Rik and Adam came to visit and ski and it was just fantastic!! We travelled 280 km east of Bergen to Hemsedal... a weekend that is predictable to the hour but is thoroughly enjoyable every second every time. Hemsedal is one of Scandanavias largest ski resorts and is accessible from all surrounding areas. To put it into some perpective, there are 43km of slopes, 810m of vertical drop, 49 slopes and 22 lifts. One of the great things is the long ski season - from mid November through to the end of April.
After a long trip via Amsterdam the boys arrive at Bergen Flesland at 5pm, just in time for me to finish work and pick them up. The car is already packed with skiis and food so we just throw their bags in boot, pick up John and head straight on the road. With a speed limit of 80km the journey takes a solid 4 hours with no stops but with a kebab break in Voss we take a little longer. First timers from the UK always marvel at the cost of everything and 30 pounds equivalent for 4 kebabs does not go unnoticed.
Saturday involves a full day skiing followed by a night in Hemsedal Cafe. This involves being pushed around by lots of drunk Norwegians who are jumping around the cafe to Rage against the Machine and throwing beer everywhere. One thing I have learnt with age and 'Cafe Hemsedal' experience is that it is more fun staying relatively sober as observing the locals is far too entertaining to be missed. The atmosphere is super charged and in any other European town fighting would have broken out hours ago but not in Norway. The next stop is Peppes Pizza.
Sunday usually sets of with a sluggish start (occasionally with someone losing their car keys) before another day skiing. The drive back to Bergen is like funeral procession of cars. The key is to avoid being caught my speed control who will fine you 300 pounds for travelling only 5km/hr over the limit. If you're lucky then a friend further down the line will text you back with the location of the police.
The boys were booked on the red eye to Amsterdam on Monday morning so a gruelling 4.30pm wakeup lay infront of us. We left Sotra in good time for the airport and we rocked up outside the terminal kl 05.35. The bags were unloaded from the car and Adam casually told me he had left his rucksack at the house that contained some charger leads, 'nothing to worry about' he said, just bring them back when you come home next. Then the reality of the situation unfolded... in front pocket of the rucksack was Adams passport. Eek.
Nothing like an adreneline rush at 05.45 am to get you going in the morning.
After a long trip via Amsterdam the boys arrive at Bergen Flesland at 5pm, just in time for me to finish work and pick them up. The car is already packed with skiis and food so we just throw their bags in boot, pick up John and head straight on the road. With a speed limit of 80km the journey takes a solid 4 hours with no stops but with a kebab break in Voss we take a little longer. First timers from the UK always marvel at the cost of everything and 30 pounds equivalent for 4 kebabs does not go unnoticed.
Saturday involves a full day skiing followed by a night in Hemsedal Cafe. This involves being pushed around by lots of drunk Norwegians who are jumping around the cafe to Rage against the Machine and throwing beer everywhere. One thing I have learnt with age and 'Cafe Hemsedal' experience is that it is more fun staying relatively sober as observing the locals is far too entertaining to be missed. The atmosphere is super charged and in any other European town fighting would have broken out hours ago but not in Norway. The next stop is Peppes Pizza.
Sunday usually sets of with a sluggish start (occasionally with someone losing their car keys) before another day skiing. The drive back to Bergen is like funeral procession of cars. The key is to avoid being caught my speed control who will fine you 300 pounds for travelling only 5km/hr over the limit. If you're lucky then a friend further down the line will text you back with the location of the police.
The boys were booked on the red eye to Amsterdam on Monday morning so a gruelling 4.30pm wakeup lay infront of us. We left Sotra in good time for the airport and we rocked up outside the terminal kl 05.35. The bags were unloaded from the car and Adam casually told me he had left his rucksack at the house that contained some charger leads, 'nothing to worry about' he said, just bring them back when you come home next. Then the reality of the situation unfolded... in front pocket of the rucksack was Adams passport. Eek.
Nothing like an adreneline rush at 05.45 am to get you going in the morning.
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