After a few frustrating dead ends I found a road that wasn't on the map but seemed to lead up, out of the valley and into the mountains. There were no more farms up here. they were replaced by the occasional ski chalet or hunting lodge. The trees thinned out and those that remained were short and unhealthy looking. There were patches of dirty snow by the roadside as I climbed higher. I came to a wooden barrier. It was raised but didn't seem inviting. A large sign in Norwegian probably stated that this was a private road but I chose to ignore it

No other cars were around as the road levelled out on the top of the mountain range. It looked as if the road was hardly ever used, posts were pushed into the ground on either side of the single track and the many small lakes I passed were all frozen over. It was desolate and charmless. There was no sign that the road was leading anywhere other than the occasional locked up hunting shack. Who would want to spend time up here I wondered, and what would they shoot? I had wanted to leave the valley but up here there was little to see, just dirty snow, broken trees and a lowering cloudy sky

I soon realised that I was on the wrong road. This rather endless road, ran along a fairly well populated valley that was taking me back too far to the East. I checked the map and revised my route. I was half way through my journey and still felt I hadn't really found the sort of views that I had imagined. In my head I heard my wife telling me to enjoy what was around but I reckoned that if I could cross the river, I might find a small road leading me North West across the mountains and then I could swing back down towards the coast and my Hotel. It would be a lot longer than the route I had planned and I had booked a meal at the hotel for that evening at eight o'clock but the distant mountains looked a lot more appealing than the busy valley that I was in

The road was busy and I only stopped occasionally, keen to push North. The villages followed the same pattern that I had seen the day before, nestling on the shores at the end of long, narrow lakes. I was higher now and it wasn't so hot anymore. In Oslo they had said that the unusually good weather was going to continue but I don't often have luck with the weather and I worried about the gathering clouds

I followed the Audi estate a short distance to the gallery which was a shop front with more space in an old stable building in an inner courtyard. We were joined by the gallery director whom I'd met earlier in the year in my London. I looked around the space with the two of them trying to imagine various works that I might hang in the different rooms. I took some photographs and then we all left. Marina, the gallery owner drove me to my hotel which was luxurious and elegant. Later that evening we all met in a stylish restaurant and, wary of talking too much after being silent for two days, I told them a bit about my trip. I heard about their lives and the gallery and we agreed to make an exhibition the following year. I slept well in a comfortable room. The over helpful young concierge used the inter net to book the hotel that the gallerist had recommended and explained how best to leave Oslo

I took a turn off into town at random hoping that I would recognise something. I didn't and anyway I didn't know if the gallery was even in the centre of Oslo. I cursed myself for being disorganised and after driving aimlessly for a while, making illegal "U" turns, I stopped on a local shopping street. It felt odd to be back on a pavement with urban people passing me without a word. I went into a cafe and ordered a coffee so as to get some change for the phone. When it came to pay the pretty waitress said that she didn't take Euro's or Swedish Krona's. She said I could have the coffee for free and directed me to another shop where I might find a cash machine and a pay-phone. I made contact with the gallerist and it turned out that by chance I was on the very street where the gallery was located. After returning to the cafe to pay for the coffee, I stood on the curb and watched the townsfolk pass by until she arrived

The road was busier now and it wasn't possible to stop at will, anyway I was keen to reach Oslo now, so I photographed through the open window with the smaller camera, the larger one having run out of batteries. The sun was getting low and reflecting off everything including the cars in front of me. Colours were becoming intense and strange with a kind of dustiness in the air. The windscreen was filthy with bugs and dirt and it took some concentration to drive. I realised that with no mobile, no map of Oslo and no Norwegian money, finding the gallery would not be easy. It didn't seem to matter too much, it had been a good day and I wasn't late. I had shown in Oslo before, in a group show in the nineties with a number of other British artists. It had been mid-winter and I remembered cold walks in the centre of town and ice skating and snow-ball fights in the suburbs. Group shows have a way of infantalizing the artists but also creating a sense of camaraderie. I don't seem to do so many shows like that anymore

Now that I was no longer lost I felt more relaxed. I stopped to look at old wooden farms with turf roofs and churches made of wood so ancient that it had turned black and had a surface more like stone than wood. I felt pleased with myself for sticking with the project and finding my way across the wilderness. I looked forward to a meal in Oslo and perhaps a better hotel. It would be strange to talk and spend time with people again. I did not know the gallerists I was going to meet and it would be hard to make the shift back to being socially appropriate

The road turned from gravel back to tarmac and became a little wider. I even passed a small truck heading in the other direction. I should have stopped them to ask the way but felt I must be on the right route and didn't really want to admit I was lost. I came to a fork in the road and took the larger of the two. After another ten minutes of driving the tarmac disappeared, and I seemed to be back on the same old track. I was becoming a bit concerned and a bit bored. It was fun to drive on this treacherous surface but I'd been doing it for hours and I wanted to get to Oslo before dark. I was intending to accept an offer to do a show there the following year and I wanted to see what the space looked like in daylight. More than that it felt frustrating to be unable to escape, like being in a maze

I have been making a number of films of water moving. I had bought a video camera along and I set it up on a tripod on a little peninsular jutting into the lake. I left the camera running and concentrated on listening. I guess everybody does this sometimes, to focus only on what you can hear as if it were music. It was easy to do here as the only sounds were the birds and the quietly lapping water. After a while I returned to the car with all the equipment and decided it was time to find the road to Oslo. I inserted the Led Zeppelin CD and dove off, sending up a spray of gravel