Traveling to Flo
I took a train to Lillehammer and then a bus to Andalsnes. Another bus took me from Andalsnes to Alesund. Snowy mountains, raging rivers, and glassy fjords slid past. The sky was overcast and and rain fell through cold air. My concern that I brought too much warm clothing was alleviated.
The next step of my journey was the ferry from Skateflukaia. I had no idea where that was and the bus driver wouldn't drop me off there, though I had been led to believe he would. I asked at the central bus station, which was a Kwik-E-Mart next to a bus stop shelter, and the Indian behind the counter told me it was a block and a half away. Walking a block and a half with all of my kayaking gear was hard. I arrived at Skateflukaia, the ferry port, to see the diesel powered catamaran depart.
While I waited two hours for the next ferry, I admired the tall jagged islands towering over the fjord. I put on my fleece and my sweater. The man who sold me the charts and wished me luck on my trip told me that everyone in Norway is still waiting for summer. Some years it doesn't really come.
The ferry took me to Harried with a stop at another island on the way. Lidun, the English Professor and kayaker extraordinaire, met me at the ferry. She lent me a boat, told me where to expect tidal races, and which islands had the best campsites.
The boat she had for me, a plastic valley aquanaut, was not one I would have chosen for myself, but the price was right and the notes on nearby paddling were priceless.
I made camp in an RV campground next to her house. If the sun set, it didn't set for long and it certainly never got dark. Grey light shone through the night, thoroughly illuminating the .tall green mountains and endless seascape that awaited me.
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