Foggy Vegstein

Sunday, 24 july. Woke this morning to a chilly feeling and very poor visibility. Fog. Fairly thick. Locals say that when the wind comes inn from the north after a period of sunny weather, then comes the fog .  Check.

I’m on the north side of the bay, looking towards Vegstein, after the fog had lifted enough for a bicycle ride. Sitting on a stone recently vacated by one of the many sheep here.

Well, well, here be internet, so here’s an update.

Arrived here in time for Vegstein day. Lovely sunny day and lots of visitors. Sale of waffles hit a record. One of the greater attractions were the crabs. The local boss and fisherma/sheepfarmer had put out crab pots, and the haul was considerable. Poured into large plastic containers, they were magnets for children of all sizes. Later sport was crabraces, see which one scuttles back quickest into the séaweed when let loose again. Odd behaviour of some, which just sat there and waved their claws. Had to be shown where the water was. Even later, after the visitors had left, the prime crabs, which were really too large for the kids to play with, weren’t they, were ceremoniously cooked in an enormous cauldron and generously handed out. Supperyummmm!

MotorJohan had a busy day and kept the motor-music going for other enthusiasts. Came out frequently for a wipe over the perspiring brow with slightly-oily rag, then back into the fray.

Darts was popular until two of the darts got trodden on.

Josin did not give joy-rides. No wind. Not much interest either. Sailboats are the exception up here, amongst the motorboats of all sizes. Luckily no mega-yachts. Although there was an indecently large sailing mega-yacht in Bodø harbour, impressing us with the height of its mast and the glossy extensiveness of its pale green hull, and taking up lots of space.

In the evening we were entertained by a troubadur, name of By, (forgotten his first), from Elverum, south east in Norway, so of another dialect than hereabouts. Sang mostly own melodies to lyrics of known and lesser-known verse from around his home area. Difficult for this poor foreigner to get the texts, but his guitar-playing was quite exceptional. Even later, a local lady was encouraged to play her “to rader”, a simple accordian which she played also exceptionally and got the public to join in the songs. Many enjoyed the foot-tappin beat.

Tomorrow there is a boat trip out to two of the outlying islands, which are of mainly historical interest, but well worth a visit. Looking at the charts, I wouldn’t like to try and navigate Josin in there! Local folklore has it that when the Gods created this area they kneaded the mountains in their hands before casting them down, but the archipeligo is a result of their rubbing their hands together to clean them.

Back to the bike and the pedalling..

Alls well