"Though a lot can still happen in three days." That's how I ended the last newsletter. And really, I should never end a newsletter like that again, because unfortunately, nothing happened. Well…
At first our plan went exactly as intended: staying with Joar and Magni, walking a stretch of the Gudbrandsdalsleden, and then hitting the road in a car full of good cheer, off towards new adventures. And then Remy fell ill...
We had a lovely time with Joar and Magni at Nørgar Voll, the pilgrim accommodation I visit at least once a year and where I've practically become part of the family by now. We stayed two nights, and on the day after we arrived, during the only dry hours, with the sun even peeking through, we walked a section of the Gudbrandsdalsleden. You really can't cycle it, which is exactly why I'd been wanting to walk it for once. It's a genuinely beautiful stretch! While the cyclists follow the valley along the provincial road, hikers head up into the mountains and look down over the valley from above. Joar drove us to the starting point, and from there we walked the mountain path back to Nørgar Voll.
On Monday morning we said our goodbyes to drive to the Swedish east coast over two days. For those who know the area: we went via Berkåk, Røros, the Norwegian-Swedish border, and Funäsdalen towards Sveg. That was a bit of a detour, but I wanted to show Remy Røros (a UNESCO World Heritage Site), and we'd also arranged to meet up with Kristina. She's lived in Funäsdalen for the past year, but was staying further along in Hedeviken, right on our route south-east. The sun broke through cautiously in Røros, and once we crossed the border the weather turned glorious. The drive was stunning, and to our great surprise we spotted a reindeer not once but twice. They're domesticated animals*, mind you, but still...
Kristina pointed us towards the campsite in Hedeviken, so off we went. From Røros onwards, Remy hadn't been feeling quite right. "I can feel a cold coming on." Once at the campsite, we booked a cabin as a precaution instead of pitching the tent. Good thing too ,because that evening Remy had a fever.
A few days have passed since then. The next day I had a fika (coffee with a waffle) with Kristina and Mats at the cosy café in the village. They were just passing through, but we were so glad we managed to see each other and catch up. As for the rest of the week, I was... well, just working, really. The weather was gorgeous, so I sat with my laptop on the veranda of our cabin. At one point I got a message from the contractor: "When are you back from holiday?"
"Shall we head home, Remy?" I had no idea why the contractor wanted to know, but 'home' suddenly seemed remarkably appealing. "We could get on with the renovations! And if we leave now, we'll have had a pretty good holiday anyway, especially the days with Lars and with Joar and Magni."
I don't know whether that question played any part in Remy's recovery, but Remy could see a cycling holiday slipping away before his eyes. "No, we're carrying on on Friday, exactly as planned. And after the Åland Islands we're going to Stockholm!" "Fine," I said meekly. It's my turn to be the meek one, after all.
I wonder how long that'll last...
*Contrary to popular belief, almost all reindeer in Sweden and Norway are domesticated, apart from a single herd. That one lives on the Dovrefjell plateau, and I once spotted it through binoculars from the Snøhetta viewpoint.
Photo's of our hike along a part of the Gudbrandsdalsleden:
Nørgar Voll:
Røros:
On the road in Sweden:
The campsite in Hedevika:
