It was as if I'd entered another world, on a different scale. The mountains seemed to have sunk into the sea or the sea risen to flood them. The road, still empty, was cut from the rocks and often plunged into black tunnels. I was heading east now and I stopped to check the route. The concierge at the Oslo hotel had downloaded directions to the hotel but they were difficult to make much sense of and the villages mentioned did not appear on the map. There were no other roads and the general direction was correct so I drove on stopping often to look at the view

I passed a hamlet and there was a woman gardening in front of a large wooden house. I charged past but the road soon became narrower still, so I turned back and stopped in front of her house. I asked if she spoke English and she said; "yes, a little". She was friendly in a reserved way, though she might have wondered what I was doing there. She gave me directions in perfect English. I had taken the wrong fork some miles back and after another long period of narrow gravel track running along the side of a lake, I found myself on a small but proper road