2 Elusive

From Demark, I took a ferry to Germany and spent a day and night in Hamburg. Primarily, I came here to buy some relatively cheap climbing gear at the well-known Global Trotter store, but I was greeted with no stock—all sold out after the summer craziness. I did, however, still have fun in the store; lots of gimmicky gadgets for prospective buyers to become creative and rationalise (i.e. if I don’t buy anything now, I dinted the van for no good reason)

Somewhere between Hamburg and Zurich, Switzerland I rested for a night and then blasted my way to Zurich. Germans seem to be personable, hungry for life; however, and I don’t mean to be rude, the older generation, who seem to own all the caravan parks, carry the reputably humourless, bureaucratic and painfully formal qualities. Perhaps it was just my bad luck when I was greeted with such people at the two camping sites. Either way, I didn’t feel like hanging around to prove my generalisation wrong.

So, what are the plans now? Well, previously, our friend, Karl, offhandedly mentioned that his Danish friends have an apartment in Switzerland. Naturally, I delved into opportunist mode and queried further, subsequently met the lovely owners and voila—I have keys to an apartment in Switzerland! More specifically, the apartment’s located in a small village, Arndamatt, which is about 120 km southeast of Zurich. We’ll hang there for a week or two and deliberate our next adventure.

After a healthy dose of the city, I drove to Kjugekull, located 560 km south of Stockholm, for a bout of bouldering. Kjuge is Sweden’s preeminent bouldering location and it’s worth visiting; it’s a beautiful forest, scattered with interestingly-shaped granite boulders begging to be climbed. I camped on a tiny island, the closest site from Kjuge, which is accessed via a 500-metre ferry ride—this is, unbelievably, a free service (unheard of in Scandinavia). The highlight here was the eerie sound of nearby gunshots at night. I dismissed the first two as nothing to worry about, but when the third, forth, fifth and sixth went off, I was getting seriously worried, especially when the other campers were running around and some desperately drove off. I pulled a curious German aside after I spied her movements to the questionable location. Turns out the source were two old men ‘testing’ their rifles—they didn’t know that it was illegal to fire outside a designated firing area. Phew!

I spent three days at Kjuge, climbing with some Germans (they’re everywhere!), until the rain chased me out. I drove on to Lomma, Sweden to see the lovely KKs and spent a night at their spacious home (at this point, Ol felt that he could safely confess on the phone that it’s damn good to be out of the van). Also in Lomma, my other objective was to collect a pricey parcel, sent from Aus, from the post office. I paid a hefty fee of some sort and collected the parcel; however, amongst the cloud of to-do lists, I absent-mindedly left the parcel at a supermarket, which hosts the small post office. I was in Demark before I realised—doh!

After Lomma, I spent the day in Malmö (still in Sweden), strolling past the crafty stalls and tantalisingly-scented food courts (I finally relented and opted for Thai food; a celebratory change from boring van lunch). I planned to spend the night in Malmo, but on learning that the city centre camping site only accepted a Scandinavian camping card (for the price of an arm and a leg), and given that I was leaving Scandinavia, my inner frugalness protested (it’s true, Ol!) and I drove on to a camping site in Denmark. The bridge linking Sweden and Denmark is 7.8 km long and curves laterally. The crosswind on the bridge is incredible—I actually had a sore arm from resisting the fierce wind. There’s good reason why there are surrounding wind turbines.

I’m in Zurich, just arrived last night. I’ve travelled more than 2000 km and I’m pleased to report to my virtual mechanic that there were no flat tyres; however, the anticipation of being sentenced to the grim task of changing a flat was nerve-racking, like a defendant waiting for a verdict.

There were only three van issues worth mentioning: 1) the van stopped on a highway in Hamburg after all the heavy rain. Fortunately, I just needed to spray CRC inside the distributor cap, to push the moisture out, for the van to start again. I must add that it’s not an easy process to access the engine; it’s located at the back, accessible from inside, which is underneath all our gear, which has to be relocated to the front to access the beast’s lifeless heart. 2) a sizable metal protection plate from underneath the van almost ripped off—I had only noticed it at a petrol station. I couldn’t manage to remove the only bolt gripping the corroded plate so I went to a nearby mechanic for help. 3) heavy traffic, thanks to road works and heavy rain, in Hamburg caused the van to typically overheat. As usual, turning on the heaters reduced the temp.

To entertain, I must confess a couple of minor blunders: 1) having to use the reserve fuel on my way to Kjogekull, Sweden from Stockholm. Note: satellite navigation is not to be trusted! Or at least, I should update the maps because where there were supposed to be fuel stations on the remote country road, there were definitely none. The sites were either replaced by a conspicuously new shopping centre or warehouse, or simply decommissioned. 2) I dinted the van while backing out of a really tight car park in Hamburg. I should learn to just avoid these…tight situations

Van tribulations aside, I spent the first few days in Stockholm once Ol departed for Brazil. Loitering around in the city was refreshing after all the climbing at Lofoten. After you filter out the armies of tourists wielding ice creams and shopping bags, Stockholm, particularly the Old Town, is truly a beautiful city. There are old waterfront buildings; warrens of narrow cobblestoned streets; imposing castles; romantic bridges; sparkling clean waterways; funky cafes; and loads of friendly Swedes. I happily spent three days in Stockholm before I felt the climbing bug bite.

A traveller friend recently exclaimed that the pound was killing them in the UK. Well, I can guarantee that a visit to Scandinavia will be carnage to any savings. Despite Norway being the world’s fifth-largest oil exporter, the price of unleaded fuel in Norway was a boggling AU$2.84/L, and marginally better in Sweden at AU$2.48/L. The price for a regular cup of coffee (Ol’s necessity) in Norway was around AU$5-7. A pint of beer, to celebrate the Vestpillaren feat, cost us AU$13. To have a mechanic just visit us yesterday would have cost us a criminal AU$500!

So, I’ve sent Ol overseas to earn some money to support his ‘necessities’

We’re didn’t make it to Stockholm; we scored flat tyre no.’s 5 and 6. We’re stranded at a camping ground, 200 km north of Stockholm, because mechanics in Sweden definitely don’t work on the weekends. If it had to happen, getting a flat close to a camping ground, alongside the remote highway, was timely.

We used magic glue ‘Super HELP’ thanks to Ol’s Dad’s advice when the spare tyre began to deflate. The tyre sealant is a marvel: the can we used is filled with a liquid that is propelled, using compressed air inside the can into the tire via a flexible tube attached to the valve stem, into the tyre. As soon as the liquid’s inside the tyre, it’s forced towards the puncture and blocks it—magic!

What’s also a marvel is getting 6 flat tyres over the 5000 km travelled. It’s inevitable that I’ll be contending with several more flats on my own…oh joy!

Right now, we’re driving to Stockholm (and the Taj’s inability to attain subsonic levels has forced us to concede defeat; we’re finally wearing earplugs). Lofoten was an awesome experience but once we conquered Vestpillaren on Presten, everything paled a bit and motivation dwindled. Preston is a really impressive slab of rock; clean and striking against the brilliant water, something that may inspire Yosemite dwellers (Steve.H springs to mind). The remaining rock is nice but inferior; it’s common to climb over grassy ledges and mossy rock and the approach distances and scrambling descents are much less then desirable. Aside from the climbing quality, I’m totally in need of a mental break from traditional climbing. It’s been four months of trad climbing epics; now it’s time to put the rack down and, perhaps, do a little meditative bouldering or something else that doesn’t require exposed heights and mental stamina.

So, we’re on our way to Stockholm where there will be darkness at night­—can’t wait to sleep blindfoldless! Light aside, a plane in Stockholm also waits Ol: on Tuesday he’s flying to Belo Horizonte, Brazil for a 2-week business trip. He’s cleverly managed to strike a deal with an Australian company to work remotely on process plant modeling.

I’ll slowly make my way to Zurich (where Ol will return to) and perhaps detour to Bergen, Norway (to visit some guys we met at Lofoten), or boulder in Switzerland or France. Or, like always, I’ll just let life take me on a random path where I’ll undoubtedly get sidetracked from any previous planning