It is quite obvious the Norwegians were not thinking of motor travel when they decided to build their fishing villages on the bumpy, vertical side of the Scandinavian peninsula. If there isn’t a big rock in your way then it’s a river, fjord or bay. The Norwegians don’t take a drive in the mountains. They take a drive THROUGH them..

I’ve lost track of the number of bridges, ferries and tunnels I used to travel the few degrees of latitude south I covered to get from Alta to my next stop, Tromso. Now there are long tunnels in other places, even though 5-6 km is not unusual in Norway, but I went through one tunnel that had two roundabouts inside of it.  I went through tunnels that had two-way traffic but were only one “truck-width” wide. I went through tunnels that had rest stops inside of them and little cut-outs where one vehicle could pull in so the approaching vehicle could pass through. This country makes a model railroad set look like…well, a toy.

Although I did not leave with much of a travel plan, I did get some help from a Norwegian guy I connected with over the Adventure Rider forum. Despite being in the middle of a round-the-world motorcycle journey, he emailed me a rough itinerary from Brazil where he said he was taking “a day off.” He helped me piece together smaller roads and ferries that had me hop from island to island back down to the neighborhood of the Arctic Circle where I could ferry to the mainland and keep heading south.

My visit to Tromso was notable for the campground kitchen, immaculate private showers each in a little tiled room equipped with a sink and a toilet, and the camp laundry where I was able to hand wash my one change of clothes and use the dryer for free. Well, not exactly “free.” I did pay about $27 per night to pitch my tent in a soggy wooded area several hundred yards from the previously described pristine plumbing facilities. I might also mention Tromso  is home to the Mack Brewery, a microbrewery that has been “micro” since 1874. I was able to use “getting in out of the rain” as a rationale for visiting their pub and sampling a flight of their creations.  

To get to Tromso, I had no choice but to take the E-6 but the dearth of population meant there were few heavy vehicles unable to keep up the 90 kph speed limit. The highway itself squeezes into a small piece of real estate between the snow-capped mountains and the sea. In places, it’s cut right into the rock face that falls into the Atlantic, twisting like a serpent as it carves around fjords or launches you into the air on one of Norways many long arching bridges.

The last thing I want to tell you about this part of the ride occurred at a gas station where I stopped because of a construction back-up. Thought I’d wait it out with a cup of coffee.  Six or seven heavy motorcycles pulled in with Italian EU registration plates. One of the riders pulled off his helmet and yelled my name! Incredibly, two of the group were Italians I had met in Cairo in 2015 during the Cross Egypt Challenge motor scooter tour. They pulled a thermos of espresso out of a tail box and some carved Nordic cups. They had been to Nordkap the same day I had. Their trip would end in a couple of days and they arranged to have their bikes shipped by truck back to Italy while they flew home. They extended an invitation for me to come to Italy and ride the Alps. Thank you Gaucho and Ottavio. Sounds like next summer’s divertimento!