Day 19-2. Ona to Bud contd.
The ferry sailed on under the mostly grey skies stopping first at Orten on the tiny island of Orta. As we headed on to Småge we passed a house floating on a large pontoon, or was it the mother of all houseboats ? The weather was still rather grey and we wondered if the sun was going to shine again today or if we were going to get wet at some point.
Once in Småge our route would take us across the island Gossa to the Aukra ferjekai (Aukra ferry terminal) which according to the sign was only ten kilometres away. It was a nice enough cycle with a small climb to the Aukra before we dropped into the harbour. We realised as we got there that we had a twenty minute wait so Damae picked up some coffee from the kiosk in the terminal building.
Not long afterwards I spotted the ferry leaving the other side of the fjord and after a ten minute wait on the quayside the ferry docked and boarding started. Unlike the other ferries this was very big and modern and we felt a bit lost after parking our bikes near to the bow. The size of the ferry was a bit surprising, but then given Aukra proximity to Molde maybe a lot of people commuted to Molde each day. We had noticed some new housing estates on our way into Aukra which supported our theory. There wasn't much visible economic activity on the island to explain why there were so many houses.
Sometime around half past two the ferry started its crossing and ten minutes later we were heading North up the coast. We were now back on National Cycle Route 1, which formed part of the Øyhopping route as well. In fact I think the Øyhopping route predated the Cycle Route 1 designation as the guide was published before the first overview map showing Cycle Route 1 continuing North of Bergen.
The scenery was not amazingly different to what we had seen but the clouds remained interesting and this small section of forest next to the road caught my eye. For some reason the greens looked very bright and fresh, maybe the effect of a few easy days. After a short while the road started going up and down which wasn't a big surprise, but followed by flatter bits. It was easier going than much of the NSCR South of Bergen and West of Sandefjord.
We'd got off the last ferry at around half past two and by a quarter to four we were ready for a longer break. Having started late meant we had a fair way to go yet and would be cycling relatively late in the day. As luck would have it a place to sit and brew up appeared just before the turning to Hol. It seemed to be part of the local sports field and consisted of several long benches under a small roof. The weather was not as glorious as the day before, although by no means bad. As we stopped it started spitting again so we were glad of the roof. Making the most of the facilities we spent a good forty minutes drinking tea and eating biscuits before we decided we had to push on.
Just a little further up the road was another example of a road side 'scrapyard'. We have seen a few of these in our travels in Norway some large, others like this one quite small. It didn't look like this was a commercial venture and seemed more like someone who couldn't throw things away. Perhaps, sandwiched between the rusting machinery there were some gems to be rescued and collected by someone.
Shortly afterwards we started climbing again and, pulling away from Damae I reached this junction near Malmefjorden where we turned left and joined the main road. Here the road was quite busy, so it was good to have a cycle track separated from the road by barriers. I waited for Damae to join me and then we set off again. About two hundred metres down the road I heard the sound of a car beeping its horn. The passenger waved at me and Damae noticed our tea towel lying on the ground behind us. As she was ahead of me I turned back to pick it up leaving Damae to carry on up the gentle incline at her relaxed pace.
While I was stopped, I noticed a rather large storm brewing in the distance. It looked as though it was going our way, which suggested we were might be in for a good soaking after all. We turned left not long after, between Julset and Sylte, which took us off the RV 663 onto a quieter minor road. As I waited for Damae to catch up it was clear that it was raining heavily in the distance. I spent much of the next half hour watching the storm move and I realised that our paths were going to cross at some point before we got to the campsite.