Where’s Bertie? He's in one of the free-for-24hr motorhome spaces in the official parking area in Trondheim, which is surprising as we weren't planning to return to the city.
As I ran some pretty, but violently undulating, forest tracks early this morning, it occurred to me (perhaps because of the pong) that I should have done more laundry yesterday. If I had included the sheets and towels, not to mention my running gear and various other forgotten items whilst I had the facility available, then everything would have been clean and we shouldn't then need to seek out laundry facilities for another three weeks.
Back at Bertie, Mick was dressed to run, but I soon put him off with my description of the lumpiness of the local trails and he was amenable to my suggestion that we go back to Trondheim, where he could run the riverside paths and I could do more laundry before we made tracks towards Hell and beyond.
Following SatNav's directions (yesterday I navigated) annoyingly took us unnecessarily through a toll, but more notably it included a road of speed humps that weren't just unmarked but positively camouflaged. Even in a car I wouldn't fancy hitting them at the speed limit of 40km/h. We proceeded with utmost caution.
"Shall we even try the motorhome parking?" I asked Mick, and he thought it worthwhile. Seeing two vans just leaving as we approached, there was slight optimism. Seeing two vans had just manoeuvred into spaces, that optimism waned, but only for the two seconds it took me to spot the one empty space on the back row, facing the river*. Pulling into it, our plans changed again; we are allowed to park here for 24hr, so we will.
Mick went for a run. We did laundry, taking a couple of walks out whilst the machines did their work. A foray into a supermarket had us gasping at many of the prices (£45 for a small fillet steak!, various veg 4 times the price in the UK), so we couldn't believe the signage in front of the bakery pick'n'mix counter that said we could have any 3 items for 34NOK (£3.20ish). That was lunch sorted:
Cheaper than Greggs and much superior in quality
It was 3pm before we sat down for lunch and then somehow another couple of hours had escaped us before I declared an intention to go out and look at the old town, the fort and the royal palace (I'd been reading the guidebook over lunch). After an initial reluctance to move, Mick opted to come along, but I fear that was something he soon regretted. Rain started the moment we stepped outside and five minutes later it became heavy.
My desire to see these bits of Trondheim was greater than my desire to stay dry, so on we went, over the old bridge with its view of the old riverside buildings...
...and through the old town, omitting my intended detour to the fort in view of how wet our jeans were getting (should have picked up the waterproof overtrousers; at least we had jackets today).
Just as the jeans were becoming uncomfortably wet, a supermarket appeared before us, representing shelter. So long was spent examining their full range (and prices - cooked chicken is good value) that I'm sure security must have been watching us.
The fun one can have in a foreign supermarket when waiting out the rain.
By the time we stepped back outside, we were drier and the rain had stopped. Onwards to the palace we went, which sits in the middle of the city, on an otherwise ordinary street, within touching distance of passing pedestrians:
We got back to Bertie before the rain returned, happy that we have now seen much more of this city than we expected when we left yesterday afternoon.
*It seems that 8.30am is the best time to hit this place if you want a slot in the motorhome parking. Or maybe that was just today.
As I ran some pretty, but violently undulating, forest tracks early this morning, it occurred to me (perhaps because of the pong) that I should have done more laundry yesterday. If I had included the sheets and towels, not to mention my running gear and various other forgotten items whilst I had the facility available, then everything would have been clean and we shouldn't then need to seek out laundry facilities for another three weeks.
Back at Bertie, Mick was dressed to run, but I soon put him off with my description of the lumpiness of the local trails and he was amenable to my suggestion that we go back to Trondheim, where he could run the riverside paths and I could do more laundry before we made tracks towards Hell and beyond.
Following SatNav's directions (yesterday I navigated) annoyingly took us unnecessarily through a toll, but more notably it included a road of speed humps that weren't just unmarked but positively camouflaged. Even in a car I wouldn't fancy hitting them at the speed limit of 40km/h. We proceeded with utmost caution.
"Shall we even try the motorhome parking?" I asked Mick, and he thought it worthwhile. Seeing two vans just leaving as we approached, there was slight optimism. Seeing two vans had just manoeuvred into spaces, that optimism waned, but only for the two seconds it took me to spot the one empty space on the back row, facing the river*. Pulling into it, our plans changed again; we are allowed to park here for 24hr, so we will.
Mick went for a run. We did laundry, taking a couple of walks out whilst the machines did their work. A foray into a supermarket had us gasping at many of the prices (£45 for a small fillet steak!, various veg 4 times the price in the UK), so we couldn't believe the signage in front of the bakery pick'n'mix counter that said we could have any 3 items for 34NOK (£3.20ish). That was lunch sorted:
Cheaper than Greggs and much superior in quality
It was 3pm before we sat down for lunch and then somehow another couple of hours had escaped us before I declared an intention to go out and look at the old town, the fort and the royal palace (I'd been reading the guidebook over lunch). After an initial reluctance to move, Mick opted to come along, but I fear that was something he soon regretted. Rain started the moment we stepped outside and five minutes later it became heavy.
My desire to see these bits of Trondheim was greater than my desire to stay dry, so on we went, over the old bridge with its view of the old riverside buildings...
...and through the old town, omitting my intended detour to the fort in view of how wet our jeans were getting (should have picked up the waterproof overtrousers; at least we had jackets today).
Just as the jeans were becoming uncomfortably wet, a supermarket appeared before us, representing shelter. So long was spent examining their full range (and prices - cooked chicken is good value) that I'm sure security must have been watching us.
The fun one can have in a foreign supermarket when waiting out the rain.
By the time we stepped back outside, we were drier and the rain had stopped. Onwards to the palace we went, which sits in the middle of the city, on an otherwise ordinary street, within touching distance of passing pedestrians:
We got back to Bertie before the rain returned, happy that we have now seen much more of this city than we expected when we left yesterday afternoon.
*It seems that 8.30am is the best time to hit this place if you want a slot in the motorhome parking. Or maybe that was just today.
Loving it! Just for a giggle, here's proof that I have indeed been to Hell and Back . . .
ReplyDeletehttp://www.simprimstudio.com/Hell_and_Back.jpg