Safe Return Doubtful

In the winter of 1942-3 the Germans started building a road from Ervik to the tip of the Hovden peninsula. From here they could protect their own ships and convoys against allied aircraft attacks by placing their an anti-aircraft battery. Others are dotted around the cliffs. The road was not completed until 1944 though, as it needed a hundred metre tunnel through the mountain, then a basic cable car down the cliff below. The tunnel is still open today, and this morning Roja and I explored the area and delved into its history.

On the way up to Hovden, a small camp with Russian prisoners of war, about a hundred, was set up by the Germans. These prisoners worked on the road and tunnel. Between 20 and 30 Russians were killed in the building process, and they were initially buried near the camp, and moved to the graveyard at the Ervik chapel after the war.

These days Ervik is one of the most popular surf beaches in Norway. Because of the visitors it gets in the summer, overnighting in a vehicle or tent, unless on the campsite, is forbidden. Vans block access to the church for locals, even during the day, so the relationship with the community can be delicate.

At the parking by the church I met Kjartan and his Alaskan Husky. In his mid-30s he has converted a Peugeot van that he discovered for sale, 16 years old, with only 18,000 kilometres. He is part way through the conversion only, and this was the first trip away in it. He is a surfer and a mountain biker; we spoke for a while. He recommended the hike to the old War tunnel, and was keen to look at my van for ideas for his own.

Ervik is just over the mountain from Honningsvåg. My initial plan had been to walk to the headland at Honningsvåg, but that was postponed in favour of a beach wander.

I was much longer than I had planned, with the hike being a couple of hours, and an hour or so chatting with Kjartan. I also had the sort of occasional chores to do that crop up every few days; filling up with water at the facility in Leikanger, groceries in Fiskå, before settling in for the afternoon’s rugby at a hiking car park above the ferry port of Larsnes on the island of Gurskøya.

I managed to get a few kilometres in between the two games, just 45 minutes out, and up to the peak at Storehornet at 291 metres, only 150 metres of climbing though, but it does show how well the new hip has settled in; it’s either walking fast, or running slow, but good either way. And besides which, high cloud, sunny intervals, late teens centigrade, and tremendous views.