Henningsvær, Fishing Village in the Lofotens

Zagan the motorhome’s in his first Norwegian campsite, after a couple of weeks of aires, car parks and wild camping. We’re at Lyngvær Lofoten Bobilcamping on the E10 near to Henningsvær (N68.22550, E14.21718), which is a bargain 135 NOK (about £13.50) a night, excluding electricity but including a fish-smoking facility. Showers are 10 NOK each mind, so we’ll be using Zagan’s en suite facilities! Ju’s just poured me a glass of wine, so if this post gets increasingly incomprehensible as I go, what’s new?

Lyngvær Lofoten Bobilcamping

Yesterday we arrived at Henningsvær, driving into a car park which was best described as heaving. Coaches, cars, vans, motorhomes, motorbikes, people and dogs jostled about, trying to wedge themselves into a gap. A free for all, we managed to get Zagan’s considerable size squeezed in, shifting a couple of times so we could actually get the door open. My first impression of Henningsvær was thus: “it’s a good job the parking’s free, or I’d be reversing off the island it’s sat on quicker than you can say ‘tourist trap'”. It was a Saturday afternoon in a Lofoten fishing village in summer, which seems like the worst possible time to arrive!

Henningsvær’s spread across umpteen islands – look carefully, there’s a motorhome on the way

What Henningsvær looks like in real life – not bad eh?

Heading into the village itself, which is a port spread across a few islands, the place seems to survive roughly 50-50, half tourist facilities and half hard-core sea fishing. The easiest part of the town to walk to is the tourist bit: all restaurants, artist galleries, a climber’s cafe, homeware-lifestyle shops, the usual newsagent-McNordicDonalds multi-function place (albeit 3 times as expensive) and a supermarket.

In Cod We Trust  -graffiti by Pobel, the Scandinavian Banksy

Further round, on the other side of the harbour, the stuff of calloused hands, fish guts and beards, the real-deal of fishing boats and processing houses. With the exception of us tourists, not much was happening though, and the air was cold under a laden grey sky, pushing us back to Zagan for a warm.

Dried cod head, only a tenner to you sir

Fishing boat in repair

The New Captain Birdseye?

Sigh, outdone again.

Fishing boats waiting for action

Door of the day!

Heath Robinson would be proud of that gantry thing down to the sea

Ran back to the van to get a photo of this: a light’s on, it’s finally getting dark(er) at night

Henningsvær

Deranged puffin shouting ‘Here’s Johnny’?

Henningsvær

But not before bumping into Mandy and Graham, and their lively pooch Kipper. These guys have been wandering Europe for a year now, and came across this here rambling blog in the years they were planning their escape. Having done more than a lifetime’s work (Graham’s done over twice the years I ever plan to work), they’re now enjoying their retirement in adventurous style. After a few chats and much dog stroking, we left them this morning and headed here via a rather beautiful beach.

Spotted on a Norwegian van – an anti-gas alarm? Much like an anti-pixie lock?

Nice – no nationality has the monopoly on crassness…

Sign in the village

From where I’m sat we can see the mountains of the lower Lofotens. Hold onto your boots: we’ve got some work to do, putting together a website for a company I worked for 20 years back. We needed the WiFi, the washing machine, and a wee break from the road. The weather’s also threatening to lash it down for a day or two, so we figured now was a good time to get some campsite action. The site’s about half full with folks from across Europe, including plenty of Norwegian’s come to look around their northern regions. The sun’s currently shining, drying Ju’s washing and making her happy. My glass of vino is definitely half full.

Look at the sympathy on Charlie’s face: “ha ha, very funny, sausages called knackers. I suppose you’ll be making endless jokes about eating knackers now?” Yes Charlie, we certainly will.

Cheers, Jay

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