Dateline: Nusfjord, Norway
The village of Reine in the Lofoten Islands
We motored the few miles from Å this morning. Got an 8am start while the Scots slept; we would have sailed — the wind was great — but on that angle of sail Polar Bear would have heeled over at a nice, sharp 45 degrees or so…and all of the Scots on the port side of the boat would have rolled right out of their bunks.
Our arrival was observed by everyone in this picture-postcard village. They all turned out to watch Boogie maneuver the 72-foot beast of a boat into an insanely narrow harbor. I’d have never tried it, not with the narrow waterway, fishing/tour boats already tied up on one side and a shallow spot right in front of where we wanted to tie up. But credit where credit is due: the boy pulled it off.
The fishing village-turned-living museum of Nusfjord
Upon arrival, everyone took off to explore the village. It’s actually an ex-fishing village that has been preserved as a tourist destination and historical spot, complete with refurbished fisherman’s cabins you can rent, tours you can take and videos of the area’s history you can watch. All for a price, of course; and in Norway, the price is quite steep. According to the young guys working in the bar, there are 35 residents — up from 16 a year ago.
While the now-awake Scots dispersed for an afternoon of kayaking or fishing, I threw on a pair of swim trunks that looked like a painting by the bastard child of Jackson Pollock and Gauguin (but they’re the lightest shorts I have) and my Keen hiking sneakers and took off up the one road into Nusfjord for a run. I went about five miles (turned around at the 3-plus kilometer mark) in 41 minutes and felt surprisingly good…not bad for having not run since February in San Diego and for the weather being as hot as it was. And bonus! My knee only ached during and after the run.
I got back to the boat and wandered over the grass-covered rock outcropping to which we were tied (visible on the left in the video I hope to post) and, after much waffling, dove my hot, tired, sweaty ass into that icy fjord. To be honest, it wasn’t THAT cold — bearable but not mindlessly comfortable, cold but not frigid — and about what I expected. Made my legs and feet feel better, that’s for sure, and cleaned the muck of the run right off.
Then I took ‘er easy in the afternoon, sippin’ a beer in the sun on the restaurant’s deck while I got caught up on the world via my laptop. And while I pondered a bunch there, getting sunburned here at the top of the world, I believe I’ll keep this post to a travelogue. There will be time for philosophizing later on.
PS: Tried to upload a video I took from the bow as we entered the harbor at Nusfjord but Blogger won’t have any of it. I’ll try it on my Facebook page.