Pulpit Rock

Pulpit rock

Another lovely drive along rather too narrow, Norwegian roads – luckily we did not meet any big trucks in the thinner tunnels or hairpin bends, they were tighter than a nun’s nasty as the saying goes. The two ferries today cost around £29 in total. We do not mind paying for the ferries – their cost is covered by the lack of campsite charges. We haven’t paid a penny to park up in the most amazing places for several nights. 

The kind Norwegians provide free stations where we can empty Dickie’s toilet cassette and fill up his water tank.

setting off- unaware of the hike ahead

Our destination today was Pulpit Rock or Preikestolen. 

Over thirty years ago I did the hard climb/walk to this amazing natural viewing platform with my close school friend Rodney who sadly passed away some years ago. My fear of heights has clearly gotten worse – on my first visit I dared to lie on my belly and wriggle to the edge of the rock and peer straight down many hundreds of feet to the fjord below. This time I couldn’t go near the edge and the sight of youngsters sitting with their feet dangling over the drop gave me the collywobbles. It was a hard climb to Pulpit rock and I was secretly nervous about Kerriann who has had problems with her knees and a general wimpish nature but she did me proud.  Barely a word of complaint was uttered on the ascent and only a few minor moans on the descent. All in all another wonderful day even if our legs are a little stiff.

surveying the kingdom

our smiles belie the painful legs

G

A little stiff? I could start my moaning now but I’ll refrain. What a fab, if hideous, hot, and hard climb it was today. It was quite exhilarating though. My favourite bit was when we passed a group of Chinese tourists all clad in varying degrees of fabric, some swathed in fleece, others in glamorous street clothes, and the last lady in the line was wearing a white cardigan trimmed with blue lace. I smiled at her as we passed, she looked at me and let out the largest burp I’ve ever heard from a sixty something woman on a trail in a Norwegian forest. It took a few seconds to register then my guffaws could be heard throughout the trail. What a woman!

this is as close as I'm getting to the edge

Quite a few Aussies on the trek, along with many Germans and a Spanish woman who did not draw breath for the entire 2.5 k walk down from the rock. Sheesh! There were several dozen women who must have been at least 70 doing the trek so I thought 'if they can do it so can I'. Ugh! I hope to recover (with the aid of vodka) by tomorrow as we head up the islands towards Bergen.

It is currently 11pm. It is broad daylight outside but there is a hint that the sun may go down briefly very soon. We are parked at a marina a few kilometres from Stravangar. It’s quite windy but I don’t care as I am warm and snug in Dickie.

snug in Dickie 

K