Crossing the line, climbing hills and gazing at glaciers

The Arctic Circle marker

We are now inside the Arctic Circle, although, if you looked at us sitting in shorts having a barbecue in the evening sun, you would only guess that if you squinted behind us to see the ice-blue gleam of the Svartisen glacier. Florence has seldom had a better view for the night. 

We crossed the 66° 33’ line just after one o’clock this afternoon while on the ferry from Kilboghamn to Jektvik. A recorded announcement told us when we had reached the Arctic Circle, gave us some facts and figures, and drew our attention to a hollow globe standing on a promontory to mark the southernmost extent of the midnight sun. 

We were irrationally excited by the moment, which harked backed to tales of “Crossing the Line”, the ceremony held on ships crossing the equator when first-timers were covered in foam and “shaved” by Neptune. No sea-gods appeared, but lots of people discovered how hard it is to take a selfie on a moving boat which captures a very small object in the background.

Yesterday we parted company, for now, with the E6, the road which takes you from the south to the far north of Norway. Instead we are winding our way up the coast on the FV17, otherwise known as Kystriksveien, or the Coast Road. It’s one of Norway’s official scenic routes, and the brochure claims it’s the world’s most beautiful journey. No arguments so far.  As well as spectacular views, the road has regular picnic spots and lookouts, including the one we are in now, and another beautifully manicured area where we spent last night. 

Views from Kystriksveien

Last night’s spot also offered a spectacular walk up the rocky ridge behind us to what we would call a bothy. The trail was well marked - just as well as most of it was across bare rock - and offered plenty of clear, cool rock pools where spaniels could drink and bathe. The rock itself was almost sticky to walk on and free of scree, so there was no fear of slipping and it was an enjoyable experience all ‘round. 

A Norwegian bothy

Wainwright, eat your heart out!

 After our walk we drove on towards Kilboghamn, stopping to admire the view of some of the 40,000 islands and skerries off this coast, and wondering how a Norwegian village came by such an Irish name. We decided against the £12.50 burgers from the shack serving the ferry queue, and managed to convinced the earnest young man taking money that Nick was entitled to a passenger discount as I was actually driving the vehicle - from the right hand side. We have met a couple of earnest young men here, and are still trying to work out how they transform into the relaxed, jovial chaps that seem to predominate among the over fifties.  

Florence doesn't get better views than this

This afternoon another short ferry trip and a few more miles along quiet, but rather narrow roads led us to the Svartisen glacier. It is the second largest in Norway, after Jostedalsbreen, where we were only last week. The finger we can see is  the closest to sea level, and we have spent the evening gazing at it across the fjord, admiring the blues in the ice, and the smooth white of the snow on the ice field above. Norway does have very pretty glaciers.