I’m getting into the Christmas spirit – this’ll be my first Christmas in the UK in more than ten years. I’ve been enjoying the decorations when I’ve been out and about. The most amusing so far was this reindeer. It’s got its tail up, so presumably it’s about to poop!
There are some lovely wreaths as well. Like the reindeer, this was in the Folly – a gentleman’s residence built in 1679 – now a museum and coffee shop. Very cosy!
But I wanted to carry on my advent crown tradition – though I rarely stick to the Norwegian purple candles. I found these lovely nisse candles online and couldn’t resist.
After days and days of rain, I woke last Saturday to one of those beautiful wintery days when the fields are pale with frost and the low sun glows golden over the world. Triar and I set out to walk along Watery Lane, which as you can see, lives up to its name.
Watery Lane runs between two, mossy dry stone walls and is lined by trees, which were mostly bare, though the floor of the lane was thickly strewn with fallen leaves.
We turned past the barns onto Lodge Lane and as we descended towards the road, a farmer drove by in his tractor. To my surprise, he grinned and waved cheerily as he passed, which improved my day even more.
I had asked my parents to take me to a garden centre. I wanted to grab a bit of Christmas spirit before the end of my time off, so they took me to Holden Clough near Clitheroe. Having previously visited Stephen H. Smith’s Garden Centre in Otley, which was filled with baubles and tinsel, like a series of Christmas grottos, Holden Clough was distinctly up-market, but cheery nonetheless.
Tuesday was another fine day and Triar and I walked through Settle, which by now, had a few decorations of its own.
We then headed up Constitution Hill and along the aptly named Highway, which runs along the side of the valley with views over Ribblesdale.
Dad took me to look at a car on Wednesday. It was an X3 like the one I had to leave behind in Norway, but I took it for a test drive and although the engine sounded sweet, the steering was behaving very oddly. I suggested I would go back and test drive it again, once they’d fixed the tracking (which was his theory as to what the problem was) but was told the car wouldn’t be fixed up until someone bought it. As I was unwilling to buy a car that I wasn’t certain would be fixed by the proposed changes, I decided to pass. On Thursday, I had planned to have a nice, easy drive to Dumfries before starting work on Friday, but having found another X3 for sale in Glasgow, I took a detour there to look at it and this time, I decided to go for it. It went for its MOT yesterday and will be serviced next week and hopefully, I will collect it next weekend.
Yesterday was my first day in my new job. I met my new boss, K (though she corrected me to line manager when I asked) who helped me with getting set up on my new computer and together, we made a plan for the coming months. There are some courses I will be taking before I start to tackle the challenges ahead. There’s a lot more work with notifiable disease in Scotland than there was in my remote corner of Norway, so I’ll be learning how to tackle bird flu first and then TB. It sounds like there will be a lot to get my teeth into. I met G, who’s an animal health officer of eighteen years standing. He seemed very knowledgeable and also makes a mean cup of coffee, so I quickly felt at home. I also met L, another animal health officer, and she’s in charge of the stores. She has sorted out my new kit for me. It looks quite extensive and I am very glad the car I’ve bought has quite a sizeable boot.
There was also this rather scary looking hood, which I will have to use if I’m on a farm with suspected or confirmed avian influenza, until I get a properly fitted mask. After watching the horror show arguments about equipment in the UK during Covid, I’m very pleased that the agency seems to take my protection very seriously.
I went to Donna’s house after work. Donna and I met thirty years ago when we were both working in Stranraer, so it was wonderful to catch up and I immediately felt at home, which is just as well as I’m staying with her and her husband, Will, next week. My furniture is still somewhere wandering on the other side of the North Sea, but I’ve been offered a comfortable bed in her lovely cottage, so I’m already looking forward to going back.
For now I’m back in Yorkshire and Triar is asleep on my feet. It feels like a good start to the weekend.
At the beginning of the week, Mum, Dad, Triar and I took a short trip to Dumfries. The main purpose was to pick up the keys of my newly rented house. Donna, a friend who lives in Dumfries had kindly been to inspect it for me, but I rented it without seeing it and I wasn’t sure what to expect. Happily, I love it. The picture at the top of the page is a view taken from the back garden, where there are sheep in the field. There are cattle in front of the house across the road too, so I instantly felt at home.
The house itself is pleasant enough. Hopefully Triar and I will be happy living there, once our furniture arrives.
The logistics of moving in remain complicated, mainly because I have no idea when Pickford’s will bring my furniture. I believe that it’s in a container and waiting to come over at the moment. Presumably once it’s in the UK, I’ll be told it’s arriving at quite short notice, but until then, it’s a guessing game. Various possibilities have been under consideration. Mum suggested an inflatable mattress, but the idea of camping out to that extent, with nowhere even to sit, wasn’t something I want to contemplate. She also suggested buying a chair or sofa bed, which I did consider, but finding one I like, which would be delivered in time, was difficult enough without then thinking about the fact that I would have to go back up to Dumfries to receive the delivery and then put it together before I could use it. So as yet, all I have done is to book myself in to the Premier Inn for Thursday night this week. I start work on Friday, so will need somewhere to sleep the night before. If necessary, I can hire a van and borrow a bed and an armchair from Mum until my things get here, but I can (hopefully) put that plan into action at fairly short notice if necessary. For now, I’ll just keep my fingers crossed that Pickford’s bring my stuff within the next week or so.
Dumfries seemed to be an attractive place with a river running through the centre and plenty of shops. We were in a café in the town centre which had signs up for a writers group on Wednesday evenings, so I may go along to that. There is also a women’s walking group, which I might try, but best of all, Donna has invited me out for a meal with some of her friends on 7th December. Having moved to Finnsnes in the middle of Covid, it took me a couple of years before I actually met anyone outside of work. Jumping into the middle of a social life seems like a dream.
The Midsteeple dominates the town centre in Dumfries
There are still lots of things that I am trying to get sorted out. Sliding back into UK life after fifteen years was never going to be straightforward. So far, I’ve bought a new telephone SIM and number, registered to vote, set up a bank account, registered my rental house for council tax (which the landlady had to remind me about) and notified the electricity supplier that I was moving in. I’ve still to register with a doctor, buy some oil (the house has oil central heating) and get myself a car. I can borrow Dad’s car temporarily, but I need to buy one that is suitable for work and get it insured for business use. I am trying to weigh up prices and reliability, taking into account the possibility that the government might put more restrictions on older cars. Price is particularly significant. I have money in Norway, but the exchange rate with the pound is so poor at the moment that using a large lump sum seems quite wasteful. I am spending part of each day trawling Auto Trader and Car Guru to see if I can find something I like, which is ULEZ compliant, has cruise control and is still within my budget. Fingers crossed!
Anyway, I’ll leave you with a couple more photos I took up in the Dumfries area. The first is another taken from the back of my new house, the second was taken on a short walk down a country lane, when we drove out to look at another house that’s for sale. Thanks for reading and I hope you have a lovely week as we head into December.
On Saturday afternoon last week, Anna, Triar and I were due to board the ferry that would take us from Amsterdam to Newcastle. Having quit the AirBnB at ten, it felt like a long day as we waited in Amsterdam central station. Originally we had planned to return to Cafe Luxembourg to try more croquettes, but we were back to carrying our cross-Europe luggage in the rain and the idea of getting somewhere under cover, close to where we had to catch the bus that would take us to the ferry was quite appealing. We spent a good while sitting in Dunkin’ Donuts, stretching out cups of coffee before we moved to a gourmet burger place, which had the added advantage of having its own toilet. Given how many shops there are, as well as trains and buses, the general toilet provision in Amsterdam Centraal is entirely inadequate. Fortunately the burger was also delicious!
The view outside was also worth looking at, especially as an incoming rain shower spread a rainbow across the skyline.
At three thirty, we boarded the bus and by four thirty, we were in our dog friendly cabin on the boat. On the Stavanger – Hirtshals ferry, I think we might have been the only passengers with a dog, but now we definitely had company. The dog next door was crying and there was periodic barking along the corridor, probably in response to the racket of car alarms wailing away on the nearby car deck, but Triar was an old hand at boat travel by now and within a few minutes, he was curled up on a bunk bed, peacefully sleeping.
I had been concerned about coming through customs with a dog to declare when we arrived the following morning, but in the event, after a quick passport check, we were waved on through. A short bus ride into Newcastle took us to the station and before long, we were on the last leg of our journey. We had a rather chilly stop on Carlisle station, but I got to use the lovely sitting mat I received from my friends and colleagues at the abattoir for the first time. I can confirm that it works well!
It didn’t take Triar long to settle in at Mum and Dad’s. Though I had assured Mum that she didn’t need to buy him any food, he was soon chomping down on a packet of bacon treats and his usual dry rations have been partially replaced with some tasty looking Pedigree sachets with jelly. I guess any visit to Grandma and Grandad’s will always result in being spoiled, at least a bit.
Having been incredibly fortunate with the weather for both our ferry crossings, a storm hit on the Tuesday that blew down a tree on the railway line, delaying Anna’s homeward travel, and shut off the electricity for a few hours. I arrived back from dropping Anna off in Skipton to find the house in near darkness. Much as I love candlelight, I prefer to have other options, so I was very glad when the lights came back on, just after ten.
As for the start of my new life in Scotland, things are gradually falling into place. I have rented a house, which I haven’t seen yet, but which will give me a bit more time to find somewhere to buy. I’ve looked at cars, but because new taxation is being brought in that punishes those with older cars if they need to drive into cities, I am going to have to save up to get a newer car than a direct replacement for my beloved, ten year old BMW. In the meantime, Dad will let me use his car. We’ll see how that goes. My intention is to come down most weekends for now, but if Mum and Dad need it back, I may have to come up with a different solution.
I’ve got a UK phone now, though as yet, I haven’t used it at all. And I’ve ordered a refurbished laptop from a shop in Skipton. Writing this block or e-mails is possible on my iPad, but everything else has to be done on paper right now.
Anyway, after days of rain, yesterday morning I woke up to one of those beautiful golden mornings, when the sunrise is softened by low lying mist and the tops of the black winter trees stand graceful in the morning light.
Today the rain is hurling itself against the window again, but it’s cosy inside. Mum and I started making the Christmas pudding on Thursday. The mixture is in the fridge and should be maturing nicely. We’ll cook it tomorrow. I’ve also sent off for some candles for an advent crown and they’re winging towards me as I write. Next week, I’ll be back in Dumfries and I’ll see the house that will be my home for the next few months. I’m feeling optimistic about what’s coming next. See you next week.
It was wonderful to catch up with a few people when I was in the Stavanger area again. I missed seeing my friend Lynn when I was down in at the end of August and we met up for coffee in Sandnes. Then my ex-boss Guro got in touch, so we went for a short walk together and ate delicious pumpkin soup that she brought. Guro also works for Mattilsynet in animal welfare and health, so it was interesting to compare notes about the tiny office in Finnsnes, compared to the much larger scale operation in Sandnes where she works.
We also celebrated Charlie’s birthday, on the 6th November, with food and cake.
It was lovely to catch up with people and also to eat cake, but most of this blog is going to be about our journey, and in particular about Triar. Back when he was younger, we worked hard trying to get him used to doing different things. We took him to the Christmas Marker in Egersund to get him used to crowds and into Stavanger on the train to dog-friendly coffee houses, where he learned to lie under the table while we ate.
But for the past three years, he’s lived a much more isolated life. Occasionally he went into eateries with us, but he never really settled and it was too inconvenient and expensive to be worth pursuing. The nearest train was a two hour drive away in Narvik and somehow, we never got round to taking him on the fast boat to Tromsø.
So I was interested to see how he would cope when he was thrown in at the deep end. The first leg of our journey was on the Fjord Line ferry that goes from Stavanger to Hirtshals in Denmark. We had a dog-friendly cabin, which was very comfortable. Fortunately, the weather could not have been much better and within minutes of boarding, Triar was feeling very relaxed.
Though I woke up a few times to find the boat gently rocking, Triar slept right through the night and seemed very cheery as we arrived in Denmark.
We had booked a taxi for 08:30 to take us from the dock to the railway station, but when I called the taxi firm, they said they had the booking marked for 09:00 and couldn’t get there sooner. Fortunately, there was a bus available, which we managed to hail, just as it was about to leave. We asked the driver whether we could bring the dog on board and he said of course we could.
Triar was such a good boy on the bus that the driver climbed out as he dropped us off to meet him properly. Triar can be a bit stand-offish with new people, but when the driver got down to his level and held out his hand, Triar did go up to him.
Soon we were on the train on the way to Hamburg, changing at Lindholm and Fredericia. We had a ticket for Triar, but the rules said that he had to stay on the floor. We had brought along some of his favourite toys and a chewy stick that Charlie had bought him. I was delighted to see how quickly he settled in.
Between Lindholm and Fredericia, he spent a good long spell chewing:
The Danish trains were very comfortable. On the last (and longest) leg of our journey, he was showing some signs of restlessness, but by the time we arrived in Hamburg, I was feeling very proud of how well he was coping.
The last leg was in a taxi, where he behaved impeccably, sitting at Anna’s feet on the floor. Indeed, he was much calmer than the taxi driver who, as well as making good use of his horn, ended the journey shouting at a woman who complained because he was blocking the cycle path outside the hotel.
Fortunately, the next leg of our train journey was a little shorter. I was thrown for a moment in the morning when I received an email with the words “Journey is cancelled” in large letters across the top. Fortunately it was only from Deutsche Bahn to say that the second train of the day, between Osnabrück Hbf and Amsterdam Centraal was not running. I had panicked for a moment, thinking it might have been the ferry crossing. Here Anna demonstrated the level headedness that had made me so glad when she accepted my invitation to come on this trip. Within moments, she had found information about alternative trains and we arrived in Amsterdam only half an hour later than originally planned.
Triar was mostly a star on the train. A lady with a toddler asked whether it would be okay for her daughter to be introduced to him. He has always been good with children, having spent his earliest days as a puppy with Wivek’s youngest daughter, Tiril, loving and hugging him regularly. Anna carefully controlled the situation, making sure Triar was sitting quietly and offering him food as the tiny girl stroked him quietly and gurgled with pleasure. Her mum made very sure her daughter was gentle and the whole thing went off very well. Triar seemed to enjoy it too.
Unfortunately, he did slightly blot his copybook a little later. Up until this point, he had remained perfectly calm, not moving a muscle, even when various guards came and stood right next to his head in their shiny black boots to inspect our tickets. But a woman came and stood right in front of him, and unlike the guards, she stared straight down at him. For the first and only time on our long journey, he stood up and lunged towards her, letting out a loud bark. Unsurprisingly, she quickly scurried away. I felt frustrated that we hadn’t controlled the situation better, but he had been so good up to this point that I hadn’t been expecting it. To my surprise, the woman with the baby girl still left her on the floor quite close to him and though we kept him on a fairly short lead, he settled back down and was well behaved for the remainder of the journey.
The last leg out to the AirBnB we had booked was on a jam-packed tram. Anna lifted him onto her knee and despite the crush of noisy people all around him, he lay in her arms and went to sleep.
All in all, the trip has gone very well so far. Though Triar looks incredibly sweet – so many people smile when they see him – he has a fairly typical Kooiker nature in that he can be wary of people he doesn’t know. We’ve been very isolated in our little snow-bound house and I’m going to contact a local trainer as soon as we get to Settle because we need to work again on his socialisation, both with people and with other dogs.
Most people probably saw a wonderfully calm, well behaved dog. I know I would have been impressed if I’d seen him as a stranger’s pet. I’m always impressed to see a relaxed dog on public transport. But that single moment with the lunge and the bark was a reminder of how quickly things could potentially go wrong. He’s never bitten anyone, but barking and lunging is alarming, particularly to anyone who’s scared of dogs.
We spent yesterday walking around Amsterdam in the rain, stopping in a cafe to eat some traditional Dutch kroketter. I asked the restaurant owner if we could bring a dog in and he smiled and said that if it was a cute cuddly dog, it was welcome to come in.
Here he is, under the table. I think he probably qualified, though fortunately none of the waiters put his cuddliness credentials to the test. He loves family cuddles, but there are limits!
I would love to come back to Amsterdam for a longer holiday. It’s a very attractive city with its canals and distinctive town houses.
We also completed an essential task yesterday. Triar had to go to the veterinary clinic and take a worming tablet before he enters the UK. I think the vet was impressed with our organisational skills as we arrived with a lump of pâté wrapped in cheese and the tablet was very quickly dispatched. I was also relieved his microchip was still working. It was unlikely it would fail, just at this crucial moment, but if it did, it would be potentially disastrous. We’ve travelled from Norway, through Denmark and Germany to the Netherlands without any kind of passport check, but if Triar isn’t allowed into the UK, we couldn’t take him back to Norway either as the same, stricter rules apply in both places..
This evening we will set off on the last leg of our long journey. An overnight ferry will take us to Newcastle and so tomorrow, assuming all goes well with the UK customs, Triar and I will be starting our new life in the UK. I hope you’ll join us on our new adventure.
Another emotional week, this week. If you’ve been following for a while, you will understand why I was nervous of handing over the house, more specifically the cleaning. Shirley, knowing all that history, volunteered to come and help me and was absolutely wonderful.
As a retired nurse, I thought that if there were any problems, she’d be a great witness. She is also an absolute whirlwind with a mop. I think she cleaned three rooms in the time it took me to get the bathroom sorted out. She also brought along a kettle and delicious biscuits and we sat and drank coffee, gazing out of the kitchen window at the snowy bulk of Fagerfjell (Mountain) that rises up behind the house. It was lovely to have some pleasant last memories after the furniture removal debacle!
My last two days at work were lovely. I was on the early shift, checking the live animals both days. I had quite forgotten that Tuesday was Halloween, so I was especially delighted to come back from the lairage to find that Trude had made our office really cosy with Halloween themed decorations, sweets, and a cake.
A few last memories of the lairage: there were wooly pigs there on my last day. Like many of the pigs, they were fast asleep when I arrived to look at them, so I took a photo. Actually, I think the black one facing me in the middle might have clocked me, but it’s a typically peaceful scene from the pig pens, albeit with extra wool!
There are a couple of bits of grafitti that have amused me over the years. Someone with a dark sense of humour has added a direction marker for any poor sheep in the «cold lairage». Fortunately, with all the sheep being Norwegian, they won’t have understood it if they saw it.
And there is a cheerier message on the back of one of the gates we stand behind when the animals come in. There’s not too much danger from a flock of sheep, even if they do run straight over you, but there are also big bulls brought in on a regular basis, and then this i very relevant.
Translated, it says, «You are safe here, Amen». A very reassuring message.
We had pizza together at lunch time and I spent the rest of the day showing Ingrid how to do a few last things. I also hugged almost everyone, which was lovely, given the restraints of Covid that were in place for so much of my first couple of years. I was also given some gifts, including a lovely pair of Målselv socks, which I can confirm are deliciously warm as well as very pleasing to look at.
The sale of the car to Kaj and later of the house, went through without a hitch. Both had originally been planned for 1st November, but as the house was ready before that, I handed over both sets of keys on the 31st and then drove to Tromsø with John. I had two nights in the lovely flat he and Yoana have rented. They’ve made it really cosy. I bought them a Nespresso machine as a housewarming present. Hopefully they’ll get a lot of use from it.
On Thursday morning, I walked through the snow to catch the bus that would take me to the airport. It was a beautiful day and I managed to capture a last photo of Tromsø as the plane took off.
It was a lot greener in Stavanger when I landed.
And of course, this lovely boy was waiting for me at the airport. It was wonderful to be reunited.
So now I am in Stavanger for a few days. Andrew came round on Thursday evening and yesterday and tonight Anna will be joining us. She will be coming with me on the next leg of my journey. We will take a boat from Stavanger to Hirtshals in Denmark on Tuesday evening.
And for regular readers, I have been asked to continue blogging by so many people that I will continue when I get to Scotland, so I hope you will all join me as I begin the next stage of my life as «The Vet Who Came In From The Cold».
It’s been a crazy week! It started well, with me returning to work and feeling much more like my normal self. I’ve a couple of cases I have to complete or pass on and I am working with Ingrid to go through as many of the semi-routine tasks she will be taking on as possible. She is learning so fast that I can see that she will soon outstrip me, which is wonderful as far as I am concerned. My aim was always to get the public veterinarian things running as well as possible and I had made a start, but I can see she is the ideal person to complete the process.
There were also two students in the abattoir this week. Amanda and Glenn are at university in Hungary (I think – no doubt someone will correct me if I’ve got that wrong) and are on the various rotations that usually come in the last year of a vet degree. Amanda is Norwegian but Glenn is from Ireland and they met at university. I haven’t been much involved with the students before – there are some most years – but as team coordinator, it was one of my jobs to ensure they completed the tasks they have to achieve.
It was great having them there and I was able to ramble on a bit about my favourite theme, which is creating and maintaining chains of information between separate teams within Mattilsynet and other agencies, in order to build up a kind of animal welfare map of the area. They seemed both interested and enthusiastic and told me that before they came, they thought Mattilsynet could be boring, but that they were impressed by how wide ranging and important the job we are doing is. As far as I am concerned, my job was done then, even before I ticked off the boxes and put my signature to the more routine things they had to learn about. Hopefully they will consider Mattilsynet as a career, even though they intend to start out working in practice in Ireland.
On Wednesday, my pleasant last week was severely rocked when the team from the removal firm phoned and told me they were coming that day and not on Thursday as planned. My objections that I was not ready were swept aside and I was told it had to be today as they had to be somewhere else tomorrow. Thank goodness for my wonderful colleagues. Trude immediately calculated an alternative plan for who could do what and told me I should go.
The call came in at twenty past eleven. I rushed home and quickly put the last few things in the dishwasher and switched it on. Most things were already organized, but there were a few last minute tasks. As well as the dishwasher, I had to pack clean clothes for the last few days at work and my ten day journey to the UK and I intended to go through each room to remove the last of the items which were to be left behind or thrown away.
On the phone, I had told them I finished work at three, so I thought I had a bit of time, but the lorry rolled up at one, before even the dishwasher was finished. They decided to make a start on the bedrooms while I worked in the kitchen. They were super speedy at dismantling the beds, not so good at wrapping everything up, as they were meant to. I took a picture of the half-packed van and on checking it just before I started writing this, I can see that my lovely light-colored bed bases, under and over mattresses have been put uncovered into the van. Given that the beds were the most expensive items and the ones I most wanted to take to the UK as they are made my a Norwegian company that doesn’t sell products in the UK, I am even more underwhelmed than I was on the day. They also put my electric keyboard in, unwrapped, but unfortunately I don’t have a picture of that.
They were also barely filling the boxes at the start, then when they came to the last room, they told me I had too much stuff and they were running out of boxes. I was booked in for ten cubic metres, they said, and was already taking up fifteen. I asked if it was likely I would be charged more and they said it was quite possible.
By that point, I was seriously starting to feel quite panicky. The move was already costing £6,000. If they charged me half as much again, it was quite possibly going to end up costing more than it would have done to replace everything. They were urging me to come in and decide which items were most important. This was in the last room, where I had actually already sorted everything out from the garage and other rooms, so everything in there was really non negotiable. Ignoring their urging, I walked away, found the Pickford’s e-mail, copied down the phone number and called them. To my relief, someone answered immediately. I explained the situation and he assured me he would find out what was going on and would get back to me. He also told me that he could immediately tell me that the information they had given me was wrong as I was booked in for twelve cubic metres.
I can see from my phone records that I called them shortly after three in the afternoon. Given that they weren’t meant to arrive until three and this was them packing the last of my stuff, you can probably imagine the whirlwind that had rushed through my house. The man from Pickford’s called me back half an hour later, by which time the van had departed. He asked me what they had told me when they rang to say they were coming a day early and I told him. Apparently they had told Pickford’s that they had called and asked me if it was okay to come today. I assured him that wasn’t at all how the conversation had gone. He also said I had been booked in for twelve cubic metres and the final load was fourteen, and that the extra was no problem at all. My furniture will likely be placed in storage until I can find a house, so he said he would arrange for the first month of storage to be free.
After the call ended, I sat down on one of the kitchen stools and spent a few minutes looking out at the snowy mountain and the winter trees, pulling myself together. It felt like a sad ending to my life in Fagerfjellveien. I had expected to spend one last night in the house and that had also been taken away from me, along with the unwrapped beds. I had messaged Shirley at quarter to three so ask if I could stay the night. She messaged me back to say yes, just before four. Abandoning all thoughts of any more tidying, I set out to Shirley’s house. Wonderful woman that she is, she opened a bottle of wine and fed me comfort food, then installed me in front of the TV to watch Hearbeat with a dog on my knee, before going out to a prearranged yoga class.
I spent Thursday (which I had booked as a holiday so I could supervise the removal company) sorting out all the things that had been left behind and trying to empty the house. John came after work with a friend’s trailer and we took the washing machine and some broken furniture to the refuse centre. Then after that, I made my way along the icy backroads to Konstantin’s house. He is cat sitting for Ann at the moment, but had agreed to give me a bed for the nights when I have to be up early for work the next day. I made myself a lovely curry and then went to bed.
Friday was another enjoyable day at work, carrying out the routine live animal inspections as well as tidying up a few loose ends . To my delight, Ingrid sent out next week’s rota and summarized the week at the weekly are Teams meeting. She is already integrating herself into the team, joining Trude and Konstantin in being efficient and really getting things done. Thomas also said in the meeting that he hoped I would come back, which was lovely.
Last night there was a party in Finnsnes. We had lovely tapas and Hilde summarised my time with Mattilsynet and presented me with a beautiful book with photos and descriptions of Senja. It was a lovely end to a mostly pleasant week and also a celebration of my time spent here in wonderful Troms in the north of Norway. And while this will be my last dispatches from the far north, I will carry on blogging for a while. I hope you will all come with me now on my new journey.
I was sitting in bed on Monday morning when the phone rang. It was just after seven and I was reading, having already been awake for a couple of hours: a regular occurrence in the past weeks. I had been taken out of the rota and was enjoying not having to rush in. It was Trude on the phone and I wondered for a moment whether someone was sick, but to my surprise, she asked if I had overslept. It took me a moment to understand and then I clicked. I hadn’t been taken out of the rota at all. I had been moved to Vet 1 position – the lairage. I should, by now, be in the lairage and half way through my inspection of the live animals.
Until a vet has checked the live animals, no slaughtering is allowed. My absence meant that the entire operation – everyone who works on the line – would be an hour late in starting. If that resulted in running over to the end of the day, the financial cost would be enormous.
Within a few minutes, I was in the car and then Trude rang again. Ingrid had arrived early for her shift and was going to start for me. Though I was relieved, my world still felt as if it was cracking apart as I drove in. On Friday I had discovered two other errors I had made. On Thursday, I had forgotten to put on the chain mail tabard which protects us from knife stick injuries as I went to the line, and only realised after forty minutes. In itself , each individual mistake could be within normal limits, but it was happening too often and the reality is that I don’t have the kind of job where there is much room for error.
Last week, I wrote “I am rationally aware that I am no longer fully functional, yet on another level, I don’t feel incapacitated enough to take sick leave” but this felt like the final straw. Even after a weekend off, I was too dysfunctional to work safely. It took me all I had to keep my voice steady as I called Hilde. With only two and a half weeks to go, and at the height of the season, it was the last thing I wanted to do, but I was genuinely afraid I would do something bad that couldn’t be undone, and so, this week, I have been at home resting.
Not that resting has been easy to achieve. The upcoming move is hanging over me all the time. Though I think most of the arrangements are now in place, there will be a lot to do in the next couple of weeks. Pickford’s are coming on Thursday to pack up my worldly goods and take them on their journey to Scotland. After that, I have to make sure the house is cleared and clean. Fortunately, due to Kaj buying my car, that will be less complicated than it could have been, but it will be a big upheaval, nonetheless.
I had a narrow escape with changing over my phone provider as well. Work have supplied me with a phone for the past three years and have released the number so I can take it over. Obviously, in the UK, I will need to get a new one, but life these days is so mobile dependant that I don’t want to set off on my complicated journey to the UK without one. It was only when I had contacted my new supplier, that I remembered they would have to send me a new SIM… to North Norway… in the post. It says it should arrive in 5-7 working days and I know it has been sent with ten day to spare. Fingers crossed it will arrive in time. And of course, with the unforced errors at work, I am worried that there will be something I have forgotten with regard to my move. So far, the worst thing I’ve done is to cancel my internet provider too late, so I have to pay a month’s notice which is frustrating but not disastrous.
Anyway, I will be returning to work on Monday. I feel less tired after my week off, although the problem with extreme brain fog, linked to forgetfulness, is that you don’t necessarily recognize there’s a problem until it’s too late. I’m down as Vet 1 again on Monday and this time, I have my computer at home and can double check things. So long as there’s nothing too complicated to deal with, it should be fine.
On Wednesday night this week, there was an aurora. I had been waiting and hoping the skies would clear, and to my joy, there it was! I stood outside in the darkness, watching those mesmerising rivers of light dancing across the sky. Another last, perhaps. I will almost certainly come back, but people who holiday here can’t guarantee seeing it, though I am told it has been quite visible over the UK recently, so who knows? Anyway, I didn’t get any great photos, but here is a last view of my little house, bathed in the emerald glow of the northern night sky.
I received a message on Thursday morning from my friend Shirley inviting me round for an evening of cheese and port. “Stay over if you want to” it said. Well, with Covid measures in the recent past, and moving up here during them, I’ve not been invited to so many parties in the past three years. Cheese and wine is also a fairly British institution and Shirley’s Scottish friend Linda was still over and so, mentally already packing my bags, I agreed immediately. What a fabulous evening we had. I arrived to find this wonderful spread.
Within minutes of arriving, we were in gales of laughter about something or other. It’s been a while since that’s happened too and I think it’s the first time I’ve felt so relaxed since I started planning the move. I wrote most of this yesterday at home, but am currently in a comfortable bed in Shirley’s basement flat. I will be going home today to do some cleaning, but will return this evening. Shirley is going to the cinema with her husband, Kai, but Linda will be here and there’s still a lot of delicious cheese left. It’s looking like a much more exciting weekend than I could have imagined.
I want to start with a quick update on a couple of things. Several people have asked me about the guinea pigs, so I guess I missed out on saying that Bowen, who cut my lawn throughout the summer, agreed to take them for his children. Bowen is from a farming background and is very good with animals, so I have no doubt they are being well cared for.
And earlier in the week, Kaj surprised me in asking whether he could buy the car. We have agreed a price and he will take it over on the last day before I leave. I was slightly nervous until yesterday as he hadn’t driven the car yet, but he took it out for a spin while I was in the meeting and seemed to be very satisfied. I can honestly say that I am delighted. Not only is it extremely convenient for me to have the car right up until the last moment, I also like both Kaj and the car well enough for me to be glad they will be taking lots of road trips together.
Yesterday was like some kind of dream, though it began with a nightmarish tone. I got into work and opened an e-mail from Hilde that asked about a case document that’s been sitting in my inbox for months. I had made some limited moves to follow it up, and had asked for some help, but should have asked for more, rather than naively believing it was something that it was all in hand. Actions should have been taken when it came in and weren’t and that was down to me. There was another case too that had gone wrong. Not entirely my fault this time, but there were things I should have done that again, I forgot. I am rationally aware that I am no longer fully functional, yet on another level, I don’t feel incapacitated enough to take sick leave. Hilde is fortunately so level headed that she is cheerfully dealing with everything, without seemingly allocating blame or changing her opinion of me as a reasonably competent person. That in itself, feels like a miracle.
But from a poor start, the day quickly improved. Some of Konstantin’s old colleagues from Latvia had arranged to visit the abattoir. Konstantin and I spent a few hours last week organising a program for them, which included a tour of the laboratory where they test samples of meat for various bacteria and parasites, a presentation from the Health and Safety Lead, a trip into the big hall where the carcases are skinned and cleaned, and a tour of the lairage, where the live animals are kept. Hilde came too, to welcome the visitors and to tell them a little about Mattilsynet. There was a lot of interesting discussion, ranging from the domestic animal population on Svalbard (almost a thousand dogs, but few other animals, in order to protect the unique environment) to how border control with Russia had changed as a result of recent hostilities.
As well as the official visit to the abattoir, Konstantin had arranged with a local Sami acquaintance to take a trip to see reindeer afterwards. I was due to work on the sheep line yesterday. Ingrid filled in for me while I was in the meeting, but I was expected to take over from her when the visitors left. I had hoped that the sheep line would be finished early enough for me to go with them to see the reindeer, but by the time they were due to leave, there were still too many sheep left. As Ernestas and I went to the line, we met Konstantin in the corridor and I regretfully told him that I wouldn’t be able to go.
However, I had reckoned without the generosity of Vaidotas and Ernestas. Having heard my exchange with Konstantin, Ernestas accosted Vaidotas when he arrived on the line to relieve me half an hour later. Between them, the urged me to go and say goodbye to the reindeer while I had the chance.
By the time I was ready, almost an hour had passed since Konstantin had left, but I drove out to Andsvatn where the reindeer had been gathered, hoping that I would still catch up with the party. When I pulled up, I couldn’t see Konstantin’s car, but there was a big people carrier there, so I thought they might have all come together. I couldn’t, however, see anyone. There were a few reindeer on the far side of a high fence, through a big, securely tied wooden gate. Konstantin had told me that Per Mathis (who owns the small, family run reindeer abattoir) had told him that visitors were fine, so long as they closed the gates, but this one was so heavy and so securely tied, that I knew I didn’t want to attempt it.
Just as I was about to get back in my car, another car drew up and a woman got out. I asked her whether she knew if Konstantin was still here and explained he and I worked at Mattilsynet and sometimes did meat inspection at Andsvatn. She didn’t know, but assured me someone else would be along shortly, who might know, and sure enough, within a couple of minutes, a youngish man arrived on a snowmobile. He told me that he had no idea if they were still there, but that if I walked round to the back of the building we were parked beside and followed the snowmobile tracks up the hill, I would probably find them, if they were.
By this time, another woman had arrived with her daughter. She had a rucksack with her, which she rearranged and filled with provisions while I watched and I wondered whether she was going to stop the night somewhere. She and I spoke a little, but I found it hard to understand her, or more specifically, what she was referring to. Still, she seemed to know where she was going and seemed happy enough for me to tag along behind them. We walked up the hill together, her with her snow poles and me in my natty red suede boots, that probably were not designed for trudging along snowy trails, but which fortunately had enough grip to serve me well.
It was a beautiful sunny day, and though they were distant, I could see reindeer in all directions. Many of them were on the move and they were calling to one another – a kind of guttural grunting that sounded primeval under the wonderful blue sky. I felt as if I was entering a kind of dream like state, such was my delight at seeing and hearing these wonderful animals. I was also aware that this was something I was unlikely to experience again, so I was taking my time, drinking it all in.
As we walked over the brow of a hill, there was a fence in front of us. Behind it, a few reindeer ran past and then a few minutes later, a couple more. There were reindeer in the field where we were walking too, but still they were distant and I found myself hoping that we would be able to get closer. The tracks turned left here and we followed them between two fences, where there were a few snowmobiles parked. A black and brown dog watched us from one of them, but made no move as we passed. Beyond them, I could see a high wooden fence with a door. And now there were reindeer much closer.
We reached the door in the fence and it opened. The woman and her daughter walked in and I followed them through. To my amazement, I found myself inside a high-walled wooden corral. There were people there, some working, some watching, as well as a few reindeer, though as I looked around, there was no sign of Konstantin and his visitors. Some of the men were wearing traditional Sami dress, brightly coloured tunics and hats with intricate embroidered patterns. Others were wearing traditional Norwegian woollen sweaters, blue with red and white patterns over the shoulders and top of the chest. An older woman wore a brightly coloured fur hat with small flag-like embroidered projections. Unlike me, everyone else was dressed suitably for the temperature.
There was a moment, a long time ago, when my parents lived in the north of Scotland. A friend visited me in the summer holiday and we decided to walk to the local pub, half an hour away. We pushed open the door to the bar, which was filled with people and chatter, and stood there as the voices dropped away and every eye in the pub turned our way. It wasn’t quite that bad, because many people in the corral were working and the reindeer were circling, but the feeling of being an unexpected stranger was not dissimilar. Everyone else here probably knew who everyone else was. Per Mathis might have recognised me, and perhaps one or two others, but I really didn’t know any of the men I worked with two years ago well enough to talk to or recognise, and anyway, they were busy.
But as I looked round, to my enormous relief, I saw a friendly face. Merete who works as a technician at the abattoir was there. She has been off for a long time with a shoulder injury and I had half expected that I wouldn’t see her again, but there she was, opening and closing the gate one handedly, a part of this wonderful extended family scene.
And so I stood a while and watched as the reindeer were sorted. The traditional Sami method for identifying reindeer is to cut nicks in their ears in different places. Each family has a distinctive pattern, though the reindeer’s ears were so furry that it seemed remarkable that they could see which reindeer were theirs and then capture them as they circled past.
Having caught an animal by the antlers, they would tug them over to one of several gates around the corral, each of which led to a different field. Some were injected with wormer, some were marked on their rumps or their legs, and then they were allowed to go. When there were only a few animals left, a gate was opened and the remainder rushed through. Another, bigger gate on the far side was opened. Some of the workers went out , selected another group, isolated them from the herd with a huge tarpaulin that they stretched out between them, and guided the new group into the corral.
And now there were so many reindeer that I could have reached out and touched them as they passed. How beautiful they were, and how wild, with their wary eyes and velvet antlers. I could feel a deep happiness building inside of me, that I was having the honour of witnessing this wonderful gathering. I began to notice other details, like the lavvo – a traditional wigwam-like sami tent – on the far side outside the corral. There must have been a fire inside as there was wood smoke rising from the centre of the canvas roof. There was frost beginning to nip my fingers, but I stood there entranced as the reindeer flowed past me, circling round the corral as they probably have done for hundreds of years.
But as the animals were sorted, and the number in the corral dwindled, I began to feel the chill of minus three entering my bones. Merete had gone away to find some entertainment for her toddler godson and there was no sign that she was coming back. Straightening up, I opened the door I hade come in through, stepped back outside the corral and began to make my way back down the hill. I hadn’t taken any photographs inside. This was a family gathering, and not my family. But I took a few photos as I walked back, though as always, when photographing wild(ish) animals, I regretted not having a camera with a zoom lens.
Still, despite the lack of photographs, I hope I have done enough to paint you a picture of what I recognise was one of those once-in-a-lifetime experiences: one that was all the better for being unexpected.
That wonderful feeling of deep happiness is something that will stay with me for a long time.
There’s too much going on and my brain has reached capacity status. On some levels I feel I’m still functioning, but I may not be a good judge of my own performance. My boss had to remind me yesterday to finish up logging my working hours for September. There was probably a mass e-mail earlier in the week reminding us, but I guess I missed it. My boss did tell me though, that I won’t get paid for any flexitime I have accrued. I’m glad she told me as it’s easy to build up flexitime in the season without really thinking about it. Now, on the odd days when I have the opportunity to go home early, I will grab them with both hands.
A few things are starting to wind down, but I am still dealing with three relatively serious cases, two of which I took on before I knew I was moving and one which falls to me as it’s something for which I have responsibility and I was the person on the spot when a serious incident occurred. It’s interesting that, even now, I’m still learning a lot. The incident was serious enough that there have been meetings with senior and specialised staff. It’s important that everything is done right, so it ends up being a team effort and not something I have to handle on my own.
It’s also interesting as it helps me reflect on my own performance. This and another lower key case have highlighted to me that, while I am relatively good at observations and recording visual information, I am much less good at drilling down when interviewing others. I think this is, in part, due to language, but it’s still something I need to work on. The good thing is that people can be interviewed later, so even though I have missed the chance to get first impressions and immediate reactions, it should still be possible to drill down and get most of the factual information.
Some old colleagues of Konstantin are coming from Latvia to look round the abattoir at the end of next week. Having discussed the visit with Konstantin, we will be highlighting health and safety. The H&S manager has agreed to come and give a short presentation, as will the managing director. Fortunately, Hilde had done some of the groundwork before Konstantin and I approached them, as we (well specifically I, as it was my responsibility) were quite late in approaching them. Now the biggest potential fly-in-the-ointment is that it has already started snowing, so the chance that Konstantin or I will have to go to the reindeer abattoir next week are significantly higher. The reindeer are mostly walked down from the pastures, which is much easier to achieve using snowmobiles. Usually Konstantin goes, but as his absence might leave significant translation difficulties with the Latvian visitors, it will probably have to be me.
Not that I mind. I looked up reindeer in Scotland, and see that there are some in the Cairngorms, which is quite a trip, but probably one I will make sometime. I might even drag my mum and dad along. Sadly, due to Covid, they never made it over here to the north of Norway. Perhaps I can still give them a taste of it without having to travel quite so far. I drove round the road where the reindeer abattoir is yesterday, and as you can see from the photo below, there had been quite a significant snow fall there.
There’s not quite so much snow at home, though it is snowing at the moment. I took a couple of photos earlier in the week, when the snow line was starting to make its way down the mountainsides. There are still cattle outside across the road. Even the domesticated animals here have to be incredibly hardy!
That one was taken from the front of the house, and this was out the back.
And this is how it looks this morning!
John has moved various items of furniture out, so now we have two rooms which are empty, or will be very soon. We are trying to keep the main living room looking as normal as possible until the last minute. It’s good for my mental health to be able to sit somewhere that still looks homely and welcoming. I’m tempted, with all the snow, to light the stove, but I cleaned it out really thoroughly, earlier in the year and I am quite reluctant to use it again. If it gets really cold towards the end of the month, I may have to, but it probably won’t get so cold before the end of October. I hope the people buying the house have planned where to get their wood. It can be difficult buying it in later in the winter, but it’s expensive and such a labour intensive job putting it away, that I haven’t bought them a load. There is some in the wood store, but nowhere enough for the whole winter.
I went home yesterday via my friend Shirley’s house. I met Shirley on the fast boat to Tromsø in October last year, when I heard her and a friend speaking English behind me in the queue. This was a rare enough event for me to accost them, and now Shirley and I are good friends. When I popped in yesterday, her friend that I met on the boat was over on this year’s annual visit. We ate toasted cheese and ham sandwiches and played a game and I have arranged to go over on Sunday, when we will go out for lunch together. Shirley doesn’t really drive, so it feels good to be able to do something nice for her. She has already offered me a bed for when the removal company have taken the last of the furniture, and depending on what John is doing, I may well take her up on it, at least of a couple of days. She is generous to a fault, so I hope this is something I can do to give back a little bit.
Anyway, I had better go now, but I will leave you with another snow picture. The combination of autumn colours and fresh white snow is arresting. Though I was rather dreading it, given how oppressive I found it towards the end of last winter, now it’s here, I still find it irresistibly beautiful. See you next week!
A Vet’s Life 