Hike and bike on Senja
Five star paradise
June 18, 2025
Thursday 29th of May - Tromsø
Originally, we planned to go for a hike on Senja after Tromsø. The climate there is usually milder, and we hoped most of the snow would be gone by then. We had also mapped out a cycling route as an alternative. We’re so glad we called Tim, a Belgian with a kayak business on Senja, and he encouraged us to take our bikes instead. “If you have bicycles, I’d definitely use them. The trail is still very wet and muddy at the moment,” he said.
So we hopped on our bikes, and Sharon even came along for the day. Olivier was delighted — now we could visit Sommarøy, the spot he’d been looking forward to as a five-star overnight stay. When we arrived, the place was filled with campers. We kept cycling until we reached the last possible spot, but there it was impossible to carry our bikes over the rocks. We paused to figure out what to do.
Then a man who lived nearby walked up to us. “I have a campsite with the most beautiful spot reserved for you — and you can stay there for free.” We exchanged surprised glances — a campsite? He led us down a path behind his home, and suddenly a breathtaking view appeared before us. Below were small islands connected by bridges of sand, their waters a rich shade of blue.
“I don’t even know your name yet,” Zoë said in a gesture of thanks.
“Harald,” he replied — and then added: “Would you like to join me in the sauna at 9 p.m.? We can share a beer afterwards.” Inside the sauna, which he had constructed from recycled wood, we got to know this remarkable man. Harald told us about his decision, as a young man, to buy the place against all advice, and about the life lessons he had learned along the way. The greatest one was: “If I could live my life over again, I’d make the same choices — I’d still be myself.”
“If I could live my life over again, I’d make the same choices — I’d still be myself.”
Brainstorm
During our morning walk, we forgot to check when the ferry leaves for Senja. We’re half an hour late and have to wait four hours. Fortunately, many small grocery stores in remote areas also serve as community centers. Often there’s a “venterom”—a place where locals can share the latest gossip or enjoy a cup of coffee while reading the newspaper. We ask the store employee if we can take refuge there from the wind until the boat leaves, and we use the time for one of our “brainstorm sessions.” Annemie once said to us, with a smile, “you turn everything into a brainstorm.” Perhaps there’s some truth in that. It helps us stay on track, both individually and together.
Today we look back on our four focus goals for the year. Each of us has four goals, and together we check whether we’re still on course. We’re quite satisfied by the time we board the ferry, nearly four hours later. To our surprise, it’s a bit greener here than we’ve previously seen, but the mountains are still covered in snow.
We’re also surprised by a somewhat fairytale-like feeling as we approach the first tunnel — it’s dark inside, full of holes, with a kind of mist hanging in the air. After the tunnel, we find a beautiful spot to set up base camp for two nights.
We decide to set out for a hike at 7:30 p.m. anyway. After all, it’s light all night, and today the sun is shining. It turns out to be the most beautiful hike of our trip. As we make our way upward, the sun moves quietly alongside us in the sky. After crossing a vast boardwalk through the marshes and clambering from stone to stone, we reach a peak we hadn’t expected — with Senja’s most stunning mountains resting beneath the glow of the midnight sun.
"It’s wonderful—the contrast between slow travel and even slower travel. Suddenly, the bike feels fast again."
Slow
The hike & bike trip is a fairly new concept for us, but we’re already loving it. In Patagonia and Peru, we also did a number of hikes, but there, cycling was the main thread. Here, hiking guides us, and the bike brings us from one trail to the next. Our base camp is set up in the valley for two nights, surrounded by three “toppturer”—the beautiful Norwegian word for peak hikes.
Today we’re tackling the more touristy Hesten and the Stavelitippen peak. We’re surprised by the number of ptarmigans we see — a bird that’s frequently hunted in Norway and is becoming less and less visible in our own region. Above us, a sea eagle circles gracefully, while the cuckoo continues to follow us on this journey.
It’s wonderful—the contrast between slow travel and even slower travel. Suddenly, the bike feels fast again, but it’s also a practical way to get from one trail to another. Walking and cycling together — especially when we reach those breathtaking views — really offers us the best of both worlds.
Respect
We cycle along the scenic coastal route. In general, it’s fairly quiet, but camper tourism is starting to increase. It’s a somewhat greyer day. As we round a corner, we come across a parking lot filled with campers. People are getting out to take photos. We get that “o…what’s there to see?” feeling and stop our bikes to follow them. We take some photos of the beautiful landscape as well, but the picture feels a bit empty without our bikes or our tent — a photo just because everyone is taking a photo, even though we’ve been capturing beautiful scenes from our bikes all along.
n the afternoon, we happily set up our tent — yet again in a five-star spot — before riding without luggage to the start of a new trail. We swap our cycling legs for our walking ones. Along the way, we’re stopped twice by people who say, “Respect — first cycling and then conquering another peak.” These two individuals tell us they saw us back in the parking lot. One of them says: “I’m kind of glad I’m in a camper, seeing you out there in the cold.”
Zoë lets it sink in for a moment, then says to Olivier: “Of course I appreciate the compliments — they make me grow a little. But oh, I wish I could show them that there’s no need to feel sorry for us. We’re so fortunate! And I wish I could let them experience what we get in return for just a bit of wind or rain!”
When we get back to our private Caribbean-like beach, we’ve burned at least 1,000 additional calories, enjoyed breathtaking views, gone for a swim in the ocean, collected our own mussels, and now we’re feasting in the sunset, sheltered from the breeze. We close our eyes for a restful night’s sleep — with a deep feeling of happiness and contentment in our bodies.
Rain
We know that rain is expected in the afternoon. At 8:30 a.m., we’re already on our bikes — much earlier than on previous days. The plan is to cycle all the way to the other side of the island, to Ånderdalen National Park. With some luck, we’ll arrive before the rain begins.
Over the past few days, we’ve seen more and more cyclists — all heading toward the North Cape. But now, we leave the coastal route behind, and we won’t see any more cyclists. With rain in the forecast, we’re expecting few other visitors in the national park. Yet when we arrive, the parking lot is surprisingly full — cars and camper vans everywhere. We’ve ridden the last hour in our ponchos, but even the rain is something we enjoy today.
For the past few years, a two-kilometer gravel path has marked the beginning of the park. After just one kilometer, we spot a cluster of tents pitched at a camping spot. Surprised, we look a little further and see a group of schoolchildren. They’re from a French school and are spending a week here to help and learn about nature.
We push our bikes along a narrow trail and then duck into the woods, looking for a flat spot to set up camp. The rain taps gently on the tent as we settle in, feeling grateful for our cozy shelter and the book resting in our laps.
All morning, rain pours down on the tent. It's the first real rain we've had this trip — quite a luxury in Northern Norway! We stay inside, reading, brainstorming ideas for our honeymoon, and planning winter trips for 2026. Honestly, it feels like a gift to have such a slow, cozy morning.
By midday, we’re itching to move. It’s still drizzling lightly, but we pack our backpacks and set off toward Ånderdalsvannet. Zoë wears her high mountain boots, while Olivier chooses his sandals. The trail winds through long stretches of marshland, and there’s even some snow on parts of the path. Cold toes, but as we always say: our skin is the fastest-drying layer we own.
We build a small campfire and enjoy our lunch in the company of two Swiss travelers who now live in Trondheim. Meanwhile, the sun begins to peek shyly through the clouds.
By evening, the skies clear completely. Suddenly, the mountains of the national park come into view, and the ancient pine trees glow in the golden sunlight. It’s our last night in the tent. Tomorrow, we’ll cycle back to Tromsø. We would have loved to continue at this slow rhythm all the way to Lillehammer — 2,000 kilometers to the south — but with so many other plans waiting, we simply don’t have two extra months. It’s time to start preparing for our wedding!
Our next long adventure will be our honeymoon. Zoë is currently reading On the Trail of Genghis Khan, in which Tim Cope travels on horseback from Mongolia to Hungary over four years. No surprise, then, that Zoë dreams of a journey with animals, in a place with a deep and authentic culture. Bulgaria, Turkey, Jordan, and Morocco are currently at the top of our list.
But that decision can wait. For now, we enjoy one last beautiful evening by the fire, looking back on this unforgettable trip. It exceeded all expectations — so many moments to treasure. Grateful and full of warmth, we drift off to sleep.
