After our not so restful rest day we rebuilt our bikes and luckily all seemed fine. Steve scooted off to handthe car back to the depot at the airport half a mile away. After hunting around the only person he could findwas a security guard who promised to pass the keys on. Either this was standard practise or we had just supplied the local joy rider with his latest toy.A short trip to town followed where we confirmed that there is little more open on a Sunday than on the Saturday night but we took advantage of thenotable exceptions: a cafe and the tourist information with free internet. While in the tourist information we found a postcard which settled the mornings debate.Next to the campsite was a patch of very boggy ground which seemed to have been marked out in some sort of sporting area. The goals at either end did little to give us a hint as to what could possibly be played in such conditions. Swamp soccer it turns out. As a quick google for images confirms this really is as bad as it sounds.
With faffing out the way we started on the first of three climbs for the day. The first taking us out of town and to the mouth of a 6km long tunnel. Between us we only had a few lights and there was even a junction in the middle of the tunnelto keep us on our toes. Exciting stuff indeed. Coming out the tunnel we dropped and then climbed up our second climb. At the top we were treated to a fine example of an emergency shelter which was basic enough to discourage casual use but would be a life saver in grim weather. We were then treated to a lovely downhill with good tarmac and no sharp bends and we arrived at the bottom with our eyes on stalks - Hugh clocking a potentially unhealthy 70.3 km/h. At the bottom we took a break and considered the next destination only 1.5km away. We also considered thewater separating us from our goal and the 18km of road around the fjord we would have to bike to get there.
With the weather teasing us with drizzle we plodded round to find a quirky tea shop in the process of being built - the steps leading up to the door being made up of palettes.After some local interaction we determined that they only served fruit tea so we offered to buy some hot water and nipped out to dig some proper tea out the bags, much to the amusement of the locals and customers alike.With tea down the necks Duncan popped over to the garage to fill up his water bottle. Deciding that a mere tap was too easy he picked up the high pressure hose normally used to clean cars and almost soaked a passing lady with his antics.
The rest stop done we headed out for the final, biggest, climb of the day. The road soon gave way to a rough track. With many switch backs progress was slow for most of us, Hugh on the other hand seemed to take offense that the hill dare continue and tore up the slope. That said even he commented that it is always a bad sign whenyou can hear the car that passed you with ease has to change down a gear round the corner. While we were all struggling up Steve was also suffering from a stomach wondering if his throat had been cut. While we all had a break near the top Steve dropped half a go bar which seemed to have a miracle restorative effect and he was off like a shot!
The downhill was even more satisfying than those earlier in the day and we had even bigger smiles at the bottom. We trundled around the fjord for a while until we spotted a nice place to camp by the water. We weren't the first to notice the merits of this flat patch of ground and there wasa French guy already there. He seemed to have a lot of kit, even had guy ropes to keep his bike upright over-night! Over the next few days we were following a similar route and saw him often and found out that he had hand built his bike for some huge trip years ago. It seems that he used to bring his children along with himon these trips but they had got to the age where they could say no. We spent the evening watching showers rolling down the various valleys but only had to cower in our tents once. For food we had a sack of potatoes which we had forgotten that Hugh still had in his bags - we weren't meant to be biking with them but top marks for dragging them over the climbs!The only blip with our otherwise lovely campsite was that we couldn't manage to scavenge enough drift wood to build up a fire and had to settle for sleeping bags to keep warm once the sun set.