Day 18 part 2. Hvåra Bru to Larvik, then ferry to Hirtshals.
The rest of the day was pretty uneventful except for a bit of excitement when we entered Larvik. On the way in it started feeling a little familiar. At one roundabout I started going the wrong way to discover a sign for the NSCR. We must have been here last year we both said but could not quite place it. A little further up I started remembering where we were and shortly afterwards we both recognised a section that ran straight across a park and children's play area. We'd both found it funny last year so it had stuck in our minds.
A couple of hundred metres further up and we recognised an industrial estate we took a wrong turning in in 2005 and then a waterfront and beach area. It was becoming all very familiar now and it and was nice to be back. By two thirty Damae was in the ticket office buying two singles to Hirtshals with bikes. This gave us an hour to do stuff, so we headed up into the town of Larvik itself.
To be honest we'd whizzed past Larvik the previous year stopping only at the train station for a mid-morning snack, so it was a bit surprising to find a nice neat shopping centre to the town up the hill. Damae had asked about a bike shop in the tiny tourist information bureau, armed with directions we went up the hill.
The first of the two things we did in Larvik was to visit the aforementioned bike shop to buy a new bit for my derailleur, and a chain cleaner. My free wheel on the rear cassette seemed to be doing strange things that is not freewheeling, although I hadn't quite worked out what the problem was. I knew my bearings were probably fine so it was a bit puzzling that the bike was still making noises. So maybe a clean chain and a properly functioning cog would help.
The second and last act of our trip to Norway was the ritual buying of food. This had two functions. One was to pick up a last batch of Tine yoghurts and the other to get rid of Norwegian Kroner, or at least as much as possible. After all, we still had to eat on the boat.
Then in a little bit of a hurry we whizzed down to the ferry lineup getting little a stuck as to how to cross the railway line. We ended up a couple of hundred metres apart, Damae having missed me at one point, Damae looking my way not seeing me whilst I was waving frantically. That minor mis-communication sorted we stood in line with other cyclists waiting to cycle up the ramp into the bowels of the ship. I felt like a voluntary Jonah.
We were directed to a spot on one of the car decks where there were already a few cyclists lashing their bikes down. Once we'd added ours to the collection we found our way into the passenger friendly part of the ship, though not before taking the wrong door and being re-directed.