We have been very fortunate with rain: it seems to come mostly at night. On Saturday we left the campground in a light drizzle, stopped for our first moose on the road, and spent the rest of the day in a mist that never quite managed to get organized enough to become real rain.
Arriving in Larvik, we first found a gas station to dump our full tanks and then once again stumbled on a motorhome parking place in the center of town near the water. This one wasn’t quite as pretty as Grimstad’s, but the location was good. It cost $20 to park there overnight, and it provided free electrical hook-ups and (for those who dared) a water hose. For a while we were the only ones there, but by the evening half a dozen others had come in, so between our fellow RVers and the raucous sea gulls, we had quite a bit of company.
Everything in this town was uphill, and at first we could find nothing of interest, not even with the help of a map. But by the afternoon we had been to a couple of museums and found the Thor Heyerdahl statue (facing away from the ocean for some unfathomable reason); later we just walked into a big hotel, found their large-screen tv in the lounge and watched the last hour of the Tour de France. No one else was around. Then it was downhill back to Rover, where we saved even more money by eating in.
We were wondering if the sea gulls would quiet down for the night when, at 10 pm, we were blasted with ‘50s rock and roll from a wedding party in a pavilion on the waterfront about a block away. We knew this would last quite a while and actually contemplated moving to a different location but decided to put up with it. When Elvis finally quit at 11:45 pm, we could hear music and a big bass beat from a club somewhere else. That went on for a long long time and we could feel the beat even wearing our ear plugs. Ah, memories of married student housing at UC-Santa Barbara, lo, these many years--nay, decades--ago. Eventually, though, we and the sea gulls all got a little sleep.