Sel to halfway between Hellesylt and Oye – 185km

Lattitude: 62.08

Today had the wow-factor that makes you grateful for every twist in the plan. 

Yesterday’s rest day turned out to be a blessing in disguise. We’d been heading north, but something didn’t sit right. We’d been doing some last-minute research and realised we hadn’t been to the southern fjords. Did we want to miss them? We looked at a couple of photos and snap decision made. We changed our plans and decided to head west. We’re useless at sticking to a plan, but sometimes, that’s where the magic happens.

So today, we changed direction and drove towards the coast, and almost immediately, the landscape changed. The terrain grew more rugged, the road carving its way through a valley flanked by snow-capped mountains which were rounded on top.

But then we turned off the main road. and that’s when things got really interesting. The road narrowed to a single lane, snaking its way alongside icy lakes. The mountains had become more dramatic with their jagged peaks surrounding us.

Around every bend was another gasp-worthy view, the kind that makes you stop and take another thousand photos.

And then came the zig-zags, tight hairpin turns stacked one after another, back and forth down the mountain pass for 14 kms! Mike was in second gear as we slowly made our way down the 10% grade.

We reached a viewpoint that literally took our breath away. Below us, the Geiranger fjord stretched out, with towering cliffs that plunged straight into the dark water. It was the kind of scenery I expected from Norway.

We continued our zig-zag down the mountain and reached the town of Geiranger just in time to see a ferry pulling in. This was unexpected.

‘Shall we catch the ferry?’ I said to Mike, half-joking.
‘Why not?’ he shrugged, which is basically how most of our decisions get made.

Next thing we know, we’re sitting in line wondering how this turned into a spontaneous cruise. Then the guy comes to take our money. ‘That’ll be 1000 kroner,’ he says.

A thousand kroner! That’s about 90 euros! We looked at each other, shrugged, and paid anyway. At that point, it felt too awkward to back out, and besides, the sun had come out, the scenery was stunning, and honestly, it’s just money! (I can always get a job!)

While we waited to board the ferry, I stripped off my layers, suddenly super hot, thinking it must be at least 11 degrees. Turned out we had a high of 19! That was such a contrast to the previous few days. It’s funny, I’d be layered up at home in 19 degrees!

We drove Bertie on board, and he had a front row seat! The cruise through the fjord was gorgeous . Towering cliffs rose straight from the water, with waterfalls pouring out their sides. It was like sailing through a Norwegian version of the  Milford Sound crossed with the Doubtful Sound, only more enclosed, and somehow even more dramatic. We cruised for an hour before docking in the small town of Hellesylt, tucked into the end of the fjord.

And then came the question: Where to from here?

We didn’t have a plan. There was a larger, more official-looking road heading right, and a smaller, more suspicious-looking one veering left. Naturally, we took the left, and we were so glad we did.

The road narrowed to barely one lane in places, winding tightly between rock faces with waterfalls oozing out of them and snow-capped mountains towering over us.

We found a small pull-off overlooking a lake, surrounded by dramatic peaks. No neighbours, little traffic, it was a perfect place to stop for the night. Then we heard a long rumble.

‘Was that a rockslide?’ I asked. Even Mike looked a bit concerned. We went outside to check and all looked stable. So we shrugged, played a game of chess, and went to bed. Goodnight.