Wednesday June 17th 2015. Flight from Rossvol, airport of Moi I Rana (N), to Dusseldorf (Germany)

Dat koningspad wordt in ieder geval cool

The Kungslede in two weeks will be cool

Dat koningspad over 2 weken wordt me nog wat

Snow all over the Kings Road

Yesterday in Mo I Rana I had ordered a taxi to take me to the airport this morning. I asked the driver what it was like to live in Mo I Rana. Well, his children and his family live here, so for him this was the place to be etc. Do you understand? Yes, I understood, I think. He told about a bike ride where all Norwegian taxi companies joined in the fight against cancer.  Though I could not help thinking: if you stop smoking, cancer might be better combatted. But, as I said before, life is too short to be consistent.

Cute, such a small airfield, much smaller than the Maastricht-Aachen Airport or Eindhoven in the Netherlands. I believe it is called Widerøe airport. I was one of the first to check in at the desk. Is my backpack allowed as hand luggage? No, that is too large, the official kindly replied. I put it down here just in front of the check-in desk to quickly make a film shot outside. Ten min. later I come back to my backpack. A row of passengers is waiting to check in. Turns out my backpack, still waiting against the incheck desk, already has a brand and my boarding card  already is on top of it. The incheck official smiles at me kindly, and runs away for a while again. For coffee ?, pee? Everything goes quiet. Strongly reminds me of slow food, city slow (Vaals). I like that. Though I sometimes think: always only slow doesn’t get you far.

On the way home I think of all the things that start again tomorrow, First a cremation of a deceased friend. Next Thursday morning’s weekly lunch at noon with the workers at our medical office, the sports club at Thursday night. Visiting family and friends, condoleances to relatives of deceased patients, fixing the garden alright, the vineyard, inspecting my sheep and Highland cattle, cleaning their stables, preparing Sweden’ s long distance path Kungslede etc. etc. Slow must be in your head, otherwise you overrun yourself.. .  In two planes I was placed all the way in the back. Such a dirty old backpacker, last nights immaculate front desk lady probably thought. While shortly before I washed my clothes and even myself and I was shaved. My shoes she couldn’t have smelled. Probably she disliked my wild, lush hair! Haha.

In SAS magazine I read something about some Elisabeth Tarras-Wahlberg: if you do not have dreams, you die. I would add: if you do not at least try to realize some dreams, you have not lived. Talking about dreams, I find it wonderful how the aboriginals of Australia viewed the creation of the world. In the beginning there was only a dream world. Every step a man makes creates a piece of the world. Each step creates a piece of reality. I find that much more poetic than the vision to be cast on this earth and then being squeezed into a pipeline, from which you will be hunted from the cradle to the grave, with the illusion, your life is secure by insurances against hazards.
Some pictures from the airplane show snowy mountains and frozen lakes, where in two weeks, when Han and I will walk there, it should be spring. Pictures. And above the clouds intensely blue. All the skies are blue (da). I think of the music band the Mama’s and Papa’s. A golden oldy from long ago.
After switching planes a few times, hanging around in airports and getting annoyed again and loss of WiFi connection again, I finally arrive in Dusseldorf (G). The means of transport in Germany I found on the website of DB, Deutsche Bahn and that way I quickly had my connection with the train to Aachen (G), where I met the young lady with whom I have been friends for 37 years. So not only SINCE she was 37 ! She has canceled a dinner party, to come and pick me up. That must be true love. On the other hand, fortunately my child’s hand is quickly filled (I’m easily pleased).
I do not know if my blog will be silent for a while. June 30th I will be back at the King’s Road in Hemavan (N).
Home, sweet home, Chicago (who played that number again? Blues Brothers?).
Gosh, the dark starts early here in the Netherlands!

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