Sunday June 14th 2015. Hemavan-Tärnaby Sweden, 76 km. hitch hiking

14- 06- 2015   |  
Harrie Huijben
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Gratis koffie en soep bij Napoli. Achter mij halfzatte, maar aardige Noor

Free coffe and soup at Napoli. Behind me a half drunk, but friendly Norwegian guy.

imageBarren scenery, trees without leaves. Far away rendeer on the road.

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Lakes are all frozen. Got a ride from this Norwegian guy.

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Norwegian/Swedish frontier.

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I intended to go and sleep here. Only good I didn´t walk 37 km. to this cabin, ´cause it was closed. No other place to sleep.

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Already in Hemavan-Sweden.

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Still much snow on the Kungsleden, that we want to walk in 2 weeks.

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My hostal, camera not in right position

 

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Tosca is used to waiting outside a couple of hours.

Now my leg´s tendinitis finally can get a 2 weeks rest. Today or tomorrow I’ll hitch across the frontier to Hemavan in Sweden, find there a place for dog Tosca and then I’ll have another week left to get to the airport, 100 km. to the North, in Mo I Rana (Norway). So plenty of time. So no need to set my alarm. This morning doing some loundry. But  that clothing won´t be dry before tomorrow evening. Shall I leave then to Hemavan/Sweden tomorrow? I decided to walk 1 km to the village once more. To the Italian restaurant Napoli, whose owner actually is Turkish. He had invited me for coffee at 11 am, which I assume I´ll have to pay for. My landlord told me last night that this Turkish family also has Italian restaurants across the Swedish border, inter alia in Hemavan. Maybe that’s an opportunity to get there. I better go to Napoli again. Pending the stroke of eleven o’clock I start writing my blog, sitting on a bench outside, in front of restaurant Napoli and opposite of the church. People start entering the church, because today is Sunday. Mostly women and girls wearing their national dress. The men and boys in suits, with a bow tie or tie, a bit like in the Nl. in the old days. Yes, a remnant of that old time I still experienced when I was young.
My older brother Jack and I were stimulated to go to morning mass in Heerlen (Nl) in the Akerstraat at least twice a week. This regimen is stopped for my younger sister and brother. They will be thinking: what is Harry talking about? The times were changing. Before Saints Day and All Souls Day, at the end of Oct-beginning Nov. brother Jack and I earned indulgences for the souls in purgatory. Any prayer for an indulgence rescued one soul into heaven, I was told. An indulgence were six Our Fathers, 6 Holy Marys , 6 `honor to the Lord`s. Usually that took a while. Between each two indulgences one had to leave the church briefly. I never understood why. And however quickly I finished my seremony, and I did it damn fast, always Jack was a quarter of a second faster. I have always remembered because it was impossible to pray still faster than I did. Now I have my doubts about Jacks indulgencies. Chances are that his saved souls just before the gates of heaven were still be denied to enter. Then he will have to compensate much. Even in those days I already thought this was not a real fair system to earn heaven. The great pleasure to behold God had to be earned in other ways. By the way, I enjoyed other things than beholding God and it has remained so.
What is that whistling? My Turkish Italian, do not even know his name, beckoning me inside. It was not 11 o’clock yet.
I am now at Napoli, 11:09. My Turkish friend doesn’t react, when I ask him how to get to Sweden. He is very helpful with all kinds of suggestions, but that doesn’t help me much. Yet another cup of coffee. Tosca is  obnoxious all morning, biting my toes, later socks, next shoes, tore plastic bags apart in my room. I had released her leash for 1 min. I’m afraid she’ll bite my electronics. She already ruined my glasses once. Kept scratching and pushing me. I had to give her a corrective slap. That helped 1 min. Now she is outside Napoli, fixed to a tree. She sees me sit inside and fortunately she is quiet.
Another Napolitan coffee and then again 1 km. walking back to my room. Maybe I should just grab my stuff and stand along the road. There is nothing else I can do here. On the other hand, my plane will leave the 23 rd, so plenty of time left. Walking to my next address Hemavan (Sweden), is not an option: 75 km. empty country without people, many kilometers up to the Swedish border, without possible pause place / restaurant and barely stopping places to hitch hike. Besides, I do not want to overload my leg. If I don’t walk much the tendinitis doesn’t bother me. Ten km. walking is not a problem, but partial rest will still be better.
On google I found a cabin on the way to Hemavan, viz. at Kotbukta. Photo. A possible stop for the night?

At restaurant Napoli I was still offered soup with bread and he did not want me to pay anything. I put some money in the tip jar.
Now it’s 5:45 pm. At 1 pm I was on the road, cardboard sign, made at my Turkish friend’s place, with his magic marker pen and a cardboard box. Not even a chicken on the road. No traffic at all. It was just about dry, but a cold wind. My flannel shirt was still damp in the backpack, so I wore one layer less. This standing in the cold should not last too long. But luck was on my side again. After 30 min. courageously shivering a car stopped just off the roundabout. I wanted to open the door, but the handle was hanging loosely! Yes, he laughs with a huge fence with holes in his mouth, I go to Hemavan-Sweden. And I love dogs. Hop in both Tosca and you. First rearrange the indescribable mess in the rear bench. Ho, I say, put Tosca in the trunk. She is used to it and it doesn’t harm her. No, that’s pathetic, said Sven. But from the rear she often tries to come forward, I say. Tosca nevertheless in the rear seat and there we go. Because of the warmth she fell asleep immediately. Well done.

Sven is from the Norwegian place of Trofos that I reached yesterday after 12 km. of walking and where I started hitch hiking. 32 Y. old. Together with his ex he has a 4-years-old daughter, but recently he got engaged to a Swedish lady, who has three children. Sven has done a green training, works on excavators and draglines, loves the outdoors. To see his 4-years-old daughter from time to time, he drives every 2 weeks, 300 km. to and 300 km. back between his current residence in Sweden and Trofos (Norway). He often took hitchhikers. And now I was the one he could make happy. He talked about the difference in wages between the two countries, about the Saamen and their reindeer, about his summer job as a goatherd in the mountains, his winter trips into the mountains etc. etc.
A short film at the Swedish border. No border customs.  My worries about Tosca’s customs problems were in vain. I see no customs officer. Sven said that in the old days at the frontier he used to pee on Sweden. Now, with my Swedish stepchildren, we are on the Swedish side and we pee on Norway. I take a picture of you, he said. 
Yesterday on google on a detailed map I had seen a sign of a cabin halfway today’s trail. I had considered to stay there for the night. When we passed the locked cabin, located at a still totally frozen lake, I could not resist taking a picture. I was very glad I did not walk 37 km. to that place, because it was closed. At the spot was a car with a Norwegian and two Thai ladies. We talked with them for a few minutes. Photo. 25 Km. across the border of Sweden the road split. Where do you want to go, asks Sven. I’m fine, I said, but I prefer to the left, 9 km. to Hemavan. Sven had to go right, 10 km. to Tärnaby. Well, he says, First I’ll take you to Hemavan and then I’ll return to go my way in the other direction. What a guy! Too good for this world.
And then where to walk next? The first best restaurant I ordered coffee and right away I asked the serving lady, a great example of a Swedish beauty, if I could talk with her for a minute. That was O.K. She called for a camping place for me and she gave me a possible address for dog Tosca to stay, when I would go home to the Nl. to see my new grandchild to come. Amazing, half an hour after arriving in Sweden the majority of my problems already solved. And that croocked Canadian guy, whom I gave a ride months ago in the Nl. and with whom I had diner in my house and who slept in my house, had said: I hate Europe and Europeans. My conclusion: Assholes meet assholes! Europeans are O.K!
All right, now is 6:25 pm. And I am in my cottage. Time to make calls for hosting Tosca. Holy shit. Again some honkytonk lady’s answering machine with a lot of chatter in Swedish. After the ‘beep’ I recorded my dog ​​message, hoping that she will call back tomorrow. Otherwise I might have to wait until she comes back tomorrow afternoon from her work and then meet her in the evening. This doen’t help me a bit. Tomorrow I want to go to the tourist office to ask for help for the asylum of Tosca. All the ones who help me are ladies, who have no feeling for the beauty of another lady, viz. my Tosca. Otherwise it would ‘ve been arranged in a moment. Tomorrow new opportunities. Another day, another dollar.
At 8 pm I decided to get some greasy stuff next door: closed! Then I’ll go back to the first restaurant in Hemavan this afternoon, where the Swedish babe gave me the address of the dog’s lady. It was 8.30 pm. We are also closed from 8 pm., says the same servant lady. But nevertheless I got a burger with fries and mayonnaise. So again a successful day, only … Tosca yet . By the way, whenever I cross a border I appeal to generous donors, to donate an amount to the account of Mama Alice. An organization that 10 y. ago was set up by our own Frederique Kallen of Hoogcruts in Noorbeek (Nl). She now lives in Peru and is committed to the plight of street children, especially in Ajacucho. She received the transparency prize for her work , so you know that your mony is spent well. Bank and account number can be found, inter alia, under the section Mama Alice, on my site www.ponyanddogtrip.com.

 
 

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