Cycling the Lofoten Islands

BEEN THERE

Lofoten Islands, Norway

We stand in dazzling day-long Arctic sunshine, at the side of a small coastal road, cooled by a gentle breeze.  Drawing breath, the air has a purity and sharpness that exists nowhere else.  Looking inland, meadows ripple with tall wild flowers, a sight that has not been seen in Britain since the scythe made way for the Industrial Revolution.  Sudden rushes of the scents of medieval spring and summer complement the dazzle of yellow, green and white.  There are contrasts of pink and purple from the wild orchids and early lilac blossom, although it is late in June.  To the east of the road the sea shimmers with a palette of marine colour.  Over the silver sand beaches, empty of any footfall, the water is a translucent turquoise blue.  All around, awesome mountains rise, seemingly straight out of the sea, still flecked with snow in their deep gullies.  The few dwellings that are visible contrast grey roofs with walls of a beautiful muted ochre or deep red colour.  Here and there, tiny fishing smacks of varnished wood dot the waters.

We are on the chain of islands that make up the ‘Lofoten Wall’.  100 miles of jagged peaks, running southwest from the north Norwegian coast in a gently curving line and stretching 50 miles out to sea, shelter a beautiful gulf – the Vestfjord – the Western fjord.  As the islands gradually peter out to the south, they become ever more remote.  On two of the larger outliers live up to a quarter of Norway’s entire population of seabirds, surrounded by seals, fish eagles, and the occasional killer whale.  The feeling of detachment from reality is enhanced by the fact that at 69º North, it is impossible to tell exactly what time of day it is.  There is a purity here which exists in only a very few places.

We travelled independently, used SAS, Braathens, and Widerøe airlines, and hired bicycles in the islands’ capital, Svolvaer.  We stayed mostly in converted fishermen’s cottages or ‘rorbu’, which means ‘red house’.  In the past I have sailed up the coast from Bødø, another magnificent way to experience the Lofotens.

In favour of coming here?  Take the most picturesque Scandinavian scenery you can imagine and go beyond it.  Against?  It’s expensive.  You’ve got to like fish, particularly cod (cod’s tongues are a frequent menu item).  Wine costs around four times as much as in the U.K.  Much of the accommodation is self-catering – not easy if you’re cycling or hiking.  Not many travel operators come here.  The flights are reliable but expensive.  The season is short.  Many of the internal tours or ferries only operate from late June.  The major travel species seems to be German, either in coaches or enormous Winnebago like vehicles.  They obviously left reluctantly in 1945 and have been reconquering ever since.  Finally, although the people are charming and very helpful, and mostly speak English, the tourist offices only seem to open in May, and it can be difficult to arrange your own visit at such short notice.

Andrew McLeod.  Poole, Dorset.