Lofoten Islands part Deux

THE MIDNIGHT SUN NEVER SLEEPS

ALSO TITLED ROBIN GETS SCREWED AGAIN BY FATE!!

It's disorienting, really. Having so much sun, so much insolation, so much light around you, makes life more interesting. You can ask for more hours in the day, but a little more sunlight can be all you need. Kelsey and I found this out the hard...or easy way when we would go out hiking for the day. Back below the Arctic Circle, the navy sky would slowly blanket its way over the mountain tops, signifying to head on back to the cabin. But here, so far north, a normal afternoon glow lasts at least until 10pm. So for us, we would keep hiking, thinking "we have TONS of time left!" as we would emerge from the bush, looking at our watches finding out it was 11pm. Tonight was one of those nights. We decided to go watch the "sun set" or rather, the point where the sun dips below the horizon for a few seconds, only to reappear again for another day in the sky. We hiked along the cliff's edge around boulders and sheep s*** to the point, for us, the end of the world. We watched in a calm awe as the mountains folded into sea, sinking deeper into a solid line, in which beyond lay the unknown world we came from. Blues gave way to pinks gave way to oranges gave way to nothing. The sky, void of clouds to interrupt our view, blanketed Lofoten in an endless sunset. We talked on about school, drunken antics, friends, and food, no topics left untouched or taboo. It was perfect. We waited for an end to the sunset, but it wouldn't quiet its' orchestra of colour so we left it to its final chords, content and happy with our journey. We've started to wake up to the fact that we're finally on vacation. With all the clutter of the city, as beautiful as they were, it's nice to finally have some nature time. After taking the long way home, over sand and water, we stumbled into our room for dinner. We've made a game of comparing the amount of light outside to what time we think it actually is. "10pm." No, higher. "11?" Higher! "12?" HIGHER!! "What is it?" Quarter after midnight. "WHAT!!?" Yah, I know, eh?

This is how the past few days have been. It's calmingly alien. If we had anything else to do, we would stress, worry, freak out. But the islands are calm. The sea is nurturing. The air is actually air.

Back before the trip even started, I hit the internet running, looking for signs, signals of what would make this trip "memorable". I like words, but I've always been more of a 'picture' kind of guy. Then came "Flickr". This is where photographers go to cache their photos, like a high-end Google Images. Type in the name and you'll get professional and stunning images of your key words. That's basically how I formed the trip up to Lofoten. Typing in key destinations, rumors of private beaches, mountain ranges, and elusive forests, things that perked my interest led me to find a small collection of places that I wanted to experience myself; and thus started our hiking epic through Lofoten.

We made our way from Reine in the south to Fredvang in the north, near Ramberg (not that that's of any impertinent detail to you, unless you LOVE Norwegian geography...you never know!). The "bus stop", ie. a sign with "BUSS" written on it, left us guessing which side of the road to stand on, as last time we tried to figure out Lofoten's elusive buses we ended up on the wrong side of the "street" and the our bus flew on by us, overlooking the two distressed backpackers flailing, hurling rocks and seagulls at it to stop. But fate was on our side (for this trip) and took us up to the mountains. Fredvang was a little clutter of red houses with a few boats bobbing nostalgically in the bay. We were surrounded by the mini Himalayas, brown and stubborn, but lapped by the Arctic Ocean, an improvement from their Asiatic twins. We stayed with an AWESOME family, with their hilarious German cleaning lady, cooky with her lack of English, assuming that German words would do fine as a substitute should she forget her vocab, also adding that anything bad was "eine catastrophe", regardless of severity or context.

The German cleaning lady, Sabina, offered to drive us at a break neck speed to the closest grocery store to pick up preserves for the next few days. Wasa crackers and Nutella, with some pesto and pasta, served to be the meals for the next few days. Needless to say, after a week of Wasa crackers, my bowels are treacherously regular. TMI? I think not.

We grabbed our bags and our rain jackets (a necessity in Scandinavia. Who knew?) and headed to Kvalvika, one of Lofoten's white sand beaches. We grabbed a map from the front desk and headed out. We walked, walked and walked past lakes, cotton flowers and sheep, getting deeper into the Arctic landscape, but with no resolve of the beach! We eventually came over a crest, holding our breaths in anticipation of our perfect beach and...AND..WHAT?? "There were no HOUSES in the pictures I saw!! WTF?" We came over the peak to see a beach lined with more red cabins. "This can't be right...let's go to the peak and scout it out." We hiked, following sheep paths, to the peak to see if we could apply our map to the topography below us. We were lost. We followed SOME path, but not the right path. We figured we had to back track to the next valley and we'd be there FOR SURE! On the way down, I earned a new nick name, "Ankles", as I had the unfortunate luck or celestial misfortune of tripping on EVERYTHING! I have bad ankles, this I knew before I started, but DAMN! I fell over everything, even things I couldn't see. The best was walking down the face of the mountain and having my foot slip UNDER a rock into what I could only assume was a cesspool of percolating 1000 year old sheep s***. It smelt like iron, and looked like...uhgggg. My kicks were in need of a serious cleaning after that hike. Defeated, we hiked back down to the road, only to discover the "Kvalvika - 800m à) sign 2 feet from where we started our assent. f***. Oh well, we know where it is then!

But the next hike was worth it! Kelsey and I took the back route to Kvalvika, avoiding the tourists and hikers to get an unabridged view of the beach and bookend mountains that framed it. It looked onto nothingness, only what I would assume is Iceland, or even North America. But from where we stood, all we could see was sea. After the last tour group hoofed it up the pass, Kelsey, Kvalvika and I were alone. We stayed there for two more hours, jumping around the beach, taking off layers as the sun came out and even thought about jumping into the water for a cool down, (we didn't, it was too cold for Canadians).Life seemed to stop. It was refreshing to have just a beach before us, no troubles, nothing. It was great.

We did a few more hikes over the next few days, taking us back to some other lakes, around mountains that would have imposed the Rockies, but kept it all low key. One day we didn't even leave the room. We slept, we read, and we ate chocolate. We had no plans, no expectations, just a day to rest but not waste. That evening, we hiked around the corner of the island to see the sunset with a lone cabin for company. It was an endless sky with a sunset that lingered at the corners of the earth. We came around to see the moon lit up like a lantern, hanging effortlessly above the craggy Lofoten range.

The next day we decided to take the midnight ferry to Bodo, opting to stay in a hotel for the day, resting, recuperating, and getting ready to head back down south.Kelsey and I made our way to Oslo for a few days, meeting up with one of her friends from a charity she had been working with. She gave us a killer tour of Oslo, speed-tracking us around the necessary sites and giving us the low down. She also had the best saved for first. We spent a good hour trying to find her apartment before our tour, looking high and low for 16A Svengate, asking postmen, 7-11 attendants, randoms, even screaming out her name. And by George, it was the last one that worked! Kelsey was up the street, screaming "ANE!! ANE!! I hope this works!" And out of the street level flat, a girl poked her head out of her window, "YES?" Funny world. OH and she had a 4 month old Border Colley puppy to play with. That was kinda nice too. Actually, it made my day. I miss my poochies and anything that'll take me back to having Echo (one of my dogs) act like a lap dog when she clearly isn't is just perfect.

What else can I tell you... Ah yes. This trip has been amazing. I love the people that I'm meeting, the places I'm seeing and the lessons along the way. I'm not sure what greater power is coordinating the lessons along the way, but I'm starting to get it ok! Karma is a swift mistress. But the fact of the matter is, is that material possessions are just that, material. Let them go, I'm thinking karma is taking things from me to have me learn a lesson! LIFE CAN SUCK BUT YOU'RE STILL ALIVE!!

Fun segway considering my iPod was stolen from me in the middle of the night. Ya, Norway of all places! The guy (I had conformation from the Spanish lady sleeping in the room who didn't think to stop the guy) got in through the door because the last people in the room at night didn't lock it after them. Greeeeeeeeeeat.

I was just glad that my life was still in my hands, my passport still in my bag, and the hope that this would be the last of the misfortunes. I'm guessing they work in threes: Jacket lost (but re-given), wallet lost (but re-found), iPod stolen (but re-bought?) . So ya. That was a fun one to wake up to this morning. I've spent two months in Europe and after all the s*** that's gone down, I still walked away with a smile. At 6 this morning, as the guy next to me was looking for his mp3 player and his phone, and I was scrambling to find my iPod, I was just...there. I wasn't mad, I wasn't angry, just "Aaaaaaaah f***. What else do you have left to throw at me? At least nobody's died yet, right?" Swiftly after that I ran and knocked on wood just to throw Life off with my superstition.

The Spaniards didn't seem to be that distraught, even though a) they left the door unlocked,and b) the wife SAW the b****** come in and take my stuff but didn't think to stop him. But I'll live. It was funny, my cell phone was lying in plane view but the guy didn't take it, adding insult to injury; "What? My phone's not good enough for you?!" But life goes on. Safe, passport and wallet in hand (locked up mind you) but yah. I'm assuming that's the signal that the adventure is coming to a close. It's been a good run, but I'm starting to get the itchy feet to return to normality. Adventure is fun, but only for a little while. Can't wait to be back with y'all!

Peace, love and a word of advice: LOCK UP YO STUFF!!

Much love from an ironically content Robin.