Yesterday we went for an ‘easy walk’.

Well, it was meant to be an easy walk until my hosts — my guides – forgot where exactly where we were going.

<Whispers>

‘It’s just over the next rise…’

‘No, I’m sure it’s over there…’

‘Well, let’s just go all over the mountains. I’m sure Seb will be fine… Look at him, he’s all big and strong and…’

<They think I can’t hear them. But my hearing is heightened in extreme circumstances…>

“Hey guys, what’s happening? My legs are like jelly — they still haven’t recovered after our warm up mountain climb yesterday — and my heart is suggesting in no uncertain terms that to continue would be akin to harakiri. You keep saying our destination is ‘just over there’… it’s been two hours, three chasms, four moraines and a handful of waterfalls…”

‘It is just over here! Come on!’

… (Something tells me they’re enjoying this way too much)…

In the end, it turned out that we’d climbed about a kilometer above our actual destination. But I did get to sit beside a waterfall and watch the fog slowly blow in and lazily fold its way over the hills. Visibility got down to about 5 meters and then… it just blew away. Magical!

Two photos for you this morning — one from about half way up the hill, one from the bottom. I have a bunch of ’snaps’ that I’ll probably share at the end of the trip. Me looking like death, me sprawled out on a rock, me skinny dipping in a pool beneath a waterfall — that kind of thing.

In other news, I’m still not sleeping more than 2 or 3 hours each night. We’re going to try hanging black bags over the windows, see if that helps. I had fish pie last night and it was lovely. Still no whale, still no puffin — but I’ll try to rectify that in the next few days.

Oh, and there’s a wet t-shirt context next Wednesday! I thought those had been outlawed by feminists around the world… obviously not in the Faroes. Yay!

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No time to sort through photos, let alone try to get some up on Flickr and the blog!

But here I am anyway, if only for a few short sentences.

We had CLEAR SKIES today; the first time since I got here! It was only the second time I’ve seen the sun in the last 11 days (and this is ‘good weather’ apparently…) Anyway, clear skies meant it was finally time to get out into the open seas and see the islands from another angle.

(Insert a big paragraph on just how beautiful the Faroe Islands are when the weather is good — a paragraph I’m currently unable to write as I have no time and I’m too tired. I’ll try to do it justice when I get home. Even then, I don’t know if I’ll have the right words — the fjords… my God the fjords…!)

(Arms are out-stretched for balance!! My arms are way too big, sheesh… monkey-man!)

Later, we went out sunset hunting. The best sunset was over Torshavn, the capital, but there was no where to get a good view of it. So we drove just outside and this is the result:

That’s the ’sunset’ box ticked for the Faroe Islands Collection… Now, at 5am, with it as bright as day outside, I go to bed. Adieu.

Hi!

I’m way behind, aren’t I? And this will be the first blog entry that I’ve written before 4am so it might even make a little more sense than usual! I might even use a few long words, if I’m feeling saucy.

Today I ate puffin! I won’t go into too much detail as some people might find it disturbing (let’s face it, they’re really cute). It tasted awesome. The best meat I’ve ever tasted; like duck, chicken and pigeon all rolled into one delicious, delectable package. And the GRAVY! God knows how it was made — probably from the fat of the puffin and the love juice of 42 vestal virgins — but it was so good. On the side we had a portion of boiled-and-gently-roasted potatoes which were also divine. After covered in puffin gravy of course.

In other news — went to G! Festival yesterday. Left around 6pm, got home at 5am — and the best bit despite the great music from Teitur (the closest thing to ‘international pop artist’ in the Faroes) and Frændur (one of their ‘legendary’ rock/folk bands from the 80s) — and the best bit was that we got both another sunset and, this time, a sunrise too! The beautiful Nordic sun slipping out of the Atlantic and into a glacial valley, illuminating the lazy, deep-purple fjords. And then the light as it begins to crest over a nearby cloud-topped hill creating shades of pinky-grapefruit that I thought impossible to find in nature.

Anyway, two photos — first sunset and then dawn.

(Note the seagull in the top left!)

There’s a huge national holiday coming up on Tuesday so I might not be around a lot; I don’t even know if there’ll be lots of photos to come either. There’ll be lots of stories though I am sure… If I am sober enough to remember them…

We’re off to Tórshavn, the capital city, for Ólavsøka!

Continued from yesterday.

She tried to lead me with a sweaty hand towards the village of tents. Not one to be led by a drunk – at least while sober — I tried to distance myself, walking behind her to the right. I had almost slowed down to a standstill while she quickened her pace, walking ahead. She must’ve noticed my apprehension, or more simply that my crotch and stomach were no longer within groping distance because she turned around. She smiled; more of a sneer truth be told. But she gave it her best effort.

She thrusts out a waving, stumpy limb. Why do I have to be so damn weak for short girls? “It’s just up here.”A tent, right in the middle of 500 other tents. We picked our way between illuminated tents and small, smoky fires. All about us girls and boys drank and smoked, already at or on their way to numb nirvana. We finally reach the tent. She bends over in front of me to unzip the nylon. The sound of the zipper’s plastic teeth being teased asunder seems unnaturally loud. For a brief moment I can think of nothing but sex. I look down at her ass; it looks good. Short legs and chubby ankles have never appeared so appealing. My hand is suddenly out of its pocket and swinging towards her ass. Thwack. Eep! She doesn’t turn around but instead wiggles her hips. I look to the sky and grin: at myself, and any gods that might be watching. But then I see it, the glassy, almost-obsidian ocean. The fjord looks beautiful. It must be photographed!

I grasp the camera that’s hanging around my neck, take a quick but photo and enjoy lingering glance of her ass — and flee. Not recklessly — tripping face-first into a camp fire or drunkard is never cool — but fast enough that I can hear her calling out for me, unable to place me amongst the crowd of youths.

Quickening my pace down the hill, out of tent shanty town and safely out of syphilis’ reach, I pull out my phone. Feeling a bit like Keanu Reeves I dial my friend on the boat: “Wizard! Get me out of here!”

“But Neo… don’t you want to see just how deep the rabbit hole goes?” I could hear there was more than a little mirth being had at my expense on the boat.

I should’ve asked for a ‘hard line’ or tried to pull off the red pill/blue pill dialogue over the phone.

“Can you pick me up or not…? I have a feeling that if I look behind me I’ll see her chasing… And I don’t think I’m drunk enough to deal with the aftermath of what I just did.”

Five minutes later I was on the boat and whisked to safety and taking photos.

I’m sure there’s a moral to this story…

If you’ve been stalking me on either Twitter or Facebook, the next piece of news probably won’t come as a surprise. Truth be told, I’m going a little crazy here in cold, grey, snowy, dismal England. I don’t ever recall having this much trouble getting through the winter — something has changed within me, something is not the same. It’s like… the rules of the game have changed and I’m no longer satisfied with sitting here in front of my computers.

So I’m going to NORWAY, baby. Middle of March through until some time in April. I will experience the FJORDS and… er… I don’t know — cute, blonde inbred Scandinavian Übermensch? (That’s a Google Images link by the way — I’m not going to go and pick favourites, sheesh.)

(Photo not mine — just showing you what a fjord can look like…)

But yes, despite the brief moments of testosteronic superiority, the real reason I’m going is the fjords. Often described as the most beautiful natural wonders of the world, the fjords of Norway line the entire coast of the Scandinavian Peninsula and make up 7% of Norway’s total area. For some reason, Norway has one of the lowest densities in the world with only 4.8 million people in the entire country. Considering they have one of the best standards of living, and a huge income from oil, I really have no idea why no one lives there. Maybe there’s a disease (like the Faroe Islands), or maybe it’s the ol’ ‘it’s too damn cold for 80% of the year’ thing.

My friend in Bergen has a house on (by?) Hardangerfjord, which is one of the biggest. Have a look at Svein Ulvund’s photos of the fjord and nearby — insane, eh? March is when they’re meant to be at their finest, after most of the snow has been and gone. I hope I can do them justice — and I may need to buy a new camera before I go…

Anyway, I’ll be going to Bergen and Trondheim — here’s a map:

I actually had no idea they were so far north… Trondheim is further north than my trip to the Faroe Islands! At this time of year, there probably won’t be much sunlight — but by the time March rolls around, it should be at least 4C or 39F… so not that cold, really. Yet again I’ll miss the Arctic Circle by a few hundred miles, dammit!

We’ll try to drive around a bit, but I think only one of my hosts has a car — we’ll likely stay close to Bergen and Trondheim. Maybe they have skidoos that we can buzz around and churn snow with? Our plans are still in their formative stage, but I’ll be booking flights in the next few days… so there’s no going back.

If anyone’s been to Norway (Chele?), now’s the time to throw in any advice. And does anyone live in Norway? Maybe I can pay a fleeting visit!

* * *

Because it’s Tuesday, I have photos; mostly alternates for yesterday’s 52 Weeks. They’re not amazing, but perhaps they’re interesting — you decide!

(You might not be able to see it on your screen, but the leaf is reflecting a pink sunset — if you can’t see it, trust me! It’s pretty!)

(Again, there’s some lovely pinks and blues in this photo, but you might not be able to see them! I chased the birds around for ages, but they finally settled down in the tree for a photo. So kind of them.)

The last two are obviously a bit ‘experimental’ — my favourite bits are the golden ‘halos’ where the sunset hits the water at an odd angle. Very cool.

I’m going to run out of Norway-related gasms before I actually get there, I can tell. My flights are now booked, though — I’ll be departing England on the 18th of March, and I’ll be in Norway until the 4th of April. I have just one month to prepare for a rather impromptu excursion. I don’t have the gear — the clothes, the snow boots! — nor do I have anything other than a bunch of couches to sleep on.

I’m staying with students, y’see. Institutionally-painted, box-room dwelling students. I graduated five years ago, but for some reason or another, most of my international jaunts since then have featured me staying at some kind of school or university. And I always end up getting horribly drunk — there’s something about being a student, at least in Europe, that implies drunken behaviour.

I presume Norway will be the same, just more expensive — a pint of beer (500ml) is $10 (£6). Much like the Faroe Islands, not much grows in Norway — some hardy grains, sheep, cattle, goats, pigs and potatoes. Oh, and fish of course — so basically, they import everything. A pizza costs $20, and they’re at the top of the Big Mac Index. I’m relying on the generosity of my hosts — surely, to them, a pizza is ‘just $20′, while to me it’s ‘TWENTY DOLLARS??!’.

Anyway… fjords. The main feature of any trip to Norway, other than the delicious fish, petroleum products and girls, is fjords. The definition is a little bit wishy-washy, depending on where in the Anglo-Norse world you happen to be, but generally it describes a narrow inlet from the sea. Technically, if you’re a geography nerd, fjords are U-shaped valleys formed by glaciers (mostly during the last ice age). As the glaciers drifted out into the sea, they carved valleys that have been eroded over thousands of years to form the fjords we see today. There are fjords all over the world, but Norway has much more than any other country — Scotland, Greenland, Canada and New Zealand have a few, but that’s about it. If you click the photo above, you can see the fjords that dot the west coast of Norway. If you think they look beautiful there… just wait and see what I bring back!

As for the actual photographing of them, I think I’m ready. I’ve cleaned my lenses, ordered a new camera and hired a Swedish gypsy to carry my bag and tripod — I’m ready. I don’t know which parts of Norway I’ll be seeing exactly — students aren’t so good at making plans for prospective visitors, at least not beyond ‘and now we drink!‘ — but I’ll see at least two of the big boys: Hardangerfjord and Trondheimsfjord. Trondheim is on its fjord, so it will be pretty hard to miss, while my host in Bergen has a house right on Hardangerfjord (which, believe it or not, derives its name from ‘hard anger’, probably referring to weather conditions). I don’t think we’ll make it to Sognefjord (the biggest one), because it’s right in between my two stops. Other than fjord-spotting, I’ve been threatened with long, healthy hikes in the mountains… and skiing. I haven’t worn skis since I was two years old. But how hard can it be…?

Anyhoo, I haven’t been sleeping very wellI didn’t manage to take any photos of my own this week (except the fun Valentine diptych with Abi), so I’m afraid you ‘only’ get a bunch of fjord photos that I found while scouring the Internet. Most of these fjord photos can be clicked for larger versions, which I really suggest you look at.

(Hardangerfjord, the one near Bergen)

(Sognefjord, which is a massive 200KM long — the second largest in the world, after Scoresby Sund in Greenland… which I have no intention of visiting… yet)

(The view from Trondheimsfjord)

(Maybe I should get a photo of me in the same place… would make a good new ‘explorer’ photo.)

(Beautiful Romsdalsfjord, but I don’t think I’ll get there on this trip… alas!)

I’m off to Norway in three days! Wheee!

I’ve now obtained a warm jacket (actually a snowboarding jacket — I’m so cool) and some very warm wool socks (again, snowboarding/skiing socks). Ostensibly, I will be walking — not a lot, but more than usual (i.e. more than none) — so the socks make a lot of sense. I actually need to get some new boots too — my current Timberland boots are 7 or 8 years old, but when a new pair cost something like £150 ($230), it’s hard to bite the bullet.

I have a scarf and hat (a deerstalker — still not sure about wearing it in public). The guys at the snowboarding shop said I should get a ‘buff’ — seriously, like a muff, but… buff. One of those neck warmer things. I don’t think it’ll be that cold or bitter in Norway though.

All that remains… is pants. I have none.

(Click for larger… though I can’t imagine why you’d want to…)

Both kinds of pant, British and American. I must buy some in the next couple of days (so that I have time to break them in). Do I go for the full, ‘long’ variety… or do I stick to boxer shorts? Do I wear denim and cotton (I don’t own jeans), or is there such thing as ‘warm’ trousers? I don’t want to wear plastic waterproof pants or trousers (for similar reasons). I have an old pair of wool trousers I think.

I mean, I have boxer shorts… not many, but some. A couple of pairs. And pants — trousers — I have… well, nominally two pairs, but I only really wear one.

This is the problem when I don’t go out much. It’s very easy to just whack on some underwear, slap on some trousers and a t-shirt, plonk myself down in front of my computers and while away 16 hours before reversing the process. Now that Norway is only a few days away and I’ll be spending three weeks in the presence of other human beings, I better get some more clothing for my lower half. (Incidentally, I recently bought an eight-pack of socks, they went through the wash once, and now only three out of sixteen socks remain — how lame is that?)

Anyway, other than that little dilemma, I’m all ready for Norway! I’ll be spending seven days in Bergen and eleven in Trondheim. There will be many fjords. And Nordic beauties — it’s about time a British emissary was sent to reclaim what was unlawfully stolen away by the Vikings! And… er… well, there isn’t a whole lot else to do in Norway. Their primary exports are fuels, machinery… and fish. They also love their woollen goods — so basically this is going to be like the Faroe Islands, but without the fuel or machinery. And without the dried sheep and whale.

I actually don’t know what we’re going to do, except walk and carouse. I’m staying with students in Trondheim, so I imagine that’ll be quite rowdy. But even then, I’m very curious to find out what people actually do in Norway. They’re not a standard ‘Western’ nation that deals mainly in services. There isn’t going to be a ‘downtown’ Trondheim. I guess it’s a more social lifestyle there? When 50% of the country’s income is from exporting fuel, life has to be pretty easy, surely?

The weather’s looking good, too. Bergen is a balmy 3C (37F) during the day, while Trondheim is a little bit nippier — freezing during the day, down to -5 (23F) or -6 at night. (Of course, if you figure wind chill into the equation it drops to about -15C, but who’s counting…)

As for the blog, I need to spend the next few days finishing preparations, and shifting obligations to other hapless victims/helpful friends. As before, I’ll put the blog into its ‘resting state’. It’s like cryogenic suspension, stasis, but not as cool. A new header will appear at the top of the blog to remind you where I am, and that for a month posts will be both sporadic^[1] and erratic. I’ll likely stick to early-morning updates, but it’ll depend on just how debauched and drunk I get. I needn’t remind you of what happened in Poland…

Oh, and if you want to buy some photos, I’ll try to get them onto Etsy in a timely fashion. I actually want to enable sales right here on this site, but that’ll have to wait until after Norway.

Bon voyage, or as they say in Norwegian: god reise — or, if the going gets really tough, luftputefartøyet mitt er fullt av ål!

* * *

1. Did you know that ’sporadic’ comes from the same Greek root as ’spores’? As in, scattered far and wide.