Slow Boat to Kirkenes



The Snail, Auguste and I are on a boat, heading for the North Pole. We will, of course, turn and miss by a few hundred miles but it still has that feeling of adventure, of entering into the unknown, the exact unknown we went to two and a half years ago (but not Auguste, his passport wasn’t ready for that trip). Then, it was polar night, the sun was shy to shine and it was the type of cold that makes your bones snuggle down under your skin, trying to remember the feel of warmer climes.

Now it is spring and the sun is like that guest at a party that, whilst great to have there, insists on staying until every other guest has left, drinks the last of the decent whisky and then demands breakfast, before deciding to move in for 6 months*.

Sunset...well, nearly

Sunset…well, nearly

Actually, we are going to Kirkenes, somewhere I hope we don’t miss by a hundred miles, or even one. We won’t, unlike the sun, stay there long but it gives me a chance to check out the feel of the place again as I try to finish Kirkenes Blue. The novel was supposed to be done and dusted by now; indeed Auguste was going to be leaving a copy of that in the library of the MS Trollfjord instead of BATDIG as he is going to do very soon – he just has to finish reading it first.

Now for a good book...oh, this'll do...

Now for a good book…oh, this’ll do…

Although it is becoming colder as we head further North, the days are becoming longer which means that, by the time we reach Kirkenes, there will be about 22 hours of usable daylight every day. Already, the sun isn’t really setting as such, just going through the motions.

No rush

No rush

So, the three of us slowly head towards the point where we turn around and head south again, with the sun slowly realising there are no more twiglets to be had, no more rum to be punched.

Slow is good**. We like slow.


* It happens. I’ll say no more.

**Except possibly when you’re trying to upload a blog post from the middle of a fjord via a damp piece of string.

Categories: Auguste, BATDIG, General silliness, ships, Travel | Tags: , , , , , , | 10 Comments

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10 thoughts on “Slow Boat to Kirkenes

  1. Have a fantastic time.It looks gorgeous.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Oh…THAT guest! Stevie-boy has been hoarding his single packet of twiglets since we bought them for the princely sum of $4 (that would be 2 of your delicious English pounds) and we, alas, are also out of rum so no punching shall ensue. Anyone who doesn’t appreciate “slow” in all of it’s majestic and stately beauty is a plebian and to be sniffed at sir! One usually attempts the damp piece of string trick when one has 2 tin cans on the end for better reception. One must have been terribly excited to be attempting the solo string trick. Just Googled what Kirkenes is. From my stoic hunting event, I found out that Kirkenes is “COLD”. Thank you for another interesting factoid that I can bandy about today and slip into polite conversation like a boss. Can’t wait to read about your adventures with Ms Snail and Auguste on the high seas. Me, I will stay indoors where it is nice and warm and will enjoy the heck out of my share of those twiglets.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Enjoy, they may just be the last twiglets in existence! 🙂
      Kirkenes was -12 C last time we were there, but that was one January – hoping it will at least be a positive number of degrees this time. No bets though…


  3. Steve is twitching now thinking that he has the last packet of twiglets. He is going to hire a bank vault and stash them for posterity. You have created a monster…cheers…

    Liked by 1 person

    • A twiglet monster? A monster made of twiglets? That’s scary!! I guess a Swiss-Cheese Bank is where to store the last of the twiglets, next to the fondue. I was always a cheesy quaver man myself.

      Liked by 1 person

      • Steve has spoken of the mysterious “Cheesy quaver”. Another non existent creature from the Auld Country here in the Antipodes. He also laments bacon crisps and crisps with small packets of salt in them. It would appear that we might be a country serving under the crown, but we are NOT a country whose streets are lined with cheesy quavers and twiglets as a rule. Turns out our chocolate tastes different as well!

        Liked by 1 person

        • Have you tried driving down streets lined with cheesy quavers? The other man’s juckleberry shrub is always a more mauvey shade of pinky russet, as Douglas Adams once wrote. )

          Liked by 1 person

          • Indeed. And the other mans juckleberries ALWAYS taste sweeter 😉


          • That is twice, this morning, that Mr D. Adams has figured in my writing participation. Hmmm…I get the feeling that today is going to be a Douglas Adamsy kind of day.


  4. Pingback: When in Norway… | The Snail of Happiness

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