As the plane came in to land, I was struck by the sheer quantity of trees that surrounded the Oslo area. Already I knew that the landscape here was going to look vastly different to that of Scotland, where much of the native forest has long since been wiped out.

After exiting the plane, and collecting my baggage, I was relieved to see that my bike box and pannier, which had been in the hold, looked like they had had an easy time of it, so I was feeling confident that I’d have my bike built up in no time and very soon be on my way into Oslo on the train.

But then, on trying to pump up my tyres, the unmistakable sound of gushing air accompanied every stroke, and no matter how hard I tried, the tyres wouldn’t firm up.

Localising the air’s escape point was impossible over the noise of the Airport’s air conditioning, so it was only after realising that both tyres appeared to be similarly afflicted that I realised that it might actually be the pump itself that was faulty, its hose having burst during the flight.

My luck was in, just across the concourse was another cyclist, Kevin, in the painstaking process of putting his bike back together, 30 hours after leaving Edmonton, Canada. He was soon to set off on a 4 month journey crisscrossing Norway all the way north to the Nordkapp. He had been learning Norwegian especially, and the first stage of his expedition would see him travelling west to Stavanger to see the launch of a recreation of the first boat to safely cross to the Americas.

While gratefully using Kevin’s pump to restore some utility to my bike’s wheels, I asked if he was all set. ‘Do you not see something missing?’ he asked. Well you don’t appear to have a saddle, I commented… It transpired that his bike box had been searched before his final flight from Hamburg and whoever had searched the box had forgotten to reinstate his seatpost and saddle when they closed it back up. At least all I needed was a new bike pump.

Significantly later than I’d hoped, I arrived at Oslo train station with a fully operable bike and plenty of equipment, all that was needed now was for me to reach my campsite on the outskirts of the Norwegian capital of Oslo, a journey of some 6 miles, according to Google maps. The small detail I’d missed was that the campsite was situated at 200 metres elevation, and somehow 6 miles became 8.

Arriving at the campsite at after 11 pm, I had the comfort of knowing that I had already checked in online and had the number of my pitch already. On arriving at the site, though, I discovered that the non-electrical pitches weren’t numbered, and when I worked out which plot was mine, it was already taken by a campervan. Well, there wasn’t much for it but to find the nearest available pitch and set up for the night.