View looking back over the town of Kirkefjord and the winding Reinefjord
As the ferry pitched over each wave, the ominous peaks of the Lofoten Islands loomed closer. Once again, I hadn't expected there to be snow: "They're islands! Being close to the water means we'll be warmer!" Wrong. The mountaintops were enshrouded in thick dark clouds. We had both snoozed through the nauseating 4 hour ride from Bodo. While we'd originally intended to stealth camp, we bee lined for the campsite next to the Moskenes ferry terminal. The price was right (160 NOK, ~$20), and the first of many squalls (super high winds and heavy rain for 10 minutes) was blowing outside reception. We'll take it! WiFi and a warm kitchen common space awaited us.
Bailey cooked up some carrot sweet potato soup in an attempt to use up the heaviest vegetables. I attempted to set up the tent in the gusty wind, which went fine until I was cinching down the last strap - SNAP! And the tent went limp. Visions of splintered poles and drenched sleeping bags flashed before my eyes as I frantically removed the fly to inspect the damage. One of the poles was no longer connected to a connector piece. At first glance I thought it was all over, but then realized there were threads. I tried to screw the pole back into the connector piece, but the threads were worn, and the rest of the tent was dancing violently under my weight in the wind. A few minutes later I succeeded in having the tent set up and weighted down with 6 massive rocks, one on each deeply sunk stake.
In the afternoon, we walked 5 km to Å (pronounced "oh"), an ancient fishing town at the end of the island's main road. We visited the fish museum where the owner informed us it was closed and invited us in to watch a short documentary and drink free coffee and tea. Apparently the cod that are caught here are hung to dry for 3 months (no surprise since it's been raining non stop), after which they are pressed into blocks and shipped to Nigeria (the heads) and Italy, where they are rehydrated and treated like a delicacy. He was a chatty character with lots of interesting stories about growing up in the islands.
That night we noticed a 4 inch tear in the roof of the tent. It was going to be a long night. When I say "night" you should not imagine dark because the sun never sets this time of year. A search for "sunset time Moskenes" on google returns 12:44am on July 18th - a month from now. During the night the tent did yoga in the wind while we held our breath and hardly slept a wink.
The next day we caught the only bus into Reine, a neighboring town, and supposedly the most beautiful place on earth. From Reine, we caught the only ferry of the day to the end of Reinefjord to the empty town of Kirkefjord. It was still raining, and we and a couple from Quebec City huddled in a small shelter on the dock. Bailey and I decided to call this our home for the night - the next ferry was at 7 the next morning. We left our bags before beginning the 2-hour hike to Horseid Beach. The trail begins with a steep ascent along a creek before reaching the top of a saddle between two dramatic rock peaks. At the top we were greeted with a stunning view of the beach, which lies beyond a brilliant green meadow. The hike through the meadow left our boots sopping wet, but we walked fast and stayed warm. A creek drains through the beach, so I took off my boots to cross to the wide beach on the other side. But Bailey didn't follow. My toes quickly numbed in the icey water, and I soon found myself back on the same side. We ate a speedy lunch of potato tortillas, fish, cashews, and apple before starting the return hike. We had a few fleeting moment of blue sky peaking through the clouds, during which we frolicked in the meadow.
We spent the night in the hut, shared with the Canadian couple who also found themselves damp and cold. The rain pattered on the metal roof all night, but we stayed dry and happy until our return on the ferry in the morning.
In the afternoon, we walked 5 km to Å (pronounced "oh"), an ancient fishing town at the end of the island's main road. We visited the fish museum where the owner informed us it was closed and invited us in to watch a short documentary and drink free coffee and tea. Apparently the cod that are caught here are hung to dry for 3 months (no surprise since it's been raining non stop), after which they are pressed into blocks and shipped to Nigeria (the heads) and Italy, where they are rehydrated and treated like a delicacy. He was a chatty character with lots of interesting stories about growing up in the islands.
That night we noticed a 4 inch tear in the roof of the tent. It was going to be a long night. When I say "night" you should not imagine dark because the sun never sets this time of year. A search for "sunset time Moskenes" on google returns 12:44am on July 18th - a month from now. During the night the tent did yoga in the wind while we held our breath and hardly slept a wink.
The next day we caught the only bus into Reine, a neighboring town, and supposedly the most beautiful place on earth. From Reine, we caught the only ferry of the day to the end of Reinefjord to the empty town of Kirkefjord. It was still raining, and we and a couple from Quebec City huddled in a small shelter on the dock. Bailey and I decided to call this our home for the night - the next ferry was at 7 the next morning. We left our bags before beginning the 2-hour hike to Horseid Beach. The trail begins with a steep ascent along a creek before reaching the top of a saddle between two dramatic rock peaks. At the top we were greeted with a stunning view of the beach, which lies beyond a brilliant green meadow. The hike through the meadow left our boots sopping wet, but we walked fast and stayed warm. A creek drains through the beach, so I took off my boots to cross to the wide beach on the other side. But Bailey didn't follow. My toes quickly numbed in the icey water, and I soon found myself back on the same side. We ate a speedy lunch of potato tortillas, fish, cashews, and apple before starting the return hike. We had a few fleeting moment of blue sky peaking through the clouds, during which we frolicked in the meadow.
We spent the night in the hut, shared with the Canadian couple who also found themselves damp and cold. The rain pattered on the metal roof all night, but we stayed dry and happy until our return on the ferry in the morning.
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