For the past eight years, my August ritual has been to head north, only once disrupted by the shadow of COVID. I couldn't help but envy the Norwegian “brothers of the rod” who found solace in the rivers undisturbed by foreign intrusion. As the pandemic unfolded, their reports painted a picture of serene bliss that I yearned for.
But this journey, after a summer marked by personal loss, held a different significance due to deep personal lose. Norway in 2023 wasn't just another fishing trip; it was a pilgrimage of the soul. Each cast of the line would carry with it a weight of emotions, an attempt to find solace and peace in the familiar embrace of the north as summer waned.
The route was familiar, meticulously planned through Germany and Denmark, with reservations secured at the cozy inn awaiting our arrival. Loaded into the Land Rover, we embarked on the journey northward. The landscape unfolded like the pages of old travelogues, each turn of the wheel echoing the tales of adventurers before me.
The rhythmic hum of the engine became a comforting companion, setting the pace for our northward odyssey. Long stretches of road meandered through rolling hills, where fields bathed in golden sunlight whispered secrets of the passing summer. Cornfields swayed gently in the breeze, a farewell dance to warmer days, while the stoic German pines cast their elongated shadows over the highways.
With each kilometre conquered, a sense of liberation mingled with anticipation, as if the road itself held the key to unlocking new chapters of my journey. And amidst this picturesque voyage, there lingered an intimacy—a silent communion between traveler and terrain—as if the very landscape conspired to guide me toward the enchanting shores of Denmark's northern tip, where the sea beckoned with promises of the northern shores. Before long, the ferry awaited, ready to carry me further into the embrace of the north.
Arriving at the inn under the shroud of darkness, we found the keys thoughtfully left in the door by the innkeeper. With weary bodies but eager hearts, we unloaded our belongings, seeking refuge within the cozy confines for a well-deserved rest after the arduous journey. The night enveloped us in its embrace, offering solace and respite from the road.
As dawn broke, casting a soft glow upon the world, we awoke refreshed and invigorated. A hearty breakfast awaited, fuelling our spirits for the adventures that lay ahead. With the land rover laden once more, we set our sights on the ferry, eager to embark on our northward journey. This year, our route was reversed, a deviation from tradition necessitated by a prized reservation along the Mandalselva. Yet, the change held no sway over my excitement.
The crossing proved uneventful, the weather cloaked in a veil of damp mist, typical of Norway's unpredictable temperament. As the ferry approached the shore, Norway emerged from the rain clouds, its rugged beauty unfurling before us. Having experienced the country in rain, cloud, sun, and snow, I welcomed the familiar embrace, feeling my soul stir with a newfound sense of tranquility.
Watching as fellow travellers ready to embarked on their return journey, I couldn't help but ponder the stories they carried within them. What adventures had they embarked upon, and where were they bound next? The allure of Norway's enchanting landscapes and culture undoubtedly left an indelible mark upon their souls, as it had on mine.
Our turn to embark arrived, and with a rumble of the Land Rover's engine, we descended the metal ramp, tracing the path of the newly constructed motorway that had taken shape over the years towards Mandal. As the journey continued, anticipation danced in the air, mingling with the whispers of adventure that awaited us beyond the horizon.
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