Meeting with journalists

After some fantastic birding at Jæren, I made my way hastily to the town of Brusand to get ahead of an approaching bout of windy and wet weather. The terrain was relatively flat which made the cycling easier. I arrived in the early evening and camped next to a soccer field on the outskirts of town. The next morning I managed a few hours of relaxed birding in the area while exploring some of the roads leading into the hilly and wooded countryside. Though I did not see any new bird species, I was pleased to see a Golden Eagle soaring over the hills. 

The hilly countryside at Brusand.

 

My next stop was a little further south at the harbour at Sirevåg, where another Iceland Gull had been sighted. I arrived an hour or so before sunset, and scanned all the Herring Gulls in the hope of finding one with white primaries, the most characteristic feature of an Iceland Gull. With only around 40 gulls in the harbour, I suspected my chances of finding the Iceland Gull were slim. According to a local whom I met in the harbour, most of the gulls were not around as the weather was inappropriate. I set up camp in a small valley on the edge of town in an attempt to take shelter from the wind that had started up. Next morning the rain had joined forces with the wind, as predicted by the weather forecast, making birding somewhat challenging. After searching the harbour fruitlessly for a couple of hours I eventually decided to move on. I was getting drenched and still had a way to go to Egersund, the next milestone.

The rain had set in for good and did not abate for a minute the entire day. It was well after dark when I eventually pulled off the road south of Egersund to set up camp. The terrain was not ideal but I had decided I had had enough for the day. The rain was still pouring when I rigged the tent and crawled inside. The next morning, I was dismayed to find that a rodent had eaten a few big holes through the ground sheet of my tent to get at the foam mattress! Oh well, normal wear and tear! I pushed on through the hilly countryside to a town called Hauge, where I spent a few midday hours drying camping gear and birding in a picturesque valley. Jays seemed to be everywhere while Waxwings regularly flew by in small flocks, though there seemed to be little else around.

Outside Hauge, drying camping gear for the umpteenth time!

 

Just out of town I encountered the first of three steep climbs; I had hoped for a flatter road but it was not to be. As I started the climb, two journalists in a car pulled up next to me and asked for an interview! I clearly looked out of place with a touring bike in early winter! After a brief chat at the top of the hill, I got some tips on the road ahead before enjoying the downhill. As recommended by the journalists, I stopped at a cultural heritage site called Helleren at the bottom of the hill. Here two wooden houses estimated to be around 200 years old stand protected from the rain by a large rock overhang. It’s amazing that generations of people lived in these houses, making a living from fish caught in the sea and hardy sheep that could survive on the limited fodder available.   

A tunnel on the downhill to Helleren cultural site.

One of two houses at Helleren that has stood the test of time.

At Flekkefjord I had a chance to dry out my sleeping bag properly thanks to the helpful staff at the information centre. There’s almost nothing worse than being greeted by a moist sleeping bag after a day in the rain, except perhaps for slipping on wet socks and boots in the morning! The next day I arrived at a small town called Kvinesdal, and headed straight for the nearest source of free internet. While working in the reception area of the town hall, I was approached by an elderly gentleman who was interested to know about my travels.  He could not resist informing the local journalist about the new stranger in town and it was not long before I was interviewed by Andy and Tor. When they heard that I was heading out of town that afternoon in the rain, they made a call to the owner of the Kvinesdal Guesthouse. Soon I had a free room for the night at the guesthouse, thanks to Tor, Andy, and the generous guesthouse owner. I was treated well in Kvinesdal; even the staff at the town hall chipped–in to replace my worn-out safety vest! That evening it was great to be able to unsaddle the bike without having to pitch a tent, knowing that everything would be dry and ready for another day on the road. The next morning I met with Andy, who kindly bought me breakfast at a nearby cafeteria. From our discussions I learnt that Andy had a project going in East Africa that involved financial contributions towards the construction of a school in a rural village. The knowledge that there are dedicated people making a positive contribution to the lives of less-privileged individuals made me again realise that there is a lot of good in this world.

A pedestrian bridge by night in Kvinesdal.

 

With much anticipation I headed out of Kvinesdal towards my next birding destination on the coast, namely Lista. I had four days to spare before ending the Norwegian leg of my trip and wanted to spend the time getting to know another of Norway’s best birding sites. Not even the drenching rain could dampen my spirits as I took to the road. 

On the road from Kvinesdal to Lista.

Making it to southern Norway

The next milestone after leaving Bergen was Stavanger, my gateway to southern Norway and to the best birding spots in the country. Leaving Bergen I also left behind the last of the snow and ice that had made cycling more challenging the week before. I also had a few ferries still to catch on the way to Stavanger. One of these ferries was delayed by more than 12 hours due to engine trouble, so I spent a night in one of the waiting rooms at the ferry port. Thanks to the heater inside I was happy to wait!

The comfortable waiting room at the ferry port.

 

Though I did not get to do much birding on the way to Stavanger, I did get to see a couple of new species for my Norwegian list, such as Mute Swan and Common Crossbill. Jays and Waxwings were suddenly more common than before, and were seen and heard regularly along the way. Some of the agricultural fields near Fitjar town were packed with Fieldfares and the occasional Redwing.

A Fieldfare, one of many on the agricultural fields at Fitjar.

After spending a night in another waiting room at a ferry port just north of Stavanger, I arrived in town early. I made my way to the public library to check emails and complete some admin work. Using Google Earth, I found a potential camping site in a park not far from the city centre which seemed remote enough for wild camping. When I arrived at the site in the evening, I headed towards the largest and darkest patch I could find. Confident that I had found a good spot, I pitched my tent for the night. Next morning I woke to find that there were two walking paths passing my tent by some 15 metres! Some morning joggers and a group of pre-school children must have been astonished to see my tent in the middle of the wooded park. So much for stealth camping! 

Crossing a bridge on the way to Stavanger.

After staying a couple days in Stavanger, I headed south towards Jæren, one of the best birding areas in Norway. A rare Isabelline Wheatear had been seen there during the preceding week, so I had even more reason to get there sooner than later. On the way south I stopped at a small bay at Hafrsfjord to find the American Wigeon that had been in the area for some years; a nice bird to add to my Norwegian list. The bird was a male in full breeding plumage and was amongst dozens of Wigeons, Mallards and Velvet Scoters. The next stop was the small harbour of Ølberg where an Iceland Gull had been sighted the week before. Despite scanning all the Herring Gulls there was no sign of the gull. With the sun setting it was time to find a campsite for the night; a spot behind the beach dunes at Bore was in order!

The male American Wigeon (right) at Hafrsfjord.

The next day I worked my way down the coast, visiting any accessible small bays and beaches with lots of kelp in the hope of finding a rare pipit or wheatear. It was while visiting one of these bays that I was surprised to meet Martin, whom I first met on Røst Island in late September. Martin had just finished a survey of dead seabirds along a stretch of beach, so I joined him for a short stint of birding. After getting some tips on where to find some specials in the area, Martin and I parted ways as he had to return to a long day at work.

The open spaces of Jæren, one of Norway's best birding areas.

 

At Orrevatnet, a large fertile lake in the northern part of Jæren, the birding was particularly good. Although the Isabelline Wheatear was no longer in the area, there were still other good birds to chase. The ploughed agricultural lands surrounding the lake held large numbers of Meadow Pipits, White Wagtails and Lapwings. The single Bewick’s Swan that had been associating with a large flock of Whooper Swans was still present, adding a nice lifer to my list. A distant Hen Harrier gliding over the marshes was a nice surprise, while a Sparrowhawk made a brief appearance when it perched on a fence close by. I visited the beach near the village of Orre to search for another bird that had been in the area for some years, namely a Surf Scoter (an American species). While a number of other species were riding the waves close to the shore, such as Goldeneye, Red-breasted Merganser, Razorbill, Great Northern Diver, Velvet and Common Scoter, there was no sign of the scoter.  I scanned the surf on a number of occasions during the day without any luck.

The next day I met up with Kjell, whom I first met while birding on Vaerøy Island in Lofoten. Kjell and his family kindly hosted me for a night, and Kjell even managed to arrange a morning off from work to take me birding to his local patches. Some of the first species encountered included a Water Rail calling from the reedbeds in front of Kjell’s house, a number of Great Crested Grebe pairs, a few Common Buzzards and a female Pochard. Our attempt to find the Surf Scoter was successful, and so I finally got to see the stunning male bird that Kjell himself found five years earlier at the same location. Later we visited a small lake to get views of male Pochards, but instead were rewarded with great views of a small group of Bearded Reedlings moving through the reedbed. The males are incredibly beautiful birds with their blue-grey heads and drooping black ‘moustaches’. Simply great birding! Moving on we visited some beaches strewn with kelp with the hope of finding a vagrant bird. While nothing unusual was about, we did get to see a pair of Purple Sandpiper in attractive winter plumage. As the birding slowly came to an end, we picked up the single Carrion Crow amongst some Hooded Crows; another bird that had been in the area for some years. 

Kjell scanning the surf.

­According to the weather forecast, a spell of wind and rain was two days away.  It was therefore best to leave as soon as possible for the next major birding destination to the south, namely Lista. Leaving Jæren was not easy, as the area clearly has huge potential for good birds. Though I had arrived somewhat late in the season (October is best) I could easily have spent a week there. Yet another place I will return too sometime in the future...

A second episode in the snow

Camping on a hill south of Maløy on the coast of Western Norway, I awoke to something that sounded like rain pelting down on the tent. A quick look outside confirmed my suspicion – ice!  I had one episode before that involved cycling through ice and snow on a mountain top, and I was not planning on going through a second so soon, or so close to sea level. The evening before seemed so perfect, so still, with the promise of a clear day ahead.   

The view from a ferry ride; not such a clear day after all.

I was now a little more anxious about getting to Bergen, considering that my bike was not fitted with steel-studded wheels for ice conditions. I took to the road nice and easy at first, but since the ice and snow was fresh, it was relatively safe to travel at normal speed. As I made my way south towards Førde, I noticed how the depth of the snow increased, and how my speed steadily diminished. I was not going to make it to Førde in one day. I was struggling up the long inclines, while a snapped gear cable kept me from maintaining a reasonable speed on level ground. 

Looking back during a long steady climb. Got to watch the road!

 

I reached the small town of Eikefjord before sunset, and decided to follow the signs to the local campsite rather than attempt to camp off the road as I usually did. My inflatable mattress had packed up ages ago, but somehow I had managed to get away with sleeping ‘close to the ground’. I was just not sure how comfortable it would be to sleep on a few inches of snow without any insulation. Not sure whether I was still going in the right direction towards the campsite, I asked two ladies for directions. Fortunately they knew of a campsite 5 km further down the road at Storebru. Even better, they knew the brother of the campsite owner, who happened to live just a few meters from where we were standing. So after a phone call and clear directions to the location thanks to the gentleman and his iPad, I knew where I was going to spend the night. I was extremely grateful to the three locals for assisting me; I felt relaxed for the first time that day.

Passing through Eikefjord in the early evening.

The owner of the campsite, Hans, was extremely helpful and resourceful. He very kindly offered me a cabin, instead of a camping spot, at a rate I could not refuse. Hans also offered to give me a lift through the tunnel I would encounter the next day, as it was closed to cyclists. He pointed out that the alternative road over the mountain was not used by motorists and would therefore not have been treated with salt, making it a treacherous path to cross by bicycle. Further, he also arranged a specialist in Førde to take a look at my infected toe the next day. Somehow, probably while walking barefoot through a flooded marshland to reach a bird hide, I must have lacerated my toe without knowing (my feet were numb from the cold water!). 

Comfortable cabins at Endestad Camping (www.endestad-camping.no) .

  

Thanks to Hans I was able to spend a warm and dry night indoors, and fully appreciate the snow and white-coated surroundings outside. I also took the opportunity to replace the broken gear cable and service the bike. Next morning, as promised, Hans not only took me through the tunnel, but the whole 30 km to Førde. Though I was prepared to cycle the distance, I was relieved not to have to deal with the blizzard that was passing through the area. After getting the toe treated in town, I was off south again. For the next couple days I traveled through snow-covered landscapes to Bergen. With my eyes fixed to the road, I did very little birding. I did however notice the usual species such as Ravens, Hooded Crows, Blackbirds, Great and Blue Tits, Fieldfares, and Redwings.

A view over the river at Endestad Camping.

Keeping my eyes on the road did not always help. I soon discovered what ‘black ice’ refers too, the hard way, literally! It was around sunset, after a rapid drop in the ambient temperature, that I first noticed the rear wheel slip a little. Surprised, but not concerned, I continued further down the road. The next time the rear wheel moved sideways there was no stopping it, and I came down rather rapidly on my right side, ending with a short slide. A loaded touring bike has a lot of momentum! That was the first time I had fallen while cycling, the second time was five minutes later and this time on the left side. For some reason I found this amusing, probably because I had just considered the odds of exactly what had happened. Needless to say, I decided it was time to call it a day and pitch the tent! 

Getting ready to for another day on the icy roads.

In Bergen I met up with Oscar, a student whom I met at Moskenes in Lofoten.  At the time he was catching the ferry to Bodø, while I hopped off early at Vaerøy Island. There was just enough time on the joint ferry ride to get acquainted and exchange email addresses. Oscar kindly accommodated me for two nights at his student digs, for which I was grateful as I had a number of errands to run in town. Oscar’s fellow dorm mates were also most accommodating; I enjoyed our discussions around the kitchen table though I think I did most of the talking! It certainly beats talking to oneself while on the road.

Heading down Western Norway

I left Molde on a ten-minute ferry ride across a portion of the Moldefjord. Once across, I cycled through broad-leaved woodland displaying a variety of awesome autumn colours. Nuthatches and Great Spotted Woodpeckers were common, and I took a second glance at each woodpecker to make sure I wasn’t missing any of the white-backed variety. Not far down the road, while watching a small party of birds, I found my first Pygmy Owl. Awesome little birds! This species closely resembles the Pearl-spotted Owlet in Africa, except that it does not have the two spots ('eyes') at the back of the head.

The first major town I visited was Ålesund, where I made an unsuccessful four-hour search for the Little Grebes that usually hang out at one of the nutrient-rich lakes within the residential area. Determined to find the species, I promised myself to pay the lake another visit on my return from Giske Island, just offshore from Ålesund. To get to Giske I had to take a bus ride through two sub-sea tunnels and over a bridge, which connect Giske to the mainland via two other islands, if that makes any sense? Though I arrived in the dark, I had taken a look at the layout of the island on Google Earth, so had a good idea where to pitch my tent for my two day stay.

The north western side of Giske Island, looking out to sea.

Giske is a fairly small island so it was easy getting around by bike - I completed the road circuit on the island several times! The main species I wanted to find at Giske was Red-necked Grebe. Unfortunately, since I only had binoculars, I only had distant views of what I thought must be the species. Not satisfied that I could make a positive identification, I left the species off my bird list. However, I was rewarded with great views of Velvet Scoter, a black sea duck with a bright orange bill. These were common around the island, as well as Common Scoters, Red-breasted Mergansers, Red-throated Divers, Goldeneyes, Common Eiders, Wigeons and Long-tailed Ducks. The latter I had not seen for some time, so it was great to finally see the males in their splendid winter plumage. The occasional Razorbill was also seen flying past close to shore. The shoreline on the north western side of the island held Common Shelducks, Curlews, Bar-tailed Godwits, Dunlins, Redshanks, Sanderlings, and a pair of Grey Plovers. A pair of Ruddy Turnstones amongst some rocks was a nice surprise. I was also pleased to see my first male Teal in breeding plumage; a small but attractive duck indeed! I scoured the grasslands near the shorelines for rare pipits but only got the usual species such as Meadow and Rock Pipits, as well as Skylarks, Snipes and occasionally a flock of Twites. 

A Velvet Scoter, a common species along the Norwegian West Coast.

After my two days at Giske, I headed back to Ålesund through the tunnels again. A quick visit to the lake in search of the Little Grebe was quick indeed. A single grebe was the first bird I saw on the water as I approached! A far cry from the four-hour search just days before - but that’s how it works, this hobby called birding. South of Ålesund I took a couple of ferries to ensure I stayed on the scenic coastal route. It was while rushing to catch one of these ferries that I had my first views of a somewhat shy White-backed Woodpecker. Woodpeckers can sometimes hide pretty well behind a pole at the best of times, and this one was no exception. After clinching the most important features on the bird before it moved off, I was happy to resume my rush to catch the morning ferry ride.

A typical ferry at the port.

On my way south along the coast, I made a detour to a recommended birding location called Ervik. Ervik lies nestled between two mountain ridges, and has an idyllic beach, a few houses, some agricultural fields and a lake. I could have settled there permanently! Its also known amongst surfers, and there were two at the time trying to catch waves. Back to birding, the target species here was Stonechat. Expecting to find one perched on a fence like they do in South Africa, I eventually found one foraging within a patch of shrubs behind the beach. The bird was very discreet and spent most of the time close to the ground, only perching occasionally. He was in the company of a large flock of Greenfinches and a Wren. 

A view over Ervik, with the beach on the left and the lake on the right.

From the cliff overlooking the sea I tried scanning for migrating seabirds, but once again it was clear I lacked stronger optics. The only birds I could identify were the ones close to shore, and these included a flock of Common Scoters, and the occasional Gannet flying by. It was interesting to watch the scoters ride the rough surf without landing on top of the rocks; they seem quite content getting tossed about by the swells and having waves crash down on them!

A view from the cliffs at Ervik, while trying to identify passing seabirds.

Although the weather held back occasionally, the rain and wind was rather relentless at Ervik. When I heard from a local resident that the forecast for the next day was less rosy, I decided it would be best to move on. Besides, it was still a long stretch to get to Bergen, the next major milestone. I headed for Maløy, a significant fishing port to the south of Ervik, and took the early evening ferry ride across the fjord. I found a camping spot beside the road close to the top of the first hill. The evening was perfect, moderate temperature, no sign of rain, and no wind. Perhaps a little too perfect…