Norway

I am sad and grateful, fighting back tears through a smile. The final leg by bicycle, to Grense Jakobselv and the open Barents Sea was completed on Friday. The weather window was short but ideal. I took my usual bike and trailer rig, with a few extra celebratory supplies, and Helene provided the company and local knowledge. These are a very special last 60km: arctic vegetation struggles to hold onto 2.6 billion year old rock, half the age of the earth. At last a true sense of wilderness and silence.

Post from Kirkenes in Norway, where I arrived yesterday. One more cycle to reach the Norway-Russia border, from where I set sail from in May 2017. But the anticipated euphoria of completion has slipped away just as it was coming into reach.

Instead - since peeling away from the Baltic - my companions have been a gentle melancholy and a rising anxiety.

Last night in Norway. As this chapter closes and another begins I can't help but feel somewhat melancholic. Norway and her people have been so kind to me. I've been accepted and welcomed at all ports. Generously supported by native Norwegians and other nationalities who have made this country their home too. Material support, and also the precious gift of time. Some history explained; a collection revealed; a walk or drive shared. I owe so many thank yous.

I hope I have learned from you.

Upwind sailing these last days on open coastline without protection from swell. Yesterday I sailed a few miles with contact Alex, before leaving him with a couple of Snickers bars and wishing him good luck getting home. I probably made it to land before him. At a headland which turned out to be surf spot 'XY'. There I met off-grid campers Gerard, Anna, Bic and Sara who were kind enough to include me in their barbecue and the drinking of their not inconsiderable alcohol supply.

The Hornelen mountain sea cliff is the highest in Europe. There were moderate strength downdrafts coming down off it, but nothing compared to the previous day's battering (on approach to Grindøy). Once past the wind shadows there was some great upwind sailing going west out of Frøysøen. Despite the rain I really enjoyed the sailing. A bit of a battle. You soon get used to being what initially feels like being overpowered, and it is only really the corners that are more difficult. The final shower is just before reaching Florø.

Being 'on expedition' is a very full way of living. Every day is an unknown and unfolds in a unique way. Sometimes the day is filled with spectacular scenery, others it is shrouded behind mist or low cloud. Plans form as the breeze fills and are reshaped as it wanes. Sometimes the sailing requires full attention, other times it allows the mind to wander.

And the support! Everywhere I land, through social media, messages, from all directions, borders on overwhelming. People are good. That's a conviction I had anyway, but is only reinforced by each passing day.

Louise and Morten finally got rid of me, and out on the open sea it was rough and windy. To limit exposure I headed up channels where possible, eventually ducking under the main bridge of the Atlantic road and quitting for the day at Vevang. Seemed like I didn't get far considering the effort (!) but content enough with day: nothing broke, a few more miles to the good, met nice people wherever I landed :) and found the 'bålhuset' (community fire-place house) to rest up in.

Light winds and the sailing has been a bit of a slog these last few days. It looked like a straightforward run up Trondheimsleia - inside the islands of Hitra and Smøla - but end of day 3 and I'm still 45k short of Kristiansund. Am running low or out of key supplies - coffee, oil for cooking fish, toothpaste, anything with vitamins, midge repellent (!), beer(!) - so am determined to put in a good effort tomorrow to reach significant civilisation.

A blog entry in the style of Long Standing Ambition!

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