Safe Return Doubtful

For two days now the magnificent peaks of Senja have been under wraps, concealed by low cloud and mist. As I write the sky is clearing for a fine week. Those peaks are starting to show themselves, and as the cloud ascends and disappears the gradual reveal is special indeed.

I still did the hike I had planned from Skaland on Friday. Usually the track to Husfjellet peak at 632 metres is quite busy, but today I saw only two other hikers, a Norwegian couple descending, the guy told me all he could see at the summit was his wife.

A hike for the exercise really, as I told a couple of people at the car park who asked what conditions were like. The weather has been great so far, though this far north expectations are lessened, more than can be said for the UK, Lancashire’s cricket was totally washed out for the second day in succession.

This morning I moved over to the second finger of the five, to the village of Mefjordvær. It’s 7 kilometres off the main road across the north of the island, the 862, an incredible drive in itself. It’s a narrow road, not wide enough for a motorhome to pass without using a passing place, and has several long unlit tunnels, so progress is slow. The scenery of steep jagged peaks at around 800 metres is spectacular and another reason not to hurry. Most of the traffic is tourist traffic, though there are less motorhomes on the road than in Lofoten. There are plenty of touring cyclists, it would be an incredible ride if it wasn’t for the amount of traffic, better in the shoulder seasons I think. Turn off the main 862 and as ever, it is much less busy.

I’m at the hiking car park above the village. Looking down at Mefjordvær on the fjord motorhomes occupy every bit of space they are allowed to. A couple of kilometres up a rough track and there’s about four os us, in a large car park that used to be the sports field.

It’s a big rugby day, and we were out walking at 7:30 am this morning in the drizzle for an hour before the England All Blacks game. The game was wonderful entertainment, with England playing better than they have done for a long time.

After the game I drove the half hour to Mefjordvær and watched the Wales South Africa game, heading out to explore after lunch. Just a kilometre away is the peak of Knutten at 110 metres, that gives a good view of the fjord and amphitheatre of rock that surrounds us on three of the four sides.

We continued to two small lakes. At the first of which Roja amused a family’s four small children for ten minutes allowing them to throw sticks into the water for him to collect, until he had six in his mouth at once.

That two hour excursion fitted well into the gap between games, and we returned for Ireland South Africa. If the weather had been fine I doubt I would have stayed in to watch all the games.

It’s a fine early evening now, about 16C. Roja is sat outside watching this particular part of the world go by, with the side door open, and my homemade fly net doing an excellent job as ever. There are just a few mosquitoes around, hungry after the rain, but having heard this week that there are 17 million flies for every one person on the planet, one can’t be too careful.