June 16

    Trondheim to Kristiansund. We are headed for the west coast and then south.  Kristiansund is a fairly large port city situated on three islands connected by impressive bridges and expensive tunnels (there’s a surprise). We have learned that motorhomes of 6 meters is the limit for the low tolls; we are 7.6, so we pay what the big trucks pay. We took our first ferry where the E39 ends at the water’s edge and continues on the other side of a 20-minute, $45 ride. By accident, we timed our arrival at the queue perfectly and waited no more than 15 minutes for the ferry. Everyone drove on and it left immediately: the toll was collected on the ferry. There were a couple other motorhomes and about 15 cars on our trip, with room for a least twice that many.

    We headed to the city and to the campground just above it. Then we walked down to the active harbor where one of the huge Hurtigruten ferries was just arriving, with a band playing on one of its decks and hundreds of passengers taking in the view of the city. But apart from that, Kristiansund was pretty closed up at 5 pm on this Friday night, so we made our way back to the campground.

    When we write “Friday night,” of course we don’t really mean “night.” The sun dipped below the horizon around 10:45 pm, after which the sky remained twilight all night long. Some evenings we will be reading and suddenly discover that it is well past our bedtime. And, of course, if we wake up at 3 or 4 am,  the sun will be shining already. Rover’s day/night shades are definitely not of room-darkening quality.

    Because we were parked right next to a water spigot in the campground, Susan gave Rover a one-pail-of-water bath, and when we filled our fresh water tank she got a quick rinse (Rover, that is).  Generally, washing motorhomes is forbidden, but we did it anyway. Worse yet, this bath required David’s sacrifice of a 23-year-old RAGBRAI t-shirt.

    Then we took off for the five mile tunnel under the fjord and headed south to the Atlantic Road and its seven bridges. It proved to be well traveled and not at all intimidating. Because we had not been able to get a picture of Rover in front of the Eiffel Tower or at Buckingham Palace, Susan was determined to get one of her (once again, that’s Rover) on the iconic bridge. Along with many others, we stopped at a pull-over spot and then David drove over the bridge to the next turn-around while Susan took pictures. Then he actually returned for her (!) and we continued south.

    The roads have been good and the traffic light.  This was a fairly short day of driving, ending up in Molde at the best campground yet. We are right on the Moldefjord, looking out at the mountains where we are headed next.