I only realised on Monday, or maybe Tuesday, that Saturday had passed and I had forgotten to write to you at all last weekend. It felt surreal, though perhaps not surprising. My whirlwind trip to the Arctic was over in a flash. Even now that I’m home, it feels no time at all since I was landing in Bardufoss and walking across the recently cleared runway to find Shirley waiting for me, just inside the glass door of the airport building.
It was, in many ways, a beautiful trip. Temperatures were perfect at around minus one all week. Cold enough for crisp snow, not so chilly as to give you frostbite. Each morning, I went for a twilight walk with the dogs. This was my first day.
I sent the picture to my work colleagues, one of whom said it was like a postcard. I was quite surprised because to me, it’s just a road. Attractive enough with all the snow, but not especially scenic. Three years living there has skewed my perspective.
When we got back, Shirley offered to make me the same breakfast she makes herself each morning. Just some oats and nuts, I think she said. She came through a few minutes later with a delicious concoction of blueberries, porridge, nuts, seeds and honey. It was a fabulous start to the day.
I came upstairs on the 5th to find Shirley had put the Christmas tree up. This was in addition to a thousand other festive touches. With darkness outside some 21 hours of the day, it felt cosy and utterly Norwegian.
Despite being vegetarian, Shirley and Kai wanted to treat me to Norwegian Christmas dinner, so on Friday, they took me out to Senjastua for lunch. It was a delight of different Norwegian traditions, from pinnekjøtt (dried and reconstituted lamb) to pork ribbe, via a tasty lamb sausage. It was served with mashed swede and red cabbage, along with what was called ribbe sauce – effectively gravy! Delicious!
It was just as well our walk had taken us a bit further up the hill that morning, or I would never have managed the whole plateful.
The forecast was for cloudy skies all week and I had resigned myself to not seeing the Northern Lights. I did glance out of the window as I was on my way to bed that night and chanced to see stars. Stars meant the clouds must have cleared a bit, so opening the door, I went outside and, to my delight, the sky was indeed lit up with that gently dancing river of light. Standing outside in the snow, it felt timeless and wonderful as ever.
On Saturday, we made shortbread and stuffed mushrooms on a leek and cauliflower purée. No photos of those, but on Sunday, I made a gingerbread cake with cream cheese icing, which I will definitely be making again.
Somehow, it didn’t strike me until Monday that I was leaving on Tuesday. Throughout the weekend, I was thinking I was only halfway through my visit. Monday was spent shopping and Shirley and I had lunch in En Kaffe Te, where I sometimes used to go with John and Andrew, when we all lived there.
I bought quite a few Christmas things. I won’t be using them this year as my house is still in a state of flux with ongoing building work, but perhaps next year, I can make it into more of a haven. Lovely as my trip was, I confess there were bittersweet overtones. I loved my house in the north and when I bought it, I was expecting to settle there, with John nearby and probably Andrew somewhere not too far away. For a number of reasons, it didn’t work out that way and since then, life hasn’t felt settled or comfortable, but I guess that’s how life is. I can only hope to build something different. There’s no going back.
Flying out of Tromsø is always beautiful, especially in winter.
Unfortunately, my flight from Trondheim to Copenhagen was delayed, which meant an exhausting rush the length of Copenhagen airport, followed by the not-unexpected discovery that, although I had made it back to Manchester on time, my luggage hadn’t. Cue two days of hanging about at home, expecting it to be delivered. A message arrived yesterday evening at quarter past seven to say it will be arriving on Monday. I’m not very impressed.
Still Triar seems to have had a lovely time with my friend Ruth. Good to know that I have someone who loves him to look after him when I’m away. It was when she told me she was moving beds to make sure he had enough space that I knew I’d found the perfect home from home for him!
When I booked this year’s Norwegian holiday in December, it didn’t cross my mind that I would see snow in Scotland before I went. Living in Dumfries for the last two winters, I’ve not seen more than a heavyish frost, so I joyfully booked a pre-Christmas week in the Arctic to boost my chances. Not that there is invariably snow there in December, but the odds of it (and Aurora) are much greater. Perhaps I should have been prepared for it. After all, last time I went there (May last year) Donna sent pictures of spectacular northern lights over my house. Life is sometimes topsy-turvy after all.
I guess in North Norwegian terms, this barely counts as snow, but it was beautiful anyway. A white world under a cloudless blue sky. My favourite kind of day.
This was my second day in the area, working with a team that was trying to ensure the last of the maurauding pigs were gone. Most had been removed the week before by my colleague from the local authority in a trailer. These were the stragglers: those which were no longer domesticated enough to come back to their field for food. Knowing this might happen, I had asked for, and received, permission to invite a wildlife firearms team to come up.
I guess some might criticize that decision, but these were pigs living in close proximity to a nasty bend in an A road. We’d already dealt with one that had been hit by a lorry. Someone asked if I would be traumatized, but my thinking is that these are healthy animals being shot from a distance in an environment where they are comfortable. There are much worse ways to go. I was there as welfare vet though in truth, the two members of the team who came were so professional that my presence was barely needed. There were very few pigs, though there was a young pair, probably brother and sister, who would have bred if left.
As well as taking me up the hill where we had great views of the snow, my local authority colleague took me to see the weaned piglets from the members of the herd he’d taken away the week before. Instead of being outside in the cold, they were inside in a comfortable pen, with plenty of food. This hasn’t been a perfect operation, but it’s a good end to a welfare case that held the prospect of getting completely out of hand.
I’ve been out to a couple of cafes this week. The first was a trip to my local garden centre, where I have a card that lets me have two coffees each month. Mostly my intention is only to have coffee, but on my previous visit, I had seen a gingerbread cake that I decided was worth going back for when I was hungry. This then, was last week’s belated breakfast after waiting for the plasterer. It was worth the wait: the cake had a warm and spicy flavour that was nicely offset by the coolness of the icing. If I was being pernickety about it, I was slightly disappointed that the litttle gingerbread man and the biscuit crumbs on the cake wer soft and not crunchy but, complemented by the smooth bitterness of the coffee, it was a delicious start to the day.
The second was a revelation. On a dreich day at work, I went with a colleague to a cafe in Sanquhar called A’ the Airts. As Scots readers can possibly predict, this venue had lots of paintings on the walls. There was a gorgeous acrylic of a cat on a black background and a glorious golden painting of a stag with antlers. I may go back to buy a painting when the work in my house is finished, but I will definitely be going back before that for more food.
In addition to the normal menu of toasted sandwiches and soup, there were two Christmas offerings. Having been out in the rain all morning (I saw myself in a mirror and bedraggled would have been a good description) I was keen to order, so decided quickly on the second choice, which involved pigs in blankets, gravy and Yorkshire puddings. It was only after the order was in that I read the description properly: “Two Yorkshire Puddings stuffed with Cranberry, Pigs in Blankets & Honey Topped Baked Brie served with gravy & festive slaw”
I guess there is nothing wrong with a cheese and Yorkshire Pudding combination, but I confess I was surprised. Still, bedraggled and hungry as I was, I was delighted when it appeared.
It wasn’t easy to photograph. I’m not sure how enticing it looks, but reader it was delicious! Cranberry and Brie is a common combination. I’m usually wary of adding in bacon. For me that is gilding the lily because the sharpness cranberry offsets the creaminess of the Brie so well. But this time, with the honey accentuating the salty and crunchy bacon, alongside that heavenly Brie and cranberry combination… well it was divine. I’m not sure I detected any gravy (I love gravy) but for a hot meal on a wet November day, it was perfect. And if you want to know what was festive about the slaw? That had cranberries in it too. Not sure they added much, other than it being an odd colour, but it’s a forgivable experiment! All in all, this was a wonderful meal.
And now I am down in Yorkshire. Not the snowy part, but the past two days were beautiful with frost. It’s been a lovely start to a long weekend.
It feels like ages since I was down in Yorkshire, listening to the Met Office warnings about snow, but when I look back at this week’s pictures, I can see the snowfall was only last Sunday, which coincidentally was my birthday. I know the situation was unpredictable and that snow in the UK causes more disruption because the country is not set up for it, but the relentless warnings felt like they were over the top, not least because it was predicted the whole thing was only likely to last a day. It seems to me that an appropriate response, when the snow is going to melt within 24-48 hours, would be to remind everyone to avoid unnecessary travel on those days, then sit back and enjoy the scenery.
I woke at three in the morning and saw a thin layer of snow and assumed that might be it and went back to sleep. I’d left the curtains and blinds open so I could see and I confess I was amazed to wake again at six to see the entire window was obscured with snow, lying on the windowsill and sticking to the glass. Realistically this meant the snow was warm and sticky. When it’s snowing at minus 8, the flakes are usually tiny and don’t stick to anything, but drift at the slightest air movement. However, it did mean that it had snowed properly and wasn’t just a dusting!
I wondered last winter, our first back in the UK, whether Triar missed the snow, so knowing there was a good covering, I got out of bed to take him outside. It was a wonderful start to my birthday, watching him doing zoomies on the lawn and burying his face up to his ears.
Later, I went for a walk, but it was cold and windy and the sky was grey. I took a few photos, but didn’t linger long as I hadn’t dressed for the windchill, which wasn’t apparent among the houses, but only on venturing out into the fields.
I headed north on Monday and the roads were fine, though I travelled with blankets, warm soup and plenty of food. The rest of the week has been dominated, both at home and at work, by low temperatures.
At work, low temperatures are often significant as freezing conditions can affect the welfare of animals on the farm. For example, if the water in all the troughs freezes solid, it can be difficult to ensure all the animals have enough to drink. A cow drinks a lot of water. Part of my week has been spent making decisions about whether sales at markets can go ahead when their water has frozen and they can’t cleanse and disinfect. I haven’t personally been out blood sampling, but for colleagues who have, cold fingers are not the only challenge. If your sample freezes before you get it into the insulated, warmed box, it will be defunct. Repeat testing is expensive, so careful judgement is needed on whether to go ahead.
At home, it hasn’t been the best. Though the upstairs rooms in my house are now insulated, they still don’t have doors or radiators. The radiator in my hall has been going full pelt all week, but the passage is still too chilly for comfort. Quite unexpectedly though, the electrician/handyman who is running the project on my house, arrived to do some work downstairs on Tuesday. Back when the initial plan was hatched, it was suggested the ceiling in the downstairs bathroom would be lowered, partly to allow for various waste pipes and fan ducts to be hidden. I wasn’t sure if this was still going ahead, but I came back on Tuesday evening to find that not only was the bathroom ceiling being lowered, with added insulation, but he was doing the hallway in the back part of the house as well. That part is an extension with thinner walls and a flat roof and it was only with the onset of winter that I realised how cold that part of the house would be. All very well insulating the upstairs in the main, older part of the house, when the kitchen and bathroom and all the water pipes were out there and unprotected.
The kitchen is now the only bit that isn’t insulated overhead and that part of the house is already noticeably less chilly than the front hallway. There’s still more to do, but in time, I may not have to watch the smart meter ratcheting up a huge figure daily as I’ve chosen to keep the heating running day and night to prevent frozen pipes!
I shall leave you with some frosty pictures, mostly from Blackbird Lane. There is hoar frost collecting in the places where the low, winter sun doesn’t reach and it’s very beautiful. I’ve tried my best to capture it as well as the golden light against that wide, blue sky.
I don’t have many photos this week. Though I was out and about a couple of days, the weather has mostly been grey and uninspiring. Now we are in the midst of Storm Darragh (though where I am, in Yorkshire, it doesn’t seem to be windy) so I’m not likely to rush out and get many pictures. As you can see from the picture at the top of the page, I have made myself an advent crown and have actually bought the proper purple candles that are common in Norway.
I am enjoying the advent calendars from Jacquie Lawson I was given last year and the year before. The Sussex one is particularly lovely. One thing I didn’t notice the first year was that the snow in the pictures gets gradually deeper as the days go by. I only realized when it reset last year, because it happened gradually. I took a couple of screenshots for comparison.
I’ve also just realised that I took the pictures at different times of day as well. It actually gets dark at night in the calendars. They really are beautifully detailed and I love looking at them in the lead up to Christmas.
There are Christmas programmes starting to appear on TV as well. Last night, we watched Susan Calman take a Christmas trip on Hurtigruten (boats that travel up and down Norway taking goods and passengers as well as tourists). She stopped off at the North Cape and at Finnsnes to visit Senja and it brought back so many wonderful memories. Though winter was very long, it was stunningly beautiful. I was rarely short of photos to share with you.
I am often asked if I regret coming back and it’s a difficult thing to answer. There were things over there that I loved. I enjoyed working for Mattilsynet more than I enjoy working for APHA, though the barriers thrown up by my imperfect grasp of the Norwegian language were always an impediment. I miss the magical feeling when the aurora lit up the night sky in its slow, endless dance. I miss my friends. I contacted Trude a few days ago when I was investigating a welfare referral from the slaughterhouse and just that small act brought me joy, as do the messages and photos from Shirley.
I feel incredibly blessed in the friends department though, as since returning to Scotland, I’ve also reconnected with many wonderful people, as well as meeting new ones. I guess the answer to whether I regret coming back is, mostly no. The reasons I returned are still there and I have some incredible memories to look back on. I guess my main wish would be that I could travel more and spend time in both countries.
I entered a Christmas card competition at work. They asked for winter pictures, which I have plenty of. The one I sent in was taken on a wonderful walk on Senja with John and Triar. It was taken in 2020, our first year there and our first Polar night. An icy cold day in December, with the sun, just below the horizon, casting amazing golden light through the bare branches of the trees. I expect the competition will be stiff, but hopefully they will enjoy my entry.
I don’t know if I mentioned it, but I’ve already booked another holiday in Shetland for next year. That’s in May, so something to look forward to. I’ve booked a pet friendly cabin, so Triar will be able to explore Shetland with me this time. I mentioned it last night and Mum asked me last night when I would be going to Norway, which is a difficult question. Not because I’m not intending to go, but because I’m finding it hard to know what time of year I should visit. I’m very tempted to go up North during Polar night, but that won’t be this winter. I feel like a holiday hoarder, saving up the days and calculating how many I can spare for all the places I want to go!
Anyway, the rain is hammering against the window and it feels like time to go and make a nice hot coffee. Today is probably going to be a day for huddling inside. I hope that, wherever you are, that you stay safe. Have a good week all!
It was lovely being back in Stavanger. As well as catching up with family, I also visited Wivek, who owns Triar’s mum, Trifli. Trifli had another litter three weeks before our visit and the puppies are now on their feet and getting adventurous! The last picture here is of Triar’s half sister, Kløver, who seems fascinated with all these new friends!
Stavanger looked beautiful under a clear blue sky. I have been very lucky with the weather, which is just as well as I couldn’t find my coat when I was packing. I thought I might have to buy a new one, but so far, I’ve got away with it!
I came north on Monday. The stunning approach to Bardufoss, with its deep blue sea and snowy mountain ranges was a wonderful start to my Northern odyssey and though it clouded over as we neared our destination, I was treated to the sight of a «glory» which is a rainbow-surrounded shadow cast by the plane onto the cloud cover.
I have been staying with my lovely friend, Shirley, for the past few days. I met Shirley just over a year ago on the fast boat to Tromsø. Hearing people speaking English in this remote area of Norway is rare enough that I turned round to speak to her and her visiting friend, Linda, and we’ve never looked back. Coming back was like returning to a home from home, not least because of the lovely dogs she and her husband Kai own. Here they are: Bailey at the front and Alva in the background.
It’s been interesting coming back. The snow melted on the lower ground quite early this year, but it’s a week or two too early for the incredible summer growth to begin. When I lived here, it always seemed like the least beautiful time of year, with its dead-looking plants and grass, but driving through the valleys, past snowy peaks and still-frozen lakes, it was easy to see the beauty in the landscape, despite the dust that covers the roadsides when all the winter snow has melted away.
We’ve had a wonderful week of cooking together and wine with dinner, as well as UK comfort TV, like Heartbeat and Judge John Deed. We went on a trip to Dyrøya on Wednesday and walked for an hour along a track above the fjord, with views over to the mountains of Senja to one side and rocky peaks to the other. There was even a sea eagle soaring in the blue sky, far above our heads.
On Friday, we went to Senjastua, a restaurant on the edge of Stavanger, which serves traditional and modern Norwegian food. I chose reindeer karbonader, which came with boiled potatoes and cream sauce. It was the perfect end to a very enjoyable week.
In an hour or so, I am heading north again on the fast boat to Tromsø, where I will be visiting John and Yoana for a few days. Have a good week all and thanks for reading!
Another emotional week, this week. If you’ve been following for a while, you will understand why I was nervous of handing over the house, more specifically the cleaning. Shirley, knowing all that history, volunteered to come and help me and was absolutely wonderful.
As a retired nurse, I thought that if there were any problems, she’d be a great witness. She is also an absolute whirlwind with a mop. I think she cleaned three rooms in the time it took me to get the bathroom sorted out. She also brought along a kettle and delicious biscuits and we sat and drank coffee, gazing out of the kitchen window at the snowy bulk of Fagerfjell (Mountain) that rises up behind the house. It was lovely to have some pleasant last memories after the furniture removal debacle!
My last two days at work were lovely. I was on the early shift, checking the live animals both days. I had quite forgotten that Tuesday was Halloween, so I was especially delighted to come back from the lairage to find that Trude had made our office really cosy with Halloween themed decorations, sweets, and a cake.
A few last memories of the lairage: there were wooly pigs there on my last day. Like many of the pigs, they were fast asleep when I arrived to look at them, so I took a photo. Actually, I think the black one facing me in the middle might have clocked me, but it’s a typically peaceful scene from the pig pens, albeit with extra wool!
There are a couple of bits of grafitti that have amused me over the years. Someone with a dark sense of humour has added a direction marker for any poor sheep in the «cold lairage». Fortunately, with all the sheep being Norwegian, they won’t have understood it if they saw it.
And there is a cheerier message on the back of one of the gates we stand behind when the animals come in. There’s not too much danger from a flock of sheep, even if they do run straight over you, but there are also big bulls brought in on a regular basis, and then this i very relevant.
Translated, it says, «You are safe here, Amen». A very reassuring message.
We had pizza together at lunch time and I spent the rest of the day showing Ingrid how to do a few last things. I also hugged almost everyone, which was lovely, given the restraints of Covid that were in place for so much of my first couple of years. I was also given some gifts, including a lovely pair of Målselv socks, which I can confirm are deliciously warm as well as very pleasing to look at.
The sale of the car to Kaj and later of the house, went through without a hitch. Both had originally been planned for 1st November, but as the house was ready before that, I handed over both sets of keys on the 31st and then drove to Tromsø with John. I had two nights in the lovely flat he and Yoana have rented. They’ve made it really cosy. I bought them a Nespresso machine as a housewarming present. Hopefully they’ll get a lot of use from it.
On Thursday morning, I walked through the snow to catch the bus that would take me to the airport. It was a beautiful day and I managed to capture a last photo of Tromsø as the plane took off.
It was a lot greener in Stavanger when I landed.
And of course, this lovely boy was waiting for me at the airport. It was wonderful to be reunited.
So now I am in Stavanger for a few days. Andrew came round on Thursday evening and yesterday and tonight Anna will be joining us. She will be coming with me on the next leg of my journey. We will take a boat from Stavanger to Hirtshals in Denmark on Tuesday evening.
And for regular readers, I have been asked to continue blogging by so many people that I will continue when I get to Scotland, so I hope you will all join me as I begin the next stage of my life as «The Vet Who Came In From The Cold».
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!
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!
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.
Sunrise/sunset: 01:04/00:24 Daylength: Up all day from today
There were two bank holidays this week, on Wednesday and Thursday. The first was 17th May, which is Norway’s national day. This was my first 17th May as a Norwegian citizen, so perhaps we should have celebrated in style and gone out to watch a parade, but it was raining heavily in the morning when we got up and so we decided to celebrate at home. There was a Norwegian flag in the house when we moved in, so we put it into the flag holder near the front door, then we had a relaxing day and ate Norway’s standard fare on 17th May of hotdogs and ice cream!
John’s girlfriend, Joana, came to stay overnight and celebrated with us and she and John made the hotdogs between them, including toasting the rolls, which I confess, we normally never do, but it did add an extra dimension of deliciousness.
On the evening of 17th May, I noticed a concerning change in the water pressure of the taps. I went to bed, hoping that it was a temporary blip and would all be okay in the morning, but it wasn’t. Instead, the pressure fell further, to the point where the toilet cistern didn’t fill and there was only a trickle coming from the taps. Given that it was still a bank holiday, we decided that we would probably be okay until Friday.
Though it was relatively easy to get some drinking water, I was in something of a dilemma about the toilet. I was trying to work out whether I should walk to get some buckets of water from a stream, when I remembered that there was still a source of water, right there in the back garden. Though most of the snow has melted, there was still a pile behind the garage. And so I went out with my bucket and spade, and for the last time this winter, I started digging snow.
Despite the heated bathroom floor, it took a surprising amount of time for the snow to melt, but when it did, we were able to flush the toilet again, thank goodness!
Friday dawned and then began the chase to try and find a plumber who was working. As you can imagine, with bank holidays on Wednesday and Thursday, a lot of people in all walks of life took the Friday off and the local plumbers were no exception. I messaged a few when I woke in the morning as some of them didn’t start until ten, even on a normal Friday, but I got no response and the ones I did phone didn’t answer, even though it was in their normal Friday working hours.
Fortunately, one kind plumber, Hugo Nordaas, actually rang me back. He was working all day in a shop, he told me, but would come out afterwards. I asked him whether I should continue trying to find someone else in the meantime, and he said yes, but to let him know if I still wanted him to come out. I had barely had time to start, when my phone rang again. Hugo had contacted someone else, who was on their way to me.
The young man who arrived didn’t seem very confident, but he assessed the situation and came up with a solution, which, I think, he checked with a colleague on the phone. I guess I’d better explain a bit more about our water system before going further, because I’m assuming the vast majority of you reading this have mains water, so if the supply dries up, workers magically appear and start trying to fix the issue. There is no mains water, out where I live, despite it being on a main road. Our water supply is private and comes from a “well” on someone else’s land. I hadn’t realised, until we went there, just how far away we were from the water source. I guess my house was built when there were very few other houses in the valley, so building a pipe from another house’s well was still probably cheaper than building a separate well.
You are probably wondering why I have put the word “well” in quotation marks the first time I used it. I don’t think there is really another translation for “brønn” than “well” but it isn’t a well in the way I would think of one. In the UK, a well is dug deep in the ground until the ground water is revealed. Usually it’s circular and very deep. Here in Norway, it’s common for water to be taken from an inlet in a stream or river, and that is what our “well” is.
And so, with thoughts that the long pipe bringing water from the well the house might be blocked, the plumber’s first action was to return to base to collect a pump and some water. He then pumped water back up the pipe in the hope that, if it was a frog or a mouse in the pipe, it would be pushed out of the top end and (hopefully) washed away. I thought, for a moment, as water gushed back out of the pipe, that he had been successful, but after a fairly short time, it slowed again to a trickle and we were back at square one.
The next step, he explained to me, was to go up to the well and check the inlet valve, to make sure it wasn’t blocked up with anything. That was a likely scenario, he said, as there has been so much meltwater in recent weeks. The snow certainly has melted fast this year and there was a lot of it. He was going to go away now, he said, and once I had checked, I should call him back if there was still a problem.
I got into the car and drove along to the house of the well owner. We had been there on Thursday and they had told us their water in their house was running as normal. They had also told us that the well might not be easy to access yet, as there could still be snow. It was also Friday now, and a working day, so I wasn’t sure there would be anybody in. Under these circumstances, which meant it could be several hours before we could get an answer, the plumber going away seemed not unreasonable. Quite unexpectedly though, the young man who opened the door told us that he had actually gone up and checked the well. Everything looked okay with it, he said, the entrance to our outlet pipe included.
I had expected it might be hours before we found out (I didn’t know where the well actually was, so we couldn’t have checked it ourselves) but in actual fact it was only a few minutes. Knowing that the plumber wouldn’t even be back in Finnsnes, I called him and told him the news, but instead of coming back, he told me he didn’t know what to do next and would have to consult with colleagues.
I waited for an hour and a half, but hadn’t heard anything. Given that it was now Friday afternoon and the weekend was coming up, with the thought in my head of having no flushing toilet and only a trickle of cold water all weekend, I sent him a message, asking whether he thought we perhaps needed to contact someone with a camera to check the pipe or even just that he could perhaps come back with someone more experienced, but despite the fact that my phone said the message had been delivered, after another hour and a half, I hadn’t heard anything back.
Had he been older, I might have waited longer, but I can remember being a young vet with not much experience, trying out my limited skills and, on not finding a solution, sending the clients home with something to try, and then booking them back for another evening when I wasn’t on duty, so that someone else would (hopefully) deal with it. I understand that feeling of being out of your depth and hoping the problem will resolve itself, and also the lack of client skills that make it easier not to call with updates, even if you are trying to organise something. I didn’t know which it was, but I thought that if I left it, I might well find myself stuck. It had been almost impossible to find someone earlier, and time was getting short. And so I rang the one number that I knew would result in action, which was the emergency number for the insurance company.
Last time I discussed Norwegian insurance, I raved about how good they were and how much better they were at paying out than UK insurance companies. My faith was slightly shaken after the last time, as they decided the problem with my drainage pipes had happened before I bought the house, and therefore they decided that they weren’t liable, however experience said that they would certainly get things moving and indeed they did.
They provide an advisor, who will get in touch with the relevant people for you. They know all the numbers to call and probably warrant more attention from busy workers than an unknown number. In no time at all, the young plumber was back and this time he had someone from another company with him. Now they had lots of water, which I understood they were going to try to pump through again, which I think they did, to no avail. But having not resolved the problem, this time they set up a temporary solution. We now have an 800L water tank in the garden and a pump outside my bedroom window to pump it into the house. It isn’t drinking water, but at least we have enough now so that we can flush the toilet and have showers over the weekend.
Working through the weekend was probably out of the question. I think most British people will probably be raising their eyebrows at that, but in Norway, lots of things have to wait, and here in the north, the pace of life is much slower, even than in the south west of Norway, where I used to live. They did give me a future outline this time, which is something a client should never be left without. On Monday, the advisor will come out and will hopefully explain more about what’s going to happen. It seems that the likeliest scenario is that there has been some shifting of the earth, which has resulted in the pipe becoming kinked or possibly broken. The plumbers seemed to think it might be necessary to dig up the entire length of the pipe, but I am hoping that there will be a better solution. There must be means for finding where pipes run, other than digging all the way from one end or the other. Hopefully on Monday, I will find out.
But for now, as I said before, there is a pump outside my bedroom window, with a plug leading through the window. I have to switch it off at night, but while it’s on, the window has to be open. I’m hoping that they find a better solution before the first big wave of man-eating mosquitoes arrives.
I guess that living up here, with the extremes of the weather, there will always be more wear and tear on property than in more temperate climes. There’s always a risk, buying a house, but it would be a near impossible situation if I end up with a bill running into tens of thousands of kroner, or worse. I am keeping my fingers crossed that the insurance will cover it. I also go on holiday next Friday and John is going away to do some lambing for the weekend, so I hope that I won’t have to leave Andrew on his own without everything being under control. I will keep you updated as things unfold, but for now, I wish you a happy weekend.
A Vet’s Life 