Category Archives: Holiday

Trees, Trees, Trees – A Whistlestop Journey through Sweden

Blog, Holiday, In Darkness and In Light, Life in Norway, , ,

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.

Andrew and Triar

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.

A lake near Vilhelmina

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.

A reindeer in Lapland. What could be more appropriate?

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

Gimme, gimme, gimme…

Blog, Holiday, In Darkness and In Light, Life in Norway, , ,

Sunrise/sunset: Up all day.

Anna and Lauren arrived on Monday afternoon as planned. There were a few things to juggle while they were here. Andrew’s oral exam was on Tuesday and he had a concert on Wednesday evening, when he would be playing piano. Brownie the guinea pig also had a lump under her chin, which I had hoped would be seen on Monday, but the earliest they could fit her in was Thursday. And I was working Wednesday, but I hoped we would fit a few other things in and the end of the week would be clear.

We decided to meet up with Andrew after his exam and have a picnic lunch out in nature. Given that the weather wasn’t entirely favourable, we walked up to a lake where there was a wooden shelter, but even there, the wind was blowing in straight off the water and though we managed lunch it wasn’t a day to linger. When we got back to the car, I asked whether everyone wanted to go home, or whether they would like a tour to see some of Senja and the consensus was that they would like that. Anna had asked the evening before whether I knew somewhere there might still be snow, as Lauren had never really seen any proper snow. As we drove across Senja, it struck me that the most likely place might be on the road to Skaland. There is a tunnel, right through a mountain, and to get to it, you drive high up to a bowl where there is a small lake surrounded by steep peaks on three sides. Most of the way up, everything was dauntingly green, but I could see the summits were still snowy and, to my pleasure, though there was not a complete covering, the lake was still mostly frozen. The mountain tops were wreathed in clouds and the bare trees made a kind of sepia wasteland that, if not a classic winter wonderland, was certainly distinctly arctic, given that it was the middle of June.

As you can see from this second photo, the melting ice was still very thick in places.

Having taken photos, we got back in the car. I didn’t want to drive much further, but Anna suggested we should go through the tunnel to the other side of the mountain. It was worth it to see the contrast. Everything here was green, though the mist still shrouded the peaks.

On Wednesday, I had to work and on Thursday, I took Brownie to the vets. The lump, which I had suspected might be a benign fatty lump, turned out to be an abscess. The vet lanced it and gave me antibacterials to give her. With hindsight, a surgical approach might have been better than lancing, but for now, I’m giving the medicine and trying to keep the hole open so it doesn’t refill.

With a clear weekend ahead of us, I was looking forward to Friday. I went to bed and went to sleep, only to be disturbed at midnight by Anna knocking on my door. Sorry to disturb, she said, but Andrew was having an asthma attack and was struggling to breathe. There are some words that, as a mother, certainly wake you up quickly. I made a very quick assessment (concerningly wheezy: still pink) threw my phone at Anna, asked her to call the legevakt (emergency doctor’s clinic) and got dressed. There was no reply from the legevakt, so I bundled Andrew into the car and broke the speed limit as I drove into Finnsnes.

I managed to stay surprisingly calm. I guess several years of working in emergency and critical care back in the UK has had an effect. They hooked him up to a machine, and when I saw his oxygen sat. was 87 (ideally it should have been between 97 and 100) I merely commented that it was a bit low. They hooked him up to a nebuliser and gave him ventolin (which acts to open up the airways) twice, but even then, his oxygen levels were still less than optimal and his heart rate was much higher than it should have been. He also had a temperature.

The doctor was very good, at least. Having listened to Andrew’s lungs, he made a tentative diagnosis of pneumonia. There was then discussion about whether Andrew would have to go to Tromsø or whether he could be treated locally. By now, it was around 4am and if Andrew was transferred to Tromsø in an ambulance, there was no way I would be fit to drive behind them, so I was very relieved when we were told he would be kept in overnight in a short-stay unit in Finnsnes and x-rayed there in the morning. I left him in a very pleasant single room with a very attentive nurse and a nebuliser on the stand at the side of the bed. He was also given penicillin V and prednisolone tablets, and was already looking significantly better than he had when we arrived.

I drove home and slept briefly and he called me at quarter to ten to say he could go home. Friday was a write off. We had intended to go to Polar Park to see the animals, but it wasn’t only Andrew who needed a day of recovery. Yesterday, John took Anna and Lauren to Tromsø, while Andrew and I stayed at home. Unfortunately, I seem to be coming down with whatever virus it was that triggered Andrew’s pneumonia, though I am hoping the effect on me is a bit less dramatic. I think John, Anna and Lauren might make it to Polar Park today, but I won’t be going with them. If I rest plenty, I might be well enough in time to return to work on Tuesday! Ho hum!

And if, at the end of all that, you’re still wondering about the title, last night, shortly after midnight, we had a visitor in the garden. I heard him when I went to bed as he was so close to my window. I went through and told Anna and Lauren, and so Lauren, on the second last day of the holiday, was introduced to a moose after midnight.

Passing Through

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This is going to be something of a scattergun post. I’m sitting in the SAS lounge in the international area of Oslo Airport, though not in the true inner sanctum of the Diamond and Gold cardholders. I bid for an upgrade (it seems several airlines do this now) and got it for my Oslo – Bardufoss flight. As upgrading that flight was cheaper than upgrading the Manchester – Oslo flight, I thought I’d be limited to the domestic lounge, but cheekily tried the international one and, to my surprise, was waved on through. There’s unlimited food in here, so with nine hours to kill, it’s probably cheaper than paying for a couple of meals and drinks.

Anyway, most of this post will be photographs from my holiday. I don’t have my computer, so I’m not going to type much, but I hope you enjoy a whizz through of a walk along Water Lane and a tour of Skipton Castle.

Firstly a walk with my dad. It was a gorgeous evening and we wandered across green fields and over stone stiles to get to the lovely, shadowed Water Lane.

There were birds singing in the trees, and though we didn’t see them, I stopped to identify some of them using the Merlin birdsounds app. There were chaffinches, blackbirds and a robin, which I wouldn’t have known without the app. I recommend downloading it, if you’ve ever wondered which bird was singing.

We left Water Lane and turned onto Lodge Road. So many flowers, though as a vet, I definitely wouldn’t recommend making hay or silage with all those buttercups.


Skipton Castle was interesting. There are very few ancient buildings in Norway, due to the custom of building using wood. I love exploring old, stone buildings, especially in summer, when the thick walls and small windows make for cool, shady protection from the sun.

We stopped for a very English cup of tea in the Castle grounds. With hindsight, I should have stuck to plain Yorkshire Tea. Instead I plumped for Chai tea. I think there was a bit too much water for the single teabag…

Add in a book fair:

And some Elderflower Cordial (beside attractively presented bird and insect supplies) in the garden behind the Victoria Hall, where the book fair was held…

…I’ve really had a very pleasant week.

Afternoon Tea in Langcliffe

Holiday, Travel, , ,

I thought I’d share a few photos from yesterday. Mum, Dad and I walked from Settle to Langcliffe, where we had afternoon tea in the village institute. I felt I was wandering through a James Herriot book!

There were flowers everywhere.

Dry stone walls scaled the heights of the fells, we heard the lambs bleating for their mothers and we looked down over stone barns and tiled rooftops.

The afternoon tea was a selection of homemade cakes. There’s afternoon tea every Sunday afternoon in Langcliffe. The cakes were delicious, though I should have got there earlier to photograph them in their full, delicious glory!

And to top it all off, there was a gorgeous Border Collie called Jess, slumbering under one of the tables.

Today we are going to a book fair in the Victoria Hall. See you soon!

Happy Place

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It’s been an interesting week. I’ll start with an update on the water situation. The temporary fix with the tank and pump failed on Sunday due to an airlock. Sunday wasn’t great, but the main concern was still that it might be tough and costly to get the problem sorted out.

On Monday, the representative for the insurance company came back and quickly fixed the airlock (this time I remembered to ask him how he did it. After that, he went off to speak to the owner of the house nearest the well. He called me back about an hour later. Apparently the other house owner had actually begun to run out of water on Friday evening, but despite having our phone number, he hadn’t thought to tell us. There was an ice bridge blocking the stream further up, which meant the well had gradually emptied. Our water disappeared first because our pipe was highest up. So the mystery was solved and (thank goodness) no major digging works were required. So all in all, a bit inconvenient, but several lessons learned about where everything is and what to check if it happens again!

We had an interesting case at the abattoir on Wednesday. Some animals were sent in that were thin enough to set the alarm bells ringing, not only in me, but in the abattoir workers that work with the live animals. It’s almost a physical punch to see animals that are so obviously struggling. It’s quite a big job when we start to document such a case. I took a number of photographs while the animals were still in the pen, though I was worried enough about them that I didn’t go in and stir them up. The last thing I want to do is cause any additional distress.

I asked the animal handlers to call me back when the time came for the animals to be slaughtered. That way, I could photograph and handle them when they were already restrained. I then went back and sent messages to Hilde and Thomas. This case was serious enough to warrant immediate follow up.

I came back to examine the animals as they were being brought onto the line. It wasn’t reassuring. Close up, the animals were distressingly thin. The animal handlers obviously felt the same as I did and while it was upsetting, at least I was doing my utmost to make sure we had plenty of evidence.

The farm where the animals came from has been on our radar for a while, but things had been improving, so this was a real blow. But there was a curveball on the way, because after the animals had been killed, it was discovered that quite a large percentage of them had very unpleasant looking lung lesions.

Having spent some time inspecting the lungs, it was obvious we needed to find out what disease this was. So having photographed the carcasses and the lungs (evidence of everything must be recorded) I sent off various samples to the lab. It doesn’t sound so much when I write it down, but with all the extra tasks in addition to my normal work, it ended up being a ten hour working day. I spoke to Hilde and Thomas after I had finished and Thomas had already set up a visit for the next day.

I had been planning to catch up on some paperwork on Thursday as Ann was coming in to cover my morning shift, but I really wanted to be involved in the follow-up and so, mentally casting aside the reindeer overtime fees calculation checks I had been sent, I asked Thomas if I could join him and he agreed.

Though the thinness of the animals had been distressing, the farm visit was actually somewhat reassuring. There were thin animals there as well, and though things weren’t perfect, various steps were being taken. The grass is starting to grow now, so some of the problems will resolve once the animals are back outside and major plans for improvement are under way. But now we also have to throw in the possibility of some kind of infection on the farm. Once we know what caused the lung problems, then we will have to work out how to manage the problem. That could involve anything from a new vaccination program, right up to mass culling. Either way, we will be offering whatever support we can to the farmer, who has already expressed himself as being very grateful for any insight we can give on what’s going wrong.

This is the kind of work I signed up for when I chose to be a vet. I know there are times when it is incredibly heavy work, but at the end of the day, this really is what I want to be doing.

But as you can see from the photo at the top of the page, I am now a very long way from all that. I flew into Manchester yesterday, into the chaos of a failure in the electronic passport system. Having survived that, I am now back in beautiful Yorkshire, where the summer is coming in. There are fat, healthy cattle in the field behind the house and everything in the garden is beginning to bloom. And now I can hear that mum and dad are up and the kettle is on, so I will drop a few photos here and then go and join them. Have a lovely week everyone!



Happy Easter

Holiday

Sunrise/sunset: 05:18/20:23 Daylength: 15hr04min

The snow finally seems to be melting faster than it’s arriving. I hope that you are all well and enjoying your Easter break, unless you are working, which I know some readers probably are. If you are working today, then I hope it’s quiet.

Best wishes to you all.


The Snowy Peaks

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Sunrise/sunset: 05:58/17:56 Daylength: 11hr58min

And so I have returned from my holiday. It was not as restful as I could have wished, but I did catch up with almost all of my immediate family in the UK. Quite a task when they are rather scattered.

I will start with a picture of our plane in Bardufoss, just as Andrew and I were boarding. I commented on it after my last holiday, but the contrast between Bardufoss and Heathrow couldn’t be much greater. I meant to take a photo at the end of our journey, but was so pleased to have arrived, I quite forgot.

We spent a couple of days in Winchester with my daughter Anna and her girlfriend Lauren and then headed up to the Peak District to meet my parents. A few months ago, when booking this holiday, I decided I wanted to meet up with Mum and Dad. Driving up to their home in Yorkshire seemed quite a long way, so looking at a map of the UK, I plumped on the Peak District, as somewhere that was in between Winchester and North Yorkshire and was noted for being beautiful. I knew I would be hiring a car and I was looking forward to gambolling amongst the daffodils and driving round in blue-skied, spring weather.

It was wet on the day we drove up, and the journey was longer than I had realised. I had hoped to be there to pick my parents up from the station, but they decided to take an early train and there was no way that, with almost two hundred miles to go, I could make it there comfortably by one o’clock, so abandoning any idea of getting there early, I decided we would take our time, given that the driving conditions were quite unpleasant.

At about two in the afternoon, Anna received a plaintive text from Mum. They had arrived soaking wet after quite a walk from the railway station. The inn where we were staying was all closed up until five. They had been allowed in to their room, only after a special appeal to the landlady and that was only because there were absolutely no cafes open in the village of Bradwell where we were staying.

When I had planned the trip, I had hoped that my dad would drive the two hour journey to join us, so that we would have two cars. What I hadn’t planned for were the Dire Weather Warnings. Far from the spring holiday I had been imagining, an Arctic Blast was to arrive. Understandably, Dad had abandoned the idea of driving. While our inn had received wonderful reviews, I hadn’t really checked out how much there was to do in the village. The idea that the inn itself would be closed until five each day hadn’t been part of my calculations either. Nor was the fact that it was Monday afternoon and the inn wasn’t going to be serving food in the evenings until Wednesday. What on earth were we going to do for two days in a village with nothing to do, with only one car and six people? How were we going to feed ourselves? Mum was also cross, it seemed, as she had been told I had received an e-mail with the information that check in was after five. I confess that, at this point, I began to think the entire trip was going to be a wash out.

We arrived at about four and spent the intermediate time driving around Bradwell and Hope Valley. It was certainly a charming place, with steep roads, bounded by grey stone houses and drystone walls, which were sometimes so narrow that the distance sensors on both sides of the hire car were flashing at me. I noted that there was an Indian restaurant in the next village. Potentially I could drive everyone there in two trips, but curry two days running didn’t sound too appealing either.

When we finally drew up in front of The Shoulder of Mutton Mum came out to greet us. It hadn’t really been so bad. They had been allowed into their room, which had been quite warm. The landlady had brought them milk for their tea and four pieces of cake. The room Andrew and I were shown to was lovely. Each of the rooms was named after animals and ours was The Hare. As well as a lovely view from the window, it was clean and fresh, with lovely touches on the theme of hares. Even the mugs had hares on them.

Better still, when we went downstairs, the landlord greeted us warmly. There was no food on offer in the bar, but if we would like to buy in fish and chips in the village, or order carry out from somewhere else, they would set us up a table in the restaurant and we could eat in comfort there. To my amazement, at no extra charge, we were provided with a table, plates and cutlery on both of the first two days of our stay. It was also realised that, because of the way the booking had been done, we hadn’t received the e-mail we should have that would have told us about the five o’clock check in. It was just an unfortunate oversight.

We spent Tuesday exploring Castleton. Mum and Dad went on the bus (a fifteen minute journey) and we joined them in the car. I should certainly have checked out what would be available a bit more before travelling. I am out of touch with opening times in the UK and had assumed there would be historic houses open to explore, but we were a week too early. Still, it was lovely wandering around Castleton and we did get some lovely food as there were several cafes open. Though it was chilly, it still felt spring-like.

With ever increasing Dire Weather Warnings, Mum and Dad decided to go home a day early. Though they were on the train, there was still a risk of disruption and they had to drive to get their much-loved cat, Sammy, from the cattery. The lovely owners of the inn even reimbursed their room fee for the night they didn’t use. I would absolutely recommend The Shoulder of Mutton. After an inauspicious start, we couldn’t have been made more welcome or been treated better.

Anna, Andrew, Lauren and I decided to stay on and risk it. Though I was wary about other drivers, the potential lack of gritting and clearing of the roads and the lack of my trusty winter tyres, I thought we would probably make it. We took a drive over to Bakewell on a Bakewell tart hunt and as well as buying a delicious Bakewell pudding (like the tart but without icing and absolutely delicious) we got to see some of Derbyshire as the snow began to fall.

Bakewell puddings in Bakewell

It wasn’t great driving to Lower Slaughter near Cheltenham on Thursday. It had snowed overnight and the road that led over the moors at the beginning of our journey was treacherous, with rutted slushy snow that made driving very difficult. We arrived safely however, and met up with my sister, Helen, and her husband, Steve. They came out with us for a delicious Chinese meal in Cheltenham and donated a big box of logs for us to use on the fire in the cottage we had rented. Anna and Lauren took a walk to Lower Slaughter, which they tell me was gorgeous, but it will have to wait until next time as I spent the day resting in front of the fire.

We arrived back in Norway on Sunday night, very late and slightly concerned as a girl beside us on the plane had been vomiting all the way from Oslo to Bardufoss. I hadn’t expected a lot of snow while we were away: the forecast had been clear, but there was a good deal more than when we had left. It was no longer possible to see the road in either direction when turning out of the driveway. Even in my SUV, the snow was too high to see over and I made a decision as I pulled out, that I was going to ask the neighbouring farmer whether they could come round and shift some of it. And so I did. He came around in the evening and cleared the snow from the driveway, as well as some from the sides of the road so we could out out more safely.

I hadn’t realised how much the snow had built up until he cleared it. There was a foot of compacted snow underneath where the cars were parked and now it is clear, you can see just how deep it is when the cars are parked there.

Neither Andrew, nor I picked up the vomiting bug, though both of us have been unwell this week. I guess that’s always a risk of travelling, particularly on planes. I must confess that the burden of the snow feels much lighter now. I don’t know how much I will be charged – I did ask, but the reply was enigmatic. Still, however much it is, it is necessary. Next winter should be much easier.

Anyway, my holiday is over for now, but I would love to go back to both the Peak District and Lower Slaughter, preferably when the weather is a little kinder. There’s also lots more blogging to catch up on, both with work and with a lovely gift I received from Mary, who reads this blog and sent me a Norwegian book with some lovely history attached, which I will write about in due course. I hope you have a lovely weekend and I will see you all again next week!

The Beautiful South

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Sunrise/sunset: 08:25/16:37 Daylength: 8hr12min

It seems like ages ago already, but last Sunday I took off from Bardufoss Airport and flew (via Oslo) to London Heathrow. Quite a change of scenery!

It’s been one of those magical weeks. One of the hardest things about living in Arctic Norway (apart from the weather) is that it’s a long way from the UK and family. It’s only a couple of flights, obviously, but there’s a limit to how many times I can manage it each year. So it was a big deal to visit Anna, partly for her graduation, but also because things are moving along in her life and I wanted to catch up in a way that just isn’t possible in a phone call.

In addition, when I visited Anna earlier in the year, my co-author for the Hope Meadows series, Vicky Holmes, had pointed out that Winchester was within relatively easy driving distance from where she lives. That time I hadn’t hired a car, so this time I had rectified that.

I confess I was slightly nervous about driving. The roads around Heathrow couldn’t be much more different from the roads around Bardufoss. The national speed limit in Norway is 50mph and there are no motorways within easy driving distance. I’m generally more worried about ice on the road than about what the other vehicles around me are doing. On top of that, driving on the other side of the road is always challenging, and so I had booked an automatic. Not having to reach for the gearstick (and banging your hand into the door) was one less thing to think about. I had declined the offer of paying an extra £50 for GPS. I feel that GPS in a hire car should come as standard in this day and age, but I was wondering whether it was a decision I would come to regret.

So when I arrived I was pleased to find they were offering to upgrade me to a car with GPS. Better still, they had moved me up a class, so the car I drove out of Heathrow was a nice little Mercedes A200. I guess some of the local drivers must have been mystified at the sight of me driving a neat sports car at 60 mph as I navigated from the M4 to the M3 via a short section of the M25, but I arrived safely at my hotel about an hour and a half later, feeling both relieved and proud.

Having endured the slowest check-in ever (computerised systems are great until they’re not) I went round to collect Anna and her lovely girlfriend Lauren. It’s odd, being on the other end of that “meeting the parents” situation. It didn’t cross my mind until I was on the way, that Lauren might actually be nervous about meeting me, but if she was, I hope the worry was swiftly put aside. We had sharing plates at Weatherspoon’s, which was a lovely, relaxed way to begin our few days together.

Anna’s graduation was on Tuesday, so we had arranged to go to Stonehenge on Monday morning, then we were to meet up with Vicky for afternoon tea later in the day. I hadn’t been sure that Stonehenge would be the most interesting place for Lauren to visit (I know Anna loves ancient monuments as much as I do) but I needn’t have worried. Lauren was soon reading up on the history and telling us fascinating information as we walked round. Stonehenge in the modern age is frequented by people keen to experience the summer solstice, but I was intrigued (and quietly pleased) to find out that, in ancient times, the winter solstice was actually more important. There used to be huge gatherings there, with people coming from as far afield as Scotland with their animals each year. What a tradition that must have been!

The stones themselves were fascinating, not least because they were occupied by a flock of starlings, who called loudly throughout the time we were there, except for on a couple of odd moments when something disturbed them. When that happened, the entire flock (along with a few ravens) took off with an intense rush of wings. They performed a few acrobatic manoeuvres in the sky, then flew back in and the chittering and chirping would start again.

A rush of wings: starlings and ravens take flight over Stonehenge

It was amazing to meet Vicky after all these years. Vicky and I wrote six books together, starting in 2016. We were meant to meet in Oslo years ago, but just before the trip, Vicky was diagnosed with cancer. Since then we have been through a pandemic and it had begun to seem likely we would never meet.

It turned into the most perfect afternoon. Vicky had found a lovely hotel in a village not too far from Stonehenge and we were soon deep in scones with cream and lively conversation.

As well as Hope Meadows, I knew that Vicky had been the driving force behind the Warrior Cats/Erin Hunter series. What hadn’t crossed my mind was that she had also been the creator of other, very popular, children’s’ books, but she looked at Lauren, who is studying creative writing, and diagnosed that Lauren might be of an age to have read Daisy Meadows’ Rainbow Magic series. It turned out that these were some of Lauren’s favourite books as a child and she confessed on the return journey that she had recently put some of her favourites into a box, in case she has children. So not only did I meet a friend I’ve been chatting to for six years without meeting, quite unexpectedly, Lauren also met one of her favourite authors. Here is Vicky, smiling that wonderful smile as she peeps out from behind the two enormous stands of afternoon tea!

Vicky Holmes and the Afternoon Tea!

Tuesday was the day of Anna’s graduation – another wonderful occasion. It was heartwarming to see her looking so happy. Her years at university couldn’t have been much more overshadowed, with the pandemic dictating that she spent most of her second year with us in Norway. It was lovely to see her with her university friends, and with Lauren. Charlie came too and it ended up being another perfect day.

Anna and Lauren outside Winchester Cathedral

The hardest thing, as ever, was leaving. Anna won’t be coming home for Christmas as she is working, so it could be quite a while until we meet again. It was also a tug leaving Winchester. It really is the most wonderful example of a small, cosy, English city. They were setting up the huts for a Christmas market near the cathedral and of course, I want to visit that now! Maybe sometime in the future, I will be able to walk among the weathered sarsens of Stonehenge on the winter solstice and visit the stalls in Winchester on Christmas eve, but all that will probably have to wait a few years. For now, I am back in Norway, listening to the rain on the metal roof of my house, with Triar snuggling beside me, and that will have to do.

Snuggly Triar

Holiday Reflections

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I thought I’d start with a few thoughts about my stay. Someone commented last time I was in the UK, that they were interested to find out what changes I’d noticed since I was last here, in 2019. I can’t say I’ve noticed too many, though of course my parents notice many things I haven’t, such as changes in the NHS. Prices have probably gone up, or portion sizes have shrunk, but that’s happened elsewhere too.

I think perhaps it’s me that has changed more, and that’s partly to do with the pandemic. Living in the north of Norway, along with general pandemic precautions, I am unused to being close to large numbers of people. In Glasgow I went to a Marks and Spencer Food Hall, which was (to me) heinously busy. I pretty much ran to the section I wanted, grabbed something, and rushed out. It was much the same when we stopped at a service station on the motorway. I escaped outside as soon as I possibly could. I also had a discussion with John about driving. He’s learned to drive in Norway in an area where there are relatively few cars on the road. He was watching the drivers on the A65 with a kind of horrified fascination as they drove in close convoys, with only a meter or two between each car.

Other things struck me anew, which I had forgotten because I hadn’t been here for so long. Nobody in Norway has a string light switch in their bathroom! Anna tells me one of her friends was mystified, trying to turn the light on when he visited. Then again, Norwegian houses seem to burn down quite often, which is probably because a lot of the electric wiring is DIY. That and all the candles, of course. Most of the taps (faucets) in Norway are mixer taps, so I was freshly frustrated trying to rinse my hands before the hot tap got too volcanic. Cash? There was consternation recently when the entire card network went down for one of the major Norwegian supermarket chains. I had to go and find an ATM. I’ve lived in Finnsnes for two years and didn’t know where it was. Lots of people still seem to use cash here. And for anyone who likes their floors to stay clean, Norway is the place to be. I still can’t adjust back to keeping my shoes on in the house. I kick them off at the door, every time.

Food wise, it’s been a frustrating holiday. I’ve been sticking to low fat foods throughout. Fortunately, there’s a fairly good selection, though it can’t have done my teeth much good eating so many iced buns and scones with jam. There has also been a glut of bacon and ham rolls, slathered in delicious chutney, but without butter. Eating out is difficult, though full marks to Rosa and Matteo’s Italian Restaurant in Settle, which made me a wonderful low fat Pasta e ceci – pasta with chickpeas – (twice) but there have been a few occasions where I’ve watched everyone else eating fish and chips or curry, and wished I could join in. Still, there’s much more choice here, even with my health limitations. I think I might get thinner when I go back.

What I would have liked to eat in The Golden Lion in Settle – sausage, mash, onion rings, peas and gravy
What I ate – noodle salad with mixed leaves, roasted courgettes, peppers, cherry tomatoes, sweetcorn, coriander and lime

Still, I managed to fit in a couple of walks this week. On Tuesday, Helen and I were driven over to Long Preston, and walked back to Settle over the fells. We also took a detour up to see Scaleber Force waterfall, though Force is a complete misnomer at the moment as there’s hardly any water in it. Still, it was a pleasant, 9km walk, taken early in the morning, before the day started to heat up.

The second walk was this afternoon, with Dad. We didn’t go far: just along the riverside in Settle itself, but I was glad to have the time together, before I have to leave tomorrow.

The Ribble as it runs along the back of Ribble Terrace

We’ve also managed a bit of shopping. Andrew took us on a hunt for Raven Forge in Crosshills. We almost missed it, as it looked like a unit in an industrial estate, but we stopped and asked someone who was working there, and found ourselves invited in to a wonderful display of swords and weaponry, from all kinds of games and films.

Weaponry display at Raven Forge

We also went upstairs in The Geek Side, a little gift shop in a rather magical arcade in Skipton, and discovered a veritable Harry Potter paradise.

Harry Potter merchandise in The Geek Side shop in Skipton

And if you want some sweets, you could do worse than The Dalesman Café in Gargrave.

An old-fashioned sweetshop in The Dalesman Café, Gargrave

But in the end of the day, it all comes down to the wonderful view from my parents’ garden. As the sun goes down, and the shadows lengthen on my last day in this golden oasis, I can only hope that it won’t be too long before I can return.

Wildflower garden with golden evening sunlight on the hillside behind

A Tale of Two Walks

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This week’s post will mainly be about two walks I took this week, the first with my dad, the second with John, but first a quick update on things I forgot last week when I was unable to use my computer. My health is moderately stable. Because of the likelihood of some kind of blockage of my bile duct, I have been eating a low fat diet. This has mostly worked, but any time I deviate from it, I develop pain. It’s nowhere near as bad as the pain before I had my gall bladder removed ten years ago. It’s only somewhat physically troublesome, but psychologically more so.

On the subject of submissions and publishers, there’s nothing much to report. Another couple of rejections, but with some positive feedback about my writing. Too commercial, seems to be the main objection at present, which presumably means it doesn’t fit the style they’re looking for, and not that they think it will sell too well. One editor gave more specific feedback that she “wasn’t sure [it] had quite the escapist, romantic tone [she was] looking for at present”. She did say it was well written though, so I hope that somewhere there is an editor who will fall in love with it. Commercial fiction within traditional publishing tends to fall into very specific genres at the moment and what I’ve written doesn’t fall neatly into any of them, so it was always going to be challenging.

I guess it would be odd to write this without also noting that John, Andrew and I have ended up in the UK at a time of mass upheaval in parliament. The astonishing events of the past week, with dozens of resignations within the Conservative Party, resulting in the resignation of Boris Johnson (though he hasn’t gone yet which, given his recent maverick activities, seems risky) have been something to behold. It has interested me, watching from Norway, that in the UK press at least, it has appeared that Johnson has been credited with handling the pandemic marvellously, based mostly on his roll-out of vaccinations. Watching from the relative calm of Norway, with its early lockdown and only marginally slower vaccination roll out, it seemed bizarre that he received quite so much credit, but of course I don’t know what it felt like on the ground. I can’t say I’m sad to see him go. He seems an unfit person to be in power, with his history of lies and profligacy, but he’s obviously one of those divisive figures that some people love and others don’t.

Anyway, onto the walks and photographs. I went for a walk on Sunday with my dad. After not seeing him for two and a half years, all the time wondering whether we would ever do such a thing again, it felt wonderful to be out in the Yorkshire countryside: a very precious moment together. We walked to Langcliffe, which is a village not far outside Settle. We walked past an old mill, then on up the hill to Langcliffe itself, which is even more charming than Settle, with its terraced stone houses, quiet country church, and village green. We called into the village institute, where volunteers were serving tea and cakes. It felt very much like being inside a James Herriot novel (though without the animals, obviously) which I found very pleasing!

View of Ribblesdale through a wooden farm gate

The second walk was a 7km hike with John. We drove to Malham, then went up the almost 400 steps to the top of Malham Cove.

On the top of Malham Cove is a limestone pavement. It’s amazing to look out over the valley below from this incredible structure with its weathered stone, the cracks between the rocks filled with ferns and tiny flowers.

Having reached the top of Malham Cove, and finding my second wind, we decided we would go on a circuit from the top of the cove to meet a road that went back down into Malham village. As we reached the road, we spoke to a couple we met, who had come up via Janet’s Foss, so rather than walking down the road as planned, we took another detour down the shady river valley, past Janet’s Foss (my Norwegian friends will know what that is, as Foss in Norwegian for waterfall) and back through some gorgeous green pasture, where cattle stood knee deep in grass.

We finished with a well deserved drink in the Buck Inn. A lovely end to a wonderful sunny day.