Always “infrastructuring”
A short visit to Mikkel Bongo’s house. He was doing administration
And I got Norwegian fish soup from German Manfred. Delicious!
Cold. About 9 degrees C. and rather windy. Great for walking, because with this weather there are no winged animals. But I want to continue to work at my route to Cape North. Two more weeks to walk. Where to get food? Where is overnight accommodation? Are there roads, inland roads or do I have to “tramp” over untouched, always wet paths? Is it flat or mountainious? How much food do you get? I want to walk an average of about 25 km. a day. But what do you do if the distance to the next cabin is 30 or 35 km? For once that’s all right, but if it happens two or three times in a row?
In good weather and if I do not have to wear it all for too many days, that’s ao.k., but otherwise … So a lot of puzzles.
Yesterday at the local Tourist Information Center they did not know anything. The so-called Tourist Office was run by the receptionist of a (expensive) hotel. She knew about the city, in fact the village (3000 inhabitants) Kautokeino, but her knowledge beyond Kautokeino was zero. Good maps, 1: 50,000 or 1: 100,000, can not be obtained. Up to 1: 400,000 and I’ve already taken it from Nl. Planning is difficult that way. It is still 360 km. to Cape North.
After a morning exploring unclear maps and endlessly pooping, mostly in Norwegian, which I do not understand well, I more or less charted the first half of the remaining route. In the Netherlands I found a site that described the Kautokeino-Cape North 360 km stretch in 14 stages with beautifully sounding unspeakable names, such as Slubboskaiddijavri and Leaibevuotna. Those names appear to be spelled different on each map, because Sami language is not a written language, and I do not find half of them on the internet. Difficult planning then. That route is on no map, goes through the jungle, where never comes a tourist, at most a lost hunter. Also difficult to walk then. No campsite, no shop. I’m fed up with that. I change my route, but that kept me busy all evening until one o’clock last night and today (now it’s already 3.20 o’clock pm). I’m cold of sitting all day. When I look outside, I have to think of Jewish hidden Anne Frank, locked in her back room in A’dam. I see a cyclist stop here. Walk to him for a chat. Can I get coffee here, he asks? Nobody home. So the cyclist just goes on. Two bikes are available in the garden. Perhaps I can make a short tour with Tosca. All tires prove to be empty.
This morning a camper entered the yard. When they saw this messy, spoilt surroundings, they turned around again, without getting out of the car. While I withdraw for a moment for a sanitary stop, Tosca played with a reindeer skin, that she found in an open shed a little away, full of litter and rubbish, which is probably never used again. Around Mikkel’s house is high grass. Next to the front door, the only entrance, the grass is much closer, greener and higher, with whole bushes of nitrate loving weeds. Sign of strongly increased nitrogen poisoning. Here he probably throws his wastewater, urine bucket and whatever overboard.
Where does this man live from? This business does not florish at all. From time to time culinary high-quality sami cooking art in a tent, for a lost couple of tourists, will not be anough to keep this business running. Well, it does not work either. Makes me think Slow food, slow life, organic food, no stress, immer die Ruhe. Delicious? In a way. But it does mean marginal life, not realising your dreams. Always having to ask and say “thank you.” Without hard work you will not get far. Should one? Do you have to have something to be happy? Bullshit! Happiness is great for a moment, but with only happiness you can not reach far. To acclomplish something the hands must be out of the sleeves. But O.K., each one may choose his own life style.
Halfway here and Cape North I will come to the town of Alta. There I hope to meet Rudi in a week or so. Rudi wants to capture my arrival at Cape North in a movie. Tomorrow, Aug 13, he will leave the Nl., I believe. Tonight, I have to make arrangements with Rudi. Outside, 100m. from here, on the gravel road, because only there my mobile has connection.
In the evening Manfred from Bonn (Germany), staying in the neighbouring cabin, visits me. Had a large pan of delicious fish soup, which he had received from Norwegian inhabitants next to his cabin. Meanwhile, here is a bit of activity. I guess Manfred is about fifty. Is a lecturer of business administration. Walking since yesterday for two weeks, part of the 800 km. long Nordkalottleden. Had already walked other parts in previous years. Once upon a time, he took a sabattical year, like I do now, to make a world trip. Loves his wife according to the principle: who loves his wife leaves her home. Called her in my presence via Skype, so that they and I could also get in touch. Wie süss! (how sweet). Manfred told me that today, his first day, he sank all the way to his knees in the swamp. He had taken off his hiking shoes and put on his plastic waderships. Nice for our buzzing girlfriends. You have to be crazy to do this, he admitted. Because Manfred walks in my opposite direction, this means that my next day of walking goes through this swamp again.
Well, not me. Meanwhile I’m fed up with mosquito’s en wet moors. I’m going to walk North over a paved road today. Marshes are for ghosts, wandering souls of deceased, trolls and witches. And if they still were sweet witches, then it was still to be considered, but none of that. I believe I’m getting a little bit tired of walking. Just fooling myself thinking that the last 2 weeks will be the nicest. Keep on smiling (bis).
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