Etappe 11 - Lapland

Have you ever swum in a sea of red? Or flown in a red, burning sky? We have! And today, for hours. It was fantastic and after all the many days that are already behind us, not to mention the many places in the world that we have seen and experienced, this was once again a new highlight!
Ruska!

It's Indian Summer in Lapland and that means everything is red and yellow and orange and the earth seems to be burning in these colors. We spontaneously go for a hike up to Jormliklum and after about 200 meters of altitude, the steep muddy forest path in front of us opens up to a wide plain. Everything is vast. The red and yellow grass sways gently in the wind, the birch trees in the distance snuggle up to the rising hill, their leaves seem to be burning. In between, the white bright sky and the damp, fresh air. Breathe. Our hearts also expand. That's the beauty of hiking. You come to yourself, become aware of yourself and at the same time seem to sink into nature. Everything becomes one and flows. Nothing is rigid or forced anymore, but it is simple and embraces you, and at the same time everything is freedom. Inhale, exhale. The heat in the body is not uncomfortable, but pure energy and it wants to go out into the world. The gaze wanders into the distance to huge lakes and hills and mountains covered in all colors. Keep going. Breathe. The ground squelches under our muddy hiking boots, step by step. We are in Sweden. More precisely in Swedish Lapland. A world of its own...

We continue driving. The Wilmark Road is truly unique and M83 and Moby provide the musical backdrop for our impressions. Reindeer run in front of us (video)

We pass rivers, waterfalls, drive along huge lakes, as big as inland seas.

Suddenly, full stop.

Reindeer on the road again. Fortunately, nothing happens, we just watch as the obviously young animal dances on the road, looking left and right. It seems to be considering which way to go. There is a fence on the right side of the road and maybe it wants to go through there? Anyway, it now runs in that direction and suddenly more reindeer cross the road. They seem to have found the opening in the fence and climb through. Since we seem to be far enough away and the road is empty, I get out, film and take pictures. A whole herd. They simply live here as one with nature.

We slowly start driving again, even more alert. Just in case another animal jumps in front of the car.

It always seems to get dark before we arrive. This time we actually planned to stay somewhere else, but we're just tired and we think, let's give it a try. After all, we only want to stay for one night.

The Kolgarden campsite is very modern, because instead of a reception, there is just a telephone handset that you pick up. Then a woman's voice answers and says she will be right there. While we wait, I look at the little nicely illuminated cabin where we are parked and notice that there is a common room with a large kitchen, crackling fireplace, and toilets with music. Another one of those wonderful Swedish campsites.

The lovely lady arrives on her bike and shows us a nice spot by the lake. We don't mind being surrounded by huge caravans. It's pouring rain and it's already late. We are just glad to have arrived and to be able to wash up before going to sleep.

The next morning, the beauty of this place becomes apparent. It's still raining lightly, but the many motorhomes have already left, and we are surrounded by a lot of grass again, with a large quiet lake in front of us, a cute sauna cottage with a pier next to us, and the cozy common room with the fireplace behind us.

I pack up my laptop and trudge up in rubber boots. I can work here. And make myself a nice delicious instant coffee in the kitchen. Wonderful.

In fact, we stay here the whole day and I enjoy putting more wood into the fireplace. Thanks to Frankenfelde, I know what to pay attention to so that the embers never go out. It's a wonderful feeling to heat only with wood. And finally, I can do some laundry again. We ask the kind lady from the campsite until when we are allowed to stay here and she says that at this time there is no hurry. There are hardly any other guests anyway.

Another hour later, we decide to stay here for another night and also try out the sauna. While Chris follows the recommendation of the boss to park in an even nicer spot, I carry firewood into the sauna stove and start heating it.

The two of us, the fire crackling, warm wood beneath us, warm air around us, and our gaze directed towards the wide lake. The sky is clearing up again and when we jump into the water, the air steams above us. That's what makes the sauna fun!

After the second sauna session, Chris makes us a Cuba Libre and we feel like it's Sunday. Yes, it is Sunday again. How can time pass so quickly? Just one more week on tour in Scandinavia.
In the end, we sit comfortably in the fireplace-heated common room, I cook tortellini, and Chris has turned on the 'Kanzlertriell' on TV. He sits in front of it, eager, and we discuss once again the redundancy and meaningfulness of the statements not only of the candidates, but also of the moderation team.

The next morning is Monday and after my first phone calls, we have cornflakes in front of the fireplace. We order some things to be sent to Germany because we have decided: in one week we will be in Tampere and then a week later we will return to Germany by ferry to attend a business appointment of Chris'. And then off again, to warmer climates. We have gotten used to not having to plan and feel somewhat uncomfortable having to book the ferry a week in advance. Especially since it is very expensive. But we already explored the Baltic States last year and Chris' appointment seems important to us.

In the end, we decide to leave and the boss of the campsite also says that we should have left long ago. Despite the end of the season. Well then. Chris goes for one last swim in the Nordic, icy-cold waters and I strike up a conversation with a very nice and open-minded tourist couple. An older couple from the Netherlands who also travel here in Scandinavia for a long time and enjoy it. I realize how rarely we have had longer conversations with strangers here. In general, how much we have been solely focused on each other. How nice it can feel to talk to another person again, to receive different impulses. I enjoy the moment and absorb their joy. With renewed energy, Chris and I are back on tour shortly afterwards. We want to experience the remaining part of the Vildmark Road before we really immerse ourselves in Lapland again. Because we have also decided - we want to go high again. Searching for northern lights!

I don't need to say that it's dark when we arrive at Beatrice's island. Somewhere in Lapland, you have to drive over a bridge and then a long stretch of road, past countless red, yellow, orange trees and quiet lakes. Then left. Eventually, after a long time without seeing a house or a car, a courtyard opens up in the dark. On it stands a large red Swedish house, cozyly illuminated, and a beautiful woman runs out and calls in flawless accented German, 'Hello! Welcome!' Beatrice lives here with her son Ludwig and her husband, and in the summer, she inhabits this place where her grandmother grew up and which she has now transformed into a cozy place for nomads. There is already a small very simple toilet house here and a hut that says 'Disco'. Nothing else is missing now. There are also a few more small huts scattered around and cozy lights seem to burn everywhere. 'These are my friends, many visitors are friends from Germany or Switzerland, and we are also looking for people who come here and help build this place!' It's very cozy here, I think to myself. Chris and I quickly settle in. We cook (I think it was pasta?) and in between, Chris keeps looking out the window. Beatrice had looked up at the sky and said, 'Yes, it was light for so long over there today. Maybe there will even be Northern Lights. Sometimes you're lucky here.'

When I look up at the sky after brushing my teeth, I stop. It's flickering. Green. Or is it? Chris! We quickly put on jackets. Hand in hand, we walk across the field, stop next to a meadow, and look up at the almost cloudless starry sky. A faint glow can be seen. Is that the light everyone is talking about?

I'm very excited. Eventually, we lie back comfortably in the camper. It's very, very cold. We watch a movie and I fall asleep contentedly. And Chris? He stays up for a long time, occasionally peering out of the window. Someone has to keep watch. And then it happens. In the middle of the night, Chris wakes me up. I am immediately wide awake and we quickly put on our warm jackets and go out into the night. Now it is clearly visible. The green Northern Lights flicker on the horizon. It is moving, shining brightly, fading, moving back and forth. It forms a strip and disappears again. We are overjoyed. Who would have thought? The Northern Lights! We whistle, as Beatrice told us to, and it feels like the light is dancing along. We are definitely dancing, moving lightly back and forth. It is clearly visible and we are somehow enchanted by the magic of the moment. No one else awake, just the two of us. Alone in this world, our world. Alone among billions of stars and accompanied by the strange glow in the darkness, around which countless legends revolve.
As I lie back in bed and close my eyes, I still see the Northern Lights. I will dream of them now.

'See you soon! Take care! Goodbye!' Beatrice waves and then we're on our way to Jokkmokk. That's very close to the Arctic Circle and now we know that we want to go there. Maybe there will be more Northern Lights? In any case, it's even further north, even more vast, even more freedom, even more adventure. Let's hope.

This dream bursts. Well, not entirely. It's more like our rear tire that bursts.

It's certainly lucky that Chris is so careful and attentive because he immediately notices the air escaping from the left rear tire and it quickly becomes flatter. So we don't drive on the rim for long, but stop directly in a bay at the edge of the lonely and very rocky 200km road to the Arctic Circle.

And by now, it's hard to believe, but we are really getting used to it. We know what it means to experience adventures and deal with minor challenges. Being 100km from one and 100km from the other larger city, standing in the middle of Lapland on a lonely road without any other vehicles is a perspective. The other one is: we have water, we have food and a kitchen and a bed. We even have a toilet and we have time. Fortunately, we also have decent cell phone reception, although not in abundance. After an hour, I reach our insurance company, long after Chris has already called for a tow truck through the ADAC. Our insurance company has a hotline that is not reliably staffed. But they are very nice and promise to cover the costs of the ADAC anyway.
Well then. Besides waiting and enjoying the endless expanse of this landscape, we don't have to do anything. And so we laugh in between, I dance on the empty road, and we eat cookies and... wait.

The tow truck arrives two hours later, a huge fire-red truck. Its driver is a cheerful Swede and he seems to have done this a few times before. Chris' concern about whether they can load us up from the unpaved forest floor of the bay is quickly dispelled. Instead, he has to lend a hand and help drive our camper onto the loading ramp. Or rather, let it be towed up. My task is to film. Very nice!

And so we drive to Jokkmokk without really driving, and experience the journey from a high vantage point with a great panoramic view. Such a tow truck gives you a majestic feeling and we also like its strong headlights. We could use something like that. The friendly tow truck driver then lets us off right in front of the workshop after about an hour's drive. They start again at 7 o'clock in the morning. And until then, we don't need to worry 'This is a safe place here. We have no crazy people in Jokkmokk.' We look at him doubtfully as a pickup with loud music passes us, loaded with a group of teenagers. Well, for him, we seem to be the only crazy people here. He suddenly bursts into laughter and can't stop. We look at him inquiringly. He chuckles to himself for a while and looks at us with great significance. Then he explains to us that a flamingo in the window here means 'Open for swingers!' Now the three of us are laughing, somewhat embarrassed of course. We allow him to take the photo he asks for, with the flamingo in the window of our camper. Of course, without us. Waving and laughing, he zooms off into the night. And while I carefully remove the flamingo from the window, Chris darkens the rest of the windows and locks up tightly. Alone in a parking lot in front of a workshop on the outskirts of a small town near the Arctic Circle. Without the possibility to drive away. Fortunately, I see the benefit now of not watching any scary movies, so my imagination can't play tricks on me. At least, as long as my Chris is nearby.

So the next morning, we go out early. We are not the first ones. The first Norwegian station wagon is already jacked up and in progress. Within about 30 minutes, our camper undergoes the same procedure. This workshop here has one single purpose - to put new tires on vehicles of all kinds (there are tires with a diameter of 2 meters lying around) after they have attempted to drive on the bad, torn road to or from this place. The restoration of our drivability is correspondingly calm and seamless, even wordless. It's still expensive, but once again, we are glad and grateful that ultimately our problems can be solved quite easily with some money. Even if the travel budget is shrinking. But I have to work for something. Work! Oh right, I still have 30 minutes before my next meeting. So we briefly stop by the beautiful white wooden church here and find THE breakfast café in Jokkmok. Here we sit, eat kanelbolle (cinnamon buns) and other sweet pastries, drink coffee and juice, and send Basti and Theresa the address in Tampere where they kindly should send our package from Dresden.

After breakfast and my meeting, we go to the local museum. The Sami Museum is well-known because it claims to exhibit all the artifacts that are still preserved from the culture of the Sami, the indigenous population of Lapland. It will be a wonderful visit. We wander through the very lovingly and extensively prepared interactive exhibition with films and many pieces of clothing, tools, jewelry, photos, personal accounts, stuffed animals, as well as tents, rugs, and food that represent the natural and culturally conscious way of life of the Sami who still live in Lapland today. Part of the exhibition is dedicated to the Arctic fox, an extremely rare and almost extinct animal that is trying to hold onto its habitat in this region. Its life. It is not easy, as climate change is diminishing its reasons for living. We read, look, and marvel a lot.
Immersed in the region, we finally continue to Kiruna. An hour's drive. The last city on the edge of civilization. The North Pole is getting closer. Adventure. And more Northern Lights?