Having left the high mountains of southern and central Norway behind we were ready for ocean adventures and headed towards Lofoten Islands. After a short nap on a rather uncomfortable bench in the harbor we took the 3am ferry from Bodø to Moskenes, located on the southern tip of the island Moskenesøya.
The Lofoten archipelago is an extraordinary chain of granite mountain-islands off the coast of northern Norway, 190km north of the Arctic Circle and at the same latitude as Greenland, the Coronation Gulf in Nunavut, Canada, or the northern parts of Alaska. However, it enjoys a relatively mild climate due to the circulation of the Gulf Stream, and at the end of August we had some days with temperatures up to 23°C. The landscape is truly unique and very different from anything I’ve had seen before. We were already impressed by the scenery when we arrived with the ferry. Crags and spires rise abruptly hundreds of meters from the sea, with fishing villages and remote white-sand beaches clinging to the rocky shoreline, and hundreds of large and small lakes and white granite boulders speckling the lush green fields in between.
As Lofoten Islands can be quite overwhelming with endless possibilities and places to see we decided to focus on certain regions rather than rushing through all of them while ticking off as many landmarks as possible. Traversing Moskenesøya from south to north with only a few further stops on our way through Flakstadøya, Vestvågøy and Austvagsoya before Garth would fly back home and I would continue my journey towards Tromsø and Spitsbergen seemed like a challenging, but feasible idea.
Located in the municipalities of Moskenes and Flakstad, Moskenesøya is a 186-square-kilometre with a total population of 1,263. It consists of an agglomeration of glaciated hills with the highest peak being the 1,029-metre tall Hermannsdalstinden mountain. Conquering it involved a rather long approach, spending the night before at Munken mountain, climbing an airy ridge and negotiating a boulder field, not to mention climbing massive, smooth rocks at the very top. Hermannsdalstinden was a challenging hike, but in sunny and warm weather it was just as rewarding with the 360 degrees panoramic views over the western part of Lofoten.
As we made our way north we found ourselves in diverse terrain and contrasting backdrops, slopes full of delicious wild blue- and cloudberries, exhausting swamp crossings, traversing steep mountain ridges, and boat-hitchhiking to cross the fjords - which sometimes meant we needed to wait for hours to catch a passing vessel (attitude: we arrive when we arrive). What really stood out about Moskenesøya were the beaches we spent most of our nights at. With shallow turquoise waters, the ocean can be as clear and blue as the Caribbean or Mediterranean – surrounded by some of the oldest mountains on this planet. The quiet isolation, remoteness and sublime beauty of these places will leave you knowing you’ve found paradise. What’s the water temperature like? Rather cold, but just right for a refreshing swim. And what about finding a spot to sleep? One characteristic thing for Nordic European countries is the right of public access to the wilderness. Allemannsrett, everyman’s right allows everyone to use rural, uncultivated land for walking, camping, foraging and other outdoor activities, regardless of who owns it. While I perfectly understand (and support) implementing strict regulations for ecosystems that suffer from densely populated areas (such as the Alps), we sure enjoyed being able to pitch our tent at any remote place we found ourselves at.
The weather was in our favor until Garth left to fly back to Canada. A major storm system approached from the Arctic Ocean and it was only then I realized how lucky we were with the weather we’ve had before. Having nowhere to hide I decided to study my map for mountain huts and found Nøkksætra to be reachable within a two hours’ hike from Svolvær, the town from which Garth left. I won’t lie, I didn’t mind packing up my tent for a few days, hearing the rain thrumming on the roof and pelting the windows while I was sitting in a cozy and warm mountain hut. The storm system eventually moved on and diminished as it hit the mainland, leaving fairly unpredictable weather conditions with many showers, strong wind gusts and temperatures between 4 and 10 degrees Celsius. Sleeping outside became very adventurous. Often times you’d be woken up by torrential rain, force winds and thunder, leaving you with no choice but jumping out of your sleeping bag and trying to re-peg the tent to keep hold of it. Experiencing this kind of weather in the backcountry can be quite frightening. A couple of times it felt like the tent could take off any moment. The following days were all about making smart decisions about how to keep my most important equipment dry. Trying to make the tent a dry zone got more and more challenging every time it was set up and packed up again in pouring rain.
When my friend Tobi joined me for a few more days on the Lofoten I remembered a movie called “North of the Sun”, made by Jorn Nyseth Ranum and Inge Wegge, who had hatched a plan to live as self-imposed castaways on a remote Norwegian beach over winter in below-freezing temperatures, surfing and snowboarding, building a small cabin out of salvaged debris and driftwood, surviving only on materials washed up on the beach and scavenged food. So we packed up our stuff and hiked for two days into a beach we thought their cabin may have been, but honestly didn’t totally expect to find it. It's very well sheltered and we didn't notice it for a couple of hours roaming along the shore, but it was pretty epic to see once we found it.
When Jorn and Inge lived in this tiny cabin they cleared up more than three tons of marine litter from the beach and what they couldn't use, they stored away – in case they needed to repurpose it later on down the line. While the marine litter and plastic pollution is a worldwide problem it becomes very tangible in this bay. Due to its specific geographical characteristics and exposure, storms from the northwest wash a lot of rubbish onto the sand. Struck by the amount of debris on the beach, we decided to use our remaining (rainy) days to clean up the area while living simply. Warmth came from driftwood, washed up and burnt in a stove Inge and Jorn made out of an oil drum they found on the beach.
Our last night in this remote and special place set in rather quick and as if Lofoten wanted us to leave on a good note the skies did clear for just long enough to see one of nature's most spectacular events.