Seecon. Cloud broke, and the day grew more sunny to leave a fine weather dawdle around Oughterard before grey cloud cover grew again as I awaited a coach back to Galway.
There was one more full day to use after my trot along the Western Way and that allowed me to spend time wandering around Inishmore, the largest of the Aran Islands, with a coach and ferry combination getting me there and back. Once on the island, I found its quieter southern parts as I walked towards Dún Aonghasa. Light rain showers peppered the morning time before growing less frequent as the day progressed, and bright sunshine began to appear so that helped any photographic efforts. The clifftop fort was visited and I could have spent longer there but for my heightened desire to reach my desired ferry connection to the mainland. On the way back along the island's north shore, I found myself sharing a lane with cyclists and touring minibuses together with horse and trap excursions. As it happened, the horse traffic added odour to the journey courtesy of dung left on the tarmac. The journey had its busy moments, but there were quieter stretches too and I had some time to spare before catching the ferry to Rossaveal where I spent some more time before catching the coach back to Galway.
My departure happened the next morning, but there are reasons to return to this part of Ireland. Any lack of sunshine would not be the main cause because there remains much more to see. Sunlit walking along the Burren Way between Liscannor and Doolin sounds attractive and there is Black Head itself too. Inishbofin is another island that I would like to visit and then there are the smaller members of the Aran Islands. Other parts of Connemara, such as Letterfrack and Leenaun, take my fancy while a walk from Recess to Maam Cross could be another possibility. As things stand, only a start has been made in exploring Clare and Galway while Mayo and Donegal are worth doing too. There could be an Irish hill country and island wandering project yet.
Getting to know Norway: Part 2
11th August 2018 Unsettled after a political upheaval in June, I needed to head away from Britain and Ireland for a while. Given that I still had legal work in progress, I chose to ration my annual leave and only added a day to the Summer Bank Holiday weekend that offered a chance for an escape. That may have compressed my stay in Norway more than would have been ideal, but I still got an introduction that would stand me in good stead.
2016-08-26: An evening around Oslo
My arrival in Oslo was accompanied by grey skies, so there was no rush in leaving my hotel to go for a stroll around the city. In any case, there were Irish emails that needed answering while cloud cover steadily broke to reveal blue skies. That and the need to find a branch of Tanum where I could add to my map collection was enough to get me exploring again.
My quest took me past St. Olav's Cathedral to Karl Johans gate, where my shopping needs were fulfilled. Then, I headed for nearby Slottsparken, where I pottered about the royal palace in the evening sunshine. On the way back towards the city's main train station, I was to pass some university and parliament buildings, as well as the National Theatre. It all provided architectural eye candy, and I eventually sought the shore around the Opera House, though ongoing building work added too many cranes to the skyline for my liking. Nevertheless, I made the best of what lay about me and set off in the direction of Akershus without ever reaching it. That was to await another visit when I got to understand the city's geography more keenly. There was another way to the shore that would have worked better for my needs, but June 2017 was when I was to learn about that.
2016-08-27: A rail journey to Bergen
One idea that popped into my head was making a morning time photo of the royal palace, but there was not enough time for that before I needed to catch my train to Bergen. The railway line was world-famous, so I fancied travelling along it and seeing what was there. Handily, I would pass through many other places while learning the lie of the land in a country that was new to me.
Though diverted by railway engineering works and subsequently detailed by the need to await rail replacement coaches, the first part of the journey was blessed by sunshine. As we continued west, that was to change markedly, with greying skies and damp weather reducing the allure of the surrounding countryside at where it should have been the most dramatic whenever snow traps allowed us to glimpse it.
What I relished was a chance for quiet appreciation of what lay outside the train window, but others were not so interested. An Italian family had a child watching a film on a tablet computer without earphones. That was not to pervade all the journey, but it did for long enough to send me to the buffet car for sustenance and a bit of peace. There was little point in ruining anyone's holiday (mine also) by suggesting the need for headphones, and the passage of time has dimmed whatever irritation I might have felt at the time.
Eventually, we left rain after us for a while and some fjords were there to see under grey skies, ensuring only week sunshine if that at all. The train was running well late at this point after a momentary problem with the locomotive. That was not a big deal for me, but it had been different for anyone changing onto the Flåm railway. Hopefully, it did not mess up their day too much.
Bergen's train station was undergoing renovations while I was in the area, so we all passed under scaffolding with heavy rain pounding the roof. After a wait, I took my chance to make for my hotel, but a misunderstanding of the city layout had me heading on a more roundabout route in air that was not fully dry.
After booking into my accommodation and settling into my room, it was time to wander around Bergen. Sunshine eventually broke through to brighten up the evening, but not before I visited the tourism information centre and got something to eat. After that, I tried out the Fløybanen, and it gained me alluring views over Bergen's harbour and nearby islands. Not finding my wallet where I expected it caused me to wonder if I had left it on the funicular train that I had used, but I located it and any sense of panic passed.
In fading evening light, I went down again and pottered about the city a bit more and got more of a grip on its layout. It also showed me where I had taken a wrong turn earlier in the day. With light lost for the day, it was time to return to my hotel for the night and rest before the following day.
2016-08-28: A saunter around some of Bergen's hills
The trouble with exploring is that it sometimes gets in the way of planning activities. For my Sunday in Bergen, there were choices to be made, and the shortness of my stay had me torn between the options that came to mind. The lure of a boat and rail tour was a strong one, but I also had hiking gear, so I also fancied a walk. The decision was made for me by my oversleeping. This was to be a day spent wandering around Bergen's nearby hills, and any regret about missing out on that wider tour was set aside and left for a possible return sometime.
Satisfyingly, cloud cover was broken, and I had a sunny morning in a part of Norway with a similar weather reputation to Scotland's Fort William or Ireland's Dingle. This is a place where rain abounds, and I was to have some rain every day of my stay in Norway's second city and one-time capital. Another stroll around the city was to see if a better photo could be made of Lille Lungegårdsvannet. It surprises me now to think of how long I lingered around the man-made lake, but I was rewarded for my patience.
Then, it was time to return to Vågen, from where my hike would commence in earnest. It was by now near the middle of the day as I passed the Bergenias, a royal fort that is open to the public. A visit there would need to wait until the next morning, since I was decided on an outdoors outing. In fact, I was so dressed and equipped that I heard an American lady comment on the fact to her companion, perhaps unaware that I too was a native English speaker that could overhear and understand what they were saying.
Coastal road walking with only occasional views of the coast were my lot as I continued past Sandviken. Eventually, the main thoroughfare that I had been shadowing was left for some narrower and quieter lanes. Plying these allowed me to get to Munkesbotvatnet are some steep strolling with some switchback bends to ease the effect of the gradient. As I did so, the earlier sunshine was fading as clouds encroached to bring me a dull afternoon that limited any photographic action. Eventually, these were set to bring rain, but my hike was done before that happened.
The tarmac ended at Munkesbotvatnet, and a wide gravel track was its replacement for the journey to Storvatnet. This was lake to lake walking on a popular trail with so many coming against that I was left in wonderment. Eventually, though, the need for more personal space led me away from the track to follow a muddy trail that reminded me of Scottish stravaiging with its undeveloped feel.
Fewer people were going this way, which achieved what I needed as I navigated around more lakes on a course that took me both uphill and downhill. There were good views to be enjoyed, even if more sunshine would have made the sights even more special. Eventually, I was lured onto moderate summits around Rundemanen before I reached another gravel track that would carry me past Lille Tindevatnet Store and Blåmanen, a lake followed by a hill, on my way down to Fløyen where I caught the Fløybanen down to Bergen. Were it not for a need to attend to other needs, I might have been tempted to walk all the way down, and I had decided to limit aspirations that would have led me around by Svartediket and Ulriken. It is never good to rush a first encounter, and the decision possibly saved me a wetting too.
2016-08-29: A last saunter around Bergen
Though there was a direct flight from Bergen to Manchester on Monday, it did not leave until the evening time and staying until then did not appeal to me since I needed to check out of my hotel around noon. Bergen's train station was being refurbished, so I did not see any luggage lockers there. If such a facility were available, then there might have been some time for a short fjord cruise if one was available.
Instead, I pottered about Bergen in the morning between any rain showers and explored the Bergenhus, as well as revisiting other spots that I had savoured on previous days. Then, I headed for the local airport for a flight to Oslo, from where I flew to Manchester. Those flights took me over mountain scenery, so I peered out at what lay below as much as I could. Then, I could not have known that another Norway visit would come to pass less than twelve months later.
Travel Arrangements
Train between Macclesfield and Manchester Airport. Outbound flight from Manchester to Oslo, followed by a train journey from Oslo to Bergen. Return flights from Bergen to Manchester via Oslo.
