Lofoten: Day 5

The small Reine to Vindstad ferry only runs in the afternoon on a Sunday, allowing me the luxury of a long lie-in. Chatting to Jack over breakfast, I learn he’s from Margate, just down the road from me — strange coincidences.

The ferry boarding is chaotic as the handheld ticket scanner is not working. Those of us who booked online have to pay twice despite evidence of payment. This slows the queue drastically as everyone has the same argument with the ferryman. He remains calm and firm, glancing up at the sky as if to say it’s out of his hands.

We dock first at Kjerkfjorden, where I sheltered in the hut, before rounding the headland to Vindstad. One of the decisions for my original hike was whether to use the ferry for this short section or climb over the ridge separating the two valleys. Searching for a route over the wall of black rock, only one narrow gully looks passable. It’s not recommended in wet weather and is for experienced hikers only. Thankfully, that decision was taken out of my hands.

Everyone is here for the short hike to Bunes Beach, where I’d planned to camp on Friday night. We have three hours before the ferry returns and it’s not wise to miss it unless you have a tent for the night.

The air is damp and clouds swirl across the grim mountains.

Mountains on both sides shelter the vast beach.

An intrepid pair of backpackers have carried shovels to build an impressive castle. When the children were younger, on our joint holidays with the Bain family, we constructed huge Helm’s Deep sand walls between rocks to hold back the sea as long as possible. The dads always wanted to bring garden spades but were overruled. Probably wise as we already had to wade round one headland carrying our beach gear and smallest children, with the sea in danger of cutting us off.

A solitary tent sits by the sand. That should have been me. I’d also planned to climb Helvetestinden mountain in the background, although clearly not from this side.

Returning to the jetty, around 30 people are anxiously waiting for the ferry, now over 30 minutes late.

A tiny boat arrives, with a capacity of no more than 10 people, which prompts an unwise dash down onto the pontoon, ignoring the sign saying no more than 12 people. The boat is here to pick up a private party, so everyone files back up onto the jetty.

Shortly after, the ferry appears. It still arrives at Reine on schedule, so I suspect we were given a false departure time to ensure everyone was back from the beach.

Walking back to the guest house, the clouds clear a little. A good omen for tomorrow, my final day, which is forecast to be a scorcher …. well, relatively.

Date of walk: Sunday 1 September 2024.