Thanks to Paul for posting in my absence. Much appreciated.
HI. Tromso Library free Internet. The first for days, and the last for five more at least. I am supposed to be sight seeing Tromso. It's small and I can spare an hour. It is early and still cold outside.
Fast forward from Tuesday. The rests of the slog up the Bothnian coast was uneventful. I overnighted in Gemmelstad just outside Lulea. It's a world heritage site and very special. Maybe I'll do a retrospective when I have time. I can see that this blog will not necessarily go in sequence, and will not be complete until some time after my return to England. I will get the story out one way or another. I imagine hours sorting photos to add, in my office at home.
HI. Tromso Library free Internet. The first for days, and the last for five more at least. I am supposed to be sight seeing Tromso. It's small and I can spare an hour. It is early and still cold outside.
Fast forward from Tuesday. The rests of the slog up the Bothnian coast was uneventful. I overnighted in Gemmelstad just outside Lulea. It's a world heritage site and very special. Maybe I'll do a retrospective when I have time. I can see that this blog will not necessarily go in sequence, and will not be complete until some time after my return to England. I will get the story out one way or another. I imagine hours sorting photos to add, in my office at home.
Wednesday morning I began the mammoth journey across Swedish Lapland, crossing the arctic circle just south of Jokkmokk. I have photos but not the time to sort them just now. You'll see them later.
I think I know when we went wrong. It was in Jokkmokk. I had Jane's sound switched off. The navigating should have been easy. The Excitement of the moment had let Vatta loose at the helm, and an old couple were crawling at 8 miles per hour, risking tripping us up. A swerve, accelerate, a junction missed with Jane mute and unable to warn us, and we were on our way out of town due west. Vatta may not have been the problem. I am not that clever with Jane. I wanted Jokkmokk as a via point but could not figure out how to do town centre. I chose an address at random which was probably out in the sticks to the west, so here I am. Vatta enjoyed the stunted trees and cold swamp scenery, loosing track of time. The road narrowed and roughened, becoming gravel single track. Vatta dived for cover and left me to sort out the mess! I stopped. The first thing I did was switch Jane's voice back on. Too late. She could navigate us out of the situation, but was it wise to let her? The road she indicated was worse than the one we were on. Without switching the engine off (one cock up doesn't have to be followed by another) I took swig of cold water and thought. I turned around and started to retrace my route here from Jokkmokk. Hard but the low risk option and I'm alone. How long had Vatta been day dreaming and composing poetry? God knows, I don't. How many miles? Pass again. Jane wants 41 miles to get us there but I don't believe her. There is a ghost in that machine for sure. 15 miles it turned out. The cost of not paying attention? three quarters of an hour, a quarter of a tank of fuel, and stress. So lunch of tinned Tuna in Jokkmokk. Gather my thoughts and follow the E45 out of town for Kiruna.
It took all day. Mile after mile of dwarf trees, rocky terrain and still, cold pools. Refuel at Kiruna protecting us from a catastrophe, and load up with food at Swedish prices before Abisco, and then Norway. Between Kiruna and Abisco the road was out for 6 miles. Shale, then brand new hard core waiting for tarmac, and careless motorcyclists. Elsa crunched through it grumbling, back wheel wagging occasionally. Camper vans at 1o miles an hour to force us to slow bicycle left and right. Can't stop, so muscle past dominating the situation. If they break I will be off. If I yank on the front brake, ditto. Thank god it was only 6 miles. More of this to come I am sure. By the time we reached Abisko I was at the end of my strength. Warm food and a soft bed, and black outs to rest my eyes from the midnight sun.
I think I know when we went wrong. It was in Jokkmokk. I had Jane's sound switched off. The navigating should have been easy. The Excitement of the moment had let Vatta loose at the helm, and an old couple were crawling at 8 miles per hour, risking tripping us up. A swerve, accelerate, a junction missed with Jane mute and unable to warn us, and we were on our way out of town due west. Vatta may not have been the problem. I am not that clever with Jane. I wanted Jokkmokk as a via point but could not figure out how to do town centre. I chose an address at random which was probably out in the sticks to the west, so here I am. Vatta enjoyed the stunted trees and cold swamp scenery, loosing track of time. The road narrowed and roughened, becoming gravel single track. Vatta dived for cover and left me to sort out the mess! I stopped. The first thing I did was switch Jane's voice back on. Too late. She could navigate us out of the situation, but was it wise to let her? The road she indicated was worse than the one we were on. Without switching the engine off (one cock up doesn't have to be followed by another) I took swig of cold water and thought. I turned around and started to retrace my route here from Jokkmokk. Hard but the low risk option and I'm alone. How long had Vatta been day dreaming and composing poetry? God knows, I don't. How many miles? Pass again. Jane wants 41 miles to get us there but I don't believe her. There is a ghost in that machine for sure. 15 miles it turned out. The cost of not paying attention? three quarters of an hour, a quarter of a tank of fuel, and stress. So lunch of tinned Tuna in Jokkmokk. Gather my thoughts and follow the E45 out of town for Kiruna.
It took all day. Mile after mile of dwarf trees, rocky terrain and still, cold pools. Refuel at Kiruna protecting us from a catastrophe, and load up with food at Swedish prices before Abisco, and then Norway. Between Kiruna and Abisco the road was out for 6 miles. Shale, then brand new hard core waiting for tarmac, and careless motorcyclists. Elsa crunched through it grumbling, back wheel wagging occasionally. Camper vans at 1o miles an hour to force us to slow bicycle left and right. Can't stop, so muscle past dominating the situation. If they break I will be off. If I yank on the front brake, ditto. Thank god it was only 6 miles. More of this to come I am sure. By the time we reached Abisko I was at the end of my strength. Warm food and a soft bed, and black outs to rest my eyes from the midnight sun.
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