This path is easy going.
A rest for a second.
This is easier than yesterday’s killing swamps.
Lunch break. Burning feet because of the wet shoes.
Finally asphalt. This way the 30 km. walk much faster. Not many bugs.
My alter ego following me.
At the right the house of Mikkel Bongo. Left my old yellow shag
Rather shabby. This cabin’s roof was leaking. Closing the door was not necessary according to Bongo.
I also could choose this cabin. Difficult, so much luxury to choose from.
My little palace.
A man is keeping household, that’s clear!
Kitchen corner of my room.
Cozy and messy like a student’s room.
But the matrass was good and clean and that’s “basic”, aha!
Drinking coffee in Bongo’s cozy living room.
Bongo’s living.
Fortunately nobody who arranges (hides) Bongo’s stuff.
Bongo’s coffee is good.
This morning the sky was all gray, but it did not rain. I packed the all wet tent, next to the Raisjav’rihytta, put on my wet socks and shoes, and headed for the 30 km. away located Kuonovuoppi cabin. That would be the last bivac before I would come back to the inhabited world of the Sami settlement Kautokeino. And hope that we will not be disappointed again like last night. At the Kuonovuoppihytta must be electricity, internet, a hot meal, at Mrs. Bongo, the owner and even a sauna.
I had seen that the Nordkallotleden route crossed an additional 34 km. of swamps and everything that goes along with it. Undoubtedly again through impossible terrain, but there was also an alternative: a gravel path, or even a road. Now I think: if you can walk a road from A to B in the Netherlands, you are not going to dredge through the wet meadows, through brooks and soaking bushes, because it is sporty. I was so tired yesterday, even more because of lack of food, that today I chose for the gravel road and later even asphalt road. The weather was nice, so there were hardly any mosquito’s on the road leading in between the marshes. It also went well because of the much lighter backpack than days ago. But yes, 30 km. on the road, after sleeping bad and with bad food, is not that easy. I counted 13 cars during the 9 hours walk, including one taxi. That taxi was tempting. Just a little stretch. That’s a no no, uncle Harrie. And thus I finally arrive at my destination, walking a double stage for the third day in a row.
Here it is, my promising Kuonovuoppi. A poorly maintained house. surrounded by a number of wooden cabins, some with rotting boards, paint that blades everywhere, windows so dirty that you can hardly look through it, one with the door wide open, because there’s a hole in the roof I’ll hear later. Photos.
I had seen that the Nordkallotleden route crossed an additional 34 km. of swamps and everything that goes along with it. Undoubtedly again through impossible terrain, but there was also an alternative: a gravel path, or even a road. Now I think: if you can walk a road from A to B in the Netherlands, you are not going to dredge through the wet meadows, through brooks and soaking bushes, because it is sporty. I was so tired yesterday, even more because of lack of food, that today I chose for the gravel road and later even asphalt road. The weather was nice, so there were hardly any mosquito’s on the road leading in between the marshes. It also went well because of the much lighter backpack than days ago. But yes, 30 km. on the road, after sleeping bad and with bad food, is not that easy. I counted 13 cars during the 9 hours walk, including one taxi. That taxi was tempting. Just a little stretch. That’s a no no, uncle Harrie. And thus I finally arrive at my destination, walking a double stage for the third day in a row.
Here it is, my promising Kuonovuoppi. A poorly maintained house. surrounded by a number of wooden cabins, some with rotting boards, paint that blades everywhere, windows so dirty that you can hardly look through it, one with the door wide open, because there’s a hole in the roof I’ll hear later. Photos.
There appeared to be no one in the house. . Telephone number of the owner on the door, but the phone has no network coverage here. A little further away from the house the phone wasn’t answeredThen simply inspecting the plot. I put my belongings in one of the wooden cabins that is not closed. Indeed, there is power, so light, electricity, heating, even a single-pan stove. I install, start charging the electronics (camera, movie camera, phone, i-pad). I exchange my shoes that have been wet since days, with plastic water shoes and see why I felt chores today. After 7000 km. that should not happen anymore? The soles of my subjects (my feet) were completely white because of the warm wetness. Well, my feet arrived here right in time. In my cabin there were 4 small rooms. In the neighbor’s room, I turn on the electric heater to dry my shoes, socks and tent. In the neighbour’s room, because thus my own room won’t get too hot for Tosca and me. Cooling my room by opening the windows is no option because of the bloodthirsty mosquito’s.
On another cabin is written with large letters “SANITAER” and there I see a shower, a non-heated sauna, even wc’s. But where is the owner? I want to go ask the neighbors 100m away and I see a car passing. They stop at my sign. Where is Mrs. Bongo? Oh, she died a couple of years ago. The son will probably come home tonight. And if he does not come home, I think, then I have all that I need, except internet and phone connection.
And so it was. Mikkel! (Where did I hear that name before?) Bongo came home in the evening. (My younger brother Michiel’s pet name when he was a baby was Mikkel)The meal of rendeer meat, described in my booklet, I could not get of course. Internet was closed due to a broken connection because Mikkel didn’t pay in time. Come inside, Mikkel Bongo invited me. One indescribable mess inside. Paper, clothes, pots, piles of rubbish everywhere. Photo. Mikkel offered coffee. We talked some about his Sami family, who, like many other Sami, married other Norwegians and left, to the city. My family is spread all across Norway, he said. I thought that also applies to me, with daughter Marieke and I now in the two ends of Norway. But more: we have family all over the world: The Netherlands, Belgium, Norway, France, England, Poland, Canada, Australia, Peru, to name but a few. Young Bongo is 63 years old, just one year younger than I am. That already creates a bound. Unmarried. Works as a free lance cook at weddings, confirmations, funerals. In earlier days in the hospital, but since the hospital got a modern Norwegian kitchen, its Sami cuisine was no longer necessary. He had been visited by French top cheff cooks, many years ago, who wanted to expand their repertoire with Sami cuisine, of course, in France. They praised him as the best cook of the world; (watch: all Norwegians are hunters! so they exaggerate). But whether he now still is the best?
On another cabin is written with large letters “SANITAER” and there I see a shower, a non-heated sauna, even wc’s. But where is the owner? I want to go ask the neighbors 100m away and I see a car passing. They stop at my sign. Where is Mrs. Bongo? Oh, she died a couple of years ago. The son will probably come home tonight. And if he does not come home, I think, then I have all that I need, except internet and phone connection.
And so it was. Mikkel! (Where did I hear that name before?) Bongo came home in the evening. (My younger brother Michiel’s pet name when he was a baby was Mikkel)The meal of rendeer meat, described in my booklet, I could not get of course. Internet was closed due to a broken connection because Mikkel didn’t pay in time. Come inside, Mikkel Bongo invited me. One indescribable mess inside. Paper, clothes, pots, piles of rubbish everywhere. Photo. Mikkel offered coffee. We talked some about his Sami family, who, like many other Sami, married other Norwegians and left, to the city. My family is spread all across Norway, he said. I thought that also applies to me, with daughter Marieke and I now in the two ends of Norway. But more: we have family all over the world: The Netherlands, Belgium, Norway, France, England, Poland, Canada, Australia, Peru, to name but a few. Young Bongo is 63 years old, just one year younger than I am. That already creates a bound. Unmarried. Works as a free lance cook at weddings, confirmations, funerals. In earlier days in the hospital, but since the hospital got a modern Norwegian kitchen, its Sami cuisine was no longer necessary. He had been visited by French top cheff cooks, many years ago, who wanted to expand their repertoire with Sami cuisine, of course, in France. They praised him as the best cook of the world; (watch: all Norwegians are hunters! so they exaggerate). But whether he now still is the best?
