Anticipation is the greatest joy

This article is part of the series “2023-03: Svalbard”.

In Germany this means “Vorfreude ist die schönste Freude”. I never liked this proverb. I’m too impatient! Or is it true? Even for impatient people like me? Perhaps.

Yesterday I asked the map section of the Norwegian Polar Institute if I may have a map of Svalbard. And I got one. Since my part of our shared office does not have any walls I decided to put in on the wall in my Hybel – my small apartment in Tromsø. Here it hangs, just between the two windows.

Last week I got to know, that I may collaborate with L. for a week. He does not work at the Polar Institute, but at UNIS, the university centre in Svalbard.

Today my boss told me – he knows me well – that I may work there. So, If L. and I really find a common time to work together and there is accommodation and payable flights, I’ll be in Longyearbyen within the next months for a week. Plus some extra days when possible.

I have been in Longyearbyen before, but only a couple of hours after last years expedition. It would be so great to travel there again with much more time.

Of course it’s not carved in stone yet, but I’m looking forward to it already very much.

Anticipation is the greatest joy.

An intangible longing

This blog article is a bit special. It’s not about the places I visit but about a special place of longing. The article is more personal than the others and probably I write it mostly for myself. I decided to publish it anyhow. You are welcome to read it and share your thoughts in the comment section. That would be nice!

I’m feeling sad and wistful. This map shows the reason for my melancholy and the place of my longing:

The image above is a clip of the map North Circumpolar Region. A large version of the map hangs in my work room home in Sweden. In the middle of the cropped image there it is: The North Pole! Unreachable. But …

Let’s first go back in history. 20 years ago. I lived in Essen, Germany and I just had stopped working as a professional jazz musician and made my first work experiences in web programming. Everything was new. And I started to develop a new passion: The Scandinavian winter.

That winter I had been in Lapland for the first time and I loved it! With the exception of the following year I have been north of the Arctic Circle every single year since then. In 2004 I first moved to the opposite direction – Munich – but in 2010 I moved to Sweden. 2020 was a very special year. Annika and I bought a house and moved in together in May. And in August we have married ! At the same time I got a job at the Norwegian Polar Institute in Tromsø. As a matter of fact that is too far away from home but this job is just a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. That’s why I have had two places to live since then. Right now I’m in Tromsø.

Since I not only like maps but also graphics, I photoshopped a bit today. A graph about “way-up-north” the last 20 years. The x-axis shows the time and y-axis shows the latitude. The bars show were I lived and the dots my northernmost latitude per year.

You see the green dot this year? 82 °N – that’s quite out of my normal Northern Scandinavian boundary box. How I came there? As part of my job I got the opportunity to join a polar expedition with the ice breaker Kronprins Haakon. The three week journey took us to the Polar Ocean north of Svalbard. I was really touched and overwhelmed by the beauty of the sea ice and I fell in love with the high Arctic.

Last week Kronprins Haakon started another polar expedition for five weeks. Oh, I was longing for being in the high Arctic again and I wished to join that cruise so much!

It doesn’t make it easier that I know 9 of the 27 participants. And it doesn’t make it easier either, that the ship is probably not fully booked. There might have been a place (although no budget)! But today it became even harder when I read that yesterday Kronprins Haakon has reached the North Pole for the first time. The North Pole! Imagine – the NORTH POLE! Being there is one of my two strongest dreams in life! The other I’ll keep secret ;-). But of course it is not my main field of work travelling around. Unfortunately.

So that’s why I have been feeling sad and wistful the last two weeks.

But there are things that help.

Annika is coming to Tromsø next Friday and then we have three weeks of holiday together! Since we do not see each other regularly, each day together is something special. I’m so looking forward to see her!

Other thing that help? Hiking in the mountains (last Sunday and tomorrow), paddling kayak (yesterday), taking a bath in the sea (this afternoon).

But still visiting the North Pole will be one of my big dreams!

Tromsøya crossing in winter

An almost true story to be read out loud with a deep and rough voice.

I survived one of mankind’s largest expeditions of our times – the crossing of the arctic island Tromsøya from south to north! Probably I’m the first one, who dared to face this extraordinary challenge.

The arctic ice breaker could not approach the harsh coastal line of Tromsøya’s southern tip. Too mighty the storm, too sharp the rocky cliffs, too high the enormous waves! I was forced to row the last mile in a wooden dinghy. When I approached land I realised that despite of months of planning I was without food! Would I survive? Well, the tour must start, with or without provisions. One has to go on in live.

The land was wild and it was hard to find the entry point of my expedition. Where is Sydspissen, the Southern tipp? With my extraordinary orientation skills I finally managed to find this unexplored promontory which would be the starting point for my crossing.

I followed the coastal line through a field of invincible rocks. The storm howled and the surge of waves covered everything in spray. I decided to leave the exposed coast and seek shelter in the inland. To my surprise I found some ancient dwellings.

It seemed that this hostile island had been inhabited earlier. What a discovery! I continued my way and realised that I was not alone. People still seemed to live here. While most of the indigenes hid inside some dared to be outside, guarded by their dogs. The houses were shocking. While the people seemed to have some basic skills in woodcraft, they still lacked the knowledge of constructing right angles.

I continued my way through the forbidding terrain. After a while it opened and gave view to an extent of ice. Could it be a lake? Probably it had been frozen for centuries. Here I spotted more locals. As the others before they ignored me. Didn’t they dare to seek contact? I do not know. First I though they would hunt seal or walrus but they just seemed to wander around without any goal.

Soon I was alone again in the rough mountain scape of this arctic island. Orientation was extremely difficult. Without my compass and sextant I probably would have been lost forever in this pathless country. I was completely on my own.

The terrain descended and gave view to a strange installation. Scaffoldings pointing up to the sky were erected randomly on that slope. Was is temples or other places of worship? Who build them? When? And why? Probably one never will find out.

Since I lost my food I was forced to continue my expedition. Time was precious. The land was bleak and barren. No trees, no bushes, nothing. Maybe some moss seeking shelter between the stone could survive under the eternal snow. For other plants this place is too hostile. 

The mountains became even higher and I got view on a small coastal village, probably abandoned ages ago. One wooden house lay nearby but it lacked a door and most of the walls.

I looked for walkable paths that would lead me further north. The more north I came the more glaciers covered the land.

It started to get dark but without food I did not dare to seek shelter. I was forced to go on and on without any rest. Amidst the mountains I spotted two indigenes. They sat on some kind of toboggan well clad in furs to keep them warm in the harsh sub-zero climate. I did not dare to disturb them and only managed to get a blurred photo as a proof of my observations.

According to my positional measurements the northern tipp of Tromsøya could not be far. I had survived until now. Would I make it to Nordspissen, the northern tip?

Alas – after more efforts and privations I managed to reach Nordspissen. I was grateful that fate allowed me to be the first human who reached this remote spot on foot. To my big surprise the legend was true: There is a mystic monument at Tromsøya’s northern tip and I can prove it:

But my efforts were in vain. I was too late! The last ship of the season just had passed by. Now I was forced to live here on this remote and solitary polar island for another year. But that’s daily routine for tough explorers like me.

 

Hejdå home office

Hejdå home office – hejdå Obbola – hejdå Sweden.

This picture is from yesterday, my last day in home-home office. One “home” is for not being in the office, another “home” for working from home in Obbola, not in Tromsø.

This room was my home office for eight months.

In normal times you meet colleagues in real life and have landscape photos on your computer monitor as a desktop background. The last eight months it was the opposite: I met my colleagues digitally but the view of the Baltic Sea was real. And so were the sail boats, the screeching sea birds and the roe deer passing by.

While I write this Annika and I sit in the train to Riksgränsen that departed in Umeå at 2:08(!). In Riksgränsen we’ll get a private lift to Narvik crossing the Norwegian border and then take the bus to Tromsø. If everything works well we’ll arrive there this evening. After a week Annika will return home while I’ll stay in Tromsø to continue my work for the Norwegian Polar Institute on-site.

Eight months Annika and I had together in Obbola. I appreciated every single day of this unexpected gift caused by the COVID-19 restrictions and I’ll keep this time in my heart.

What the future brings? Too early to say.

Gratulerer med dagen from abroad

Today is syttende mai (17th of May), the Norwegian national day. On 17 May 1814 the The Constitution of Norway that declared Norway to be an independent kingdom was signed. That’s why Norway turns 207 years today. Gratulerer med dagen – Happy birthday!

The first time that I was in Norway was the turn of the year 2003/04 together with a friend. Although the weather was really miserable – storm and rain – I was so fascinated by that country, that I travelled there one month later again to find a job as a developer.

Well, I didn’t find a job. I couldn’t speak Norwegian, didn’t have much programming experience and the dot-com bubble was still present.

2005, one and a half year later I visited Tromsø for the first time of my life after a week of hiking on the Hardangervidda. I had less than two days to discover this town but since then it has been my favourite town in Scandinavia.

Anyhow I didn’t think about moving there. The same year I had been in Northern Sweden twice and preferred the colder winters there. In addition to that I was a bit scared of mørketiden – the seven weeks in winter, where the sun stays below the horizon. Five years later I moved to Sweden.

This year however I was sure that I will be in Norway for syttende mai, since I’ve been working in Tromsø since last October.

Well, at least on the papers. Due to Covid 19 we were strongly advised to work from home, which I can better in our house in Obbola/Sweden than in my tiny room in Tromsø. On 22 November 2020 I took the plane to Oslo, another one to Stockholm and a third to Umeå. Since then I’ve been working and living home in Obbola. In five days I’ll have been here for half a year.

It feels a bit like a dream. Did I really work in the office of the Norsk Polarinstitutt in Tromsø? Together with others? Walked the 1.7 km from my shared flat? Enjoyed the first snow in the mountains? Took a kayak course?

Only when I miss my down sleeping bag (in Tromsø), my macro lens (in Tromsø), my rain parka (in Tromsø) I realise that I still have my flat there. And of course when I have to pay the monthly rent. And that’s a lot because it is ridiculously expensive to live there.

At time I’m forbidden to travel to Norway even though I have a job and a shared flat there. It’s unclear when I’ll be allowed there again. Until then I have the blog articles as memory of my two months in Tromsø to remember, the knowledge that I’ll be there again but most of all a wonderful time home.

Breakfast to go

About transporting breakfast in a wheelbarrow and hunting kayaks by the sea.

Some of you may remember the picture taken three weeks ago:

Martin’s answer in the comment was right: We have two kayaks now! Annika bought hers three weeks ago, a new, bright yellow one. Since then it has snowed several times – last time six days ago but today the weather promised to be calm and sunny. Because of Ascension Day Annika and I had a free day today and as usual we started it with a breakfast. Almost …

We didn’t put the breakfast on the terrace table, but in a wheelbarrow. In addition to food and drink there was a camping mat, clogs, sun glasses, caps, my camera and a sponge. While I pushed the wheelbarrow to the shore, Annika took two paddles, for today we would kayak to a beach on the island Bredskär and take our breakfast there.

The air was warm but the sea is still icy cold, so we both were dressed in drysuits. Gloves and such however was not needed any longer.

We paddled counterclockwise along the island Bredskär. Wind as sea were calm and the sun warmed us. We circled a small stony cape and then we turned sharp left to enter a small bay with a sandy beach. There we got out of our kayaks and dragged them up the beach.

Almost 11 o’clock. Both of us were hungry and eager to start breakfast – or better said brunch. We carried the food up the rocky cliff of the cape that we just had gone around by kayak. Time to roll out the camping mat, pour orange juice into the plastic cups and start our brunch.

After eating bread with cheese, egg or herring in mustard sauce and some chocolate (Marabu with salted almonds) we just sat there and enjoyed. We watched the agile terns fly, we spotted three tiny sail boats leaving the shore. We heard a loud HOOOO! from the air horn of a ship, but we couldn’t spot it. The three sailing boats headed for the open sea getting smaller and smaller. And finally we saw the cause of the air horn: The Wasa ferry to Finland that at time docks in the industry port and has a bit of longer way to the sea. Slowly it approached and passed our observation spot.

The waves of the Wasaline ferry came nearer and nearer. No problem – we sit on land.

I cannot remember whether I heard the waves running into the sandy bay or if I saw them. Anyhow, I turned my head and could watch the waves that had reached our kayaks and started to pull them into the sea. I climbed down the cliff with my cheap plastic clogs as fast as I could, ran over the sand and waded into the water to fetch the first kayak I could reach. It was mine. Now I was a bit more relaxed. We could use my kayak to fetch Annika’s that already has been pulled out into deeper water. Annika however had still her drysuit on and waded to her kayak until she could grab it. Now the waves had started pushing her kayak back and soon both were on dry land again.

2 people: ✔︎ / 2 kayaks: ✔︎ / 2 paddles: ✔︎ – good luck!

To our learning for today: Even when the sea is calm – put your kayak on land properly! Now with the kayaks being save again we returned to the cliff, we sat down onto the camping mat again and watched the ferry on its journey to behind the horizon.

There we sat for a while, but then we put our things together, entered the kayaks and paddled home. After less then 2km of paddling we landed at the shore in front of our house where the wheelbarrow waited for that food that we hadn’t eaten. I still feel being extremely privileged, that I may live at such an outstanding place together with Annika.

Later that day we were in town where we got the warmest day yet: Up to 23 °C (or 24? I don’t remember) were shown by the car thermometer and when we bathed in the lake Stocksjön it was no winter bath any longer. Yes, there is still snow in the forest and even a larger patch of it beside the house but this will not last long.

Springtime!

Farewell Skelleftehamn

Sweden. Somewhere in the north. A little town called Skelleftehamn. A small street called Tallvägen. Street number 35. My house, that I named flygelvillan. The large living room. The left half with the grand piano and the computer. That has been a central place to me for many years.

At this place I wrote most of the blog articles of way-up-north.com. I worked. I planned my travels. I communicated. I looked out of the window when it snowed. I played on my grand piano. I rehearsed with a jazz trio and an opera singer. I composed and arranged for big band and chamber choir.

A central place.

Two days ago, on 15 May 2020 I left my house for good. It’s still mine but I’ll sell it this year.

Two days ago at 8 o’clock the large moving lorry arrived and five people started to carry all my belongings into the large car. First some furniture, then more than 150 boxes, pulka, kayak, skis and large bags with sleeping bags and down jackets. And finally my Yamaha grand piano.

The whole move took less than eight hours. Then my grand piano stood erected in the living room of Annika’s and my new house by the sea.

Shall I be sad because I left Skelleftehamn? Perhaps I should, but I’m not. The positive feelings about living together with Annika and having found such an extraordinary place to live dominate. I really have been looking forward to this new life and now it has become reality.

Past – present – future

About ten years in Sweden and what will happen next

← Past

Have a look at this photo. It’s a special one:

This photo I took the morning of 23 April 2010, exactly ten years ago. It was the very first day of a new chapter in my life: Living in Sweden.

So today it’s my tenth Sweden anniversary. What a great life I’ve had all those years!

I’m especially grateful that I got to know Martine and Lasse right from the beginning. It was the balcony of their former house in Skellefteå where I took this photo from. Lasse and Martine not only gave me a room to stay for the first weeks but much more. They introduced me to many great people and showed me the surroundings, among others Skelleftehamn.

When I took these photos on 24 April 2010 I didn’t know that I would buy a house in Skelleftehamn only a month later and move there in summer 2010.

☉Present

The month of April uses to be the month between winter and spring. It still may snow intensely but the snow won’t last. And so it is this year, too. The rivers are mostly open and only the lakes are still covered with old ice.

But this April is special. Although the weather is really fine I’m inside quite a lot. It’s not because of corona or work but …

… because I pack my things. I’m moving. I’ll leave Skelleftehamn after almost ten years! The removal van will come in three weeks and I have a lot of stuff. The 35 banana boxes on the photo are filled with books and I didn’t even start to pack my winter equipment. Down jackets, sleeping bags, pulka, skies, winter boots …

→ Future

I’m going to move 148 km south. Annika and I have bought a house in Obbola near Umeå, the largest town in Northern Sweden. In two weeks Annika and I will finally become sambor. Sambo (sam = together-, bo = to live) – is the common Swedish term for people in a relationship living together without being married. Oh, how I’m looking forward to live together with Annika after years of a weekend relationship with many car rides on the boring E4 between Skelleftehamn and Umeå.

I’m also looking forward to something else. The house is located by the Baltic Sea. It’s only sixty metres from our terrace to the shore and I’ll be able to see the sea from my “office room”. There will be no excuse why I shouldn’t take a ten minute kayak trip before breakfast, when the weather is nice.

It’s hard to make photos from the future. The photos below I made three weeks ago.

The photo I couldn’t take three weeks ago was of the mink strolling along the shore. Wrong lens …

Closing the bathing season in Skelleftehamn?

7 o’clock. The sun was still below the horizon but already colourised sky and sea at Storgrundet.

Some minutes later – looking into the opposite direction revealed another colour impression.

There was thin ice on this bay. It was partially broken. You may already guess, why. I’ll tell you.

I love bathing in the sea and this bay is my favourite beach and bathing place. In mid-August the water temperature had been 18 °C, in September it had fallen below 10 °C and this morning it was only around 0.7 °C.

Anyhow, time for another bath.

I undressed and started wading through the ice. First I stalked like a stork, than the water got deeper and thinner and I just walked normally, breaking the ice with my thighs.

Soon I reached both open water and swimming depth. I love bathing in cold water and think it’s invigorating and refreshing. Bathing before sunrise with these beautiful morning colours is an extra bonus.

Ouchie ;-)After a bit of bathing and some swimming strokes I waded back to the beach. I already had expected cutting my legs at the sharp thin ice and so I did.

As long as the skin is cold, you hardly feel such scratches.

Being still wet I started freezing because the air was not warm neither. -9 °C the car thermometer had shown. Then the great moment came where I realised, that I had forgot to take a towel with me!

I dried myself a bit with my hands and slipped – wet as I was – into my clothes. And warm clothes it was!

This worked much better than expected and I decided to drive to the office directly. Arriving there only the tips of the socks felt a bit damp, the rest (outdoor pants and woollen sweater) felt warm and dry again.

Since the ice will get thicker and thicker every day I guess that this was the end of my bathing season 2019. At least at Storgrundet.

Some random comments

  • It has been quite cold for late October the last days. In some parts of Finnish lapland temperatures had dropped below -25 °C.
  • Later this morning I realised that I had got many more cuts and scratches from the ice than excepted.
  • The definition of a winter bath is a bath in water colder than 10 °C. According this definition I took my first winter bath this season on 9 September. But it was today that I took my first ice bath of the season.
  • While I am writing this blog article I realise that I had a roll of kitchen paper in my car. So I could have dried myself this morning.

Open house day at Polarforskningssekretariatet

When I was a child I wanted to become a researcher. Of course I hadn’t the slightest idea, what a researcher really does. I assumed he would travel around the world looking for insects or collecting fossils – both passions of mine. Then my interests for maths and computer science as well as for jazz and playing piano grew more and more and my childhood dreams of beetles and trilobites faded into the background. To make a long story short: 1992 I started studying jazz piano and then worked as a musician; in 2002 I had started working with programming, which still is my main profession. I really like my job and the freedom that it gives me, but …

There are jobs that I would take instantly if I only had the chance.

Today was open day at the Polarforskningssekretariatet – the Swedish Polar Research Secretariat in Luleå. The Polarforskningssekretariatet “promotes the conditions for and coordinates Swedish research and development in the polar regions.”¹ It was really interesting and inspiring both to look around and to talk to the people working there.

If you know me, you also know about my passion for the Arctic regions, even though I only have visited a really tiny part. What you probably do not know is that I had contact with the Polarforskningssekretariatet some months ago. There had just published a job ad for a forskningsstödsamordnare – a research support coordinator – for the ship based expeditions to the Arctic. I applied for that job, although I guessed that without any fundamental experience within leading large international projects and especially research I wouldn’t have a chance. And I hadn’t. Today I learned that 80–100 people applied for that job.

I’m not disappointed, but a bit pensive. That would have been a job to my taste. Transforming needs into plans, working with international teams, travelling to Greenland or the North pole, but most of all: doing a meaningful job in times where climatical research is more and more crucial to humankind.

There are several lives I could have chosen. I could have become a mathematician, a composer or – following my childhood dreams – a scientist. It’s easy to say that I should have made other choices. If I were a scientist today I would miss my time as a jazz pianist. Life is just too short to squeeze in all the different interests. But just today I would have loved to become a part of the polar research in Sweden.

¹ quote taken from the English website.