Category Archives: Blog

Wild Running

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

Sunrise/sunset: 07:51/17:14 Daylength: 9hr23min

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.

Slip Sliding

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Sunrise/sunset: 07:24/17:46 Daylength: 10hr21min

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!

Four and a Half Weeks

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Sunrise/sunset: 06:57/18:17 Daylength: 11hr19min

Time is getting short and things are starting to move. Quite literally in John’s case. While all this has been going on, John has been searching for a job. He has a girlfriend in Tromsø now, so he looked for, and found, a job there. He has now handed in his notice and will leave at the same time as me. Everything happened very fast, and almost as soon as he was offered a job, he and Yoana found a flat. This weekend, he’s hoping to move some of the furniture out. We had agreed, a while back, to try to keep the house in reasonable order until as late before the move as possible, because living in chaos is never fun, but moving Johns’ things out early, where possible, makes a lot of sense. The removal company which will take my goods to the UK will be packing my stuff, so it would be ideal if there as only my stuff left, to avoid any mistakes.

I feel I’m mostly there with organising my trip. I still have to check about transport to and from the ferries in various places, and organise tickets from Newcastle to Settle, but that shouldn’t take much doing. Other than that, I have to sell my car and get the house cleared before it sells on 1st November. John has agreed to handle the car sale, up to a point. I think that he is likely to get a better price for it, though we are short of time, so might have to start to drop it quite quickly. It’s a juggling act though as I will need to hire a car if it sells while I still need it.

My planned tasks this weekend include taking the car to a friend of John’s to see if he can put a bit of a shine on it and to sort through my boxes of Christmas decorations. Over the years, we’ve accumulated a lot and up until now, I haven’t really tackled cutting it down, but with an international move coming up, I really need to weed out what’s important and what isn’t. I feel like I should probably be doing more. I know there will come a time when we are going to have to get everything out of the house, and some of it will need disposing of. The removal men are coming on a Thursday though, so the rubbish dump will be open until six. If necessary, we should be able to take anything left over there before it closes.

Of course I am trying to juggle all this with doing my job as well. This week, there weren’t quite as many animals coming into the abattoir as we would normally expect during the season and so I managed to fit in an inspection out on a farm. I had offered to do it months ago and was starting to worry that I wasn’t going to get a chance, but on Thursday, I took Ingrid out and we did the inspection together. I must say, it’s lovely to have a native Norwegian along with me. It makes for much easier communication and as she wrote the “receipt” with our observations at the end of the visit, it was reassuring to know the whole thing was written in competent Norwegian.

As you can see from the photographs, it’s wonderfully autumnal here right now, but as I looked at the weather forecast a couple of days ago, I saw we were in for a change. There is snow forecast this week, on Tuesday, then towards next weekend. That means that, in addition to starting John’s house move and the other things, we are also going to have to put the winter tyres on the cars this weekend. Still, this time last year, I had the feeling we were battening down the hatches for the long winter ahead. This year’s winter is going to be very different for me!

Anyway, I think that’s it for now. I hope you enjoyed the autumn photographs and that I will see you next week! Thanks for reading.

Organisation and Offloading

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Sunrise/sunset: 06:30/18:48 Daylength: 12hr40min

My laptop is dying. It will be a sad farewell, because when I depart, I will leave it behind. If I wasn’t moving, I would probably buy a new one and pop this one on a shelf somewhere. It can’t be sent with my furniture, even if it was worth sending, as lithium batteries are not allowed. It’s heavy too.

If it was still working properly, I would take it, even though it will take me almost a week to travel by land and sea to bring Triar to the UK and all I take will have to be lugged around in the hand which isn’t holding Triar’s lead. I will have to carry his food and blankets and my clothes, as well as packing all my important documents, which you are also advised not to send with the removal company. Being attached to objects is pointless of course, but I have written six published books on this computer and have all my photographs stored for this blog and it will be quite hard to part with it, but part we must!

The season is in full swing at the abattoir. This years crop of lambs are coming in before the long hard winter sets in. Vaidotas and Ernestas have returned from Lithuania for a few months and the whole place feels fully alive. I’m still teamcoordinator and also the veterinarian who carries the responsibility for everything from animal welfare to hygiene, but now I am training my new colleague Ingrid to do all the tasks I’ve acquired over the last year. Hopefully, she will have a bit more idea what she is doing than I did as I felt my way through all the unfamiliar tasks after the season ended last year. She certainly retains information much better than I do!

Of course, I am juggling my job with all the logistics of an international house move, which is seriously interfering with my capacity to remember things. Last week I bought tickets for the overnight ferry from Stavanger to Hirtshalls. This week, I have bought the train tickets to connect up that journey with the ferry from Amsterdam to Newcastle. This will involve travelling first to Hamburg, where we will stay in a pet friendly hotel for the night, and then the next day, the shorter leg from Hamburg to Amsterdam. I also phoned a veterinary practice in Amsterdam and have booked Triar in for the Echinococcus worming treatment he needs before he can enter the UK.

The snowline on the mountains has been going up and down a bit. On Thursday morning it was minus three when I went outside to the car (and minus six at one point on the drive to work) but the temperature has risen again, and according to the weather forecast, will hopefully not drop below zero again in the next week.

This weekend, I need to get my car into shape. Selling it is the last big challenge and something I find quite daunting. There are instructions on the state highways website, which include a directive not to transfer ownership until the money is in your bank account. There’s also the small matter of needing a car to get around. I guess if it sells quickly, I can get a rental car for a few weeks. Hopefully the price I get will be enough to cover the expenses and there’s no doubt it will be a great weight off my mind, which is something worth paying a little bit for. I had hoped to sell to a dealership, but the price difference between what I could theoretically get selling it privately and selling to a dealer is so huge that it’s worth taking the risk.

The pictures this week were all taken on Thursday, when I went outside to find the world was sparkling with frost under a clear morning sky. It wasn’t quite hoar frost, but hopefully there will be some, before I leave. Have a good week all!

Autumn Chills

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Sunrise/sunset: 06:04/19:19 Daylength: 13hr14min

There has been a chilly reminder that winter is coming in the past couple of days. When I drove up through Sweden, I noticed they already had their snow poles up and I thought it was early, given it was the start of September. But when I got back here, I noticed there were poles lining the roads here as well. And the past couple of days, there has been fresh snow on the mountain peaks.

It wasn’t this picture I sent to my friend, Donna, in Dumfries, but a different one of the same mountain. Her reaction “Looks gorgeous!” would have been mine too, a couple of years ago. Right now I have mixed feelings about it. The chief one is probably, “it’s too soon!” along with some speculation over whether we’ll have to start clearing the driveway before the removal van has to manouevre its way in here!

I am looking forward to being back in a place where my chief reaction, when I look out of the window and see snow flakes in the breeze, is to hope it will lay! The one winter I spent in Castle Douglas (half an hour from Dumfries), thirty years ago, saw temperatures plummet to minus ten and there was such a huge snowfall that a state of emergency was declared! I was so excited, being snowed in for the first time in my life!

Donna also pointed out a Facebook post to me. Dumfries has a celebration each year, celebrating the connections between Dumfries and Norway that were established during the second world war when Dumfries hosted the exiled Norwegian army. I had been speaking to John, only the day before, about how sad I felt that I was probably going to lose some of my fluency and that there probably weren’t enough Norwegians in Dumfries to have any kind of meetings or clubs with Norwegian speakers, but Donna has already offered to introduce me to someone Norwegian. I feel amazingly emotional over the offer. Leaving Norway feels a little bit like losing a part of myself, and that’s something I hadn’t really expected.

It’s very much autumn here now. I went to visit my British friend, Shirley last weekend and took some photos along the way. The sullen sky, ruffled lake and the sunny trees in the foreground made for a breathtaking combination.

Further on, the fjord looked equally dramatic.

Visiting Shirley is like clinging onto my British self, I guess. We chat about anything and everything, but we have lots of shared experiences about how alien it can feel when you have left your home country. Shirley came here so long ago and is so immersed in the life she has built, that she sometimes slips into Norwegian when we’re chatting and she writes down stories about her life in Norwegian as well. She read some of my Hope Meadows books and said it was a long time since she’d read that kind of descriptive language about the British countryside. She had enjoyed it, she said.

I can’t remember if I have talked about Shirley before, but she came to Norway for a year, as a young, unmarried nurse, met and married a Norwegian and had a family, who have long flown the nest. I had often thought, especially when the children were younger, that it would have been much easier, had I been married to a Norwegian. It’s difficult to pick up on the subtleties of social norms and customs, as an incomer. But she is now so connected that leaving is not an option. If it was, would she take it? I don’t know, but she is unable to visit the UK at the moment because of responsibilities here. It often crosses my mind now, that life is so much longer than I envisaged as a young woman and decisions, lightly taken in optimism for the life ahead, can throw very long shadows, much further down the line.

This weekend’s tasks include emptying Andrew’s bedroom, then sorting through my clothes and throwing away those I don’t use. That’s a job that’s long overdue, but my chest of drawers is falling apart. I’m not taking it to the UK, so I have to take it to the rubbish dump. The dump is only open late on Thursday evenings, so I will try to fill my car before then. Six more weeks to go before the house has to be empty. I have to use that time efficiently, given work is ramping up. That said, with the house sold, all other tasks can now take precedence, and that’s great.

I will finish with a couple of autumn photos, also taken last weekend. The autumn colours here are spectacular. Long may they last!

Sold!

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

Sunrise/sunset: 05:37/19:50 Daylength: 14hr13min

It still feels like a miracle. Just over a year ago, I was sitting in a hotel room, bidding on a house with trembling fingers. The house had been on the market for six months. I couldn’t really understand why it wasn’t selling. There were some aesthetic problems. The previous owner had painted one of the bedrooms black and lilac and covered one wall with mirror tiles and there were more screw holes in many of the walls than seemed ideal, but it seemed a nice house and it was positioned well, half way between Finnsnes, with its fast boat connections to Tromsø and Bardufoss, which boasts an airport.

Black and lilac walls with mirror tiles
Before – Black and lilac
After: Blue and grey

A couple of suggestions had been made by colleagues as to why it might not be selling. It is directly beside the main road was one. Though small, it had three bedrooms, but a fast road outside the door might mean children were not safe in the garden. The other observation was that the previous owner hadn’t done much to the house (mirror tiles aside). That comment was made with an attitude that improvement (or as a minimum, upkeep) of a house ought to be a priority for all, and of course, with the hard, hard winters, that is a lot more important here than in other, gentler parts of the world.

I already had plans to build a fence. John had learned how, so I would only have to pay for the materials. The fence was mainly for Triar, but in future, if I sold the house, it might also keep children safe. In my head there were two other immediate plans. Firstly, I wanted a bigger heat exchanger. The old one didn’t sound like it was functioning properly. Secondly, there was an air vent on the roof that was leaking. Those were the most pressing problems, I thought. The two worst bedrooms would also be decorated before we moved the furniture in, because that was easier than shuffling everything about. As well as the black and lilac room, there was one that was painted an aggressive pink colour.

Beyond that, if I was going to sell, it would be years into the future, I thought. There would be years to plant trees to damp the sound of passing cars and tidy up more generally.

But as regular readers will know, last winter was harder in many ways, than I ever could have predicted, and the decision was made to move back to Scotland. So then I was faced with having to sell the house a long time before I’d ever thought I would, and with not a lot of time to do it. I considered holding onto it and renting it out, but then, as I discovered last winter, if your roof falls in because you didn’t clear the snow, you might find your insurance doesn’t cover it. And if it was hard to sell while I was still living in it, how difficult might it be if it had been rented out for a while and not looked after?

So all that has been in my head over the past couple of months and I found myself driven to get it looking as good as I possibly could. Since contacting the estate agent, I have painted the ceiling in the hallway, painted the garage, painted all the white railings on the front and side of the house and (with Trude’s help) cleaned and stained the wooden deck outside the front door and the veranda. Add on a deep clean inside the house and a major declutter. I haven’t pushed myself that hard in many years, and as the day of the visning came, I could only hope it was enough.

In Norway, houses are normally sold by auction, often on the day after the visning. I didn’t ask until the last minute, but I was pleased to hear there were six interested parties who came to look at the house on the day. Still, it wasn’t a certainty anyone would bid.

I misunderstood the process somewhat. I thought that nobody could bid until midday the next day, so I was disconcerted when the estate agent called me at around nine in the evening on visning day, to say that the first bid was in. It was way too low and the date for taking over the house was the first of October. The agent seemed to think it was a good thing, but it was too late to discuss details. What she probably didn’t know, was that before I bought the house, there had only been one previous bid made, months earlier, and for the same amount I was being offered now. I had the idea in my head that the same thing might happen. First of October looked impossible as well. I had been in touch with three removal companies, all of whom had agreed to mid-to late October.

After a restless night, I slapped out e-mails to the removal companies, asking if there was any chance they could manage the earlier date. When I got to work though, Trude reassured me that a super-low starting bid was normal. I also came to understand was that the midday deadline was not for bidders, but for the sale. I could not agree to any bid before twelve. This is in line with a Norwegian law intended to make sure all who attend a visning have enough thinking time to consider whether they want to bid.

All was quiet until ten thirty the next morning. The bid that came in then was only a little higher, but what it did mean was that there was more than one party interested in buying. Almost immediately there was another bid and then another. Bid number four was a major turning point. It was for 1,8 million kroner – the same price I had paid a year earlier, and the price I had decided was the level at which I would definitely sell. The date on that one was first December, but all that would mean was that I wouldn’t be there personally for the handover: not a problem.

By now the agent was ringing me regularly. I told her first October was so difficult it might make a difference to which buyer I chose. When the phone pinged again, the date was my chosen date of first November. The estate agent was ringing the bidders as well as me, pushing them upwards and the bids were still coming in. 1,9 million… 2 million… And then a jump I hadn’t expected, right up to 2,1 million.

By this time several of my colleagues were sitting around the table, keeping me company. They’ve probably never seen me so grinning so broadly. Not only had I made back the money I had spent on the house during the past year, but I had probably covered the costs of buying and selling as well. The estate agent rang again to say she thought it would be the final bid, but really it was already way beyond anything I dared to hope for. It was also the first November bidder, so perfect date as well as price.

I have come down a bit since. There’s still a lot to do. I have to get rid of a lot of stuff. John’s things have to be separated from mine. The removal company is now arranged and they will do the packing, but that means we have to be very clear about what is to go and what isn’t. There’s lots of paperwork to be completed so that the importation of my furniture goes without a hitch and doesn’t cost me a fortune in import taxes. I have to sell the car and then get to the airport without it. I am working in the abattoir right up to the day before the keys are handed over, so it’s a logistical jigsaw, more complicated than any I’ve handled before. But it all looks so much more doable now. Selling the house was always going to be the biggest challenge.

Anyway, I had better go now. I have to fill in some UK government forms so that I don’t have to pay tax on my goods as they go into the UK. I also contacted a car dealership last night to see whether they would buy my car. I thought they’d make me an offer, but they’re asking how much I want, so now I have to go and work out how much it’s worth. Steps and steps and steps, but I know I will get there eventually.

And I’ll leave you with a couple more bad moose pictures. I love seeing them, just outside the garden, but they do like to hide behind the trees. Thanks for reading and I hope to see you next week!

Trees, Trees, Trees – A Whistlestop Journey through Sweden

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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

Southbound

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

I’m on my iPad, so this will mostly be photographs from our epic road trip from Fagerfjell to Sandnes. Andrew starts his film course tomorrow in Stavanger, so he, Triar and I took to the road to transport all his gear from one end of Norway to the other. It was officially a 28 hour trip, but I suspect it took a little longer in the end.

We set off in sunshine on Saturday afternoon. We were aiming for Fauske, which was just over six hours away. The road was winding, but we got to take a short break on the ferry from Skadeberget to Bognes.


Steep mountains fell precipitously into the deep waters of the fjord, but Triar seemed to be enjoying the fresh air as much as the view.


We set out quite late on day two, which was a mistake as I had optimistically booked an AirBnB in Hell, just north of Trondheim: an eight and a half hour journey. We passed out of the Polar Circle at around eleven. The picture at the top of the page shows the flags at the centre that marks the line.

By the time we arrived at the AirBnB I had booked, it was raining. It was a private cabin, rather than one on a campsite, but what I hadn’t noticed when I made the booking, was that the toilet was in an outhouse, and of the typical «earth» type – basically whatever you do falls through a hole into a kind of cellar, which at some point, some poor soul has to dig out!

Still, the cabin was very comfortable, and we entertained ourselves by watching Lucifer in Hell.

While I slept in one or the very comfortable beds, Andrew decided to venture outside, only to be greeted at the front door by a huge, friendly spider, which had spun its web across the entrance. Being a thoughtful young man, he kindly sent me a warning message in the hope that I would read it before I went out in the morning, which happily, I did.

We stopped in Trondheim for bubble tea, then clutching a bag of croissants, we headed back to the car. By the time we were back on the road it was raining heavily. It has been a hot and dreamy summer in the north of Norway, but wet in the east, to the point of bridges being washed away. We had originally planned to go via Oslo and Kristiansand because the roads that way are better, but as the windscreen wipers laboured, we decided we might be better to brave a few mountain passes than risk the flatlands on the coast. 

And so, we turned inland at Otta and headed along the 15 road, then the 55, which took us past Galdhøpiggen (the highest mountain in Norway at 2,469m) and past the glacier at Jotunheimen. It was a breathtaking road through a rocky pass, running alongside a rushing mountain river.

We hadn’t booked ahead, as I had been reluctant to commit to driving for too long, but as the road followed the contours of the high ground, there weren’t any campsites. And just as the road began to descend, Google Maps threw us a curveball. We were committed to going inland, but rather than finding a wider and easier road, Google Maps directed us up onto another road, which was even narrower and more primitive than the 55. It had a warning sign at the start which stated you couldn’t go that way with a vehicle that was over 10m long, and in addition, you needed a credit card to drive through. Having just looked it up on the map, it seems to be marked as «Tindevegen». Still, we were committed now, so with a grin, we turned onto it and drove onwards. It was just as isolated, and as the minutes ticket by, we were starting to wonder whether we were just going to have to stop and pitch the tent on the roadside.

The idea of a tent was not very enticing, and so we drove on and on. By the time we descended the steep switchbacks that led us down into the little town of Øvre Årdal, it was after six. We limped into the Utladalen campsite and, to my enormous relief, bagged the last cabin with shower and toilet.

So much for taking three easier days to end our journey. From Øvre Årdal to Stavanger was only seven and a half hours and we were rapidly tiring of basic cabins. We set off at a reasonable time and decided we would make a run for our final destination.

We stopped a couple of times, on seeing a waterfall first…

…and then I saw this irresistable lake with its reflected mountains and trees.

Happily, Charlie welcomed us with a reviving barbecue. The trip which I had expected to finish on Thursday was done by Tuesday evening. And for Triar, who had spent four patient days in the back of the car, the best reward was Charlie, who he hadn’t seen for more than a year. He has an amazing memory for faces and after being silent almost all the way, he saw Charlie through the window and let out a greeting yelp. He really is a very loving dog.

Last Things Over and Over

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Sunrise/sunset: 04:11/21:29 Daylength: 17hr17min

Things are going well. This week I have painted the last wall of the garage and made concrete for the second time. I am gradually filling a hole in the wall under the veranda, left open when the old air conditioning unit was moved. The house brochure still isn’t done, though I did get the survey report back. The surveyor didn’t find anything nasty, which is a relief, and he’s valued the house at more than I bought it for, which is brilliant. I’m looking forward to seeing the photos. I’ve contacted some removal companies as well, and done my first video survey. Keep on going, one foot in front of the other.

One of the pleasures of working at the abattoir is spending time with Trude. She was born and raised here and properly embraces the lifestyle, making the most of the wildness, living on the edge of the world. She owns and breeds hunting dogs and though she obviously loves hunting, she also works hard to do it ethically. She was recently involved in taking a survey of how many grouse there are in the area where they hunt, so that they know how many birds (if any) they can take this year. On Thursday, she told me that she was going away for the weekend, but that she couldn’t go until Friday as she was involved in judging dogs in a course where they were trained to be frightened of sheep. Picking berries and living close to the land are second nature.

I love listening to it all and it sounds wonderful. Part of the fascination for me, is catching a glimpse into a close knitted community, where the way of life is so different from my own. When I was much younger, I felt a similar pull when living on the edges of the farming community in south west Scotland. Back then, I wanted to be part of it. Now I just listen, enthralled and admiring, as I know it’s not for me, but hearing about it is like a tiny window into a different world.

And of course, in addition to all of that, Trude knows all about maintaining Norwegian houses. One of the challenges for me, in living here, has been that people tend to be very self sufficient. Getting people in to decorate or do work on your house costs so much that most people learn how to fix things early. There’s a whole lot of maintenance that needs to be done though. Wooden houses in an Arctic climate need to be looked after. There are also some short-cuts that make doing that work faster. I mentioned last week that I had cleaned and stained the decking and the steps up to the front door. It took me quite a long time, spraying on the cleaning fluid that loosens the old stain, scrubbing the wood with a brush, then washing it all off. It was physically hard going and my arms have developed semi-permanent aches and pains. Trude has been keeping track of all the work I’ve been doing on the house (I think she approves) and when I said that, though I wanted to finish the garage, I probably wasn’t going to get the veranda done before my holiday, to my surprise (and happiness) she offered to come round and give me a hand.

I expected she would come round and we would do the job together, but once we had applied the cleaning fluid (with mops on sticks, instead of spraying it on) she brought out her secret weapon, which was a brush attached to a pressure washer. To my bemusement, I was actually left just watching her as she cleaned my entire veranda in double quick time. If I was staying, I would definitely be investing in one of these!

As I go about my life though, I am constantly aware of the changes that are coming. The bank of wild flowers outside my house is in full bloom at the moment. I know, when they die, I won’t be seeing them again, or at least not on a daily basis as I go in and out. The season in the abattoir is almost upon us. I am on holiday now for two weeks. When I get back, Vaidotas and Ernestas, will have arrived and there will be seven Mattilsynet meat inspectors working every day, instead of three of us, working between three and four days each week. I love the life the season brings and the changing of the seasons of the year that goes along with it. By the time I leave in November, it will be cold again and I will probably have seen the first snow. And while it will be wonderful to go home, it is also going to be tough, tearing myself away.

Anyway, I had better go. When I said I was on holiday, what I’m actually about to do is take a road trip, taking Andrew down to his new school year in Stavanger. It will be Andrew’s last time in this house, probably. How odd to be leaving home, to have no home to come back to. I will build a new one in Scotland, hopefully, but obviously it won’t be the same. Before I leave him, I will probably try to buy him some plane tickets so he can come to me over Christmas. Planning and planning and planning. I’d better go and start packing the car. Have a good week all!

Keeping Track

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

Sunrise/sunset: 03:42/21:59 Daylength: 18hr16min

I had hoped to share my house sale brochure with you this week, but it hasn’t gone live yet. No word from the estate agent or the surveyor on what they think the house is worth either. Though I probably should have chased it up, it’s just another thing on my enormous list of things to do. I haven’t taken many photos this week, but I did send some to the estate agent: pictures taken from around the house during the year I have been here. If you read regularly, you will have seen them before, but I will scatter them through this post as a reminder of how beautiful it is.

This was taken shortly after moving in, before all the snow came

Things I have achieved this week include painting the third wall of the garage, getting the front door steps and decking around them stained, preparing the house for photographs and having the photographs taken and booking two ferries, to get me from Norway to Emden in Germany and from Amsterdam to Newcastle. I’ve also booked an AirBnB in Amsterdam for two nights and the woman who owns the house we will be staying in has supplied me with the name and address of a vet in Amsterdam. Though Triar has a pet passport and has had his rabies vaccination, he needs to be wormed by a veterinary surgeon between 24 and 56 hours before entering the UK. Doing it myself isn’t enough. I need a different vet and a signature. I haven’t rung the vet yet, nor have I made final arrangements on how to get down to Kristiansand, or all the transfers. Still, at least I have made a start, and the best news associated with that is that Anna has agreed to come over and make the trip with Triar and me. We would have probably managed alone, but it would have been a challenge every time I needed to buy food as there’s no way I would leave him tied up outside a shop and he almost certainly wouldn’t be allowed in most of them.

The whole process of selling the house is further complicated by the fact that I am on holiday at the end of next week and will be away for a fortnight. The estate agent said they normally try for a visning (open house session for potential buyers) a couple of weeks after the brochure goes live. John is coming back from his holiday the day before Andrew and I go away. I don’t want to have a visning when I’m absent, so it will have to wait until I’m back, but the idea of arriving straight back from being away, to get the house organised immediately is daunting. In effect, I have to try to get as much done as possible before I leave. So painting the fourth wall of the garage is non negotiable. It has to be done this week. If I experience a rush of energy from somewhere, I may get the veranda cleaned and stained, but that is a much bigger job, and one that isn’t started yet, so possibly best left for now. I’m having to accept that I’m not going to get everything done, so prioritising is the name of the game.

Polar night over a snow covered mountain scene. Taken from the garden.

Though the house is tidy, inside and out, the garage and the room beside it are in chaos. Some of it will go away with Andrew. When I said I am going on holiday next week, what I’m actually doing is driving him down to Stavanger, to his new folk high school, where he starts on 26th August. We have quite a lot of sports gear, such as skis and diving gear, and he will be taking some of that with him, which is good. Unfortunately, the garage and its attached storage room are also where we have been dumping everything as we gradually did the house and garden up. There is old wood from some horrible decking we removed and a large wooden toy van that was also in the garden. I looked into hiring a skip this week, but it seems the decking wood was impregnated with nasty chemicals and therefore can’t be put in normal waste. I’ve taken some of it to the dump in the car, but am considering how to get the rest of it away.

From inside the house, there are various shelves we have taken down and all the tools that have been used are scattered around. There is John’s shearing equipment and an old mattress from a bed that I need to throw away, which is blocking some other shelves. There’s also the air conditioning unit, that I had vaguely thought we might use in the garage store room, before I realised it had a heated floor.

My favourite shot of the aurora over the barn next door to the house.

When we moved in, the previous owner had left various things that matched stuff in the house, such as tiles and flooring. There was also a bunch of paint tins, a few of which contained viable paint (I have painted the garage without buying new paint, for example) but most of which I have been gradually taking to the dump as the paint has solidified long ago. I guess any of the decorating equipment that she left might be left as it still matches the things in the house, but it very much depends on the new owner. If they demand I remove everything (as is their right in Norway) then I will have to do it. Depending on when the house sells, doing so might be complicated.

Things I haven’t started yet include getting quotations from international removal companies. I need to get three and getting them is quite complicated. The companies require a fairly detailed list of what you want to take, as well as an address where they have to deliver it, which I can’t supply yet and probably won’t be able to do until I actually arrive in the UK. What I want to take is also up in the air. John will want some furniture (probably) as it makes sense for him to move into an unfurnished flat, but exactly which items isn’t certain. The estate agent wants me to leave the white goods, but I won’t know if the new owner will actually want them until we get to the point of selling. I guess I just arrange to go without them and we can dispose of them if necessary. That isn’t especially complicated, at least.

Sunset shot over the late winter snow. Taken from behind the garage.

At least I am looking forward to being on holiday next week, though it suddenly dawned on me properly yesterday that it’s not just a holiday, but is Andrew leaving home. It’s odd for him too, as he will leave and once he’s gone, the house will most likely be sold and he probably won’t ever return. All this feels very odd and still somewhat unreal at the moment.

One thing that past couple of weeks have brought home to me is how much I am going to miss the colleagues I have been working with for the past three years. I have been moving around my whole life. You’d think I would be used to it, but I guess most times I have moved, I have had family with me. This time it will be a complete break from everything and though I am going somewhere where there will be other family and friends, it is going to be hard to make that break.

Anyway, as planned, Andrew and I did go camping again this weekend. We had intended to go for two nights, but ended up doing only one, back in the same place as last week. As we drove back up, I was very much aware that I was driving through another farewell. Next time we go camping (if we do) it will be in Scotland. I will probably be here to see the start of the winter snow, but the short Arctic summer is already showing signs of coming to an end. There are going to be a whole lot of goodbyes and a lot of last times coming up. Next weekend’s blog might be delayed as there will be a lot to do, but I will try to record some of the journey so I can share it with you. Have a good week, all!

More breakfast toasties from yesterday.