The Atlantic Road.

Woke with a right lip on this morning. Don't know why really; maybe it was being woken by a couple of earthquakes during the night; maybe it was because Steve was up and about being his usual efficient self; maybe it was because he'd used all the milk on his cereal; maybe it was because the morning was grey and drizzly and I've got used to the sun shining; maybe it's because I'm often just a grumpy bastard in the morning. Anyway, Steve, with his sensitive Ewok nose, had picked up on my mood and decided not to attempt further communication until I'd lightened up a bit. Good move.

So, we packed up and with the nearest bike dealer programmed into Steve's Satnav, he led us straight to their door in short order. He quickly established that they'd got a suitable rear tyre in stock and were prepared to fit it to a loose wheel, so I left him to it and buggered of to get some breakfast and take a happy pill.

A couple of tasty buns and a cappuccino later, I was back to life and returned to the bike shop with an extra bun as a peace offering. Turns out one of the mechanics at 'Ride Trondheim' is a top bloke and into his bike racing. He helped sort the tyre change and then showed us around a race bike he had prepared for, quote; "A crazy Swede" to ride. He also new one or two of my old sparring partners, so we had a bit to chat about.

 

The mechanic at 'Ride Trondheim' and his 130bhp 1985 GSXR750.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The tyre sorted and the SGD also resplendent in a newly purchased pair of pixie boots (quite nice actually, and the thicker soles have given him a couple of inches) we made our way out of the city and picked up the E39 heading west. Nothing special initially, apart from passing through several long tunnels, but after Orkanger I was buzzin. The day was flat grey and showery, but the road was now becoming a challenging twister that rose into the mountains, giving magnificent views. It was wet and the road surface was cracking up in places and quite worn. Concentration levels were high, getting my lines spot on and searching for grip, I was in my element and loving it. The road then skirted a fjord for perhaps 20 miles, giving great views as the weather picked up a little.

We stopped at a rustic, tatty looking place, the interior of which was actually very smart and warm (yep, it was finally getting pretty cold). Almost getting used to the cost of things in Norway, but £9 for two coffees and two glorified 'Kit-Kats' sort of stunned me into submission..........the effect being that it now makes everything else look reasonable! A few price comparisons: A Triumph Tiger is £15k (£8k - UK), loaf of bread £2.50, litre petrol £1.50 (diesel £1.27), can of beer £2.50 min, etc. Virtually all groceries are approx 30% dearer in my estimation......Ouch!

 

"I'm just nipping out to mow the roof love..."

 

 

 

 

 

 

We then hopped onto the Halsa/Kanestraum ferry and continued on to Kristiansund. Quite a big outpost with a working town feel. Steve informs me that a lot of offshore servicing takes place here.

The Atlantic Road (64) really begins in Kristiansund entering, as it does, a 6km long tunnel with an incredible 10% incline in and out of it. It then winds across the beautiful island of Averoy, before it's transition into the low lying causeway and bridged sections that it's most noted for. Personally, I'm impressed with the concept and engineering involved, but it's really not that special from a driving perspective....maybe I need more time to reflect on it.

As we moved down towards Molde, the weather closed in and by the time we arrived there, it was persisting! So, do we put up the tents or take a warm, dry camping cabin..................

By the way.......the earthquakes were a freight train passing about 5 metres north of my head!