The Wool Museum and a Smal Bru
A pretty good sleep! The bathrooms were out of order, but the place was so cheap it was still worth it.
The site was in shade, but it was quiet.
On the way out I saw the most Norwegian advertisement ever:
Very, very Norwegian. If you don’t vibe with this poster, get out of the country.
Down in the city I found a cool spot next to a bakery and a café, and lingered for a while.
Time for some town square brekkie!
The Eurovelo-1 took a few liberties, passing through neighborhoods and hopping across a big highway. At one point it borrowed an access road inside a golf course. All of it was better than busy roads though!
Is there some city ordinance declaring that all houses be white??
The Eurovelo borrows a chunk of golf course here. Highly amusing!
More serious wood business. A lot of wood gets burned in this country…
Not your ordinary run-of-the-mill lawn ornament.
I love this yellow bush! What is it?
I came across the largest stash of giant toilet paper rolls I’d seen yet in Norway:
Another good day at the giant toilet paper factory!
And soon after that, the first appearance of horses! I knew they were around but it was nice to see them live.
Aha, I knew I’d find horses around here eventually.
The road leapt uphill and zig-zagged, and I went even slower than usual. When I spotted an enormous building that looked like a repurposed factory I had to investigate.
What’s this curious building? It’s the Sjølingstad Uldvarefabrik!
Thanks to a handy translate app, I learned that I was looking at an old wool mill!
Aha, thank you translation app… Now I know I can ring the doorbell.
A nearby kiosk explained things even more. It was time to check this out.
Here, learn about the museum we’re about to see!
Sjølingstad Woollen Mill was established in 1894 and produced yarn and fabrics until 1984. In 1986 the idea of reopening the mill as a “working textile museum” was launched. The spirit of days gone by still linger in these buildings where fabrics are produced on the old machinery, driven by our water power station with a turbine from 1913.
A visit to the museum during the summer season gives you the possibility to get a guided tour around the factory. You learn the history of the mill, and follow the production line from raw wool to finished fabrics.
I parked the bike right out front in the empty parking lot, and rang the bell. About a minute later a woman came walking around the side of the building. She explained that since it was a very slow day, she’d been doing chores on the opposite side of the complex. There were no tours scheduled, but she said she would give me an abbreviated version, and I was welcome to take pictures. Awesome!
A number of these old machines are still in regular use, even now!
Sacks of raw material, and more machines.
Notice the big leather drive belts connected to the power source near the ceiling.
Another of the old machines, still in regular use.
So many amazing colors!
Want to hoist some wool?
The machines are still in regular use! The original factory was a building behind the current one, made of wood, and full of more of such machines. But in the early half of the last century, it got struck by lightning and burned down. I didn’t ask how many times it was struck over the years before the fire happened, but I suspect lightning was inevitable, keeping that many giant metal machines this far up near the top of a steep hill. I can almost visualize the giant haze of potential charge, pulling down on the thunderclouds… KACHOWW!!
They had a gift shop and a small cafeteria. I spent a long time staring at their home-spun yarn, trying to work out which colors made a good combination for a knitting project.
I do believe this is the river that powers the factory!
Once I was back outside there was nothing to do but keep going up the hill. At least I’d replenished my snack supply…
Okay, I’ve been climbing for a long time.
Statue of Peder Claussøn Friis made by Gustav Vigeland
Cool statue but it turns out I can’t read the plaque, and it’s not on any map. Dang!
This should be connected to a tiny grinder that dispenses birdseed onto a plate!
The route became a bike path, running alongside a busy chunk of highway. A few big trucks glided past. Looking at them, I realized I have a lot in common with long-haul truckers. We both carry a lot of stuff, move defensively around cars, and are focused on long distance. Also, we both bring a tiny living space with us: The trucker pulls into a truck stop and sleeps in their cab, and I pull into a campsite and sleep in a tent unfolded from my luggage.
I like this comparison more than the one between me and RV drivers … probably because I don’t like RV drivers. They’re not very pleasant to meet on the road. They tend to have no idea how big they are or what speed is reasonable.
Yes! I’m a highway snob! Yes, yes, aren’t we all. Everyone thinks they’re an above-average driver. It’s a statistical conundrum.
“Farts dampere” … you mean pants?
For a while there were actually so many houses along the road that it was impossible to find an anonymous spot to pee. Definitely an “old person on a bike tour” problem!
Part of the reason these houses can be built so close to water is, the tide does not change much here.
Nice shed you got there!
Hey, finally! A house in a festive color!
I appear to have gained some altitiude.
Why haul your stuff up all the stairs, when you can haul it halfway, to a cart on rails?
I stopped near the shore to eat the rest of a bland sandwich I’d saved from the bakery, and the trees and flowers demanded the fancy camera:
Sometimes it really is dang pretty out here.
Probably treacherous in winter, but a lovely walk in the spring!
Spring has sprung.
Charming roadside color.
Similar to the ground cover I saw all over Iceland.
The road turned away from the coast and sent me up another massive hill. Soon I was looking at a lake instead of the ocean. Midway up, someone had decided to harvest some lumber.
Hmm; why would they put the combination to my luggage on a log?
Don’t chew mess with mah wood!! It’s privat.
I took a long break at the top of the hill. I’d been grabbing onto the guardrail at the edge of the road and resting while still seated on the bike. It was nice to walk around for a few minutes.
Moments later I was at the bottom of the hill, and near the shore again.
After all this cycling I could use a small bru.
I didn’t think the bridge was very small… But they probably meant “narrow”.
Oh boy, here we go! I hope no cars come…
After the bridge I ran into a series of mega-steep hills. For the next three hours I cranked away. Some locals taking a stroll gave me indecipherable words of encouragement. Folks driving cars looked at me with an expression of wary respect like you’d give to someone who was insane but had clearly committed fully to their insanity.
I think I’ve been on this dang hill for an hour…
As I descended into the town of Lyndal I saw yet another burned out house. Another candle left burning? Another space heater too close to a curtain? Who knows.
Okay, this is really looking like a pattern. What’s happening with fire safety in Norway?
I stayed in town just long enough to locate a Thai restaurant and photograph a daring statue:
I don’t know what the inscription actually is, but it might as well be “An Ode To Badonkadonk”
Half an hour later I found the campground, and rolled over to my numbered spot. The reception building was closed. No one came poking around while I was setting up my tent, so I figured the online booking had settled the matter.
There was a cooking area with a power outlet, so I charged my phone and battery and laptop all at once and vacuumed up the soup from the Thai place. Another day of burning too much energy. Good!
Tom kai soup with ramen-like noodles. Why not!
Okay, I’ll admit, this is pretty handy.
It was bedtime but still confusingly light outside. I was glad for my sleep mask.
I am pleased by this camping vista.
One of the things I’ve always struggled with in anime is the pacing of the exposition. Shows tend to base their scripts on manga, and that form being closer to “reading with pictures”, you often get multi-page hunks of exposition where people – or the narrator – ramble on for entire paragraphs instead of actually exchanging dialogue with each other. Meanwhile, the action always stops cold. If you don’t rewrite it, you get the same thing on the screen and the pacing is awful.
Escaflowne seems to be defying that pattern, but doing it badly: Instead of exposition dumps, you get no exposition at all. No one explains their history, or their reasoning, or their feelings. Characters have barely a chance to react or explain themselves before the plot skips forward to the next twist, which tends to end earlier than you expect, usually by interrupting a scene in progress. I’m on the third episode which means I’ve seen about an hour, and it already feels like way too much has happened and I barely know the characters, including Hitomi, whose purpose in life so far is to get dragged through time and space, freak out over visions she doesn’t understand, miss her mom, and continue to dream of getting kissed by a boy she likes. What else is going on in her head? No one knows…
And, while I’m complaining, what’s the deal with her gym bag? Hitomi teleports to a magical alternate world, okay, I’m suspending my disbelief for that. That’s why we’re watching Escaflowne. But every time Hitomi teleports, and no matter where she left it… her gym bag joins her? Mechs, cat-girls, floating fortresses, dragons, I’m rolling with all that because they’re unreal. But I know gym bags … and they’re not that helpful!
