Whirlpools and Bike Rides at Bodø

17/10/2025

After our late evening crossing we arrived in Bodø which we had amusingly been pronouncing so badly that we didn’t understand the announcement of our impending arrival. We’ve had a tendency to treat the ‘ø’ just like an ‘o’ and of course it’s a completely different vowel sound. More of an ‘uh’ than an ‘owe’.

Ausvika Parking

We knew we would be arriving in the dark so we’d planned our overnight parking. It was a Park4Night spot at a large beach car park on the road that runs around the coast to the north-east of Bodø. Google street view had indicated that it was flat and access was easy. Our own intuition said that no-one else would be parking by the beach in such revolting weather. We were right, we parked up and got our heads straight down for a good night’s sleep.

In the morning we got a good look at the car park, which didn’t really have much more to say for itself. There was a long drop toilet with a smell that wasn’t too offensive but a floor that was nerve wrackingly spongy. Otherwise it was just a large gravel expanse, one that we were grateful for.

There was an accessible trail down to the beach which had multiple benches and firepits as well as some further toilets and lots of bins to keep the place spotless. I wasn’t tempted in for a swim but it would be a lovely spot on a better day.

Cycling at Bodø

We’ve really discovered a love of short muddy bike rides in Norway’s Friluft recreational areas, particularly on days when a long hike feels like it might be a bit miserable.

Today was one of those days, so we drove through Bodø to get to the Maskinisten trailhead car park. We’d been considering staying here overnight but when we arrived we realised it was too close to the school and residential housing for us to feel comfortable. We were very happy to park up and head out for a bike ride though.

We started the route on the cross country ski track, heading alongside an outlet from the lake before branching off into the trees and gradually climbing to the ridge over slippery tree roots and rocks. A sharp sleety shower forced us into a welcome shelter for a few minutes before we continued. The trees thinned out as we reached the ridge and without their shelter the cold wind hit us. The trail became muddy and wet, but the discomfort was worth it. Between the showers we got some glimpses of sunshine and views, but you didn’t need to see far to enjoy the autumn colours of the heath.

At a gap in the ridge we descended back down the valley to find the ski track at the far end of the lake. As we were having such an enjoyable ride we followed the track around the other side of the lake, past the biathlon firing ranges and the ski racing arena. Bodø municipality is larger, by a hairs breadth, than Tromsø. The biggest population we’d seen since Trondheim. It was evident in the numbers of people on the trails on a weekday.

The problem with muddy rides is that the bikes need more maintenance and attention in the worst kind of weather. There was a water tap in the car park but the water was freezing cold. Paul gallantly said that it was pointless both of us getting colder and wetter so I retreated to the warmth of the van, stripping off my outer layers and finding something cosy and warm to replace them. The heating went on and Paul finally returned to a van warm enough to unfreeze his white fingers.

Back to Ausvika

That afternoon, when we popped to a supermarket to find some breadcrumbs, a man in fatigues approached us. He’d heard us talking and stopped for a chat with a fellow Brit. He was an RAF officer seconded to the Norwegian forces. His life in Norway with his Swedish wife and young children sounded idyllic, but he still fancied a chat with someone from his native country. I suppose it’s just a little reminder of home.

We drove back to the same parking spot that night. We were on a strict fish diet to get through Paul’s catch so I made us fish fingers for a fish finger sandwich.

We had an early night but were woken by a coach driving into the car park. They were on an aurora watching tour. Despite our tiredness we went out to see the shimmering green waves. Tomorrow we would be south of the arctic circle and the chances of seeing aurora would start to diminish, so every sighting was now a bonus. Little did we know that this, our 15th aurora, was actually the last we would see on this trip.

Saltstraumen

We had hung around for a second night in Bodø because we wanted to see the famous whirlpools of Saltstraumen, sometimes called the world’s strongest maelstrom. The best view of Saltstraumen occurs during the highest tides of the month, when the moon is either new or full. It is recommended to turn up about an hour before the high or low tides to see the tide at it’s fastest.

We weren’t here at the right time of the month for the best experience, but at least the mid morning high tide was convenient.

We parked in the large car park by the Saltstraumen bridge. Only one other car was here but it was obviously very popular in high season. We had our breakfast here before wandering down to the coast below the bridge where we could see the water already rushing past. A couple of people were fishing but Paul decided not to partake. We already had enough fish in the freezer and he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop himself if he started catching.

Rock formations at the coast

About an hour before the high tide I ventured up onto the bridge (Paul stayed down on the coast). Lorries sprayed dirty water as they went past and I averted my face, trying to save myself from the worst of it. At least it was just surface water and not deep puddles.

A tourist boat sailed under the bridge from Bodø harbour, in the distance I could see the cruise ship that had probably brought the tourists in to port. The boat manoeuvred itself close to the long chains of whirlpools that formed as the tide started to run faster. It was obviously difficult for it to stay in position as it continuously shifted around.

The bridge gave me a birds eye view of the fractal patterns that formed in the water but from this distance they seemed quite small. Every now and again one of the eddies would develop a dark hollow centre that looked like a spyhole to the bottom of the ocean  I wondered if the boat gave a better perspective on the size and depth of these vortexes.

A chain of eddies forming

We stayed and watched the hypnotic movement of the water until the high tide had been and gone. Then it was time to move on for the next stage of our journey – the Helgeland coastal trail..