"I love you just the way you aaaarrrrrrre" croons the slightly off-key lounge performer on board the Midnatsol as we lumber northwards. Thanks man. Weaving between coastal settlements and deserted snowy islanded peaks, I observe them for 3 blissful hours from my own deserted island; one of two steaming open air jacuzzis atop this proud oceanic Mastodon. As snow drifts into my bubbling refuge, determined tugboats follow ferries and unexplained flashing lights blink from distant uninhabited forests. A rare spell of luxury on travels that are shortly, surely to become a touch more gruelling.
I rank amongst the youngest passengers on board and attracted glares as I attempted reorganise my rucksack in front of a wealthy mix of americans and germans, stifling the urge to sit back and declare "I'm really gonna have to offload some of this crack". Backpackers are undoubtedly a rare breed on the Hurtigruten. The staff were likewise taken aback when I explained I intended to travel sans-cabin,
"You're going to Kirkenes"
"Yes"
"...and you don't want a cabin?"
"No. Sleep is for the weak."*
*This conversation may not have taken place
With a surprisigly heavy heart I departed Tromso after enjoying my time there. The memories will linger. Snow-rafting, kiting, the northern lights, new people, students wandering the library in socks, exploring the island, finding the lake, kids in all-in-one snow-suits, a stroll round the botanic gardens to the goon show, drivers stopping to let you cross the road, no litter anywhere, recycling everywhere and always the isolating, grand, uncompromising backdrop to rely on like an old friend.
But in the words of Nelly Furtado all good things come to an end... mind you she also sang "don't you gaga goo no coochie-coo girl now ". I will attempt to find some darkened alcove to catch a little shut-eye in preparation for new shores and new adventures, starting with Hammerfest at 6:30am prompt.
Drift drift drift.
Update: Found a rug and curled up in the panoramic lounge for 2 hours of sleep before being awoken at 5am by over-keen early risers coughing and babbling German right next to me. Seemed a little confused as I tossed them overboard muttering xenophobic football-related comments, before heading back to my nap.
Monday, 14 April 2008
Saturday, 12 April 2008
Onwards and upwards
"It's compelling", I mused to Damian shortly before his departure...
"What."
"Coming this far north, you just get the urge to go norther"
Tromso has been enthralling for nigh on 2 weeks, exploring by week and snow-sporting by weekend at the incredible hospitality of my first couchsurfing hosts Melanie and Jon.
But I run the risk of becoming a slovenly traveller and must tread on.
I was informed by tourist information that the only link from Tromso to Finland, Lipan Linjat coaches, had made it timetablingly obvious that they didn't want people from Tromso to visit their country during the Winter. It seems - like many businesses this far north - that during the colder months they'd prefer to sit quaffing reindeer than accept my cold hard cash. This presented the first major hurdle to my plans, as previous readings of their schedule had led me to believe otherwise...
I was not to be undone, and a Norwegian sauna later my thoughts turned to a conversation with some German couchsurfers during my first night in Tromso,
"It had a sauna and a roof top swimming pool" they gushed of the great Hurtigruten ferry which scours the pock-marked west coast of Norway all the way up to the second-most bombed town during WW2. "...but we had no trunks".
and so my friends I was faced with the choice of a gruelling hitch-hike through the Finnish outback (a 7 hour journey from Tromso to Kitilla) or the Hurtigruten. Loca, a Taiwanese traveller with Eurail pass in hand had opted for former, and we received his relieved, babbling email 2 days later that went something to the tune of:
14 hours, 7 drivers, 2 sleepless nights (one in an unlocked outhouse he had found after missing the last train).
Great story, but the call of the Hurtigruten is strong and I must take heed.
Set the heading for north by north east and don't look back. Apologies to Finland, but it had mostly been a means by which to reach the Motherland, which I can now do by way of the 5 hour journey from Kirkenes to Murmansk - northern Russia holding a certain mystery en (my) route second only to North Korea (recommended reading).
Due to leave today on this, I instead opted to wait an extra day for the pride of the fleet to dock in Tromso - complete with sun deck, panoramic bar, jacuzzi, sauna and dancing bears.
Arriving in Kirkenes 40 hours later, feeling a little morose to be leaving Norway as I trudge to my 2pm departure to Murmansk, largest city north of the arctic circle, where I shall couchsurf a few days before a train ride to Pertozavodsk and beyond.
Mother Russia awaits...
"What."
"Coming this far north, you just get the urge to go norther"
Tromso has been enthralling for nigh on 2 weeks, exploring by week and snow-sporting by weekend at the incredible hospitality of my first couchsurfing hosts Melanie and Jon.
But I run the risk of becoming a slovenly traveller and must tread on.
I was informed by tourist information that the only link from Tromso to Finland, Lipan Linjat coaches, had made it timetablingly obvious that they didn't want people from Tromso to visit their country during the Winter. It seems - like many businesses this far north - that during the colder months they'd prefer to sit quaffing reindeer than accept my cold hard cash. This presented the first major hurdle to my plans, as previous readings of their schedule had led me to believe otherwise...
I was not to be undone, and a Norwegian sauna later my thoughts turned to a conversation with some German couchsurfers during my first night in Tromso,
"It had a sauna and a roof top swimming pool" they gushed of the great Hurtigruten ferry which scours the pock-marked west coast of Norway all the way up to the second-most bombed town during WW2. "...but we had no trunks".
and so my friends I was faced with the choice of a gruelling hitch-hike through the Finnish outback (a 7 hour journey from Tromso to Kitilla) or the Hurtigruten. Loca, a Taiwanese traveller with Eurail pass in hand had opted for former, and we received his relieved, babbling email 2 days later that went something to the tune of:
14 hours, 7 drivers, 2 sleepless nights (one in an unlocked outhouse he had found after missing the last train).
Great story, but the call of the Hurtigruten is strong and I must take heed.
Set the heading for north by north east and don't look back. Apologies to Finland, but it had mostly been a means by which to reach the Motherland, which I can now do by way of the 5 hour journey from Kirkenes to Murmansk - northern Russia holding a certain mystery en (my) route second only to North Korea (recommended reading).
Due to leave today on this, I instead opted to wait an extra day for the pride of the fleet to dock in Tromso - complete with sun deck, panoramic bar, jacuzzi, sauna and dancing bears.
Arriving in Kirkenes 40 hours later, feeling a little morose to be leaving Norway as I trudge to my 2pm departure to Murmansk, largest city north of the arctic circle, where I shall couchsurf a few days before a train ride to Pertozavodsk and beyond.
Mother Russia awaits...
Tuesday, 8 April 2008
Days
Ok new photos up.
Things I needed the most:
Boots
Sleeping Bag
Things I could do without:
Cough
Dry skin
Norwegian prices (think festival prices then add a bit)
Slipping
Nice:
The crunch of snow underfoot
Fresh air
Views
Things I needed the most:
Boots
Sleeping Bag
Things I could do without:
Cough
Dry skin
Norwegian prices (think festival prices then add a bit)
Slipping
Nice:
The crunch of snow underfoot
Fresh air
Views
Sunday, 6 April 2008
Left my soul down by the sea
It was with a heart as heavy as my over-filled rucksack that I bade farewell to Damian and Raggy and set foot alone back into snow-filled landscape after a bustling week in Tromso. I reside here still with natural buzz in tow since being treated to a heady midnight spectical. After 4 nights of frosty and ultimately disappointed noses peering out at the unfilled night sky, my Tromso dream became a reality. I was beckoned mid nature-call with the news that she had arrived, and after a short, shoeless sprint I was sock-deep in the snow viewing the constantly folding wispy-green curtain of her majesty, the northern lights.
Ace.
Prior to this we visited the world's Northern-most brewery, the world's northern most bishopric and the world's northern most Burger King, sampled good coffee, fine ales, climbed a mountain, bum-sledged through icy streets, endured the best and worst (cabin floor, freezing, with cold) nights sleep, sold cigarettes, learnt, slept and learnt some more.
Tromso is an island only in geographical terms, it welcomes strangers and has care only for the moment. The mountains here are not statues but playgrounds. And I shall play.
Drifty Mcsnowdrift.
Ace.
Prior to this we visited the world's Northern-most brewery, the world's northern most bishopric and the world's northern most Burger King, sampled good coffee, fine ales, climbed a mountain, bum-sledged through icy streets, endured the best and worst (cabin floor, freezing, with cold) nights sleep, sold cigarettes, learnt, slept and learnt some more.
Tromso is an island only in geographical terms, it welcomes strangers and has care only for the moment. The mountains here are not statues but playgrounds. And I shall play.
Drifty Mcsnowdrift.
Wednesday, 2 April 2008
North
From the foot of the Bodo mountains we tucked our tired bodies into our latest shelter rented from a friendly old Norwegian man who gave us his best cabin for the cheapest price. Before long it was time to explore and after a brief foray to a hidden beach I collected Damian and we set foot into the green forests behind us (see 'Rambo' for reference).
Our feet then set straight into a german WW2 bunker, seemingly untouched for a while as the grass grew thickly round the edges and snow lay in its base. Further exploration uncovered douzens of bunkers, trenches and pill boxes littered in between the dense forest. The intended stroll had transformed into historical treasure trove.
Back at the cabin for a toast or two to the stunning views (see photos, soon) before heads down and early rise for Bodo - Narvik - Tromso coaches up the E6 through snow-brushed Lord of the rings scenery. This place is expensive, but worth every Kroner for the lush views that left us all happily silent.
Tromso parties like its 1999, and my 1st couchsurf went really well, this pm we plan to don the cable car for further views across this Northern island and beyond.
These boots were made for walking.
The drifter.
Our feet then set straight into a german WW2 bunker, seemingly untouched for a while as the grass grew thickly round the edges and snow lay in its base. Further exploration uncovered douzens of bunkers, trenches and pill boxes littered in between the dense forest. The intended stroll had transformed into historical treasure trove.
Back at the cabin for a toast or two to the stunning views (see photos, soon) before heads down and early rise for Bodo - Narvik - Tromso coaches up the E6 through snow-brushed Lord of the rings scenery. This place is expensive, but worth every Kroner for the lush views that left us all happily silent.
Tromso parties like its 1999, and my 1st couchsurf went really well, this pm we plan to don the cable car for further views across this Northern island and beyond.
These boots were made for walking.
The drifter.
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