Travels around the Arctic Circle (Scandinavia 2022, 10.000 km)

I woke up quite late today. Yes, I was planning to do a trip of 10.000 km but I definitely wasn't in a hurry. Usually I just kind of slip away in the early hours of the morning, keen to get as many miles as possible between me and those neighbours I've so rudely awakened. But setting off for such a long haul this morning, I actually chose to leave at 11.00 am, which gave me ample time to give little Ava all the hugs she deserved and have a decent farewell coffee with Monica - well, it felt that way but we actually will be meeting up in Stockholm next week, we're sentimental that way.

When I saddled up this morning, there was hardly a soul awake around me. Which afforded me some uninterrupted views of the dawn lake, as the sun rose over it. Nice way to have a breakfast. As I'd like to call my somewhat questionable imitation of a cup of coffee.

What a relief it was to finally enter Sweden. Not that Denmark was unpleasant, or that I had a bad ride. The opposite was true, in fact: I gave myself an easy day with a mere 200 km. And it was a joy to drive over the bridges that cross the seastraits of the Ostsee. Though it was a bit windy: take a look at my action movie, https://youtu.be/HTvqPYllrdI 

No, to reach the Swedish mainland proved to be a relief because I immediately got to visit two of the highlights up till now:

Today was a tough day. It turned a lot colder and it started to rain, which usually doesn't bother me much, but my old worn-out lungs didn't agree, so I spend my 300+ km to Kalmar huffing and puffing. Finally got things under control with a hot cup of coffee and my usual medicines. But this was a situation which I had hoped to avoid. Luckily, I've ended up in a very healthy place and I'm feeling much better. More about that place later.

A good nights sleep does wonders and I felt a lot better this morning. While the botanists were busy tending their secret gardens, I saddled up the bike and left Station Linnee with a song and a whistle. The sun was shining and I made my way north, in the general direction of Stockholm.

Feeling lucky, I stopped over at a town called Oskarshamn for a coffee. And a cinnamon bun. Let me take a moment to wax lyrical about the Swedish cinnamon bun. Man, are they yummy. A perfect breakfast. Doctors should be giving them out as medicine.

After a few good cups of coffee, I went on my way early to meet up with my wife Monica and my youngest daughter Ava. We had arranged to find each other at Arlanda airport, where I would also park my motorcycle for a few days.

Today I made the decision to go a little out of the way and visit an area that was not necessarily on my route, but interesting enough to justify a detour.

I left the farm at Soderhamn (really very nice, but those damn mosquitos kept me awake at night) early, waving to all the foster care children that the farmers family are taking care of. They were all very well-behaved and spoke english perfectly. It almost felt like one of those washing detergent commercials from the 80s. But I've got to say, respect to the parents for keeping such a great household.

There was no getting around it: I had to make a lot of miles (or kilometers) today. The Hoga Kusten is such a beautiful place to leave behind, but there was still a lot of space between me and the true North. So I headed back out on the E4 and off to Umea and Pitea.

I woke up at 5.30 because something was biting my heel. Yes, biting my heel. To cut a long story short, motel Big Bug got to me. Don't know what kind of bug it was. But I did understand its message: get the hell out of Dodge. Which I did, with due haste and motivation.

I took off somewhat later today. The hotel in Jokkmokk was nice and I had no reason to hurry. It was mostly wilderness ahead, 200 km of it on the Inlandsvagen. Or so I thought.

After a very comfortable night in my very comfortable Sami-style hut, I loaded up the bike to make my way to Kiruna and the Scandic Mountains. The weather was a bit rough and the temperature down to a measly 4C, but the forecast promised better times up the road.

When I took off from my mountain hostel, I was instantly treated to a fabulous view over the Narvik Fjord, a stunning valley where the Scandic mountains meet the Atlantic Ocean. Once down to sealevel, I started to follow the E6 road northwards and the magnificent views just kept coming. The E6, which leads all the way to Kirkenes and the Russian border, is famed for its beautiful surroundings and rightly so. For a biker, it's heaven.

When I looked out of my window this morning, it was raining. Heavily. Not great news, because I had a long day's ride ahead. 420 km to Alta, which would provide a springboard for a jump to Nordkapp on wednesday.

The forecast was bad, so I put on every single shirt, jumper and piece of rain gear I had with me. I was going to do this. Surely I had fully prepared.

I was up early today. Not only because I had a long ride to the North Cape (Nordkapp), but also because I wanted to make a special visit before I left Alta. Among historians and archaeologists, Alta is well known for its prehistoric sites.

After my little stunt at the monument (read yesterday's report), I drank my victory coffee, had my victory breadrolls and rode off on my victory bike. Within a few hundred meters though, I was brought back with my feet firmly upon this earth. The entire Nordkapp was shrouded in mist. Moreover, the high road was wet as a whistle and extremely slippery. The back wheel of the bike started started sliding left and right, as I tried to make my way down. At one point, on a steep descent, the bike nearly fell over. Thank God the traction control self-corrected.

In 320 BC Pythias the Elder, Greek geographer and historian, wrote about a land in the far north, beyond the reaches of civilization. He had heard from travellers that the people there were fishermen and hunters of deer, and that they were capable of withstanding extreme cold and darkness, as the sun did not shine there for 6 months in each year. He was not sure what it was called but named it the furthest away land in the sea. Or as the Romans would translate it, Ultima Thule.

A rainy morning again, and it suited my wake-up mood, as I had to leave Varanger to head down south. Varanger definitely made an impression on me. I wasn't in a hurry to leave. Maybe it was the peace and quiet, maybe it was the constantly shifting sights, sounds and colours of the bay. Maybe it was just me wanting to relax. In any case, I gathered my belongings, packed the bike and rode off, reluctantly.

There was no way around it, I had to ride a fair distance today to get down south, were I to make it to the Helsinki ferry on Friday. So I got up early, had a quick breakfast (powder coffee) and rode off. Four hundred fifty kilometers to go to Kemi, on the Gulf of Bothnia.

The last few days I've made a lot of kilometers. I've been steadily riding down the coast of Finland, getting closer to Helsinki. I've passed the 7000 km mark now.

And I'm still loving it. There has not been one day that I didn't want to get on that motorcycle and ride around. I must confess I didn't expect that. There would surely come a point where I would tire of it, right? Wrong. Which will be giving me something to ponder about in the coming weeks and months.

As per usual I got up this morning and went looking for some black coffee. The good ship Finnstar, which takes me from Helsinki to Germany, doesn't do breakfast, they serve you a 'brunch' at 1 pm. Luckily the bar is open most of the day (good to see they've gotten their priorities straight), so I got my coffee. And a cinnamon roll as well. And a nice view over the Baltic Sea.