A Very WET Senja Island. 19th July.

The night was windy, very windy, some tents were misshapen by this morning. Having wrestled the tent into it’s bag and not lost anything to the wind, it was an early start to get to the ferry at Andenes. The first down pour arrived as I left the campsite. Delaying my departure kept me dry. The second deluge occurred after I had arrived at the terminal. Unbelievably there was no shelter, this resulted in four foot passenger and two cyclists sheltering under the eaves of the public convenience, very inconvenient. It wasn’t one of these impressively designed loos either, just a bog standard one.

The anticipated rough crossing to Gryllefjord didn’t happen. There were about ten cyclists, the two Norwegian brothers, another Norwegian about to move to Manchester, a Dutchman and others. Now sometime we can’t choose who we cycle with and on this occasion I was decidedly concerned.

This beautiful creature lives at The Senja Troll attraction

Here are some more photos of her remarkable home. Do visit if you are in the area.

These are the largest trolls in the world and their children :-

These two lads even dressed for their visit, or they were the son’s of the creator. Thanks for allowing me to take your photo.

We all headed off north through the new tunnel south of Ballesvika on the 86 and onto the 862 just before Haverjorda. Here an 8% climb started and continued until it entered another tunnel.

The northern coastline of Senja can be likened to a hand, four fingers with two thumbs.

On the north side overlooking the village of Bergsbotn is a 44m long platform of sculptured beauty. I was able to see this minutes before the heavens opened on a fast descent that turned each droplet of water into a skin penetrating needle.

The rain returned with a musical accompaniment of thunder and an occasional flash of lightening. It was particularly heavy and loud on the second particularly long and steep hill. Would The ‘old git’ be found by the roadside with scorched tyres and curly hair.

The rain did have a break, enough to trick me onto delaying and allowing me a dry look at the Tungeneset rest area. A walkway made of Siberian latch permits uninterrupted viewing of the razor edged Okshornan peaks.

Totally wet through. I surrendered to a second consecutive official camp site near Lusenes, were a hot shower was very much appreciated. The area had also been home to this massive elk, before a macho game hunter decided to shoot it.

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