We left Stavanger at the crack of noon - it wasn't that we weren't awake, up and about, it's more that we kept getting embroiled in Peter's shopping expeditions. The first one actually didn't include Peter - just John, who had got up at 7am, (worried by the skippering responsibilities of avoiding the deck cleats being ripped off by passing ferries), to loosen the bow warp, and Jim, who had woken in sympathy as the boat jerked around on its moorings. "Where should we go to buy fresh fish?" we asked a pretty girl on her way to work. "Oh, you are going in the right direction for the fish market", she said, "just turn left at the waterfront." However, she didn't say that the market didn't open till 9am, and it was only 7:30. So we had a kop kaffee at the Skansen Bakerei and returned to the boat, fishless.
JK then went back to bed, nursing a hangover from overindulging in Jim's winebox of cheap Bulgarian Cab Sauv. Jim, Tony and Peter went off to recce for a new gas bottle and found themselves across town in a garage convenience store. Tony and Jim found a large blue gas cylinder, put our name on it and left the shop, only to catch a glimpse of Peter, laden with armfuls of food, staggering towards the till. They told him off and made him put it all back on the shelves, but mollified his feelings by allowing him to visit a Spar Minimarket during the return trip, letting him loose with an open wallet. J & T heaved heavy steel cylinders back and fore across Stavanger and then returned to take P out again to the fish market. This was a more controlled expedition and they came back with a big bag of cooked prawns (reke) and also some salmon steaks. By the time JK was disinterred from his bunk, it was almost noon and practically time for the hair of the dog....
Just as well we didn't though, because we set off to the east with a gusty tailwind that soon had us into Lysefjord (at least we think that's where we went - there was so much low cloud and driving rain at times, you couldn't really tell), to have a look at these miracles of Slarty Bartfast, or the glaciers... who knows?
Force 10 gusts assailed Voltair's stern as we motored up the fjord - fortunately we had taken all sail off as we entered - the dinghy flipped over, and then flipped back as it was tossed around by the vicious squalls. We eyeballed where Preikestolen was, above the clouds, and slid in near the spray of the superb waterfall (foss) just beyond it.
This really was a huge waterfall, which was, I think, considerably higher than Niagara. Just have a look at the size of the pine trees at the top. Click this link to see the whole effect: I'm just sorry we cant bring you the spray and the noise as well. [Maximise the new window and click the picture if it doesn't go full screen straightaway. Close the window to return.]
Deciding that this was enough fjords for a first visit, we high-tailed it back out again before we found ourselves plugging 30 knot winds for all 17 miles, and passed a peaceful night at our favourite anchorage at Adnoy.
Today, the cold front had passed and blue skies were at least present for part of the time. We made the most of it, and motored and then sailed to Jorpeland, as Robin had before us, pausing to catch some cod off Fiskevika as we had in June. We taxied to the start of the Preikestolen walk rather more cheaply than our fore-runners had bussed, and set off in altogether more favourable conditions.
We arrived at the fjord around 90 minutes after starting the walk, dry shod and in spasmodic sunshine. The sinking feeling in the pit of the stomach as one approached the void was remarkable: even after enjoying paragliding at altitudes at least as high, JK would not go too near the edge, although he did climb up the cliff a bit to get some better photos and then had to be guided back down again as he had got a bit stuck (only a bit) with a 2000ft drop below him if he got it completely wrong. I'm not going to apologise for the huge size of this photo - it was a huge rock and a immense drop!
Click to enlarge to full screen
[Maximise the new window and click the picture if it doesn't go full screen straightaway. Close the window to return.]
Back down again, we took our first Norwegian beer at the turf-roofed Hytte-Cafe and then taxied back to V for fish pie and more of Peter's shopping extravaganzas - he went to the 'open all hours' for milk for the sauce, but came back with 2 imported cheeses, smoked fish, more cod, grapefruit juice, butter, biscuits, seafood sauce, Mars bars, oh - and some milk! Sent up there again for tonic a while later, he first was back within five minutes, having forgotten his wallet, and then, on the second attempt, found the shop not open all hours at all! Jim has promised to have a word with Diana when he gets home, which may help P resolve this syndrome, but we doubt it will!
Click here for our previous postcard
Back to Voltair index
Until next time
Jim, JK, Peter and Tony