From Skervoy to the North Cape
On the Kong Harald I first look curiously around the huge ship with six or seven decks. Then I settle in on the observation deck, use the free Wi-Fi on board to communicate extensively with home, and try to get some sleep on a couch after midnight. I wake up shortly before 2 a.m. on Friday, June 27th, and can thus witness the ship entering the harbor of Oksfjord through the beautiful fjord up close and in full daylight, which, of course, is 24 hours a day up here in the north (Picture 1).
After that, I try once again—but pretty much in vain—to get some sleep. At 5:10 a.m., we reach Hammerfest, the northernmost city in the world. At the breakfast buffet – which this time seems to be included in the price – my spirits, somewhat weary after the short night, are revived by a hearty meal. As we enter the port of Honningsvag, we spot whales on the port side. At 11 a.m., we dock, I drive off the ramp and then take the road to the North Cape, 8 km to a campsite.
Due to the Arctic temperatures, I rent a room and inquire about the bus connection to North Cape, which had been mentioned by both ChatGPT and friends who had taken the Hurtigruten cruise. Unfortunately, this bus connection had been discontinued at the end of 2024, and only cruise passengers are taken up to North Cape in specially chartered buses.
Given the daunting route profile – two steep climbs of 400 m each on the way there and one of them also on the way back, together with the smaller terrain waves, adding up to a total of 1300 meters of elevation gain over a distance of less than 60 km – I struggled for a long time with the decision of whether to cycle up. But since I had gone out on a limb with so many friends and acquaintances with my announcement that I was going to the North Cape, I had no choice but to get on my bike after all.
Info: Throughout the entire tour, the gradients were rarely steeper than 10%, and the elevation gain was never over 400 m. So it's a good ride for younger riders.
Surprisingly, despite the very short night,the considerable incline and my 81 years, things are going better than I had feared, partly because I had unloaded my luggage beforehand, of course. The first 400-meter climb is completed quite quickly, and the descent to sea level even more so, of course. On the second climb, I find it increasingly difficult to pedal, especially as the weather conditions continue to deteriorate—biting cold, light rain, fog, and a stormy wind—putting my morale to the test (Picture 2).
The higher I climb, the thicker the fog becomes, as I gradually disappear into low-hanging clouds. Shortly before reaching my destination, the fog lifts (Picture 3), the sun comes out, and within a few minutes, I have a completely clear view—of a huge parking lot with hundreds of buses, caravans, cars, motorcycles, and four bicycles. Nevertheless, I am delighted to have finally reached the top, to have fulfilled a long-cherished dream and to enjoy the wonderful view. Of course, like hundreds of cruise passengers, I also have my photo taken in front of the globe as proof that I have reached my first destination (Picture 4).
After enjoying the view for about two hours (Picture 5), I set off on my way back. At first, the sun still warms me from the bright blue sky (Picture 6), but a very stormy, icy wind almost sweeps me off the road. Freezing, I race down the first descent. On the next 400-meter climb, I start to sweat, only to shiver even more from the cold on the last rapid descent.
Once I arrive in my room, I turn on the electric heater, take a hot shower, and make myself some tea. Only then am I ready to make my dinner and eat a hearty meal. Finally, I get my things ready for the next day, send out my victory announcement to the world, and fall into bed at 10 p.m., exhausted.
by bikewolf44