I didn't realise just how bad this day was going to get though. The trail immediately lead me into thickly forested areas that were so dense as to make you feel claustrophobic. This was not the "prepared" footpath I had been lead to believe St Olav's Way was and you had to really have your wits about you to save stumbling on hidden roots or slipping on wet stones. It is also not a route to take ageing relatives along for a Sunday walk. It actually became very oppressive to walk along the path. I had by now taken to listening to my iPod to break the monotony, which was a welcome relief. I started to question the whole idea of undertaking this venture in the first place. It had been intended to be walked in the summer, but circumstances meant I had the opportunity to do it now. When I say "now", the idea was to start it a couple of weeks ago, but personal circumstances made that impossible. Then, all of a sudden, I was committed to doing it. I must again say thank you to the guys at Cotswold for helping out with kit and advice, that has all gone splendidly. What does feel lacking now is my ability! I have NEVER even attempted to do anything like this. The limit of one of my walks is a day walk in Snowdonia! What's worse is that I am doing it alone, so no-one to share the burden of weight with, and have set myself a pace which I don't think is sustainable. Someone said to me, "You're not in a race", but I am really. A race to cross Dovrefjell before bad weather sets in, and a race to get back home to those I love. The prospect of being away from my children for so long is quite daunting. Last, but not least, is the state of my body. My hip is really starting to worry me, and every day I am not so much counting kilometres as minutes to the next medication. My feet are constantly sore and swollen and I am starting to develop blisters. Without going into too much detail, I am also chaffing in some very painful places. I am becoming resigned to not reaching Trondheim, but will take every day a day at a time and see where it takes me.
As for the woods, well, they just carried on and on and on! It didn't help when I inevitably lost my footing and went flying. What did I land on? The only boulder in the immediate vicinity. Which part of my body took the full force? Yep, you guessed it, my right hip. I did take some photos though. These are of a cabin, "hytte", that was made available to pilgrims for free;
Not bad for free! And this is a photo of the forest trail when it widened out!!
It wasn't until late afternoon that I eventually came down out of the woods to catch my first sight of the marvellous Lake Mjøsa.
Again, I had already decided where I would stay for the night, a pilgrim shelter at Epsa, but could not for the life of me find it. Plan B was another business offering accomodation for pilgrims, at a price, but by now, I didn't care. I just wanted to stop and get my boots and rucksack off. I rang the number I had for the place, only to be told they weren't open for business! Aaaargh!! So I had to walk another 6kms to get to a campsite at Tangen, Tangenodden camping. The thought of putting up the tent and being confined to that small space for the evening again just didn't appeal, so I decided instead to rent one of the small hytte. Good choice. I soaked my feet in the cold waters of Mjøsa and allowed them to cool down.
I had a 12 minute long shower, washed my clothes and did what I could for my ailments. A tic check proved negative, thankfully. My left little toe has now disappeared within a blister, which literally exploded when I grabbed the toe to examine it.
But all is not completely bad. I bought some pasta and sauce to make a big, and much needed, meal with a beer to wash it down. I am sprawled out in a cabin to sleep four and I am looking forward to a sound nights sleep. I ate my dinner on the porch of the cabin, looking out over Mjøsa.
It's really not difficult to work out why Norwegians don't go on caravan holidays to the UK.
I'm going to call it a night for now and see what the morning brings.
