Brian Cheung


Thoughts, photos and anecdotes from my travels through Norway, Scotland and Finland.

Bunes In A Gale

I woke up this morning feeling refreshed and ready to pick up from where I left off. Unfortunately the weather had other ideas, and what started as a gentle shower yesterday grew overnight into a horizontal downpour. In hindsight I would have been much better off staying in today and using yesterday for adventure time, but then when has hindsight ever struck at the appropriate moment?

I tried to wait out the storm, but when it became clear that things were nowhere near wrapping up I resolved to just get on with my day regardless. At the least it was an opportunity to give my Goretex + ski pant combo a test run in the elements.

Plan A of catching a ferry to the other side of Moskenesøya to hike to Horseid beach was a no go, as the weekend ferry schedule wouldn't have allowed enough time to get there and back in a day. I opted instead for the easier trek to nearby Bunes beach, also partially reached by ferry. 

The wind and rain seemed to pick up between setting off from Reine to when we disembarked at Vinstad, and I can't say I felt much confidence or intelligence standing there on the Vinstad docks already a bit soggy with four hours to kill before the next ferry showed up. Myself and the handful of other foolish tourists nevertheless trudged onwards to Bunes. 

It was an easy route, just made a whole lot more taxing with the wind smashing into us head on and the rain coming at our faces like needles. Alongside Horseid and Kvalvika, Bunes faces north and is completely exposed to any malicious winds swept down from the North Pole. The beach looked like it would have been stunning on a clear day, but everything just felt cold and sinister in the violent weather. You'll notice the sand being blown up in streams in some of the photos in the slideshow, which gives some indication to the incessantly howling gales.

It took me an hour or so to get to the beach, and after a quick lunch behind the shelter of a sand dune, I allowed myself to be blown back to Vinstad. There was still over an hour before the ferry arrived but mercifully there was a cobbled together cafe at the old school in the village. I use cafe in the loosest of terms, as it was just a single woman slinging waffles out of a waffle iron and baking kanelbolle as we helped ourselves to mismatched cups, a hot water urn and instant coffee for 20NOK a cup (10NOK per refill), sitting in what looked like a disused classroom. It was basic for sure, but more than welcome after the wet ridiculous hike. 

norwayBrian Cheung