Monday June 1st 2015. Vikhammer camping/motel 14 km

Tosca privé

Tosca privé

Tosca’s private place for last night

Filmcamera opladen in café naast kathedraal, terwijl Tosca buiten de wacht houdt

Charging the camera in the cafeteria next to the cathedral, while Tosca is waiting outside

image

Wel toevallig dat die twee stoelpoten precies passen in de gaten in de muur

These two chair legs happen to fit exactly in the holes over my bed

After a long breakfast first filming in front of the cathedral. After all, this is the end of the 640 km. long Olav way, which has been walked by pilgrims over a 1,000 years to Trondheim, the city of the holy King Olav. In the cathedral is a large sign with: the hellige Olav. But that is pure Dutch Maastricht dialect! So possibly Olav was a real Maastricht boy like Maastricht’s first bishop in the 4th century AC, the saint Servatius.
Film battery empty. O.k., then just recharge in the cafeteria next to the cathedral while in the meantime enjoying a coffee and a “basic” piece Ostecake, Käsetorte. Therefore, we had a late start of walking today, but we have only 14 km to go. So time to film. It’s dog’s weather once again. The entire route we walk through urban agglomeration, wearing rain caps, up along the busy road, so I hardly could understand Francien.
2:30 Pm. arriving in Vikhammer, where we book a room in a motel. Cheap, but the tent is still cheaper, says the lad at the reception. With wet backpacks and dripping ponchos, cold fingers and I with wet feet, we exchanged the idea of a luxury tent for a basic motel room with heating (here it’s max. 9 degrees C.) and a shower. We wondered how they managed to get two holes in the wall above the bed. Great coincidence that two legs of the chair, exackly fit in. Photo. What has happened here?
The next few hours were, as usual, covered with figuring out the route and looking for overnight stays. The Olavsroute is over, so now there are no more books with route descriptions, distances, inns.
What a puzzling. I want to head direction Steinkjer, Stikklestad and Grong, but several roads lead that way: one along or across the motorway, one of which I’m afraid that it  might run through inhospitable swampy bogs, where are no night shelters. And so we keep busy figuring out. So it’s not what one thinks, cozy half-days chatting in cafetarias, after a pleasant, warm spring walk. But chill cool, that’s how it’s called, along nice noisy, busy roads, with cold hands and wet feet. Nice, huh. And now looking for typical Norwegian food again: pizza, burger place or hot dogs. We bought cans of spaghetti. Francien recently broke her jaw. That has nothing to do with those chair leg holes above her bed, but therefore she can not bite pizza. For a change spaghetti, something different from pasta, pizza or hamburger or hot dog. I called home. Ain’t no Sunshine when she’s gone, ain’t no warmth When She’s away, When She’s gone it’s for too long, any time she’s away: Bill Whithers. Search on utube! A song that is strong by its simplicity. Wow!

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