Going abroad
After the Test Walk
I had quite a bit of trouble with blisters and pain in my right calf during the test walk. The pain didn't disappear once the walk was over, and the calf was rather swollen, red and warm.
After a few days I tried an online chat service with a doctor. The advice was basically to take it easy and contact a doctor if things didn't improve. After a week my patience had run out, and I booked an appointment.
Fortunately, I got a doctor who took his time, seemed interested, and knew what he was doing. He concluded that it was a kind of inflammation in the calf, related to the joints. He thought it might clear up on its own, but that there was a good chance it would return. As he had experience with similar cases, he could immediately recommend a medication. I could use it long-term, at least as long as I wanted to continue doing long walks.
He also suggested I should try shoes with more cushioning. When I mentioned that I weighed little and have always used light shoes with little cushioning, he smiled and said, "You haven't always been 71 either, have you?" So I bought myself new shoes.
The doctor told me that the medication I'd been given is used to treat arthritis. For many years I've had a bit of trouble with this in a few fingers, and I noticed a marked improvement within just a few days. You could call that a positive side effect.
About three weeks after abandoning the Test Walk, I was ready to try again. This time I was …
Heading Abroad
Walking across national borders has always fascinated me, and I've done it a couple of times on previous holidays. But walking from home and across the border into the neighbouring country was something I'd never done. This time I set off towards the Swedish border.
On the first day I started fairly early from home, heading for Drøbak. There are very few accommodation options in that direction, so it had to be a long stage.
The first two hours were in familiar areas, but after that I was on roads I'd never walked before. I reached Bunnefjorden after a little over an hour. Beautiful scenery, quiet roads, and mostly flat or gently undulating terrain — except when I made a poor route choice. Then I ended up climbing a few hundred very steep metres, only to go straight back down again. I checked the map afterwards and realised I could have avoided the climb, but it wasn't easy to make the right choices at that point.
I had light drizzle for parts of the walk and plenty of wind throughout the day. I never needed to protect myself from the rain, and the temperature was comfortable for walking.
I stopped for lunch at Nesset, with coffee from the kiosk and sandwiches from my rucksack. From Nesset to Drøbak there was at times quite a lot of traffic and not much room for me. It quickly becomes a bit stressful and limits the chance to look around and enjoy the surroundings.
The place I stayed overnight was good, and there were plenty of restaurants nearby. The daily routines felt a bit unfamiliar on this first day, but they settle into place after a couple of days. My appetite at dinner was certainly intact after a walk of roughly 40 kilometres.
The second day turned out to be another long one, from Drøbak to Moss. It soon became clear that there would hardly be a single metre of dull transport sections. I spent large parts of the day on footpaths. Some of these were fairly challenging: a bit of light "scrambling", steps more than half a metre high, and paths where the high tide reached well over the trail.
I got my feet wet, but nothing worse than that happened. Still, it was a bit more excitement than I'd bargained for. The weather was glorious, I had several dry pairs of socks in my rucksack, and the shoes dried quickly.
I had lunch on a park bench outside a bakery in Son. It was just as idyllic as I'd been told, with a refreshing breeze coming in from the sea as an added bonus.
The walk into Moss followed the loveliest forest path, almost all the way to the town centre. And in Moss there was, of course, no shortage of places to eat, many of them just a few minutes' walk away.
All in all, it was my best walk so far, adding up to a good 37 eventful kilometres.
Day three was of the more uneventful sort. I set off from Moss heading for Fredrikstad, with some pleasant but fairly steep streets leading out of the town. I managed to muddle the navigation a bit, which meant a few extra climbs, though not enough to make much difference in altitude.
After a while there was a lot of pavement and cycle path alongside moderately busy roads. It was perfectly fine to walk on, at least as long as the traffic wasn't too heavy. Fortunately, that was mostly the case, and it was possible to look around without becoming a danger to myself or anyone else.
Some time after passing Råde, things became far less pleasant. There followed roughly ten kilometres of walking along the edge of the tarmac, with quite heavy traffic in both directions. And the traffic only increased as the working day ended and people were heading home. Usually just one person in each car, but they needed far more space than I did.
It became quite stressful, as it took a lot of concentration to balance on the edge of the road. It was crucial to spot the lorries coming on my side in good time. They pushed so much air that I had to stop, turn sideways, plant my feet wide apart and hold my rucksack away from the road to avoid being knocked over. I nearly lost my balance a few times, and it was frightening.
I managed to avoid becoming a statistic there as well — things usually turn out fine. The last five kilometres were back on pavement and cycle path, and I could enjoy the walk into Fredrikstad.
I stayed at a central hotel and, once the usual end‑of‑day routines were done, I had a good meal at a pleasant restaurant nearby. It tasted excellent and was a lovely way to round off yet another 37‑kilometre day. More on that later …
As the evening and night wore on, I realised that the lovely dinner I'd had also contained something I couldn't tolerate. The result was nausea and very little sleep, and I was certainly not in any shape for a normal day's stage on day four. I managed to extend my hotel stay by another night.
Fortunately, I recovered fairly quickly, so it turned into a pleasant day of sightseeing in Fredrikstad. That actually suited me quite well, as Fredrikstad was completely new to me. I took the charming little ferry over to the Old Town, which carries people to several places in the city. I was genuinely taken aback to find such a brilliant service — completely free.
A lovely day in a pleasant town with glorious weather, though it felt strange to stroll only six kilometres all day, without a rucksack on my back.
By day five I felt completely fine again. The plan was to cross the national border, walking from Fredrikstad to the Norby Centre in Sweden. Yet another day that had to be longer than I would have preferred, but there were few hotels and similar options in that area as well.
It was a surprisingly varied walk, mostly alongside fairly quiet roads. There were some footpaths and forest tracks too. No stress at all and very pleasant walking, in a summer that seemed to offer nothing but good weather.
I was as excited as a child at the thought of crossing my (first) national border. I'd planned to take a selfie in front of a sign saying "Welcome to Sweden" or "EU" or something of the sort, but sensible Swedes don't bother with such things. There was no marking of the border whatsoever, so I felt a bit cheated.
Arriving at the shopping area at Svinesund was embarrassing. I'd been there 57 years earlier, hitchhiking with a friend. We'd been strictly told not to leave Norway, but …
We probably didn't get more than a kilometre into Sweden back then, but it was exciting for two young boys. Abroad for the first time! In those days it was the "Swedish sin" that was on display at the border. We looked at the adverts and signs, but we had neither the money nor the courage to explore any of the offerings. We might well have been stopped because of our age anyway.
Nearly two generations later it was sweets, e‑cigarettes and yet more sweets. And everything seemed aimed squarely at Norwegians. In a way it felt even more embarrassing than what I experienced the first time I was there.
From the border it was no more than an hour's walk to where I was staying, right next to a gigantic shopping centre. I had dinner at the centre as the finale to yet another walk of almost 40 kilometres.
During the night before day six, my right calf made it very clear that the stages were too long. It demanded rest and shorter days if I was to carry on walking. Rather ironic, really, as I had already booked and paid for the next night's accommodation, only 20 kilometres away. But that will have to wait until next time.
So I took the bus from the Norby Centre to Halden, and from there the train home. I had a bit of waiting time in Halden and got to see why the town is known for its abundance of (old) American cars.
