CCF Trustee Patrick Boggon is undertaking a mammoth 3,000km cycle challenge through Europe, in aid of the Foundation’s Sharing Fund. Here is his account of Week 1 of his epic ride…
Nordkapp, the northernmost tip of Europe, is famed for its rugged beauty, dramatic cliffs, and abundant wildlife. Naturally, we saw none of that. Instead, we were treated to dense sea fog, driving rain, and temperatures that would make a penguin reach for a jumper.
The headwinds persisted for the next two days. On the plus side, they cleared the fog rather efficiently, revealing truly stunning seascapes and towering cliffs. On the downside, the gusts were occasionally strong enough to force us off the bikes and into the walk of shame.
The scenery in the far north is nothing short of epic. The climate is so unforgiving that trees, and shrubs, sensibly decline to grow there. Just bare hilltops and wind-scoured cliffs. What the reindeer live on is anyone’s guess, but it clearly works for them.
Midweek brought a dramatic shift in weather. The wind dropped, the sun came out, and temperatures soared to a toasty 28–30°C. Lovely, except we were joined by an enthusiastic swarm of what can only be described as horseflies on performance-enhancing drugs. They managed to keep pace with us all day and left us dotted with red welts, giving us a fetching look somewhere between measles and polka dots.
One particular highlight (if that’s the word) was the day the tarmac abruptly ended, leaving us rattling across a mountain plateau on what could generously be called a ‘track’. It was breathtaking – we saw a herd of several hundred reindeer up close – but the 30 km ride back to civilisation gave our bones a thorough rearrangement.
The vastness of the Arctic North is hard to overstate. The bare hills of the far north gradually gave way to stubbly shrubs, then small, scrappy trees that valiantly tried to resemble forests. It’s taken a week and 800km for us to see modest fields again.
One of the most striking things on this journey has been the kindness of people we’ve met. The standout moment came when we met Jens Andersen and his family one evening at a café. He spoke glowingly of the UK – Scotland in particular – which he’d visited four times, being something of a whisky enthusiast. My brother Chris, proud owner of the most ridiculous whisky collection known to man, immediately found a kindred spirit. They bonded over their favourite Islay malts like long-lost cousins at a distillery reunion.
When Jens learned that our precious hip flasks were running perilously low, he was properly sympathetic. So much so that the next evening, he drove 100km south just to bring us a delicious bottle of Islay whisky to top up our supplies. Kilchoman Sanaig, if you’re wondering. That sort of generosity genuinely left us speechless – and rather better lubricated.
So, in summary: an extraordinary week filled with unforgettable scenery, deeply malevolent insects, gale-force winds, and astonishing generosity.
- Support Patrick’s cycle challenge at https://cumbriafoundation.enthuse.com/cf/patrick-s-pedal-power