It was a gorgeous evening on our last night at Hedesunda. Families sat outside around their tents and campervans, enjoying the last of the evening sunshine. We watched with interest at what appears to be the national Swedish game, at least for those who are camping. It will come as no surprise to hear that it involves wood. It stands to reason that in a country with so many trees, their favourite outdoor pastime is a game involving throwing chunks of wood at other chunks of wood. They seem to set out a matrix with pieces of what looks like four by four, rested on the ground. They then throw other slightly larger pieces of wood at the framework, trying to knock them down. It seemed incredibly complicated, but managed to occupy entire families for what seemed like hours.

After observing the onsite recreation, we walked to the beach, and enjoyed a very pleasant meal at the restaurant next to the camping ground. 

Perhaps spurred on by our bottle of wine, we then set about solar eclipse hunting. Despite wall to wall sunshine all day, within about thirty minutes of the designated time for viewing, a large bank of cloud welled up. We walked along he road outside the campsite for about a mile, trying to find a break in the clouds. But to no avail – despite tramping through woods to the shoreline, sadly there was no moon to be found. We retreated back to the campsite, where, remarkably, one family were still playing the stick game!

This morning, we set off for Stockholm. The weather remained hot, despite the promise of rain. At one point on the drive, we hit a short-lived torrential shower, but then back to sunshine as we drove into the city.

Having checked into our hotel, we set off to explore. First we walked the short distance to Gamla Stan, the old quarter of Stockholm, with it’s pretty ochre coloured buildings and labyrinth of narrow alleyways. It is one of the largest and best preserved medieval city centres in Europe, and as a result, heaving with tourists. We stopped for a coffee, and did a bit of people watching. We observed a family with two little boys, and clearly another babe on the way, as they negotiated ice-creams with the two little children. Unwisely, they opted for chocolate cones, which within moments had completely engulfed the two little boys in chocolate ice-cream. As the mother removed the cone from the youngest’s hand, whilst she tried to wipe some of the ice-cream from his clothes and face, he threw himself onto the cobbled street in a raging temper tantrum. Oh! How we remember those days! We did wonder to ourselves whether the third child would be another boy – I feel there should be some sort of special award to parents who survive three boys!

Duly refreshed, we headed off to explore the city. After a wander through Gamla Stan, we then opted to buy a hop on / hop off boat ticket, which enabled us to hop between the islands which make up the core of Stockholm. We alighted at the island which is home to the Vasa Museum, one of the most popular attractions in Stockholm, which had also been recommended to us by several friends.

The museum houses the Swedish warship, the Vasa, which in 1628 sank on it’s maiden voyage, having only sailed 1,300 metres from where it was launched. It lay at the bottom of Stockholm harbour for 333 years, until in 1961 it was salvaged after a major operation to raise the wreck. The ships guns had previously been salvaged in the 1660s using an incredibly rudimentary diving bell. The ship was raised virtually intact, and initially was housed in a large warehouse where restorative work was carried out on the timbers. Then in 1990, it was moved to the purpose built museum building, and has become a major attraction. The mystery as to why the Vasa sank was quite easily explained. Essentially, it was top heavy. The majority of it’s weight sat on it’s upper decks, where the hull was at it’s thickest, and where two decks of heavy guns sat. There was not enough ballast in the bottom of the ship to compensate for this, the ship requiring a much broader hull to accommodate more stones. On it’s maiden voyage, the gun hatches were left open, to show off the armaments, and when a gust of wind tilted the boat to port, water streamed in through the open hatches, and completely destabilised the ship. It quickly rolled over and sank, within clear sight of the harbour.

The restored ship was indeed a spectacular sight to behold. One couldn’t help think as we walked around the displays, that if more attention had been spent on the engineering, rather than all the adornments, such as elaborate carvings and figure heads, then maybe this disaster could have been averted.

After the museum, we caught a boat back to the other side of the city, although the walk from the jetty to our hotel nearly exhausted us in the oppressive heat. When we arrived back at our hotel, we were both dripping in sweat and looking like belisha beacons. After showering, we cooled off with a drink in the very hip Sky Terrace Bar on the roof of the hotel, and then went out for supper.

There seems to be no respite in the heat, despite forecasts of thunderstorms, which didn’t materialise. It has been a long time since we have been in a city, and had forgotten how frenetic and air-less they can be. We hope for a cooler day tomorrow.

P.S. Be careful of what you wish for! As I prepare to post this, we have both been awakened by the most enormous clap of thunder and torrential rain! Photos are alluding me at present – to follow.

Today has been a scorcher – I’m so pleased we opted to have a day off driving, and stay put at this lovely campsite. First on the agenda this morning was a game of table tennis. As we waked to the service block to do our washing up from breakfast, we spied the empty table – last night it had been constantly bagged by the children. So it was game on! Howard won the first game, I narrowly won the second game, and then it was the decider. By now we had quite an audience of children, eager to get their go at the table. Howard explained to them that the third game was essential! By now, it was so hot I thought I was about to expire, but my competitive spirit won through, and I took the final game. My status as ‘Marriage Family Table Tennis Champion’ remains intact!!

One of my friends sent me a message yesterday saying that she hadn’t seen much evidence of the bikes in action for a while. She was right, of course – we hadn’t cycled the whole time we were in Iceland or Norway. The distances we had been covering each day meant that we hadn’t stayed in one place long enough to get them out. But here was our perfect opportunity. Howard spend at least an hour cleaning and oiling them up, pumping up tyres and doing whatever else men do with bikes. Then we were off!

We had a really lovely bike ride, on a route recommended by the campsite owner. It was relatively flat, with only the occasional uphill, and the scenery was very pleasant. However, after a couple of hours, the heat was yet again getting the better of me, and we headed back to the campsite.

The rest of the afternoon was spent doing chores like washing and tidying, and having a much needed shower.

Tonight we plan to eat out in the restaurant overlooking the water, right next door to the campsite. For once, we will have earned our nosh. I hear that they only sell wine by the bottle, so we may have to force ourselves to imbibe in some cool white wine too. It’s a tough life really!!

Tomorrow we head for Stockholm. I’m just hoping that the temperatures might have cooled a bit by then. Cities in this heat are really not my idea of fun.

Later, we’re hoping to see the solar eclipse. My photo friends keep sending me messages about it. Not sure though how compatible wine and eclipse photography are! I’ll try my best! 

Limited photos today, as haven’t travelled far.

Last night we declared all out battle with the bugs. As well as a large citronella candle, smoking insect repellent coils, liberal coatings of insect spray and our butane powered insect repellent lamp, we also engaged our new weapon – a sort of hip-slingster device that attaches to your belt or top of your shorts – and emits a smouldering discharge of insect repellent smoke, powered also by butane. I must admit to feeling a bit of a Wally walking around the campsite with smoke coming out of the top of my shorts, but whatever it takes to repel the pesky little things! After half an hour or so, there was not a bug in sight, and Howard’s occasionally shots in the air with his zappy bat resulted in little response. Success! Of course, everyone around us thought we were raging lunatics, but frankly, I’m past caring anymore.

The other really bizarre thing about last night, was that it was the first time in over eight weeks, that we went to bed in darkness. Throughout Iceland, and for our whole time in Norway, we never saw darkness. It seemed really odd. Then, when at about five thirty this morning, I awoke and looked through the pop-up’s window, I saw the sun rising up over the water. We had grown so accustomed to constant sunlight, that we had forgotten what darkness at night was like.

I know when Oliver was camping with us, it drove him mad, and he had huge difficulty sleeping in the bright light. But for us, it had become the norm. It’s funny to reflect that when we left the UK back in January, it was getting dark at 4.30 in the afternoon. I have become a great fan of perpetual sunlight, and will be sad to see the evenings slowly drawing in on the last part of our trip.

This morning, it was sweltering by 10am. We really don’t cope well in this extreme heat. I realise that in the UK just now, it is even hotter, but at least when you’re at home, you have the luxury of being able to go indoors. Living in a baking hot metal van definitely has it’s challenges!

We stopped off for coffee this morning at a town called Hudiksvall. It is known as ‘Glada Hudik’, which translates as ‘Happy Hudik’, since visitors to the town in the 19th century were taken by their hospitality and how jovial everyone seemed. It was indeed perfectly pleasant, if a little hot. Lining the canal by the cafe where we sat, were a row of old red warehouses – very pretty.

We continued on the E4, which Howard and I have officially christened the most boring road on this planet. We started playing i-Spy – but all we could come up with, was something beginning with ’T’. You guessed it!!

We had planned to continue on to Gavle, famous for it’s whisky distillery, but in the end, lost the will to live, and turned off the road earlier, since ‘tree madness’ (a new condition) was setting in.

We headed to our campsite for the night, slightly inland, but set on a small inland island, at a place called Hedesunda. What a delight it turned out to be. It is run by a Dutch couple, and as we found way back in Portugal, the Dutch know how to run a decent campsite. There are huge grassy pitches, set amongst woodland, and right by a pleasant little beach, with a rather nice restaurant and bar. The washrooms are pristine, and there isn’t a half-naked, pot bellied, tattooed man in sight (please excuse my prejudices, but last night I was put off eating my tea). What’s more, the Californias and other small camper vans and tents have been given a section of the campsite to themselves, in a lovely wooden glade, away from all the monstrous Big Whites, which have been given a gravel area near the washrooms. I do believe in Karma!

I think we have decided to stay another night, and take a rest from this incessant driving. Our plan is to spend the weekend in Stockholm, and then catch a ferry to Finland on Monday morning. We are hoping to get Oscar’s awning repaired in Helsinki  – since at the moment, it is duck taped to the side of the van. Howard was never great at DIY!! In the meantime, we will enjoy the wonderful tranquility of this lovey campsite – even the children play quietly here. We have spent the past half hour watching two little girls silently running around in circles, attached by elastic to what appears to be a kettle! Their parents must be pure genius!

Sorry photos a bit dull – didn’t get many opportunities today.

We returned from our evening shower last night to find a game of rounders going on right next to Oscar – at eleven pm. The champagne / Super Shooter families (we think there were three Swedish families – six adults and eleven children), having finished their supper, decided on some late night sport. The adults, rather tipsy from their champagne, and the children – most of whom were still soaking wet from their water fight antics, had set up a rounders pitch in the small empty pitch next door to ours. They appeared to be using Oscar as fourth base.

Howard chose to sit in the chair outside the van, to observe no damage was done, and to mark his territory. I had to laugh when one of the Dads came running up to him, after the ball had inevitably rolled under our van, and asked (in rather good English), ‘Could we have our ball back, please?” Howard bit his tongue, and politely let the guy clamber underneath Oscar to find it. Oh! How I love communal living!

Today was another hot day. In the end, we passed on the museum, and decided to make the most of the good weather, and head further south down the coast. We made a brief stop for coffee at a town called Ornskoldsvik. When we arrived, we couldn’t believe how many cyclists and Big Whites were in town. They seemed to have made every available piece of car park or parkland into a temporary camping ground. The campsites were given alphabetical letters – Central Camp A, B, C etc. We counted up to campsite O. Over coffee, we asked what on earth was going on in this otherwise unremarkable town. Turns out it is the World-Wide Orienteering Competition. Who would have known that orienteering was such a big thing?

Our onward destination was the Skuleskogen National Park, on the Hoga Kusten (or High Coast), which since 1970 has been a UNESCO World Heritage Site. What makes this landscape unique on the Swedish coastline is the dramatic scenery, with rocky cliffs plunging straight down into the sea. What is all there more unusual is that this rugged landscape is slowly emerging from the Baltic Sea. It was once covered by ice, and then underwater when the ice melted, and over the last 10,000 years has slowly risen, the highest point being 286 metres above sea level. This effect is known as ‘post-glacial rebound’, and is continuing at a rate of 0.8cm per year, or almost one metre every hundred years. It is the fastest rising uplift of coast on earth, and in 2,500 years time will have created a land bridge between here and Finland! In geological time scales that is really pretty small, and something which we found fascinating.

The National Park itself was really beautiful. We ventured into the tranquil dense pine forest on boardwalks, and although we had spotted a couple of cars in the car park, didn’t see a soul the whole time we were walking. The sun was casting dappled light into the glades, which were carpeted with a huge variety of ferns and mosses. Apparently Pine Martens abound here, but we didn’t spot one, nor any moose, despite the warning signs everywhere along this route. We passed by a huge glass art installation, with colours of the rainbow. Apparently you were meant to observe the landscape through the glass, to see it in another perspective.

After our walk in the woods, we then headed down to the rocky coastline. As yesterday, this stretch of coast is littered with little red huts, I guess equivalent to Bothies in Scotland. In the warm weather, there were plenty of families out enjoying a dip in the sea and splashing around on the shore-line. It is certainly the most picturesque piece of Swedish coast we have found so far in our travels, a pleasant change from the rather tedious drive of yesterday.

Despite all the miles we have covered, we are still only on a similar latitude to Trondheim in Norway, which we seemed to take weeks to reach, so reluctantly, we headed southwards.

Tonight we are staying in a campsite in Sundvall. We were lucky to get almost the last remaining pitch. I’m suspecting no-one else wanted it because it’s on a slope. I fear it will be another night of rolling down the bed. On a positive note though, as well as tipping downwards, it also has a sideways lilt towards Howard’s side – so at least I will have all the space tonight. Our neighbours are very quiet, so none of the excitement of last night. We do, however, have a magnificent view of the ‘latrintoming’ – latrine disposal for the Big Whites. I have just watched a very pot-bellied sunburnt Swedish man in a vest top wheel his little toilet container inside – it really has to be seen to be described! One of Howard’s favourite phrases has just come to mind – ‘Don’t say I don’t take you to exciting places’!!

It was an early start this morning to bag our spot for the washing machine. When I awoke, I looked like Howard had punched me in the eye – an insect had bitten me last night just by my eye-lid, and this morning it had all puffed up. As the day progressed, it has got puffier and puffier, so I thought it wise not to drive. 

Once on the road, it was as hot and tedious as yesterday. There really are a lot of trees in Sweden!    Furthermore, the coastal road on this east side, although tantalisingly close to the coast, gives you no vistas of the sea at all, just trees. We were late getting started whilst we waited for our washing to dry, so it wasn’t until 2.30 pm or so that we thought about stopping for lunch. We turned off the main road with great optimism, only to find that we had driven to a massive recycling plant by the sea. We turned tail, and took another road. This time we did find some water, more of a coastal lagoon, and sat and ate our cheese roll looking out across the lake. This whole stretch of coastline is heavily wooded, and there seem to be hundreds upon hundreds of little holiday cabins, often with pontoons stretching out into the water. It all looks very pleasant, but the result is that much of the waterfront is privately owned, so not giving public access. We could find little in the Lonely Planet of interest along this leg of our drive, so we continued on.

We arrived at Umea, where we had decided to stay tonight just before five.

According to the Lonely Planet, Umea is a lively university town, and, I quote, ‘a welcome outpost of urbanity in the barren north’. Seems like I’m not the only one who thought the drive was tedious! In 2014 it had the ‘Culture Capital of Europe’ bestowed on it. It’s main attraction is a cluster of museums, showcasing northern and Sami culture, but just as we pulled up, the museum was closing. So instead, we headed for the Umedalens Skulpturpark, an outdoor sculpture park, set in the beautiful grounds of a former psychiatric hospital. The site is now used by the university, various businesses and some residential properties. The sculptures are scattered all across the grounds, and comprise of some sculptures by contemporary artists such as Anthony Gormley and Louise Bourgeios. Some were so tucked away, it was only by shere chance that we stumbled across them, whereas others had more prominent positions. Strangely, there were no signs to the park, and had it not been for my trusty guide, we would have been none the wiser. As it was, we passed a very pleasant hour wandering around the park, taking in the art.

It was then time to head for our campsite, another monster of a site, full of irritating little boys with water pistols, and children playing ball games all around us. As I type, I have just been narrowly missed by a flying coke can, filed with water, for the little darling’s amusement, whilst their laid- back parents are sitting in the plot opposite, drinking what looks like champagne. Even Howard, who usually tolerates children pretty well, is considering homicide!

It seems like we have been driving south forever, but when we look at the map, we still have a huge distance to cover before reaching Stockholm at the weekend. So far, I am pretty disappointed with this east side of Sweden, compared with the west coast, but hopefully it will improve tomorrow.

In the meantime, I am devising ways of how to silence the little brats. Suggestions welcome!

Last night was hardly relaxing. Once we had dealt with the hoards of biting insects, and all the young children had eventually scuttled off to bed just before eleven, the teenagers came out to play. It turned out that the spot we had picked by the lake was on their direct route down to the water. Thirty or so youngsters made their way down to the shore, and started having a party. On went the music, and every thirty seconds or so, there was a loud splash as one of them hurtled themselves off the pontoon into the water. At midnight, it was still daylight, and the party was just getting going, as more of the youths on the campsite negotiated a late pass from their parents. Howard and I nodded off to sleep. But then, as they all returned to their tents and vans at about one thirty in the morning, we were woken yet again by the tramping feet going past Oscar.

This morning, the campsite was silent. By nine thirty, hardly anyone had stirred, even the adults. I guess everyone’s diurnal clocks get confused in 24 hour daylight in the Arctic.

After breakfast, we headed in to the town of Jokkmokk. It is a centre of Sami culture, with lots of craft shops, and a museum called Ajtte, celebrating the Sami culture. We spent a pleasant hour going round the museum, which unusually was free to enter. My favourite exhibit was a 3D multimedia 180 degree film, taking you soaring through the Lappland landscape. In this part of the world, the Sami population is still very much alive and kicking, but over the years, they have adapted to the modern world. Reindeer herding is still one of their prime activities, but these days, the reindeer are herded by Sami on snowmobiles, rather than on foot or with dog sleds. For most of the year, the Sami live in wooden houses like the rest of the population, but the herders still sleep in tents when they are away bringing in the reindeer from their summer pastures.

Museum done, we hit the road, heading south towards the Swedish coast. 

The drive was incredibly monotonous – mile upon mile of beech and pine forests. After the spectacular scenery of Arctic Norway, in truth, it was a little underwhelming. Every so often we would see a road sign, advising of moose. However, despite all the warnings, we never spotted one. As we crossed the sign indicating that we were leaving the Arctic Circle, I couldn’t help but feel a little sad.

We arrived at Lulea mid afternoon. After grabbing a coffee, we headed off to a place called Gammelstad, a UNESCO World Heritage collection of little red Swedish cottages that used to be the centre of medieval centre of northern Sweden. The centre of activity centred around the stone church, built in 1492. Pilgrims would come at weekends to their church from all over northern Sweden, and the little red huts were used to accommodate them. Although very picturesque, I must say it felt a little like a ghost town. The place was virtually deserted, bar the lady in the visitor centre, and Howard and I did wonder if perhaps we had missed some cataclysmic event that no-one else had told us about! Clearly the little houses are no longer in regular use, although they had put up net curtains and filled the windows with plastic flowers to make it look like they were – all a bit staged.

We then headed the short distance to our campsite. A world of difference from last night’s melee! This is a quiet small campsite, and we were lucky to bag one of the last places. We really are going to have to start planning ahead! It is also uber organised – you have to book a slot to do your washing. Sadly, all there ones today were taken – so we have been given the 7.30 am slot. Oh the joys of communal living! Think of us tomorrow morning sorting out our ‘smalls’ at the crack of dawn, all ye with the luxury of your own washing machines!!

Our lodge in Abisko last night was very convivial, with a restaurant serving delicious local cuisine. The home-made fennel and seed crisp breads were sensational – we asked for second helpings, and the chef gave us his recipe. Howard, yet again, ate reindeer. I don’t think Father Christmas will be calling on him, this year.

As we headed out of Abisko, we took a last look at Lake Tornetrask, which last time we had seen it at New Year 2015, had been frozen solid. The night we had stayed there, we had watched an amazing display of the Northern Lights – very memorable. From just behind our lodge, helicopters had been taking off and landing at regular intervals since the early hours. We wondered if perhaps they were being used to fight the many forest fires that are currently raging throughout Sweden, but unusually, in Arctic Sweden too.

We headed east towards Kiruna, whose raison d’être is the enormous iron ore pit mine – the largest in the world. This mine alone supplies 90% of the iron ore used in Europe. The railway that connects Kiruna with Narvik, on the coast in Norway trundles freight car after freight car along the tracks, day and night. The mine has grown so large, that since 2004, the town of Kiruna has been subsiding into numerous sink holes around the town. As a result, the bold decision was made to relocate the town 3km to the east. Mining is the primary source of employment and income for the town, so it made sense to move the town, rather than close the mine. Some buildings are being moved in entirety, and others, like the church, are being dismantled and then re-build. But the architects are also using this as a huge opportunity to re-generate the town and make it more eco-friendly and more of a sociable pace, with plenty of green spaces linking the buildings. Since mining is the main employer, there is a disproportionate number of men in town, and the gritty utilitarian appearance does not encourage women to stay. So they are taking this re-development over the next twenty or so years, to make the place more appealing to women too – I guess to keep the men happy!

After passing Kiruna, we couldn’t resist taking the short diversion up to Jukkasjarvi, to see the world famous Ice-Hotel. It is here where we had stayed back in 2015, in the depths of winter, when it had looked like a winter wonderland, sitting besides the frozen River Torne, and covered in Christmas lights. Since we had stayed there, they had built an all year round Ice-Hotel, to cater for summer guests, as well as still building the traditional Ice-Hotel every December for the season.

It certainly looked very different on the approach – a wide open road with pine trees everywhere, rather than the white snow-scape we had remembered. The half kilometre wide RIver Torne, which we had cross-country skied cross on our last visit, was a fast flowing river, with motorised canoes running across it. We opted to take the tour inside the new all-year Ice-Hotel, maintained at constant minus six degrees. The main difference was that they had incorporated the Ice-Bar into the hotel itself, rather than being sited in a separate building, but apart from that, the Art-Rooms were just as magical and quirky, each with it’s own theme. We made the error of not accepting the thermal capes on offer, and after forty five minutes or so, we were starting to get very cold indeed. I’m not sure it would be the same experience staying in an Ice room in the summer, but it was fun to take a look around nevertheless.

After grabbling a quick roll, we then had the long drive to our next campsite at Jokkmokk. We headed south, through mile after mile of thickly forested land. First beech was the predominant tree, then turning to pine. It was endless and very tedious. Our only bit of excitement was when a herd of young reindeer wandered into the road, and stopped dead, whilst the mother suckled one of the youngsters. They took absolutely no notice of the traffic trying to pass by them – stupid animals!

We eventually arrived at Jokkmokk. I t looks a pleasant enough town, famous for it’s Sami culture. We will explore more tomorrow, since it wad getting late, and we headed straight to the campsite. For the first time on this trip, the campsite was full. There were no electric hook-ups left. They offered us a pitch by the lake with no electricity, which is fine, since we have a solar panel fitted to the roof, and frankly, it is much more pleasant down by the lake itself. The site is huge, as seem to be many of the residents – unusual in our tip so far. There are also hundreds of screaming children – summer holidays are upon us! I think we are going to have to start booking sites in advance, or at least, opting for child un-friendly sites – being surrounded by all this humanity is perhaps a step too far, for me at least. We have been totally spoilt for most of this trip, selecting quiet panoramic spots. 

Our one piece of excitement is our new pice of kit. It is an insect repellent lamp, powered by a small butane cylinder, which lets off an odour undesirable for flies for up to 20 metres, or so it claims! We were spurred into buying it this morning in the supermarket, whilst picking up bread, when we saw that the local postcards had large photos of mosquitos on them! A variation on ‘Wish You Were Here’, I guess!! So far, it is working. Howard and I are sat inside the van, mosquito nets up, gas-powered repellent lamp on, lathered in fly-repellent spray, armed with our zappy bats. I bet you wish you were here too?!!!

Today we bade a fond farewell to Oliver. I must admit to being a bit choked up as he left – he had been good company, and we had enjoyed an amazing road trip together. Howard had clearly enjoyed having some other male company, even if, at times, they were rather silly together. They came back smiling from their Friday evening beer together, if a little sheepish!

After we had deposited Oliver at Tromso Airport, we started our long journey back down through Scandinavia. As we left Tromso, it had been misty and dank, but within half an hour outside the city, we realised why – as we looked back, there was a huge inversion sitting over the city. Outside of the low cloud base, the sun was blaring, and not for the first time in Arctic Norway, we had to put the air-conditioning on.

For a while, we re-traced our steps back to Nordkjosbotn, where we had turned up for our drive to Nordkapp. We then headed south towards Narvik, famous for the iron ore railway that runs between it and Kiruna in Sweden. It still carries freight, but has also become a popular tourist railway journey, through some of the most spectacular parts of Swedish Lapland.

After Narvik, we headed eastwards, crossing the border into Sweden without so much as a blink. We headed for the beautiful Abisko National Park in Swedish Lapland. We had visited here at New Year in 2015, when it was a winter wonderland, covered in snow and ice. Today, it was hardly recognisable as the same place – still beautiful, but not in quite the same magical way as in the snow. We managed a walk down to the gorge, looking out over the wide river, the last time we saw it, it had been frozen solid. We had booked into a lodge for the night, there being a dearth of campsites in the vicinity. It turned out to be a gem of a place. On first glance, it looked dismal. However, once inside, it had real character, and turned out to have an amazing restaurant. So tonight, Howard has dined on reindeer, no longer under the vegetarian eyes of Oliver, who would have wholly disapproved!

We are now trying to plan the next part of our trip. It seems driving down through Finland may involve 800 kilometres of forest and flies, so we may travel down through coastal Sweden for a bit, before hopping over to Finland. There are certainly plenty of flies here already, and as the temperatures rise further south, it will only get worse. This is probably the worst part of camping in the summer. We have already exhausted four bottles of insect repellent, and our zappy bats have proved indispensable. Oliver wasn’t entirely in favour of them – he felt it was an unnecessary carnage. I suspect he is more sympathetic now though, returning home covered in insect bites! I suspect we will look back on this trip, and think at times, it was utter madness. For now, though, we plod on. There is plenty more of Europe to explore!

The ‘Midnight Sun’ concert last night in the Arctic Cathedral was absolutely brilliant, exceeding all our expectations. It turned out there were just three participants – a soprano singer, a female flautist / singer, and a male organist / pianist. The concert started with the organ playing and the female soprano singing a hauntingly beautiful Norwegian folk song from the back balcony. The acoustics were utterly wonderful, and her stunning voice just echoed around the cathedral. On the third number, the two musicians and the singer slowly walked up the aisle and came to the front of the cathedral. For the next hour we were utterly mesmerised by the music and singing. It was mainly traditional Scandinavian songs and music, with one piece by Debussy. The flautist was just amazing, and towards the end, she also sang a Sami lullaby, accompanied on the piano. The applause at the end of the concert was heartfelt. The performers then came back to do an encore. To our absolute delight, it was ‘Auld Land Syne’. The soprano sung it in the style of the folk version. If any of you have seen the ‘Sex and the City’ film, you may remember at the end that they played the Mairi Campbell version of this traditional song. She sung it absolutely beautifully, the only song not sung in Norwegian, and it really touched the three of us. Halfway through, Howard, Oliver and I crossed and linked arms, and very discreetly swayed to the music. Magic!

As we left the cathedral, the singer and musicians were at the door, saying goodbye. We explained that we were from Scotland, and had really appreciated the last number, and they seemed genuinely pleased with our appreciation.

We got a taxi back to our hotel. The taxi driver was a Somalian refugee, who had been in Tromso for four years. Back home, he had been a TV anchorman, but had brought his wife and three children to Europe for a better future, without the constant worry of war and corruption. We had a nice chat – he was clearly an intelligent man, and we joked about the difference in weather between Arctic Norway and sub-Saharan Africa. He clearly struggled in the cold dark winters, but was studying between work at the local TV station, and taxi driving in the evenings to subsidise his income. I’m sure he will make a great success of his life in Norway, and a prime example of how hard working many immigrants to Europe are prepared to be. It saddens me that some people are less than tolerant of these brave diverse individuals, who have given up everything in their home countries to do the best for their families in a new life abroad. 

We all slept really well in our beds last night. After a leisurely start, we headed into Tromso for coffee and breakfast. Our original plan had been to catch the cable car up to the mountain overlooking the city, and take a walk. However, the weather was yet again against us. We couldn’t even see the mountain for the mist, and felt that there was no point just walking in cloud. So instead, we headed for the Polar Museum for an hour. Here they had displays of trapping and hunting in the Arctic, a section on whaling, and then a really interesting display about polar exploration. In particular, the sections on the polar explorers Amundsen and Nansen were intriguing. 

We sourced a quaint little cafe for a bowl of soup for lunch, then had a look around the town. It is attractive enough, with a pleasant harbour, and streets extending up the hill of old clapboard houses. In it’s day, it had clearly been very prosperous, which is what had led to it being given the nickname ‘Paris of the North’. I probably wouldn’t go that far, but it certainly has an appeal. It is a university city, but clearly all the students are away on their summer vacation, leaving the place pretty quiet – a bit like St. Andrews when the students have all left, but the golfers not yet arrived.

There was some debate about what to do this afternoon, but in the end the ‘boys’ opted to do the Mack Brewery tour. Initially, I had thought I’d give it a miss, since I don’t drink beer, but am really pleased I opted to tag along. The Mack Brewery is the most northerly brewery in the world, and is the heart and soul of Tromso. It has been in the Mack family for generations, and a film about the brewery was just as much about social history, as about brewing. We were then shown around, and taken to the ‘Microbrewery’ that is on site, whereas the main brewing operation has moved to newer purpose built premises to the south of Tromso. The ‘Microbrewery’ was a hoot. The two young brewers apparently concoct their new brews to the sound of rock music. Each of the steel fermenters has paintings of famous musicians painted on the front, and they recommend that you drink each new ale, listening to the rock music that inspired it’s creation! I’m sure a bit of a gimic, but quite good fun, nevertheless. The programme inevitably ended with a tasting session – Howard and Oliver were mightily glad to get extra from myself, and all in all, it was a thoroughly enjoyable afternoon.

This evening, we had a final meal together, before Oliver leaves bright and early in the morning. It has been really lovely seeing him again, as I do miss then boys horribly. I am just praying that we manage to get him to the airport at the crack of dawn, since perhaps unwisely, I have yet again let the ‘boys’ out for one last farewell beer together. If it’s anything like last night, there’ll be a bit of ‘Dad dancing’ on the way home! Heaven forbid!!

Yesterday was our last night of camping with Oliver, before returning to Tromso. It was a warm, balmy evening, and no-one on the campsite seemed to want to go to bed, except Howard and Oliver, that is. I sat up for a while typing my blog, and then realised it was nearly midnight.  A soft pink glow enveloped the camping ground, and I couldn’t resist going to check it out. I walked the short distance down to the water’s edge, and stood with some of the other campers. The sun was blazing, well above the horizon, casting a bright orange glow across the sky. It looked absolutely incredible – the best display of the midnight sun we had seen during our time in the Arctic Circle. I scurried back to Oscar, and asked if anyone was awake. Both Howard and Oliver stirred, so I coaxed them out to see the sun. Truly memorable!

At about 3 am, the wind picked up. I peeped my head outside Oscar, to see the awning flapping around. I woke up Howard, who decided we should take it down. Oliver remained tucked up asleep in his tent in the middle, whilst Howard and I struggled to dismantle the awning. Norwegians staying in the hut next to our van were still up drinking, and were vaguely amused by our antics. They asked if we were leaving, and I explained that the wind was too strong for the awning, but also mentioned to them that they were making a hell of a noise sitting outside their cabin, laughing and joking, at 3am. I think they got the hint, because within the next wee while they retired to their beds.

This morning, we were all a bit bleary eyed after our late night, but knew we couldn’t hang around, since we had a ferry to catch, or to be precise, two ferries. We had opted to cut the corner on the long drive back to Tromso, and save ourselves a hundred kilometres or so by catching ferries straight across the fjords in the heavily glaciated Lyngen Peninsula. As on our drive northwards a few days earlier, the scenery was amazing. As we drove along Lyngenfjorden, tall snow clad Lyngen Alps and glaciers emerged straight from the fjord on the western flank. Truly stunning, and all the better for the glorious sunshine that was still upon us.

We caught the first ferry with literally minutes to spare. We sat out of the deck in the warm sun and admired the fantastic views of glaciers in the distance.

After disembarking, we stopped off to buy bread rolls for lunch, and then headed across Lyngen to catch the next ferry. As we drove along the fjord, we could see the ferry in the dock. Howard sped up, for fear we would miss it. However, it was another twenty minutes or so before it eventually started boarding, giving just enough time to make our cheese rolls and eat them. The second ferry crossing was a lot quicker, and barely gave us time to down a cup of coffee, before it was time to disembark.

We then had just under an hours drive into Tromso. Approaching from the east, we stopped off at the Ishavskatedralen, or Arctic Cathedral, built in 1965 with eleven triangular concrete arches, covered in white painted corrugated iron, giving it a glacier-like appearance. On dark winter’s nights when it is illuminated, I’m sure it looks absolutely stunning, but close-up, in the by now cloudy sky, it looked less than spectacular. One of the draws of the cathedral are the series of nightly midnight concerts throughout the summer. We enquired at the desk, and managed to bag some tickets for the concert later that night.

By the time we had checked in to our accommodation in Tromso, the weather had changed completely. First a heavy cloud layer built up, obliterating the sun, and then within an hour, it was raining. We had a quick walk around town, until the rain became so heavy, with accompanying thunderclaps, that we retreated back to our rooms to dry off.

If we had experienced weather like this when we were away camping, it would have been truly grim. We could only count our blessings that we had managed to bag the best spell of weather in Arctic Norway that they have seen for a long time.

Once dry, we walked into town again for supper, before heading off to the Cathedral concert. I made the critical error of suggesting that Howard and Oliver grab a quick beer or two beforehand. We arrived outside the cathedral with Howard singing, ‘Take Me to Church’ by Hozier. A bit of an error of judgement on my part!!