Having enjoyed a good night’s sleep, I was up and prepared for my first mountain today. My intended route would follow E16 north of Oslo, over a mountain range to the western town of Bergen.

7.30 am, petrol station on the outskirts of Goteborg and a "senior moment". I could not work out how to use the unmanned petrol pump. An early Sunday morning biker came to my aid. I was omitting to select the pump number.... duuuuh!

This fortunate meeting with Pete on his GSXR changed my route for that day. He warned me of the mountain being closed due to heavy snow fall and high winds. Instead, I headed further north on E06, intending to cross the mountains the following day. The mountain range that runs up the spine of Norway is much higher in the south. I had a better chance of traversing the range further north. We will see!

The bike is running well. I almost take that for granted. She is so efficient and smooth. But I still do my daily checks and adjustments where necessary. Up to now, all I have had to do is fill it with petrol, sometimes twice a day. However, I will not pass by the opportunity to fill up, even though I am carrying a spare two litre can.

Today's ride is glorious: perfect tarmac, winding roads through beautiful Swedish forests. I cross the border into Norway at lunchtime. You would not know it, except for the change in speed limit. A painful 50mph max. The E06 continues with my compass pointing ever north. My compass! It’s gone! It was on a Velcro pad on my dashboard. It must have fallen off during that crazy sprint with the Hell's Angels.

The road passes Fredrikstad and Sarpsborg, hugging the Baltic coast. This part of the Baltic is known a Skagerrak. The deep, cobalt blue surface ripples with the breeze. Under the surface are shoals of cod, salmon, herring and crayfish. Mmm: the chef is planning his next menu from the saddle of his V Strom.

Oslo is approaching, I will not get lost! My road takes me east of the city and it is soon behind me. Ha! Getting better at navigating and avoiding cities and large towns. Within ten miles of Oslo, the scenery takes a dramatic change. I now am in wooded countryside, broken up by plush meadows, with snow topped mountains in the foreground.

At last, I have left the metropolis of the south behind. A sign for Lillehammer reminds me of the 1996 winter Olympics. Such a small town to host such a great event. At around 3pm each day, my routine is to start looking for my resting place for that night. I see a sign near Hamar for camping and promptly turn off in search of it.

A village shop may help with directions. A man comes out of the shop and smiles. He lives with his family in a beautiful wooden farm house on the edge of a forest of Christmas trees.

His name is Trond Angell. Another angel to my aid. Having accepted his offer of supper and a bed for the night, I was introduced to his family. His wife and three boys made me very welcome.

At 5pm, we all climbed the hill into the forest and arrived at a quaint pine cottage where Grandpa and Grandma lived. Karin, that is Grandma, has prepared supper, and I was guest of honour. They were intrigued by my story and journey. Karin kindly gave me her recipe for "Fishengrateng", fish pie to you! That dish went on my next menu on my return home, a tribute to Karin and her family.

I left the Angell family the next morning with a new high vis jacket, a packed lunch and a pair of clean socks. I think there was a subtle hint. My feet were getting smelly. No avoiding the mountains today. Bring it on!!

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