Wednesday July 15th 2015. From Sitojaure to Vakkotavare cabin, 22.5 km

Wachten bij Swinestuga op de boot over Sitojaure, samen met Nederlands gezin uit Assen

At Svinestuga waiting for the boat across Sitojaure. On Sitojaure it was chilly. In blue the Dutch man from Assen.

This morning at 9 a.m. a boat might possibly arrive at our Swinehut at Sitojaure Lake. A family was already waiting at the boating place, mosquito nets around the heads. After speaking English with them for a while, they appeared to be Dutch. Yesterday while rowing across the lake I saw and heard two Dutch girls with three dogs rowing in the opposite direction, so our communication was then very short and flawed.
Well, will the boat come, or doesn’t it? It came but was not supposed to pick us up because it was the regular boat service. If you were to be transferred by a wild boat, apart from that fixed boat service, you had to lift a flag and a samen shipper from across the lake would come and get you. And the Dutchman had hoisted the flag. That’s how it was on a board: If you want to be picked up, hoist the flag. In fact, the flag was a plastic water tank that had to be hoisted in a mast. The regular service boat, which came standard in the morning and evening, even if no flag was hoisted, did not want to get trouble with the samen shipper and left without us. I’ll call the samen shipper for you, he promised and then it will take about 20 minutes for him to come to you. We waited another hour: nothing. Suddenly, the boat of the regular service (normally only in the morning and in the evening) appeared again: a woman at the steering wheel: my husband called the samen. The Samen shipper can not come, so I from the regular service, come to pick you up. Hèhè, finally we get out of here. The shipper lady braught us ashore. I had planned to buy food supplies at the shop in their home. Nothing left, she said. I have Crohn’s disease (chronic bowel inflammation) and was unwell lately. I have not been able to prepare anything. He is a doctor, the Dutch family said, pointing at me. A whole consultation followed whether or not to use loperamide, prednisone, how much or not. A further story that she lived for many years in the rim of Lapland, but also had lived in England, Japan, a Caribbean island, and I do not know where else. Looks a little like Sidharta of writer Hermann Hesse, who, after a very successful life, was content with a simple job as a shipper.

Meanwhile it was already 10.45 a.m. At 3.55 pm. there is a boat at Saltoluokta on the same lake. That is another 22.5 km. If you run fast you might catch it. More and more snowfields and a half frozen lake indicated what the weather is like here. The path reached a very steep ice field, a few hundred meters wide and long. If you slipp there, your fall was eventually broken, together with your back and all the ribs, on the rocks below the icefield. And then I happen to have such a big, heavy, playful dog at the leash, that likes most of all popping in the snow. He probably looked forward to my rib cloves. Life-threatening! I found it so luguber that I toof off my back pack , held it between my legs, took out the camera to capture this precious moment. I thought, if I do not survive, this recording may become a popular utube movie. Grandpa’s last song!

Here I have to cross steep down hill.

Pretty steep. A stop for movie shooting

You don’t see very well in pictures how smooth and steep it is. Down are rocks. Don’t slip with dog and backpack.

Halfway I stopped for a short lunch break on the high plateau at a shelter. Photo. Untill now no mosquitoes on the highlands, cool wind. Tosca added to her ration three mice and a lemming, even while I kept her at the leash. And then people complaing that it’s so sad for my poor dog, so without mobile, tv, refrigerator and soft divan, where Tosca should wait 8 hours until her boss gets back from the hectic working day.
On my way, I had a difficult passage of 9 km over a high altitude, before Saltaluokta. Photo. I ate some muesli with powdered milk and cold water. We passed the Samendorp Vaggevaratj, the Autsutjjåkka River. This stretch was scheduled for 7 hours, but within 5 h. I was in Saltoluokta. It was a spacious cabin, with a shop with a little more stock than usual. I had another 10 minutes time to buy before the boat would leave across Pietsaure lake. So right in time I caught the boat , which brought me to the other side, the “village” Kebnats. Of Don’t expect much from such a village. As little as Cottessen where I live: no church, no community center, no shop.