July 11-13, 2022

We’re about 30 miles out in the Norwegian Sea and I’m questioning my half-hearted effort to strap the bike down to the car deck of this large ferry. We have another two hours to go before they open the deck to passengers and I can see the results of my being lazy. Hopefully I find the bike upright and where I left it. Worst case, in these rolling waves, it’s fallen either to the left, on top of a Harley, or to the right, on top of a BMW K1600.

The past few days we rode north. The trees are getting smaller and fewer. The hills likewise. But the roads still run along rivers and fjords, and the scenery would otherwise be spectacular, comparable to the Rockies in Colorado, Idaho, and Montana, or the river valleys of Oregon and Washington.

It would be, but we had left the Geiranger area a few days earlier, and now that was our reference point. What should have caused us to stop for photos a few days ago now just brought a glance as we continued on. It reminded me of a post I wrote six years ago, about overhearing two travelers talking about the upcoming end of their travels and how they would handle everyday events now that “Amazing had become the norm”. We had been sucked into that mindset, and needed a reset.

Outside of Surnadal we passed this Norwegian church.

The Arctic Circle tourist center is a bit easier to reach than the spot on the Dalton Highway in Alaska, and there’s an actual building here. Then again, there’s a real road, and communities much further north on the road.

This is the second time we’ve crossed the Arctic Circle in less than a year: last August we crossed with our friend Dave in Alaska.

Added the 2RideTheGlobe sticker to a post near the Arctic Circle marker.

The detour to Lofoten brought a combination of more incredible scenery, tempered by a crush of tourists.

When we arrive in Moskenes and I’m finally able to get down to the car deck to check on the bike, I’m relieved to find everything is just fine. We disembark and head the short 200 meters to our campground. We had a reservation on the 6:45pm ferry, which arrives at 10pm (it never gets dark here, so arriving late means we can still ride in daylight and see to set up camp). We got lucky and although the 3pm ferry was sold out, they had room for us and we arrived just in time to ride straight onto the ship.

Phew. All good on the car deck…the bike is still upright.

On the ferry were four guys from Scotland, on a crazy-fast trip to Nordkapp in something like 16 days round trip. They had these “Short Way Up” stickers on the bikes, an obvious play on the Ewan McGregor/Charlie Boorman “Long Way Round/Down/Up” Series. They also had “Nordkapp Nimrods” stickers on the bikes. We passed them again just south of Alta, which is about 150 miles south of Nordkapp. They had already made it to the top and were headed back.

Also on the ferry was this guy, on a custom Harley. He’s from Spain, but living in Norway for quite a while now. Super nice guy.

I originally met the Harley rider two days earlier north of Geiranger at a gas station, where I had another “Vindu” moment: A guy pulls up on a Harley, with a long ponytail and a black “Rock and Roll” t-shirt. We get to talking and I ask him where he’s going.

“Hammerfest” he says.

I just assumed there was a large heavy metal concert festival going on somewhere in Europe. Two days later we bump into each other on the ferry to Lofoten, and he’s still on his way to Hammerfest. It turns out he’s headed home, to Hammerfest, which is the name of the small town just south of Nordkapp.

Doh.

Arriving to Lofoten a few hours earlier means we can still find a campsite. The Lofoten islands are a heavy tourist destination, and it’s holiday time in Europe. We’re able to find a small patch of grass to pitch our tent. Those arriving on the later ferry have to cram their tents against others, or hike up the hill to find a more private spot.

Just another beautiful camp spot in Norway. Hard to beat.

The main road up through Lofoten is about two hundred miles long, from the southernmost fishing village of Å (pronounced somewhat similar to “oh”) and the northernmost town of Andenes. Several bridges, tunnels, and ferries connect the islands and make it possible to ride from one end to the other in a day. Campgrounds near each end fill up with new arrivals off the ferries as well as those staging to catch the ferry the next morning.

We were advised by many people we met on the road to visit Lofoten. It’s pretty spectacular, with the large green mountains jutting straight up from the sea. It seems like something you’d see in a more tropical area, such as Thailand, or Malaysia. Some of them remind me of Hawaii, with the green valleys between the steep walls. There are even a few sand beaches. Of course we’re above the Arctic Circle, so while it’s not a tropical paradise, we’ve arrived on a day that the weather is 73F and sunny, and there are actually people on the beach and even swimming.

The small fishing village of Å lies at the southern end of Lofoten.

The road through the islands runs mainly along the coastlines, with bridges, ferries, or tunnels connecting them.

A little two-track livens things up, in case the scenery isn’t enough.

Our campsite in Andenes, on the northern end of Lofoten.

It was actually in the low 70s Fahrenheit when we arrived, and people were sitting and playing on the beach, even swimming in the sea. Keep in mind that we are 207 miles above the Arctic Circle at this point.

Later in the evening a storm blew through, the wind shaking the tent for a couple of hours and raining fairly constant. By morning it was 48F as we packed up and headed a few miles up the road to the ferry back to the mainland and on towards Nordkapp.

And to wrap it up, here’s another short video of some of the scenery while riding through Lofoten.

July 15, 2022

Diana and I are not gregarious people. In fact, I only half-jokingly consider myself a bit of a hermit. So when it comes to meeting people, we usually aren’t the ones to just randomly strike up a conversation. That’s where our Texas license plate does all the work for us.

Leaving Lofoten, we pulled to the front of the ferry line with the other motorcycles. We were immediately approached by a number of French bikers on their way to Nordkapp. The conversation always begins with “Are you really from Texas?” and usually leads to “how long have you been traveling?” As always, lots of curiosity about us, but also a chance to learn about them, their travels, their bikes, their lives back home, etc.

And it’s not just motorcyclists. The Texas “number plate”, as they call it here, stands out to everyone. In just the past couple of days, we’ve met a lot of great people, including a woman from Germany traveling with her parents in her camper van, and a newlywed couple on an “extreme honeymoon”.

On the ferry, I’m approached by a gentleman who asks how long we’ve been traveling. He also saw the Texas plate while waiting in line. I realize that we stayed near each other in the campground last night; Gerry, his wife Babs and their dog are traveling in a large MAN 4×4 camper truck. They’re from Switzerland but have traveled all over the world. At the end of our ten minute conversation he hands me his business card and invites us to stay on their farm. I hope to take him up on his offer. He’s another person that in just a few minutes time I can tell I could have a long conversation with, and learn a lot.

That evening we stumble on a roadside parking area next to a lake and with several RVs already camped there. It has a covered area for cooking and nice clean bathrooms. And best of all, it’s free. Not exactly “wild camping”; more like “tame camping”, but I need more of these places to ease Diana into being comfortable with staying “off-grid”. My motto is “Every dollar we save today extends our travels tomorrow.”

As I’m walking up to the cooking area, I hear “Hey Texas!” It’s the woman and her parents in the camper van. Similar to the travelers heading through Patagonia to Ushuaia, there is a stream of people heading for Nordkapp, and we keep crossing paths. We talk for a good twenty minutes or so, and we learn a lot more about each other. Except her name! I can’t believe we didn’t get her name.

We’re now only two days from reaching the top of Europe. It looks like we may have some heavy rain the next night, so we decide to find a cabin, even though it’s out of our budget. We end up with a room instead, which reminds us of the rooms in Alaska on the way to Prudhoe Bay.

A lot like our room in Coldfoot, Alaska, or Deadhorse. But nicer, and $40 instead of $200. And this is the most expensive country in the world!?

Alek and Anna just got married, and called this trip to Nordkapp their “extreme honeymoon”. I like that. They’re originally from Latvia, but have been living in Bergen for some time. Alek gave me some tips on places to visit in Latvia when we pass through.

We’re now only a hundred miles from Nordkapp. The weather in the morning looks great and the road is good. It’s an easy three hour ride to the top of the world.

Getting close…only 88km, or about 55 miles. The trees are gone. It’s just rocky hills and grass; a different scenery than the Alaskan tundra fifty miles from Deadhorse. And still people living here as well.

Most of the tunnels in Norway have these signs when entering. They give the name of the tunnel, its’ length in kilometers, and how high above sea level you are at its peak. This one is different: it’s 212 meters below sea level at the bottom of the tunnel. This one goes under the Barents Sea, crossing to the island where Nordkapp is located.

Just before arriving at Nordkapp, the GPS tells me there’s a 40 minute traffic delay ahead. Really? Odd. Yep. There’s a gate at the entrance. You can park and walk out to the monument for free, but there is a $31 fee if you want to go inside the building, which houses a cafeteria, museum, and gift shop. So, let’s see: you want to charge me $31 just to go into the gift shop so I can spend more money on souvenirs? Somebody has this system all wrong. I have to think they lose more money than they could possibly take in this way.

We parked the bike, walked to the monument, and took some photos. Then I casually strolled (quickly) into the gift shop to buy a sticker. Diana wasn’t so lucky. Security stopped her. Fortunately there isn’t a jail in Nordkapp, or she would probably be there for trying to sneak in and spend money.

End of the road, and the earth, in Europe. Well, technically there are places further north, but this is the “official” marker.

The door to the actual end of the earth.

There are a lot of reindeer wandering around here. The first one we saw was on the side of the road, grazing. He had a bright orange collar and a cow bell. Somebody’s pet, I guess.

This has been the easiest of the four “Most” points I’ve ridden to:

Ushuaia, Argentina, the “fin del mundo” (end of the world) in South America. An easy, mostly paved ride if you’re starting in or coming from Buenos Aires. Less so the way I went, down Ruta 40 for a couple of thousand miles.

Cape Agulhas, South Africa, the southernmost point in Africa. Also a fairly easy ride from Cape Town. But who starts in Cape Town?

Deadhorse, Alaska, generally considered the northernmost road point in North America. 400 miles of dirt and gravel each way (and mud in our case).

And finally:

Number four of the four roads to the ends of the earth. Box checked.
Nordkapp, or the North Cape of Norway. Nice pavement, a real grocery store and gas station (and town) just 50 miles south, and on the day we arrived 73 degrees F and clear skies. We couldn’t have asked for an easier, more scenic ride.

July 18, 2022

We are by no means experts on Nordkapp. We’ve been there, and we were really lucky to have the weather we did when we arrived. Looking back on our ride up through Norway, I thought I would share some observations that might help if someone else happens to find this post and is planning a ride to the top of Europe.

So here’s my list:

1. Don’t overestimate your daily mileage. The maximum speed limit on most of the roads in Norway is 80kph (90 occasionally), and speeding fines are steep. Every time the road enters a town or village, the speed limit drops to 50-60kph. This is very often. And there is no such thing as a straight road in Norway, at least not on the west side where all the fjords and scenery are. Plan on your overall average speed being around 35mph (60kph), including gas stops and short breaks. Don’t plan to do more than 250 miles a day; that’s 7 hours.
2. Layers. The weather changes quickly in Norway. It can be 70F in the afternoon and upper 40s within minutes if a front blows through. Even at 60F, the wind and damp air along the coast and especially in the tunnels can be chilly. Plan on several layers of clothing and adjust to fit the temperature.
3. Use the Norway weather site yr.no and refer to it often.
4. Build at least one extra day into your trip and keep it for between Alta and Skaidi. If the weather looks bad on your planned arrival in Nordkapp, you can wait here a day before heading the last hundred miles or so north. A lot of people we spoke with said that when they arrived at Nordkapp, the clouds were so low and thick that they couldn’t even see the sea. But as I said, the weather changes quickly, and while no forecast is foolproof, especially at these latitudes, yr.no is about as good as it gets. On our trip up, we had rain most nights and early mornings, and sunny skies in the afternoons.
5. Twenty four hour daylight. Plan accordingly in order to get some sleep. At 2am north of the Arctic Circle in July it looks like 3 or 4pm most places.
6. If you have the time and are going all the way to Nordkapp, consider going north through Finland and come down through Norway. This has two advantages: it gets you to Nordkapp quicker, as the road through Finland is straighter and much shorter, and it saves the absolute stunning scenery for last.

Lastly, even if you aren’t a motorcyclist, these tips apply. And if you don’t have the time to make it all the way to Nordkapp, at least go from Bergen through Flåm to Geiranger and Trollstigen. Even on a cruise ship. It’s some of the world’s most stunning scenery.

I’m sure I’ll think of other things later and add to the list.

July 21, 2022

Leaving Norway and entering Finland, the differences are very noticeable immediately. The two countries may share a border, but each has its’ own distinguishing beauty. While Norway has the fjords with the majestic mountains and waterfalls, Finland has much less elevation change. It is almost entirely forest, with small gentle rises of very little height. Riding through the middle of Finland, with all of the lakes and trees, reminded me of the area around Hot Springs, Arkansas, and to a somewhat lesser extent, deep East Texas’ Piney Woods: beautiful lakeshores, sometimes with small summer cabins or even small villages, and thick pine forests. The two lane highways through here look nearly identical to the roads in those places in the States. The only real things that tell you that you are here and not there are the road signs: the names and words that I can’t begin to pronounce (lots of double vowels, like aa, ii, uu…it almost looks Hawaiian sometimes), and the ever-present “Moose Crossing” signs. We’re still on the trail of the elusive moose, and the total score is still Zero.

The kitchen area at our campground in Alta, Norway. This is a bit nicer than most of the others, but similar in concept: you may be in a tent, but you are welcome to use an entire kitchen to prepare your meals. I can’t recall seeing anything close to this in our US travels.

Fully stocked with untensils, pots, pans, dishes, glasses, etc. Sadly, this concept probably wouldn’t work in the States; most of this stuff would be pilfered in a matter of days if not less, including the toaster, kettle, etc. And the cleanliness of these places is hospital-grade as well. People use the equipment, wash it, put it in the dishwasher, and return it to its’ place. Remember, this is a CAMPGROUND, not a hotel or B&B.

I stopped at a roadside rest area to use the restroom, and this sign was attached to the underside of the toilet lid, reminding people not to flush things other than toilet paper. Things like hygiene products, syringes, wedding rings…

Really?? Who has to be reminded to not throw their diamond ring in the toilet?

We left our campground outside of Alta, Norway headed south to the Finland border. Within the first twenty miles, it began raining, and didn’t stop for the rest of the day. We rode through LapLand in the rain, stopping only for fuel, and arrived about 300 kilometers later at our destination for the evening: Harriniva Hotel and Safaris near Muonio. This hotel specializes in winter tours to see the Northern Lights, and does it by dog sled. The place has 365 Husky sled dogs that it houses and trains year round. In the summertime, in order to keep the dogs fit and trained, they pull ATVs instead of sleds.

The Harriniva Husky Lodge.

A result of too little planning, something I am rarely accused of: we arrived on a Saturday night, and Sunday is the only day that Harriniva doesn’t do guided tours of their dogs. So even though we had come six thousand miles to see the Huskies, this is as close as we could get.

Except for this one, that insisted on patting Diana on the head.

From Harriniva, we spent another two days riding, mostly in rain, continuing south and east through Finland, camping in Iisalmi and Joensuu, before eventually arriving in Lappeenranta.

We stopped in Rovaniemi at the Arctic Circle point in Finland, since I forgot to buy an Arctic Circle sticker for the bike in Norway. So this is our third different location to cross the Arctic Circle in less than a year.

It turns out Santa Claus doesn’t live at the North Pole. He actually is from Rovaniemi, in Lapland. For real. Google it.

We found his residence, but it was closed. I think he was doing some Quality Assurance visits at some of his other factories at the time.

We’ve found Google Translate to be handy when grocery shopping. We use it to identify which milk is skimmed, low-fat, whole milk, etc, and which meat is which (Google translated one package of ground beef as “Meat Dough from Norwegian Cow”), as well as to translate the cooking instructions on some of the packages. I have no idea what all the other items are on this aisle of the grocery store, but TexMex is universal, and there are plenty of Old El Paso products on the shelves.

Our campground outside of Iisalmi had a couple of old motorcycles parked around the reception area. No idea why, but it was still kinda cool.

In Joensuu, we arrived the day after a huge 3-day rock concert next door to our campground. There were upwards of 70,000 people in attendance the day before. It apparently poured rain on the last day of the concert, as there was standing water and mud everywhere. We found a small patch of less standing water and pitched our tent, and thus began our introduction to the mosquitos. We had been warned about them — Lukasz from Poland referred to them as “Fast and Furious” — but up until now we had managed to miss them for the most part. But there was no avoiding these aerial attackers. Still, the tent did its’ job of keeping them out, and we managed to get a good night’s sleep.

We awoke to sun for the first time in many days, and it was looking like we might have a day without rain. We even got to ride about twenty miles of nice dirt road through the forest as a shortcut between small two-lane backroads we were taking on our way south. However, true to form, within ten or so miles of our destination, the rain started, and we were once again riding in the rain. Along this eastern side of Finland we were within just a few miles of the Russian border at times.

Just south of Lappeenranta the rain let up briefly and we turned off onto a nice, newly paved road and headed into the forest. Eventually the road turned to dirt and several miles later we turned down a mile-long gravel drive, eventually arriving at our friends Tehri and Harri’s summer house.

We had originally met Harri and Tehri at the campground in Flåm, Norway. They insisted that if we were coming through Finland that we should stay with them. Harri had to return home to work before we arrived, but Tehri and their daughter Aina were waiting to welcome us as we rode up.

Terhi, Aina, and Turo the cat greeted us as we pulled up to their summer cabin.

Harri and family built this beautiful summer home by hand over several years. Now they’re finally getting to enjoy it.

Their summer house is built on land that has been in the family for generations. Terhi’s father was born just up the gravel road from here, and her mother’s childhood home is just a couple of miles away. Her parents built a summer home here a little more than 30 years ago, near a small lake. They also built a sauna, which is almost a requirement in Finland. It seems like everyone has one. Theirs is right on the lake, and we were invited to try it out. The girls went first, Terhi, Aina and Diana stripping naked and sitting in the 80 degree C (175F) steam room. After several minutes of working up a sweat, they emerged onto the dock of the lake and jumped into the 20 degree (68F) water to cool off. They repeated this process three times, before dressing and returning to the house. Then it was my turn to join Terhi’s brother Antti for the ritual.

Terhi and Antti’s parents, Asko and Kaija, on the porch of their summer cabin on the lake.

The sauna at the lake.

Once you hit spontaneous combustion temperatures, you run from the sauna and leap off the end of this dock butt-naked. It’s an experience I won’t forget, and actually look forward to again.

Within a few minutes in the sauna, I was sweating intensely. Then came the real heat: Each time Antti tossed water onto the furnace in the sauna, the steam would bounce off the walls. It felt like a blowtorch on the back of my ears and arms, After a couple of times of this, I had to cry Uncle and run for the lake, which of course felt like it was freezing cold at first. We returned to the sauna — and the lake — twice more. Antti told me I should be thankful that their father didn’t join us, as he relished the tradition of beating you with a switch made of Birch leaves and branches. This apparently makes the heat even more intense.

Okay, I’ll admit it. I’m not that into heat. But it was a great experience, and one I’m glad I didn’t miss.

While Antti and I were enjoying the sauna, Terhi was preparing a traditional Finnish meal for us. We had Särä (slow roasted lamb), boiled potatoes, and fresh Chanterelle mushrooms in a cream sauce with onions. For dessert we had bread cheese with strawberries and cloud berries. It was a fantastic meal, and I’m not ashamed to say I went back for seconds. And thirds. Diana has already researched the recipes and planned for more.

The next morning Tehri again fed us some traditional Finnish breakfast items, including Karelian pies (karjalanpiirakka) with rice pudding filling, and perunarieska, or Finnish potato flatbread smeared with egg butter.

Karjalanpiirakka and perunarieska. Yum.

Turo the Ragdoll cat. He was so cool I wanted to take him with us on the bike.

We really didn’t want to leave, but we had a house-sitting commitment outside Helsinki, about three hours away, and needed to be there by noon.

Salpalinja: The Salpa Line, or Finland’s Latch

Not long after arriving to Tehri’s, she asked if we’d like to see a bunker on her grandmother’s property.

History? Heck yeah!

We jumped in the car and Tehri drove us just a few miles up the road to where her mother was born. Her aunt now has the property, and sure enough, there is a lot of history on the property. Keep in mind that we are approsimately 20 kilometers, or about 13 miles from the border with Russia.

In November of 1939 the Soviet Union invaded Finland in what became known as the Winter War. It lasted just three and a half months, and the Soviet military suffered substantial losses. In March of 1940 Finland and Moscow signed the Moscow Peace Treaty, with Finland ceding 9% of its’ land to the Soviets. Adolf Hitler was encouraged by the weakness of the Soviet forces and in June of 1941 attacked them, starting what became known between Finland and the Soviet Union as the Continuation War. During the interim peace period in 1940-41, Finland built the Salpalinja, or Salpa Line, a 1200 kilometer long series of concrete installations, trenches, anti-tank obstacles, ditches, infantry shelters, and more on the eastern border with Russia.

Sign pointing to the bunker on Terhi’s aunt’s property: “Accomodation for two machine guns and 40 men.”

Walking down into the bunker.

Entering the bunker. Amazingly, after 80 years, the latches on all the doors still slide like new. Terhi said she and her friends played in this bunker as kids. And why not, when it’s right next to your grandma’s house on her property? Better than any home-made fort!

“Accommodation for 40 men” is relative, obviously. I guess it’s a bit like living in a submarine. You get used to it.

This is the machine gun turret, and that is the family barn (red building) and family home (yellow) in the background. Really brings it home, doesn’t it?

A closer look at the machine gun ports.

More than anything, we learned how much we personally don’t know about the nuances of World War II and the other actions that were going on at the time. Now I want to learn much more.

July 25-28, 2022

A quick update to finish up Finland before launching into Estonia:

We spent several days house-sitting in Espoo (pronounced Es-Bo), a suburb of Helsinki, while I did some maintenance on the bike and we caught up on paperwork at home. We had a great little Ragdoll kitten named Luna who was a lot of fun, and a nice apartment next to a new shopping mall, with an easy bus/train connection to downtown Helsinki for a day of sight-seeing.

Taking a break now and then to hang out with some great pets and relax in a nice home helps us recharge for more travel.

Our first stop in Helsinki was the Temppeliaukion Church. The church is built directly into solid rock, so it ends up being mostly below ground. This crowd (mostly cruise ship tourists) was waiting to enter the church when we arrived. Which immediately made it a place I didn’t want to go. If you’ve been following this blog for long, you’ll recall that I had a rule in my former round-the-world trip that if a town had a sushi bar, it was too big for me to visit. I’ve totally blown that rule multiple times already this year.

Next up was the Helsinki Cathedral, built in the mid-1800s as a tribute to Tsar Nicholas I of Russia.

The Cathedral overlooks Senate Square, which holds the statue of the Grand Duke of Finland, Alexander II.

And finally, the Uspenski Cathedral (I’m seeing a trend here…), the center of the Finnish Orthodox faith.

After saying goodbye to Luna, we caught the Viking ferry out of Helsinki for Tallinn, Estonia.

Sitting in line to board the ferry. You can see it in the background: it’s that cruise ship-sized thing.

Here’s the sister ship: yes, that’s a ferry, and yes, that’s a cruise ship. Cabins, disco, bars, restaurants, and a few decks of cars, trucks, buses and bikes.

On the ferry we met a couple from Lappeenranta, Finland on a BMW GS, who were headed into Latvia on a week-long trip. They gave us a couple of good suggestions on places to stay as we headed south. But first we had a couple of days planned in Tallinn.

In Tallinn we had booked an inexpensive apartment within a few minutes’ walk of Old Town. The apartment was the former art studio of Ado Lill, a well-known Estonian artist, and the studio — now AirBnB studio apartment — is now owned by his grandson. The walls had several of Lill’s later erotic works displayed, and more about him and his art in a couple of books sitting on a large pedestal which was still covered in paint droplets. The place has a very cool vibe to it.

This was kind of interesting: we stayed in Apartment 4…

Next door was Apartment 9. Or Apartment 3/1. Not sure.

We walked the short distance to Old Town, and took in the sights, sounds, and some food. It didn’t take long for me to really like Tallinn.

Tallinn has a nice, lively vibe to it, with lots of outdoor cafes and restaurants and a lot of history. And it’s a very clean place as well.

We aren’t vegans, or vegetarians, but the menu at this place just sounded too good not to try. And it was.

Beetroot ravioli with cashew cream cheese and basil pesto. I could’ve eaten a dozen of these.

After dinner we wandered around the corner to DM Baar. Opened in 1998, this place is a monument to the band Depeche Mode. They play only Depeche Mode music and videos full time. Pretty amazing: 24 years strong and still going, based on one band’s music. Not many (if any) places can say that.

We continued our walking tour the next morning, with (what else?) a visit to the Alexander Nevsky Cathedral, Tallinn’s largest Orthodox cupola church.

We passed this little guy on his rounds. This is a robot delivery vehicle. It delivers food, goods, etc right to your door. Seen these in the US lately? We may be walking through thousand-year-old neighborhoods, but there’s nothing old about the tech here.

We passed the Russian Embassy, which was barricaded and had Ukraine flags and lots of anti-Russia and anti-Putin signage. The support for Ukraine and the disgust with Putin is more visible here than anywhere we have been so far, which is understandable, as a former Soviet Socialist Republic that shares a border with Russia. (Note: we’ve seen more of this sentiment since, and will share more in coming posts.)

This was one of the more direct comments, on a signboard in front of a restaurant in Old Town.

Not far from the Russian Embassy is the House of the Blackheads. This organization was founded the 14th century, and consisted of single merchants and ship owners.

And then we rounded the corner, and suddenly we were in Texas. It was more than a little weird to say the least. The Texas Cantina has been operating since 1998, and Herbert, the owner, loves all things Texas. He was just there in April, and goes about once a year. The story we were told was that he came to Texas to visit, and while at a dive bar/restaurant one day he decided that if it could work in Texas, Texas could work in Tallinn. And it has.

The menu is mostly TexMex, with some Dr Pepper and Tito’s Vodka thrown in. This was my burrito, with sauces in the colors of the Mexican flag.

It was really odd to see this “Devil’s Backbone” sign on the wall, as the Devil’s Backbone is literally right down the road from our house.

With Herbert, entrepreneur, independent film producer, musician, all-around cool guy, in his burnt orange Longhorns shirt.

Leaving Tallinn, we headed to the island of Saaremaa for a night of camping. Saaremaa is a large (1,000 square mile) island off the coast of Estonia. It’s also home to the Teesu Nature Reserve.

At the Teesu Nature Reserve, they’ve built three or four of these campsites on Tagalaht Bay. The sites are free and first-come, which wasn’t a problem, as there was only one site taken when we arrived. Each site has a covered table and a wood-burning grill. And a beautiful view from the shore looking out across the bay to the Baltic Sea.

The sites are spaced a good distance apart, allowing for peace and quiet.

There is one pit toilet, and it has features I’ve never seen before: for one, it has astro-turf. And second, it has a styrofoam toilet seat and lid. Doesn’t seem like it would be very durable, but it’s gotta be cheap. This one looked brand new. Then again, the entire place looked brand new. Amazingly nice for the price of free.

And before heading off to Latvia, I’ll leave you with this:

Do the owners of these VW mini-vans just tell people they drive Caddys? You can go from Soccer Mom to Socialite with the same vehicle…as long as nobody sees it.

July 28-30, 2022

As we prepared to leave Saaremaa, we knew we had to backtrack more than 60 miles to get off the island and head south again. Looking at the map, it was just a stone’s throw to Ventspils, Latvia from Kuressaare, Saaremaa, if only there was a ferry. I did some research, and it turns out that there used to be a ferry, but hadn’t been for some time. Looking at the map, there was a ferry between Ventspils and Sweden; Ventspils and Germany; and Ventspils and St Petersburg, Russia. But not Saaremaa. Diana even joked that we could end up getting on the wrong ferry and end up in St Petersburg.

So we rode the long way back and south to Riga, Latvia, and arrived at Two Wheels Hotel, one of the places the Finnish couple on the ferry from Helsinki had suggested.

Unfortunately the hotel was sold out, but as I continued to enquire, the woman at the front desk, who was happy to see people on a motorcycle arrive instead of the more recent car crowd (after all, the place is called Two Wheels Hotel), came up with an idea.

“Well”, she said, “there is a room. but it has no bed. It’s a common room for the guests upstairs, but you could sleep there. Of course you’ll have to use the toilets and shower in the downstairs hall. Follow me, I’ll show it to you.”

And she led us upstairs to the room.

“How much?”, I asked.

“Thirty euros?”

“We’ll take it”, I said. We would end up paying close to that to camp, and it was supposed to rain over the next day or two. Not having to pack up a wet tent was becoming worth a price to me. We had done it way too many times already this trip.

“Are you sure?” She seemed surprised that anyone would want a room with two small love seats, a table with three chairs, and no bed.

“Yes. We have our camping gear. We can sleep on the floor.”

She was so surprised and almost apologetic at our offer to sleep on the floor that she brought us pillows, sheets, blankets, towels, bottles of water, and more.

As she was delivering the towels, who should step out of the room across the hall but Matti and Heli, the couple from the ferry.

Planning our next moves with Matti and Heli from Finland. They were a great source of info for this part of the world.

We ended up in St Petersburg after all! The rooms are all named after places the owner has been. The owner of the hotel, Martins Sils, is a motorcycle traveler himself, and is also responsible for having designed the Latvian portions of the Trans Euro Trail or TET.

Pretty sure this was supposed to say “Staff Only”. Oh well, it was full of stuff. Close enough.

Two Wheels Hotel in Riga. Great place to meet like-minded people and just relax. Good food too.

As usual, we left our mark on the hotel (upper right corner of the door).

In the morning, Matti and Heli left on their BMW headed north toward Pärnu, and we caught the tram into Riga and walked the town.

St. Peter’s Church in Riga

Riga is a great town to just walk around and admire the architecture.

The House of the Blackheads in Riga. Impressive building.

This small tree marks the location of the first decorated Christmas tree in the world, decorated by the Blackheads and then set on fire. However, the claim is that it is the first “written record” of a decorated Christmas tree, in 1510. Tallinn, Estonia says that the Blackheads there erected a Christmas tree on Town Hall Square in 1441 (but it doesn’t say it was decorated with anything). Germany also claims that they started the tradition of a decorated Christmas tree inside homes in the 16th century. So, it seems a bit contested. Nevertheless, it’s clear that the Blackheads were not only instrumental in pushing the idea of Christmas trees, but they were quite the party people as well. Some of their Christmas parties lasted for up to three weeks.

The Freedom Monument. This was built to honor the soldiers who died during the Latvian War of Independence in 1918-1920. Amazingly, it survived threats of Soviet demolition throughout the Soviet occupation and annexation, and continued to be a social inspiration for Latvians, who eventually again gained independence in 1990.

Beautiful park next to the Freedom Monument.

Albert Street. Riga has the highest concentration of Art Nouveau architecture of anywhere in the world.

In front of the library.

The Cat House. Note the tops of the two turrets.

The legend is that the owner of the building had the two angry cats with their tails raised placed atop the building with their back sides facing across the street at the Great Guild, in retribution for the tradesman group denying him entrance into the Guild. After a lawsuit was initiated, the cats were later turned facing the building.

The Town Musicians of Bremen, a statue based on the Grimm Brothers fairytale, and depicting a rooster standing atop a cat standing atop a dog standing atop a donkey.

I had no idea they had armadillos in Latvia, much less giant ones.

When we returned to the Two Wheels hotel, it had been “invaded” by about ten guys on sport bikes, all bearing Finland license plates, so they were obviously doing some long distance touring on these bikes, which is always impressive to me. Then I noticed a sticker on one of the bikes, with a picture of a Honda Gold Wing with a slash through it, and the slogan “No F*^!ing Touring”. I had to laugh. These guys were hardcore.

A bit later, I walked down to my bike and they were checking out the Texas license plate. We got to talking, and I told them they were my heroes for riding supersport bikes long distance. They thought we were their heroes for riding as far as we had. We had a great time swapping some stories, I handed out some of our 2RideTheGlobe stickers, and they put one of their NFT stickers on the Tenere’s panniers.

NSFW…NFT…whatever! These guys were a riot. They’ve been getting together every year for thirteen years for a weeklong ride. That’s pretty cool.

Later that night, I decided that we would stay one more day in Riga. We had originally planned to ride just about fifty miles south the next morning and camp, but the weather forecast wasn’t looking good, and we had a roof here, so I paid another thirty bucks and we slept in.

While sifting through my emails the next day, a new email popped up. A former colleague and friend from Yamaha and her husband had both retired in 2010, and they were traveling around Europe. We had emailed back and forth a couple of times in the past three months, but we were always in different parts of Europe, and it didn’t look like we would cross paths. Today she reached out to ask about a place we stayed at in Dubrovnik, Croatia, and to see where we were; she said they were in Riga, Latvia.

Wow. Random. What are the chances? Within a few hours, we were having dinner in Old Town. I hadn’t seen Madeleine or Scott in eight years, and they had never met Diana. It was great to catch up.

Totally random meet-up thousands of miles from home. Hard to believe, but great to see them again.

It will be hard to beat the story of bumping into an old friend in Riga, but we still have time to try to best that one.

July 31 – August 2, 2022

Did you know that at one time, the world’s second smallest country existed inside Lithuania? Me neither.

Did you know that since 1997 there is an independent Republic in Lithuania that measures only 148 acres and has seven thousand inhabitants? Again, me neither. Part of the fun of traveling the way we do is learning about these places.

We left Riga, Latvia on the 31st of July, on a winding route towards Vilnius, Lithuania. Our first stop was just across the Lithuanian border, in the small village of Zagaré, to take a photo of the most photographed house in Zagaré.

The “Pan House” started out in spite: the owner of one half of this duplex wanted to remodel its’ interior, but his neighbor had to agree, and refused. However, the neighbor had no say over the outside of this half of the house, so the owner started attaching found objects to the walls, roof, anywhere he could. No word on the neighbors’ reaction.

Next stop was a bit further south outside the town of Šiauliai.

Without thinking, we arrived at the Hill of Crosses on a Sunday morning. I expected to ride up and find two or three cars there and a few families. Nope. Hundreds of cars, a live TV broadcast crew, a live band, and a full church service was going on at an outdoor chapel in the field at the bottom of the hill.

This major Catholic pilgrimage site has well over 100,000 crosses of all sizes. Many have individual or family names on them, while some have military connections from many different countries (most refer to Baltic Air Policing NATO forces).

While Lithuania was part of the Soviet Union, the Soviets bulldozed the site at least three times, and even considered placing a dam in the nearby river in order to flood the hill to prevent people from putting crosses on it.

We eventually headed to Vilnius, but about twenty miles before we arrived, lo and behold, it started raining, AGAIN. And it rained steadily the entire trip in, on a polished asphalt highway with large “slippery when wet” signs. And they weren’t kidding.

Once we were in Vilnius, our Garmin GPS decided to entertain us (in the rain) by leading us down dead-end streets one after another. Eventually I gave in and rode between some concrete stanchions that were intended to prevent cars from crossing a pedestrian zone. Garmin then told us we were going the Wrong Way! on a One Way Street! Which was actually a two-way street, as the sign directly in front of us announced. Despite the GPS’s best attempts, we arrived at the AirBnB apartment and dragged our wet luggage inside.

The next day still looked dark and rainy, but the rain stopped long enough for us to wander around town.

Can’t pass up a photo of a church. Except there seem to be dozens of these churches in Vilnius, if not more. Anyway, here’s St Anne’s.

A sign in the Republic of Uzupis. This neighborhood on the river declared its independence as a Republic in 1997, and they celebrate Uzupis Day on April 1st of each year (coincidence? Probably not). Of the 7,000 residents, about 1,000 are artists.

Uzupis has its’ own Constitution, and it is posted on a wall in 23 different languages. And as you would expect from a bohemian artist republic, it is a bit odd.

Here’s the English version. It’s kind of hard to read due to the reflection, so if you want to read all 41 items, it’s on Wikipedia.

Some of the street art in Uzupis.

Not far from Uzupis but in Vilnius, we stumbled on this bust of Frank Zappa on a pedestal in a parking lot.

Frank Zappa is not Lithuanian. As far as anyone knows, he never went to Lithuania. But apparently he has a very rabid fan base here, though it may be a fan base of one for all I know.

We had to try some of the local food, so we started with Saltibarsciai, or Lithuanian Pink Soup, made from beetroots, cold kefir (a thin yogurt drink), fresh dill, cucumber, and a hardboiled egg. It’s actually way better than you would think!

Next up was cheese ice cream. Yup. Kinda tastes like cheesecake, but really cold.

At the end of our time in Vilnius, we headed south again, with a couple more stops before crossing the border into Poland.

On our way out of Vilnius we saw this enormous banner on top of a large building. No explanation necessary.

First up was a quick trip to Trakai Castle, just outside of Vilnius. The castle was built in the mid 1300s, and completed in the 1400s. It fell into disrepair over the centuries, but was restored in the 1950s and 60s, against resistance from Soviet authorities. Today it’s a major tourist attraction.

Next up was a detour to the middle of nowhere. In an area of nothing but farmland lies the remains of the Republic of Paulava, or Pavlov Republic.

In 1767, a Polish priest bought the Merkine estate (approximately 7500 acres) and in 1769 he turned it into a micro-republic with its’ own military, currency, flag, coat of arms, and himself as president. He abolished serfdom — the common practice in the countries surrounding his republic — and replaced it with land rent. He also created a mandatory education system for all. A total of about 800 people lived in Paulava, and it lasted for about 25 years, until the Kosciusko Uprising caused its’ fall. At the time, it was considered the second smallest country in the world.

Our last stop in Lithuania was in Grutas, just a few miles from the border with Belarus. Here is a park full of Soviet-era statues. Referred to by some as “Stalin World”, it contains over 80 of these large statues, which would have been demolished but for the efforts of one man to bring them to this location.

Oh yeah, and a few llamas too. We didn’t actually go into Stalin World (not the official name), as it would have cost about $25, which seemed a bit steep to see a bunch of statues of people who, aside from Lenin or Stalin, we had no idea who they were (not to mention any political opinions). So we ate lunch on a picnic table just outside the park, watched a few llamas, and rode away into Poland.

August 2, 2022

I had hoped to ride some of the Trans Euro Trail in Poland, but unfortunately our route and the Trail were headed in opposite directions. We’ll definitely have to come back to Poland (for a lot of reasons), as our time this trip was limited.

This was my second time to Poland, and Diana’s first. Last time I entered from Germany and spent most of my time in the southwest area of Poland, in Lower Silesia, visiting friends I had met in the US. This time we also were headed to visit them, but we had to traverse the breadth of Poland to get there, so we took a roundabout way in order to see some other sights.

We didn’t have a plan for our first night in Poland as we were simply trying to cover ground to get to the area around Krakow to begin our sight-seeing. Poland is a large country, and it was going to take us a couple of days to head that way. I searched Google for “campground” and came up with a place in Augustów that advertised itself as a campground and RV park with cabins. Perfect. Diana emailed them, asking if they had a cabin available, as it looked like we might get more rain, and we were finding that Poland fit our budget better than Norway and Finland when it came to indoor lodging. The response came back quickly: “Yes, we have rooms available for the week.” So we headed in that direction.

When we arrived in Augustów, the GPS directed us into a subdivision on the lake. The area looked to be more of a summer resort town, and the subdivision was fairly small lots with nice homes. It didn’t quite seem like the place for an RV park. I was even more confused when we pulled up in front of a large house. We got off the bike and I walked around the house. In the back, which faced the lake, it became clear why they had rooms available “for the week”. This place was a children’s summer camp. We appeared to be the oldest guests, by about four decades. Why this place is listed as an RV park and cabins is beyond me, but it definitely wasn’t what we were looking for.

I decided that since the prices seemed reasonable for hotels in the area, that we would try again a bit further down the road. This time I found a nice looking hotel, about an hour away and a bit off the main road in the small town of Kolno. We jumped back on the main highway and continued on. About twenty miles later, the freeway ended. As in it hadn’t been built yet, and there was no road going that direction. Of course our GPS told us to ignore those facts and continue straight ahead at 90kph into nothingness, the map on the screen showing a nice freeway with a cloverleaf exit many miles ahead that would take us to Kolno.

Nope. Nothing but cornfields and cows. I took the last exit and came to a crossroads. It looked to me that we could head back about six miles and take an earlier exit that would take us the back way into Kolno. So we turned around and got back on the freeway heading north back from where we came. For the next six miles the GPS continued to scream at me to make a U-turn and continue into the non-existent section of the freeway.

When I arrived at the earlier exit on the map, there was, of course, no exit. There was definitely a bridge over our heads with the road to Kolno, but no way to get there. We continued back-tracking on the freeway until we reached an actual exit, which was another four miles. At that point I turned west and navigated by the seat of my pants until we were able to connect to a small rural road that took us to Kolno.

Have I mentioned that Garmin’s European Maps suck? Besides this little episode of displaying future hopeful roads that don’t really exist, throughout Europe Garmin’s maps have shown us incorrect speed limits about eighty to ninety percent of the time (in the direction that would have gotten us speeding tickets) and usually it’s off by between twenty and thirty kilometers per hour. Although occasionally it will attempt to make up for it by telling me that the speed limit on a freeway is 40kph (24mph) when in reality it is 130kph (81mph).

When we finally arrived at the Dwor Rozinski hotel, it was just one more thing that left me scratching my head today: on the outskirts of this small rural community was this beautiful hotel.

Built by a private individual as a fairly lavish wedding venue. We arrived in between weddings, and there were maybe six other guests, mostly traveling businessmen.

The room, with a full breakfast buffet included, was 240 Zlotys, or about $53.

That evening we had a great dinner in the hotel restaurant. This is my Old Polish Pig Knuckle. Huge. Very tender, melt-in-your-mouth pork. Diana had chicken breast with Chanterelle mushrooms and potatoes, and for dessert we had ice cream with berries. We also had a couple of alcoholic drinks. The total bill was $24, which is about the price of one hamburger in Norway.

August 4, 2022

Zalipie has been on my “must-see” list for several years. Everyone talks about the “painted houses”, and the place is a very famous tourist attraction in Poland. It is sometimes referred to as “The Most Beautiful Village in Poland”. So we had set aside most of a day to wander the town and admire the homes.

It turns out, Zalipie is much smaller than I expected. It is in a very rural location (think about driving to the middle of Nebraska to a small farm community). There are no restaurants, stores, or much of anything else in Zalipie, save for the painted houses and the museum celebrating the painted houses. And the one trailer selling ice cream and coffee to tourists.

There are about twenty painted houses in Zalipie, and as expected in a rural farming community, they are spread out, so riding a small loop around the area will cover most of them in about fifteen minutes. But if you really want to take time to study the beautiful artwork, and perhaps even get a tour inside a painted home from a resident, you might need to set aside a couple of hours in Zalipie.

The houses are painted inside and out with floral motifs.

The Polish Folk Art tradition of painting houses is said to have started before homes had chimneys. In order to cover the soot-stained walls inside, the women of the homes used a lime white-wash to paint the interior walls before important religious celebrations. It seems to have spread from there, and some homes have not only the interior and exterior walls painted, but the barn, doghouse, well, and any other surface that might attract artwork.

From Zalipie, we continued south towards Zakopane, another famous tourist town.

August 5, 2022

In addition to Zalipie, I had heard a great deal about Zakopane as a town that attracted tourists, so of course I put it on my list. The day before we headed there, I got the laptop out to make a list of things to see in Zakopane, and I encouraged Diana to do the same.

It didn’t take long to realize that we were both having trouble making a list. Zakopane is kind of at the “entrance” to the Tatra Mountains, so it is in a beautiful setting, as the forests are building as you get closer to the mountains, and the smaller foothills make for some great hiking trails and ski areas and other winter recreation. It is easily accessed from Krakow, so Zakopane is a winter destination for snow recreation as well as a summer destination for mountain hiking. The mountains create a natural border between Poland and Slovakia. The tallest peak on the Polish side is Rysy, at 2499 meters (8200 feet), which is just south of Zakopane.

Zakopane has a lot of “chalet architecture” making it look even more like the winter resort that it is, and even on a weekday it was crawling with tourists. We continued past town and deeper into the Tatras, into Slovakia and along the southern side of the Tatra mountains, passing through several more resort villages that were jam-packed with tourists, mostly enjoying the hiking and bicycle trails in the area, before looping back up into Poland and on to our hotel for the evening.

Sadly we didn’t take many photos. I think we were both still suffering from Norway overload, and our minds were unfairly comparing the scenery to Norway. It seems like the natural beauty of Norway has left a huge impression on us — more than anywhere else either of us have traveled — and hopefully the longer we are away from Norway, the more fairly we will be able to appreciate other places. We both felt guilty at the end of this day when we realized how much natural beauty we had ridden through, yet how little we had documented it.

So here’s a photo and a short unedited video from our day in the Tatra Mountains.

Looking across the cornfields to the mountains.