28 Km

That’s what I estimate was the total of my bike trip yesterday. Okay, so it’s not the Tour de France, but it’s something. It’s an attempt at living the Norwegian ‘friluftsliv’ [again, the ‘free air life’]. And I was not lame this morning from my exertion yesterday, so maybe that says something too. 🙂

Yesterday was not a necessary market day, so I could throw caution to the wind and head south to take a few pictures of the Rygge Kirke–the 12th century church in the community of Rygge, about 12 km from Moss. Getting from our apartment on Verket to the somewhat flat terrain of the road to Rygge took a little effort on my part. There were several areas in which I found it necessary to walk my bike up the hill. It probably took me about an hour and 20 minutes to make it to the Rygge Kirke, stopping to take a few pictures along the way.

Love the farms and the red barns.

Love the farms and the red barns.

These seagulls kept following this tractor as it tilled the ground back and forth.

These seagulls kept following this tractor as it tilled the ground back and forth.

This Rygge church was built around the 12th century, and, according to the display along the road next to it, it may have been a rather wealthy church in its time. The oldest grave markers I came across were placed there in the 1830s, not terribly old for this country. But I didn’t search carefully. Also, this church had been whitewashed up until several years ago when they decided to clean off the paint and give it a more original look. It will be at this church that Paul and I attend morning services with friends on Syttende Mai next month.

A brief description.

A brief description.

I do not know what this statue represents, farming, perhaps?

I do not know what this statue represents, farming, perhaps?

Rygge Kirke and my trusty set of wheels.

Rygge Kirke and my trusty set of wheels.

I'm told that if a grave is not attended to, it is dug up to make room for more. (unless it is historically significant)

I’m told that if a grave is not attended to, it is dug up to make room for more. (unless it is historically significant)

After I toured around the church grounds, I headed off for the house of my friend, Gerd. It was she who I visited early in our stay here, and I wanted to pay her another visit. I had not called first, an oversight on my part, but I was fortunate that she had just returned home. She invited me in for a welcome glass of water and some ‘julekake med syltetøy’ [Christmas cake with jam], and we caught up on one anothers’ life for a little while. I can’t stress it enough as to how welcoming and gracious this fine lady is. I am fortunate to know her.

Gerd and I with her roses, but she said that we were the roses. :-)

Gerd and I with her roses, but she said that we were the roses. 🙂

I wanted to see just how long it would take me to ride straight home, so I didn’t stop on the way. Interestingly, I did not have to stop to walk my bike at all on the way home. I did need to put the bike into first gear several times and struggle a bit, but I made it back in 50 minutes.

It was a good afternoon’s journey. 🙂

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