False wake-up alarm at five. Krõõp has't turned her watch to Norwegian time.
We
manage to get a meager breakfast and some poor coffee downstairs.
No-one to be seen. I'm looking for a place where to put the money when a
man appears who is willing to collect it.
To the harbor, but there goes nothing to Lysnes on Tuesday 7:10 AM as it was written in the internet. It goes on Monday, Wednesday and Friday, but not on Tuesday. On the next quay is a ferry going to Finnsness which is a city connected to Senja island with a bridge but where we have not planned of going. The ferry timetable shows another ride on 16:00.
We take our bags back to the hotel and get a generous offer of free coffee and internet. We thank politely and head towards a mountain visible on the other side of the bay. Lauri has been there some time ago and from up there it's a great view as is customary to mountaintops. Crossing over the bridge, we ask for directions and get these in detail from a woman who speaks perfect English. Otherwise the city is still relatively quiet.
The houses end and forest begins, pierced with snow-melt-streams. The water tastes like snow. All the place is full of fern and flowers: globe flower, water avens, crane's-bill and some white flower with black core. The last one is probably thought out by Norwegians themselves because in my flower-memory there's nothing like that. Further up there's some snow. Second spring.
Path winds up, trees are lower and then disappear altogether. Flies appear. It's hot. Picnic on a stone with a view over Tromsø. The clock allows us another half an hour and so we continue towards the top. The top moves further away every now and then. What seems to be the top from where you stand is not the top anymore once you get there. The flies are gone, now we are like flies climbing on the steep wall. The higher we go, the more mountains and fjords are visible. At noon the sign for going back down is given. We meet people who woke up later, all locals. Two guys leave us a portion of their fly-swarm. A bit of mist comes from somewhere. According to Lauri's estimate we have walked 15 km, +/- 8 km.
Apple-eating on shop steps and half an hour hanging around in the hotel. Then back to the harbor. The four o'clock ferry doesn't go to Lysnes however but to somewhere else. We don't want to go somewhere else. On the next quay the ferry to Finnsnes goes again. This time we take it. At the door everyone has to say his/her name, year of birth and destination into a voice recorder. What's the purpose of gathering this information remains unclear. It starts to rain.
In Finnsnes there's no bus to the island. The bridge is visible, though. We trudge through the rain. In bus stops there are no timetables or other signs. In the first bus stop on the island we eat a bagful of dried apricots. No bus in sight. From a bar close by we get a map of the surroundings, some tea and the information that the bus to Gryllefjord goes at 5:30 in the morning. We make a new plan on the bar counter and after filling our water bottles in the toilet, go and pinch our tent below the bridge. In the thicket there's a picnic cabin with moss-covered roof and a table about to collapse. We boil water for food and tea. The bench has some difficulties standing strait and the area is inhabited by mosquitoes. This restaurant will be called 'Unfulfilled Promises'.
To the harbor, but there goes nothing to Lysnes on Tuesday 7:10 AM as it was written in the internet. It goes on Monday, Wednesday and Friday, but not on Tuesday. On the next quay is a ferry going to Finnsness which is a city connected to Senja island with a bridge but where we have not planned of going. The ferry timetable shows another ride on 16:00.
We take our bags back to the hotel and get a generous offer of free coffee and internet. We thank politely and head towards a mountain visible on the other side of the bay. Lauri has been there some time ago and from up there it's a great view as is customary to mountaintops. Crossing over the bridge, we ask for directions and get these in detail from a woman who speaks perfect English. Otherwise the city is still relatively quiet.
The houses end and forest begins, pierced with snow-melt-streams. The water tastes like snow. All the place is full of fern and flowers: globe flower, water avens, crane's-bill and some white flower with black core. The last one is probably thought out by Norwegians themselves because in my flower-memory there's nothing like that. Further up there's some snow. Second spring.
Path winds up, trees are lower and then disappear altogether. Flies appear. It's hot. Picnic on a stone with a view over Tromsø. The clock allows us another half an hour and so we continue towards the top. The top moves further away every now and then. What seems to be the top from where you stand is not the top anymore once you get there. The flies are gone, now we are like flies climbing on the steep wall. The higher we go, the more mountains and fjords are visible. At noon the sign for going back down is given. We meet people who woke up later, all locals. Two guys leave us a portion of their fly-swarm. A bit of mist comes from somewhere. According to Lauri's estimate we have walked 15 km, +/- 8 km.
Apple-eating on shop steps and half an hour hanging around in the hotel. Then back to the harbor. The four o'clock ferry doesn't go to Lysnes however but to somewhere else. We don't want to go somewhere else. On the next quay the ferry to Finnsnes goes again. This time we take it. At the door everyone has to say his/her name, year of birth and destination into a voice recorder. What's the purpose of gathering this information remains unclear. It starts to rain.
In Finnsnes there's no bus to the island. The bridge is visible, though. We trudge through the rain. In bus stops there are no timetables or other signs. In the first bus stop on the island we eat a bagful of dried apricots. No bus in sight. From a bar close by we get a map of the surroundings, some tea and the information that the bus to Gryllefjord goes at 5:30 in the morning. We make a new plan on the bar counter and after filling our water bottles in the toilet, go and pinch our tent below the bridge. In the thicket there's a picnic cabin with moss-covered roof and a table about to collapse. We boil water for food and tea. The bench has some difficulties standing strait and the area is inhabited by mosquitoes. This restaurant will be called 'Unfulfilled Promises'.
Add a comment