Sunrise/sunset: 05:10/20:22 Daylength: 15hr12min

This week started with dropping Andrew off at his new school. He has been updating me as the week has gone by and my opinion of the Nordic idea of Folk High School (already high) has gone up again. He’s ostensibly there to study film, but he only does that for eight hours a week. In addition, he has also to choose another subject. His first three choices were surfing, a walking group and racket sports. He got his first choice, so now he will learn to surf. In addition, he had to choose a second subject for Fridays and an activity. He chose learning the ukulele on Fridays and walking as his activity. It’s clear the intention is to get the students away from their screens and out and about, as well as socialising.

Half way through the week, they also had to make signs for their bedroom doors and Andrew and his roommate won a prize for “Most creative” signs. I was interested to see that Andrew’s was a Scottish saltire flag with his birth date in one of the four sections, and his birth place and the two significant places he’s lived in Norway in the other three, with an image representing each place. It’s a simple design and very attractive, despite the fact that he isn’t a natural at drawing. He’s spent the past couple of years studying communication and media and his creativity still surprises me. I was worried about leaving him there – what mother isn’t, when her child leaves home, but it seems like the school works really hard to make sure everyone is involved.

I also left Triar behind. In two months, I am going to have to take him to the UK. I think I’ve mentioned before that I have to take him on a ferry, as I can’t accompany him on a plane. Logistically, the hardest part of the journey appeared to be getting Triar from Finnsnes to Kristiansand. There are no trains this far north, the Hurtigruten boat leaves Finnsnes at four in the morning, and arrives in Bodø (where I could get a train to Oslo) at two in the morning the day after, which was an unattractive start to a journey that will take several days. Taking a plane from here to Stavanger, followed by a much shorter train transfer to the ferry at Kristiansand is a much easier option. I had tentatively asked Charlie whether he might like to look after Triar for a couple of months and initially he thought he might not manage. It’s quite a long time and he travels a lot, so I wasn’t that surprised. It was a lot to ask. But when he saw Triar again, and how quickly Triar settled into his flat, and crucially, after he found a colleague was keen to help when he was away, he changed his mind.

So when I set off to drive back, the car seemed very empty. I had been trying to decide which route I should take as well, and with Triar gone, driving up through Sweden was a possibility, so that is what I did.

Getting out of Norway was the hardest part. Despite the fact that I set off on Sunday, there were long queues around Oslo, including half an hour stationary in a tunnel, with increasing signs of a carbon monoxide headache. The Google Maps lady then told me there were long queues ahead through the city centre motorway and tantalisingly offered to take me on a route that would cut twenty one minutes off my travel time. It all went well, until I came to the road block. I did a U-turn, turned on my car’s navigation system, which is well and truly out of date, then tried to work out at each junction, which system was likely to give the best advice. I suspect it actually took longer than the traffic jam in the end and was probably more stressful, but I finally emerged from Oslo, then started looking for somewhere to stay. After a failed attempt to get into a hotel (lots of small places have no manned reception, and phone numbers to contact that go unanswered) I finally found a campsite with very comfortable cabins, and ended the day watching bits of Hunger Games on the TV.

On the second day, I crossed the border into Norway. There was a customs toll on the Norwegian side, but no sign of anyone monitoring anything. The road changed from grey asphalt to older looking red, but otherwise there was no great fanfare that I was now in a different country.

As I drove up though, it was interesting to compare the scenery with the Norwegian landscape we experienced on the way down. Here, there were no mountains and twisting roads, only miles and miles of trees with long straight highways, often with a 100km/h speed limit. Periodically there would be a break in the trees, with an expanse of water behind it, but otherwise there was little change as I covered the long miles from south to north.

On the second night, having found the campsite I was aiming for closed, I took my second choice, which was accommodation at the ski centre in Åsarna. This was something of a revelation. I chose to stay in the vandrarhem (hostel) rather than a cabin. It felt rather comforting – a bit like being back in halls of residence at university. My room was basic, with two single beds and a small table, but there was a comfortable kitchen and sitting area. Rather than eating out, I decided to buy something from the supermarket. I got something that I assume is traditionally Swedish. Kåldomar seemed to be some kind of minced meat wrapped in cabbage leaves. It came with mashed potato and gravy, so I thought I’d give it a whirl. I went outside briefly after I had eaten it, and realised as I came back in that I had achieved the dubious feat of making the entire vandrarhem smell of boiled cabbage!

As I drove north, the trees began to thin out and it started to look more like the kind of arctic tundra-like landscape, with sparser, stunted looking trees. There were reindeer too, one of which was a wonderful chocolate brown colour from the tip of its nose to its tidy little hooves. Sadly I didn’t get a photo of that one, but I did take a snap of one I came across later.

It was autumn up here too. The leaves were beginning to turn and the forest floor was ripe with berries and fungi.

Another cabin and two more days driving took me to Kiruna, which my phone told me was only four hours and twelve minutes from home. I stayed in Malmfältens folkhögskola, which was, in effect, another hostel, though this time there was breakfast thrown in and I didn’t have to make my own bed. It was a lovely little room with a peaceful view of trees (what else?) from the window.

So now I am back in Norway and wishing I had longer to visit Sweden, but there it is. On Monday, the estate agent is coming, hopefully to allow some people to look at the house. I should probably ask her how much interest there has been, but I guess I’ll find out soon enough. If there are people interested, there will probably be bidding within a couple of days, so then I will find out if the house is going to sell easily, or not. If it does sell, everything will be a lot clearer, if it doesn’t, then we’ll have to do it all over again.

And so, I’d better go. I have work to do, getting the house ready. I started staining the terrace yesterday and repainting the white paint on the balustrades. I need to finish that off, then tackle clearing the garage and cleaning the windows. Lovely views are all very well, but it’s much better if people can get a clear view of them.

So goodbye for now. I will leave you with another picture of a tree and a link to the estate agent’s listing for my house. Have a good week.

https://www.finn.no/realestate/homes/ad.html?finnkode=316713475