Journal: Pages 35-36
cod, expertly done, back at the rorbuer restaurant in Mortsund for dinner,
served by a lovely young German woman.
May 2003, Sunday: Mortsund - Stamsund - Fiskebøl -
Melbu - Olderdalen
The quest for the North Cape, the apocryphal northernmost point of Europe, began at 03:45 from Mortsund, by which the sun was already bright as noon. I didn't leave the Lofoten islands immediately, however, but loitered around the islets littered between Stamsund and Steine, as well as revisiting Henningsvær, the ultimate fishing village for tourists.
sky veiled in white blanketed over the highlands of Troms and Finnmark, now in
the midst of Spring thaw. Mountains now bear zebra stripes of melting snow
until they get a new coat of mossy green for the summer.
sighting: guillemot, red fox, marmot
motor marathon took its toll as soon as I reached mainland; I had to pull over
and take several short naps. Any lapse of concentration behind the wheel, even
a slight drift of thought, was a perilous catalyst for unconsciousness.
The calm waters of the fjords reflect the mountains above, bringing the sky down below the horizon.