Day 20-4. Bud to Vinsternes contd.
The first of the new bridges, the Imarsundbrua, was long and lovely and whilst crossing, I managed to snap a reasonable photo looking down the southern half of the fjord. The second bridge, the Liltsundbrua, was shorter with similar views but made us wonder if the campsite had disappeared when the ferry stopped running. It was clear that the access road to the campsite from the ferry jetty shown on our map didn't exist any more. In the end our worries were unfounded. At a left turn some way after the bridge a new sign told us where the campsite was.
The weather was still changeable as we arrived at the small kiosk of Nothaugen Fiskecamping. Everything looked neat and new and a friendly young man took some money off us. The location was not bad but it was a little on the expensive side at NOK 150. There also seemed to be a small harbour nearby where someone was testing an outboard motor. What the heck, the grass was green and after a slight dither we found a spot next to a table thinking "Ooooo we can cook here tonight and we have hot showers".
Alas the changeable weather forced us to throw our gear quickly into the tent and forsake the charms of a picnic table for the delights of the communal kitchen. Taking our food bags with us we found enough space and equipment to make a meal and there were even some chairs and a table to eat it at. The rain looked a bit like it was set for the evening, not that there was that much to do in Nothaugen in the evening. We guessed we weren't missing too much.
So the high point of the evening was to be a nice long hot shower. Damae went first and returned after a surprisingly short time. Apparently each coin gave three minutes of hot water, about half what we'd grown to expect. Damae had used up two coins and we only had one left and the reception was closed. So I had to be quick tonight. Damae mentioned another oddity which was that her shower cubicle (which was a little on the small side) had a low point where one would expect to find a plug hole and a high point where one would not expect to find a plug hole. However it was as if the plumber had not communicated with the joiner who laid the floor and the plug hole was placed on the high point in the floor.
I though that maybe Damae was in an end of day grump, but started to believe her as soon as I shoehorned myself into the cubicle. There I saw the 'shower tray' part of the floor sans plug hole and accepted my fate. After undressing I set out my flannel and put soap on it before dropping my coin into the timer: every second counted. As the coin dropped, a stream of cold water came out followed twenty seconds later by water that was bearably warm. Ho hum. The remaining two minutes and forty seconds passed with surprising rapidity and I'd just managed to rinse myself off as the flow of water abruptly came to a halt.
I stepped out of the puddle of water, cracking my head on the shower curtain rail for the second time (the ceiling and hence the curtain rail were rather low too) and stood over the plug hole. Some water had escaped from the puddle during my shower but there was still quite a lot in the low part of the floor. Oh well that had been an adventure to finish the day off with and at least, I was clean. Hmmm.
As I left the shower block there was as much water underfoot as there had been in the shower itself. That would explain why this part of the Norwegian coast was so green and luscious in the middle of summer. I dashed across to join Damae in the tent and we chatted for a bit. Looking at the maps I realised that we could reach Trondheim in two days if we pushed on. Damae initially sounded a bit sceptical but after studying the maps agreed it was possible especially as we were going to spend a rest day sightseeing in Trondheim.
Well that was good news to finish a good day's cycling. We were fed, clean and happy and fell asleep to the sound of big summer raindrops falling onto the tent.