Lights, camera, action

I need to unpack. My suitcase from Norway is sprawled open on my bedroom floor with only the necessities taken out of it. I keep meaning to deal with the rest but I spent most of my time in thermals and horrible jumpers and so if they are not immediately washed then it doesn’t really affect me (although it was jolly cold this morning). I then followed up my jaunt to the fjords with a hen night and so have just loaded another unpacked bag on top of the other. It’s getting to the stage where it might be easier to move...at least I’m already packed.

But... I saw the lights, I saw the lights, I saw the lights. As experiences go, standing on a beach well inside the Arctic circle at 2am, drinking coffee and warmed by a campfire whilst the sky goes mental ranks up there with the best of memories. There are no words to describe it. I am going to attempt to add a photo to this post (first photo of the blog) but even that doesn’t truly represent how amazing it was. I’ve been hankering after seeing the lights for years now and been on several trips and if anything this has only fuelled the fire. I am thinking Canada next.

I would also like to go back to Norway although I would possibly plan my trip a little better. This trip was booked on a whim during an incredibly stressful day at work when I gave in to ‘let’s just run away and leave this town behind’ feelings and abused the credit card. I possibly didn’t do my research properly and work out that the only thing to do where I was staying was see the lights. Even the woman in the tourist information looked at me aghast when I said I was there for four days and said ‘What are you going to do?’ Well the answer to that is walk a lot, become incredibly confused by there only being three hours of daylight (which was more twilight) and on one strange day walk an hour to go to a museum which was all about... well I’m not too sure what it was about, it didn’t really seem themed. Luckily it was free. Unluckily I was the only person in there and was watched the whole time by the five members of staff who were drinking coffee. Therefore rather than walking straight back out again I spent an hour reading about Russian ship workers and (my favourite) ‘The Amazing Story of Ivan Ibalokvik’s Suitcase’. I read all about Ivan’s sisters life. All about his brother’s lives. I learnt nothing about Ivan and his suitcase was never mentioned again.

But it was all about the lights. They didn’t disappoint. Now where can I go next...