Even the most wonderful dream comes to an end – and this is exactly when the alarm clock rings and takes one rudely out of the comforting dreamland surroundings. That day, my alarm clock rang 7am and brought the last night in the youth hostel Kabelvåg, where I had stayed for two nights, to an end. Right on time at 7:30 I was ready for breakfast in the youth hostel. I really enjoyed it once more because I had realised that beetroot and pickled gherkin are not so bad for breakfast. After that unhurried start into the day which was promising given the blue sky and shining sun, it was time to definitely take my backpack. At the reception I asked once more for the ferry connection to Skutvik and the bus connection to Bodø respectively Fauske. The young lady at the receptions was incredibly helpful. She found all necessary timetables in the internet and printed them out for me. Now I knew more than before and it was time to leave this place which was able to captivate me after such a short time. I took the 9:00 bus to Svolvær and got off at the harbour. The ferry wouldn’t leave before 10:00 according to the timetable. So I had plenty of time and observed the buzz of activity at the harbour. Coming from Skutvik the boat arrived already 9:30 and delivered its passengers. I bought a ticket and boarded the ferry. It was 10:00 until all passengers and vehicles had got on. The ferry cast off slowly and more and more moved away from the island’s mountainous shore of Austvagøy. I found a nice place on deck from where I looked back longingly for a very long time. There I met an older married couple from Hessen. They were on a bus journey across Scandinavia and doted a lot on their holidays. I’m not sure if I wanted to be dependent on a bus and a strict travel plan, but in the end everybody has to decide that for him/herself how he or she wants to travel. On the other hand, though, I don’t think that I will still travel with backpack and tent through the countries when I’m, let’s say, 50 years old. In that respect I really liked the couple’s enthusiasm about this kind of roundtrips. During the two-hours crossing we talked intensively about the North’s beauty specifically and the almost magical attraction of travelling in general. When we arrived at the harbour of Skutvik we said goodbye and wished each other a good trip with a whole lot of more wonderful Scandinavian impressions. I left the ferry and was alone again. It was then when I realised: Lofoten islands are lying behind me. Returning to that place is most possible!

Day number 1 – and I see myself facing the question: When did this journey actually really begin? If I define it more broadly then I’d say that this adventure had already begun in late summer 2005 when I was first thinking about a trip like this. I could also define it more closely and make the start of the planning phase in mid-January 2007 become the beginning. Or maybe it was rather the day when I took my backpack and set out? Sounds logical, but for some reason the night train to Kemi was the real and official start. When I began planning the trip I wanted to start in the evening from Jyväskylä. The ticket was already valid during the whole day, though, what I wanted to use to full capacity. It seemed to be appropriate to go to Helsinki since the night train to Kemi would depart from there. And what’s more, I hadn’t seen so much of Helsinki, yet. July 22nd was a Sunday. So I wanted to take the first train to Helsinki 8:22. It wasn’t too early and the trip could begin very unhurried. The evening before I really had ants in my pants. When I had completely packed my backpack I realised that this was the kickoff – Scandinavia by train. I had already bought the ScanRail ticket two weeks before, so there was no going back. I talked to my mum on the telephone and promised to take care of myself. The most precious talk that last evening in Jyväskylä, though, I had with Anne. My excitement had risen to an unpredictable level. And Anne could understand best how I felt in that moment. After all, we had been travelling across Europe together for 4½ weeks in 2005. This talk did good and could calm me down. The last person I said goodbye was my good flatmate Marika. We hugged each other and told each other once more how we were looking forward to meeting in Stockholm. That would be already two weeks later. Then it was time to go to bed. As expected it wasn’t that easy to find some rest or sleep at first, but after a while I could cope with my excitement and slept surprisingly well. The next day, the first day of the trip, the weather was like most of the days during the following three weeks – sun shine, blue sky, warm – so, it was perfect. I almost missed the train to Helsinki because I hadn’t been able to read the bus time table properly, as so often. I stood at the bus stop waiting and wondering why the bus hadn’t come. The timetable said 7:35 but it was already 7:45. Once more I checked the timetable and finally noticed that there was no such bus on Sundays. That was not too good for me and so I had to suffer the consequences: Walk! But, please, not too slowly! I wasn’t used to the bulk on my shoulders, yet, and so the sprint to the train station became a severe endurance test and at that opportunity I established a new course record. Yeah! Quite exhausted I arrived at the train station at 8:15, right on time. Being a little proud of my performance I got on the IC to Turku. In Tampere I had to change trains for Helsinki and got on the Pendolino. I arrived half past eleven. I locked my baggage in one of the baggage lockers in the train station as I had done it already quite often. I wondered: “What should or did I want to do?”. I wasn’t really prepared for a day in Helsinki and so I just started poking a bit around. I remembered that I had never seen the parliament from a close distance, only from the train. So I decided to go there, then past Finlandia talo and opera and finally around Töölönlahti. When I had reached the train station again I walked to Merisatamanranta. It’s a promenade along the seaside with Cafés and ice cream parlours. Since the weather was exceptionally nice the place was buzzing. The cafés were filled with people; Helsinki’s inhabitants went to the Archipelago with their boats or just sat down near the water and enjoyed the sun and some ice cream. I followed suit and decided to sit down on a rock from where I could watch the buzz of activity around me a little. I sat there for a while and was glad to be there. Being in a bad mood that day would have really been a sin. After I had enough of my bath in the sun I left that nice place and walked around the Kaivopuisto Park towards the market square. It was already 5pm. That’s the time when the big Baltic ferries to Stockholm depart. It’s an interesting spectacle to watch how the enormous giants navigate through the narrow gaps of the Archipelago. I sat down at the harbour and watched the Silja Serenade departing from the Terminal. When the ferry was only a speck between the islands I continued my walk through Helsinki. I wanted to catch at least a glimpse of the Cathedral. So I went to Senaatintori and from there along the Aleksanterinkatu back to the train station. I still needed a seat reservation for the night train which I wanted to purchase right away. The nice lady at the desk asked me if I wanted a sleeping berth or a sleeping seat; the reservation would cost the same for each. The last free couchette would be in a compartment next to the smoking room, though. I didn’t want to die of nicotine poisoning in a night train and so I asked how much one would note the smoking room in direct neighbourhood. She just said: “Ok“, and issued a ticket. When I had got it I took a closer look at it and noticed that it was a reservation for a seat. Well, I didn’t mind so much about it. It wouldn’t be the last journey in a night train I had to spend on a sleeping seat, for sure. I released my baggage from the locker’s steely squeeze and went to the platform. The train to Kajaani was departing from the platform next to me. I would have really liked to get on that train and pay a visit to Vuokatti, a place in Finland I like really a lot. Though, I didn’t want to deviate from my plan already the first day. So I boarded the night train to Kemi which had meanwhile pulled into the station. The carriages must have come directly from hell given the temperatures inside. I found my seat and parked the backpack on the neighbouring seat, hoping that this seat wasn’t taken. This hope was soon destroyed when a young Fin came to claim his seat. I asked if he could help me to hoist my backpack onto the luggage rack and he kindly did so. When he had sat down next to me I could catch a glance at his student card. His name was Juha, student in Oulu. He was really a very shy example of a Fin, when I think back how much he wanted to be as close as possible to the aisle. Not to confuse him much more I seeked for the proximity of the window. Since he was going to Oulu we had to hold out like this for ten hours. To bring down the temperature in the car all available windows were opened which finally made the air in the car become pretty cool and let me freeze a little bit. Those people who could really sleep in this fully-seated hot-cold train were snoring deliciously. In that environment I didn’t even dare thinking about sleeping so that I watched the evening twilight which turned to morning twilight during the course of the night before the sun would rise again only a few hours after it had set. In between I dozed off every now and then. Soon it was 5am and the train arrived in Oulu ten minutes later. Juha left the train and I could finally stretch out. When the train moved on 30 minutes later, though, a daddy sat down next to me and explained that his little daughter needed more space to sleep. Well then, so much for stretching out. We grown-ups don’t need that much sleep anymore, so it was ok for me. The more important thing was that the little girl could find some sleep. I could now give up my intentions to sleep completely and looked around with that bleary-eyed and empty-headed look in my face. My eyes travelled through the train, then to the left over the aisle, to the opposite row of seats and finally out of the window. Suddenly I saw something big and grey with four legs. I looked away and was pretty sure that this was a hallucination. Within a few milliseconds I became aware that it might be an animal I’d always wanted to see in real life. Quickly I looked back and indeed: An elk was standing there! In the middle of a field which was surrounded by forest. I was still looking out of the window with a big, fat smile when the train had already passed the point where I had seen the elk. For me an elk is a very exotic animal and I had always wanted to see one, or at least a reindeer. I was so happy and satisfied about that and the remaining hour in the train elapses unexpectedly quickly. The train arrived on time 6:47 in Kemi. I took my stuff and got off the train. I hadn’t expected it to be so cool there, but it was refreshingly convenient. Without any delay I wanted to go further to Tornio by bus and searched for right bus stop. It was still the beginning but I already felt like being right in the middle of my trip. Three weeks were lying ahead of me. I didn’t have any idea what these three weeks would have to offer, but I knew that it could only be great.

It was a nice day in Trondheim. I woke up totally refreshed, the sun was shining and the sky was blue. Anabel had already got up and had left a note for me. She informed me that we would meet in the café for breakfast. So I also got up and went downstairs to the café. I really met Anabel there who told me that she hadn’t been up for a very long time, yet. After a long breakfast we decided to begin the day with a walk. The first place we visited was Kristiansten fortress built in the 17th century. It’s situated on a hill from where we enjoyed the fantastic view over the city, the fjord and the mountains. From there we walked into the city centre where I desperately had to exchange money since I hadn’t had enough cash with me to pay for the accommodation. Non-Norwegian credits cards were not accepted there. We searched for an exchange office and found one quite quickly. There I had to notice that I didn’t have any Euros with me. That meant that I had to walk back to the InterRail Center (TIRC) where I had forgotten them. It wasn’t necessary for Anabel to come with me and we wanted to meet one hour later. I rushed back to the TIRC, fetched my money, walked back to the exchange office and exchanged Euros into Norwegian Kroner. Then I went to the bookshop where I wanted to meet with Anabel again. After we had spent one hour there skimming through various books we left he shop again. We poked a while around the pedestrian street, bought some groceries in a supermarket and walked back to the TIRC. There we took a sunbath on a couch in the garden, enjoyed the wonderful weather, read in our books and talked a little. There we reasoned if we wanted to have dinner in the TIRC again. Pasta was on that day’s menu and this pasta looked and smelled very tempting. Finally we could bring ourselves to have that dish but then we had to learn that we were too late. They were all sold out. We looked at each other with some disappointment and wondered what we could do instead. There were two possibilities: The first one was tin pasta prepared on my Esbit cooker, the second possibility was a pizzeria’s All-You-Can-Eat offer we had seen earlier that day in town. The Esbit thing was quite interesting for Anabel since she had never done something like this before. So, we almost had an open-air Esbit cooker dinner. Big heavy rain clouds covered the sky, though. We were not so sure if it would be raining during the evening and changed our minds in favour of pizza. Thanks to Annabel’s excellent sense of orientation we found the pizzeria right away and had delicious pizza and salad there. We had to leave at 8pm, though. The pizzeria closed already. The last piece of pizza hadn’t really found its way into our stomachs, yet, which forced us to move very slowly back to the TIRC rather than walking properly as it is common for the species Homo sapiens. When we had arrived in the TIRC we quickly agreed that we wanted to support our digestive tracts with some caffeine. So we finished the day with a nice cup of coffee in the TIRC café’s relaxed atmosphere.

I was still lying inside my tent somewhere close to Svolvær when it started to rain. It was still at the dead of night and it was only a short shower that woke me up. So I wasn’t worried that much, yet. The same thing happened several times again during that night, the showers became longer and heavier which made me eventually become worried in the end. The rain started again in the early morning but this time it was not about to stop very soon. Nevertheless, I was hoping that it would at least recede a little. I wanted to wait half an hour and then finally strike my shelter no matter what the weather would be like until then. My whimsical alarm clock showed half past six, start at latest at 7am. Meanwhile I dragged on and packed up my stuff as much as I could. When I had a look at the watch in my phone I was almost thunderstruck. It was already 9:45!! Waiting half an hour or not didn’t matter anymore. My whimsical alarm clock had proved its fantastic features once more as it has already done many times before. It was already much too late and the rain didn’t recede at all. I decided to leave immediately. I broke up the tent as quickly as I could, thereby achieving a new personal record. That didn’t help, though. I was soppy and soaked through despite rain clothes. But I didn’t have a choice. I took the way back to Svolvær hoping to find a waterproof accommodation there. I followed a sign directing to an accommodation in the centre of Svolvær. When I arrived there I saw that it was a Best Western Hotel. Desperate, naive and brainless as I was in that moment I went in. Fortunately, all rooms were booked; otherwise I would have probably had a very stupid idea. A night in this hotel would have ruined me and my travel plans, for sure. The lady at the reception was very polite and helpful. I must have certainly looked as if I desperately needed some help. She recommended the Sjøhus Camp in Svolvær and the youth hostel in Kabelvåg, and even printed the timetable for the bus to Kabelvåg for me. I thanked as politely as I could for the generous help and left that posh hotel. First I wanted to ask in the Sjøhus Camp if there would be a free bed available. Already at the entrance, though, I had to face a sign saying: We are fully booked. So I couldn’t stay there. The only place that remained was the youth hostel in Kabelvåg. I walked to the market place from where the bus to Kabelvåg was supposed to depart. The market place was already familiar to me since I had been there the day before to ask for a camp site in the tourist information. It was still one hour to wait until the bus left. And since it was still raining I found some shelter under a roof. There I parked my baggage and took the wet clothes off as far as possible. Suddenly I saw a pastry shop a few steps from there. For a moment I was wondering what I should do with my baggage, but I decided to leave it right there. It wasn’t so far to the shop and given the fact that I was starving I didn’t want to be choosy. The tricky thing was that the rule of thumb “Never buy any food when you’re hungry” proved to be absolutely true once more. Though, I can never reject a chocolate muffin… With huge breakfast I returned to my backpack and sat down next to it on the floor. There I wanted to enjoy my meal. I didn’t care about the pedestrians who looked at me. Couldn’t they see how desperate, wet and disappointed I was? Well, most probably they could, judging from the looks in their faces. Yes, and indeed I was disappointed. I had finally arrived in the place of my travel dreams and now I couldn’t even see a thing because the big, bad rain clouds were so low obstructing the view to the surrounding mountains.

While I was sitting there the rain receded and finally it finally stopped totally. Also the bus which took me to Kabelvåg came quite soon. I had to search a bit for the youth hostel in Kabelvåg and since I couldn’t find it I had to ask somebody. I asked the only people I could see. They didn’t speak much English, though. So I had to mix my poor Swedish with what I had already learned in Norwegian until then. Fortunately, that was successful and they could describe and show me the way to the youth hostel. When I arrived there I noticed that check-in was not possible until 3pm. So I had to wait for another two hours and a half. All I wanted was something warm and dry clothes, but there was not much I could do get a bit more comfortable in that moment. First of all, I prepared myself ready-to-serve mash and tea in the youth hostel’s kitchen. That warmed at least a bit. I didn’t have the nerve to wait any longer, though. I didn’t just want to sit and wait. So I left my baggage near the not-manned reception and strolled a bit through Kabelvåg. In a post office I bought postcard which I wrote immediately. During this little walk the time elapsed so quickly and I didn’t notice that it was already 3pm. I walked back to the youth hostel, checked in and I could finally take my bed in the dormitory. My original plan included my departure already for the next day. Though, I hadn’t really seen much of this delightful spot. And I didn’t just want to go there to be able to say afterwards: “Yes, I was there“. That was not enough. I wanted to enjoy being on Lofoten Islands and so I decided to stay one more day. That seemed to be a good decision because the weather was about to improve markedly. After I had made myself a bit comfortable in the dorm I took a nice warm shower. Such refreshed I decided to walk through Kabelvåg once more. I walked up a little hill where found a statue of king Øystein.

This king supported the Lofot fishery in the 12th century by ordering the first robu-cottages to be built. I poked a bit the harbour along the little fisher boats and to the Sjøhus Camp Kabelvåg. On another hill I had a great view over Kabelvåg, the sea and to little neighbouring islands. I even saw the sun from time to time which made me forget the rainy morning completely. I sat down on a wall near the water and called my mum. She likes Lofoten as much as I do. So I did have to tell her that I was there, how disappointing the first day was and how everything was seemed to be turning out to be great now. She was happy that I called and to hear that I was fine. Meanwhile it was evening and I went back to the youth hostel were I had supper in the garden. Suddenly I heard somebody saying to me in German: “Taste good?” I turned around a saw a big, bearded male person. Being still a little confused I asked him: “What told you my origin so unambiguously?” It was the plastic cup with the tea I was drinking. Apparently, these cups with the imprint of a well-known cola brand were used in big numbers in German university cafeterias. I had mine from the Chemnitz University of Technology where I had been studying for four years. So I had somebody to talk to for the rest of the evening. I don’t know his name; what I remember is that I lives in Berlin but was originally from North Germany. It was a very nice talk and we exchanged, of course, our travel experiences in the first place. During the evening the clouds disappeared entirely which made me hope for good weather the next day. And this was exactly the case. When I went to have breakfast the next day the sun was shining and I was beaming with happiness. I enjoyed the great breakfast and so the day could begin. I wanted to put my plan of hiking in the mountains into action. When I was walking towards Svolvær I met again the guy I had talked with the evening before. He wanted to take the bus to Narvik. “But you arrived yesterday in the afternoon?“, I asked almost appalled. I couldn’t really understand how one can come just for a few hours to this paradise-like place. “I have seen it and that’s enough for me. The basic idea of my trip is the Swedish Inlandsbanan”. Ok, that made sense to me, although I’m still thinking that a stay for one night is not satisfying for this wonderful place. Yet, in the end, it’s a matter of opinion. I waited with him for the bus and when it arrived I continued my hiking tour. Soon I left the main road and took a turn towards a hiking trail. There I had some blueberries every now and then. I had almost circled a lake before I decided to elevate myself to higher altitudes. I really have no idea how the mountain is called that I finally clambered. From the peak, though, I had an incredible view. On the one side there were Svolvær and the sea lying there as smooth as a mirror. On the other side, the impressive mountains of the island Austvagøy were lying in front of me. I could have never imagined that place to be so fantastic. In this very moment, on the summit of a, for me, nameless mountain, I probably was the happiest backpacker girl in the world.

I enjoyed this overwhelming feeling and the breathtaking view for a while. Then it was time to climb down again. I wanted to go to Svolvær to get some information about the ferry to Bodø. I got a timetable in the tourist information. I thanked and walked out. When I studied the timetable I had to notice that the ferry would depart the next day at 6:30am. I could never do that. I still would have to go from Kabelvåg to Svolvær first of all. I doubted that there would be a bus at that time and I didn’t want to walk with my baggage. Besides, I would have missed the breakfast in the hostel. So I went back to the tourist information. Hoping that I mis-read the timetable I asked again. But I was right. The first and only ferry would depart at 6:30am. These were damn bad news. I was mentally already wondering what I would do when the nice lady in the information pointed out there was another ferry connection to Skutvik. From there I could take the bus to Bodø. That sounded great to me. She explained where the landing stage for that ferry was and I wanted to go there immediately to check it out. There was absolutely no problem to find the way and the place. Even the bus stopped there and there was a ferry leaving almost every hour. The sun had meanwhile started approaching the horizon and I started approaching Kabelvåg being tired and happy. There I didn’t need a warming but a refreshing shower. I had my supper again in the garden before I went to my room where I was alone surprisingly. No one checked in during the evening, so I had the room all for myself. I fell asleep being very satisfied and incredibly happy. My dream about Lofoten Islands had become real.

Studentersamfundet – the student union – in Trondheim owns its own house. It’s the striking red round house in the Elgesetergate 1. During the summer holidays it serves as accommodation called Trondheim InterRail Center or TIRC. I told Anabel about it in the night train from Fauske to Trondheim and she was thrilled right away. We had met the evening before but when we arrived in Trondheim in the morning we agreed that we wanted to stay together in the TIRC. It was a 20 minutes walk from the train station but we felt that it was little longer given the rain. We arrived in the TIRC quite soaked through. There was a cool relaxes atmosphere despite, or even because it looked a bit chaotic in the red round house we felt comfortable there immediately. We reserved beds for two nights. But when we wanted to pay with our credit cards we were told that non-Norwegian credit cards were not accepted. That was not too good since neither of us had 300 NOK cash. We were directed to the 7-eleven store on the other side of the road, where we would find a cash dispenser. There my personal disaster started. For some mysterious reason I couldn’t take out money. The automat kept on telling me that my PIN code was wrong. “Nonsense”, I thought, “the PIN code is right!”. Many days later I should notice my mistake – transposed digits. Almost yielded to despair I went back to the TIRC with Anabel. I wondered what I could do. Bad enough, it was Sunday and I couldn’t just go to an exchange office. With the nicest smile I have I went back to the reception and made the TIRC guy an offer. I couldn’t pay for my bed in that very moment at all, so I offered to leave my ID card at the reception as deposit. The next day, Monday, I wanted to exchange money and repay the dept as soon as possible. My offer was accepted and I handed over my ID card. Happy and relieved I returned to Anabel who had made herself comfortable on a couch and we decided to have breakfast. I still had enough cash with me to pay for that. The greatest thing about the breakfast buffet was the homemade bread which tasted incredibly delicious and we couldn’t get enough of it. We couldn’t take our beds until noon so we decided to leave our baggage in the baggage room and strolled a bit around in the town. We returned in the late afternoon. After we had found our room we were desperately longing for a shower. So we went to the shower rooms. What we saw there astonished us pretty much, since the showers were by far the craziest thing in this house. At the first glance the shower room looked like any other – with separate showers separated by walls and with a door. When we got into these boxes we had to notice that it was somehow a mixture of a WC and a shower. Basically, it was a toilet with a shower head hanging over it. Actually, we were flabbergasted and really amused about that. Neither of us had ever used a toilet and a shower at the same time. Anabel showed me another attraction in the bathroom. A long corridor led to the bathrooms. There was a big, round mirror on the wall. Another mirror was on the opposite wall so that you could see yourself reflected first of all. But you also saw the reflection of the reflection and its reflection whose reflection of the reflection and again its reflection of the… blablablabla. That’s what I call Perfect Demonstration of Infinity. In that way even the walk to the bathroom got a philosophical component, if you wanted. There was a mirror ball in our room which was illuminated with red light. That created a great atmosphere. At first I thought the light would be switched off during the night, but this was not some tacky youth hostel, this was the TIRC. There this cool light remained switched on. Surprisingly, this light I felt this light to be very relaxing and comforting which made me sleep extraordinarily well in both nights. Besides, I think that Anabel’s “I can sleep anytime and anywhere“-aura was still influencing me as it had already happened in the night train. It was weird, but for no particular reason I could sleep incredibly well when I was travelling with Anabel. So we spent three days in this great InterRailer atmosphere between mixed dorms with hastily arranged bunk beds, great breakfast, disco lights during the nights and the visible infinity. The second day I could get rid of my 300 NOK dept for the two-nights accommodation and when we had to leave the TIRC on the third day we found that pretty difficult. This is a place one can really enjoy.

I went on from Trondheim to the South – first of all with the night train to Oslo. During the day Anabel and I wanted to make a daytrip from Trondheim to Åndalsnes. Thanks to my forgetfulness, though, which made me go back to the TIRC to fetch my ticket the train departed right in that moment when we arrived on the platform. We were really disappointed. And more than that, I had a very guilty conscious. We couldn’t change it anyway and Anabel took it calmly. The alternative was Steinkjer. That train was about to leave quite soon and during that train ride we had the pleasure to go through Hell once more. Steinkjer is a very young town and, actually, there’s not much to see. We poked a bit around, sat down near the fjord for a while and had a cup of coffee in a pastry shop. We went back to Trondheim in the afternoon where we visited the St. Olav’s Festival around the Nidaros Cathedral again. There was an interesting sounding band playing on stage and we decided to stay for a while and listen. At that opportunity my Esbit cooker came into operation. Anabel organised two plastic spoons from somewhere and we backed out of the crowds to a wind- and weatherproof place. Originally, we had thought to prepare lunch with the Esbit cooker somewhere in Åndalsnes or later Steinkjer, respectively. For no particular reason we didn’t put that plan into action. We made up for that at the Nidaros Cathedral and enjoyed an indefinable tinned speciality which was supposed to be pasta and tomato sauce. Soon we were pretty overfed, though. Actually, tinned food is no Haute Cuisine.

 

When we had recovered from this overdose of preserving agents and the rain had receded a bit we went back to the TIRC. There made ourselves comfortable on a couch for the last time, before we had to leave to catch the train. Each of us reserved a seat and in great foresight I also reserved a seat for the train from Oslo to Bergen already there. The original plan had included to go from Trondheim to Bergen directly by bus and then from Bergen to Oslo on this so very well-known rail route. I was fed up with busses, though, and despite of a 50% discount for Scan- and InterRailer it was quite pricey. So I put on with a little loop way to Oslo and shortened my stay in Norway’s capital a little. The new plan included a night train ride from Trondheim to Oslo and from there to Bergen without any delay. After one night in Bergen I wanted to take the night train back to Oslo to continue my trip as originally planned. I didn’t consider taking the night train between Oslo and Bergen twice at all. After all, taking the train on one of the world’s most scenic rail routes was another highlight during my trip. And, actually, I wanted to see the fantastic landscape that attracts almost uncountable numbers of tourists each year. Furthermore, I had quite a respectable night train density in Norway, anyway. After the night train from Fauske to Bodø had been so incredibly comfortable the night train to Oslo didn’t have that many conveniences. For me it was exciting and irritating that it was really dark during that night. I hadn’t seen something like this for some months, yet. We could even see the moon and the stars. The rail route between Trondheim and Oslo is supposed to be very scenic, as well – with mountains and lakes. It was just that we couldn’t see that much, though. And yet, every now and then we could see lakes which lay there, black and mysterious, in which the moonlight reflected. Thin veils of fleecy clouds settled around the mountain sides’ which looked like silver lines in the pale moonlight. Although we couldn’t see much of the landscape outside it was still a very impressing view we had there. When we arrived in Oslo the next morning we hadn’t slept much and felt totally knocked out. It was time to say goodbye there. Anabel wanted to stay in Oslo and had decided to take the next night train to Bergen. She left the train station to see Oslo and I went to catch the train to Bergen. Many people had already told me how scenic and beautiful the landscape along this rail route should be. So I was pretty excited and curious about the things that were to come. Would this rail route still have it in itself to impress me after the fantastic eye-opening landscape of Lofoten Islands? Yes, it could. I wasn’t disappointed at all. While the weather was rather summerlike in Oslo it became worse as closer the train came to Bergen. Clouds moved in quickly and it started to rain. That made the landscape look even more dramatic. It’s hard to catch that atmosphere with a camera and it’s even harder to describe. In the train I met some very nice and interesting persons: A US-American family, whose daughter had studied German language and culture and theatre studies. She had written her final thesis in German in Berlin. In that way she earned herself holidays with her parents in Norway. And since her dad has Norwegian ancestors it was a nice opportunity to visit the forefathers’ native country. It was this family who introduced a Norwegian speciality to me: Lefsa, sort of a potato pancake. There I tried the version with cinnamon filling, but the types of fillings are indeed various. Anyway, it’s really tasty. Furthermore, there was this married couple from Düsseldorf. They were already on their second surprise trip. That means: He had planned everything up to the least detail and she only knows approximately what to pack into the suitcase(s). The American family had left together with most of the other tourists in Myrdal. So we were almost alone in the train and had a very nice and interesting talk until we reached Bergen. Her big dream was to travel around in Scotland. That’s why she didn’t want to be in Norway that much. When we had arrived in Bergen her husband took me aside and told me about his further travel plans. After a few days in Bergen they would take the ferry to Newcastle and finally start the desired roundtrip through Scotland from there. I find that really nice and hope that everything worked out for the two of them as it was planned.

After I had returned to the city from the Archipelago, had checked into the youth hostel and reclaimed my baggage the day could finally begin. I took the tram and went from the youth hostel to Kungsportsbrun. From there the Paddan boat tours were supposed to start. To join in such a tour seemed to be a good opportunity to see a lot of interesting things. At the Paddan information desk I got to know that the next tour would start within the next minutes, and I even got a student discount. That made the decision very easy. I bought a ticket and went on board. A few more passengers joined and then the tour started. Within the next fifty minutes the boat passed all sights in Göteborg one can see from the water, for example the Feskekörka or the “Lipstick”. It was especially amusing to pass the low bridges during the tour. Several times it was necessary to lower one’s head or to sit down on the floor. That made this Paddan tour quite an adventure and when the boat arrived at the original landing stage after almost one hour I knew that I wouldn’t regret my decision to have joined.

Tough, I had to work through the many new impressions, first of all. To enjoy the places I saw from the boat perspective again I walked a part of the tour once more, strolled through Kungsparken and from there over the Göteborg’s big shopping street Kungsportavenyn. I had liked to see Scandinavia’s biggest amusement park, as well, although I didn’t have any intention to enter Liseberg. So I went there by tram and only took a picture of the big entrance gate. The neighbouring Universeum was much more interesting. It is some sort of scientific exploration centre with animals, imitated landscape of this planet and experimental workshops. For sure, it’s great for kids but also grown-ups never stop learning. It was interesting for me anyway. An entrance fee of 140 SEK, though, was a bit too much for me at that point. Moreover, one has to take really a lot of time to thoroughly discover that place which is filled up to overflowing with exciting things. It was already late afternoon and there wasn’t enough time at all. So I limited my visit to the Universeum Shop and promised myself that I would definitely see the Universeum during my next visit in Göteborg. I want to visit that city again on all events. That much was more than clear to me already there. From the very first moment I felt comfortable in Göteborg. It has really captivated me. When I had been planning my trip Göteborg was just one of many places I wanted to visit. Quietly and unnoticed, though, this city had emerged as a wonderful highlight. I would even say that Göteborg is now one of my favourite places in Sweden. After all, I was still a bit disappointed that I couldn’t see the Universeum during that stay. I left that place and randomly took a tram. Just for fun I wanted to make a detour to the city’s periphery before I went back to the city centre and took the tram to the youth hostel. It was already evening. My 24h ticket wouldn’t be valid for very long. When I cam into my room I noticed that I wasn’t the only one in the room in the youth hostel, anymore. Two girls from Trondheim had moved in. They told me that they had come to Göteborg for one week just for fun. They were not so eager to talk to somebody and I spent time on my own things again. I wanted to prepare a nice dinner for myself and bought something for that purpose in the supermarket around the corner. When I returned I reserved the washing machine and the tumble dryer. There I had to learn that both were out of work. Kindly the girl at the reception allowed me to use the hostel’s internal washing facilities. I went to the kitchen and met a man there with a little girl – daddy and his daughter, was my assumption. In the following talk I got to know that I was right. They had spent their holidays with befriended families in a house at a lake in Sweden and were really enthusiastic about it. Now they were actually on their way home but had decided to make a stop in Göteborg. Since the group consisted mainly of kids they wanted to do child-friendly things and thought of Liseberg. I doubted that this would be the right thing for the youngest in the group. So I suggested Universeum. There they would find something for everyone. The daddy thought that it sounded nice. I lent him a brochure and when I returned it to me later he said: “Hey, that is really great! We’re gonna go there tomorrow”. I was happy that they liked it and wished them great fun. Meanwhile my supper was ready and I took it out to eat in the youth hostel’s garden. Later, when I did my laundry and rushed from my room to the laundry room and back I had to see that the last bed in the room was taken, too. I started to talk with the young women who seemed to be a little older than me. After a few sentences we got to know that both of us were from Germany. So we could continue our talk in German. Katrin, I don’t remember from where, was a teacher and 32 years old. I thought that she was much younger. She had kept well! We could get a long really well right from the beginning and started a very long, nice and interesting talk which we would have wanted to continue the next day. Unfortunately, we had totally different plans. She wanted to go to Norway; I wanted to leave Göteborg very early the next day to go to Stockholm. We exchanged email addresses and kept on talking when we were already lying in bed. Our Norwegian room mates went to see what Göteborg’s night life had to offer. So they weren’t there. Early the next morning, only a few hours before my alarm clock was going to ring, they came back in a good mood and slightly drunk, but they tried hard not to make so much noise. I found that very polite. At 6am, my alarm clock definitely and rudely woke my up. I got up and packed my stuff. Katrin had also woken up. We said goodbye and hugged each other. For our trips we wished each other all the best and promised to stay in contact. I left the room as quietly as possible. On the way to the train station I felt a bit nostalgic that I already had to leave Göteborg. I went further on to Stockholm, where I wanted to meet my good friend and flatmate Marika.

It was the last night train I got on. On the one hand I had been looking forward to taking that train for a very long time; on the other hand I didn’t want do leave Scandinavia. Accordingly, mixed feelings accompanied me during the last day of my journey. In the morning I had checked out in the youth hostel Malmø City and had put my baggage into the baggage room. At first, I was strolling aimlessly through the city where I had spent more or less four days. I went into some of the stores and I found big Swedish dictionaries with a lot of words and phrases in Åhléns City, which were reduced to a ridiculously low price. I wanted to keep that in mind in order to buy such a dictionary shortly before my departure. Around noon I decided to have a last Café Latte in the Espresso House. There I discovered a quite interesting looking leaflet with the big heading: “Malmø har fått ett nytt Galeri”. That made me curious and I had a closer look at the paper. It said that a gallery was a natural meeting point for everybody interested in art and that art was an individual experience for which no one needs special prerequisites. That corresponded very well with my unexclusive understanding of art. It was no question that I wanted to see this gallery. I drank up my Café Latte and walked to Stora Nygatan 79. The gallery was really inconsiderably situated in a house’s basement. A staircase led downstairs from the pavement to the door. When I stepped in I saw a long room with white walls and laminate floor. On the left hand side a little bar with a coffee machine, on the right sight a suit with a table and armchairs. On the opposite side of the entrance was another door leading to another, smaller room. On the walls were various works of art, mostly photographs and a very interesting carpet. The owner of the gallery, Mikael – what I got to know later –, was talking on the phone when I entered the gallery. I gave him a sign that he shouldn’t mind me and had a first look at the premises. A little later Mikael finished his telephone call and showed me his life’s dream which had become true. Before he had a well-paid job at IKEA but that wasn’t really satisfying for him. He packed in his job and made his hobby a profession or even mission. Over and over he spoke about his art-for-everybody attitude and showed me David Lynch’s photographs and Calle Henzel’s very interesting carpets. After almost one hour I left the gallery with a whole lot of new impressions which were so substantially different from the things I had seen and experienced during my trip until then. Lost in my thoughts I strolled a bit through the city and had a little picnic close to the canal in Slottsparken where I watched the passing paddleboats. When I had seen enough paddleboat captains with their crew I walked back to the city centre. There I could finally buy the incredibly cheap 38.000-words dictionary. It was already late afternoon and I decided to go back to the youth hostel to get my baggage out of the baggage room. Once more I made use of the youth hostels free internet and checked my emails. I had to discover that Stephan, the Bergen-Oslo night train travel mate had sent me an email. And as luck would have it, he and his friends took the night train to Berlin exactly the same day, too. I took my baggage and left the hostel to meet my fate. There was still plenty of time to kill until the train would leave. So I kept myself busy writing diary, reading and asking myself where and if at all I would meet my Dutch pickups again. Not expecting anything bad I looked a bit around in the train station and suddenly I saw somebody approaching me. The face was somehow familiar to me but I couldn’t really associate anybody with it. Then, finally, it became clear. It was Stephan. In the night train Bergen-Oslo I had only seen his side. That’s why his front look wasn’t really familiar to me. Totally “naturally” I had met Stephan and his “Naturals” again. We talked a little about the things we had experienced on our trips in the meantime. And soon it was time to go to the platform where the train was supposed to be. I had already earlier heard that it would be a Swedish train – with a German conductor, who was the first person we met on the platform where he checked our tickets. Yes, of course, I remembered this check-in procedure on the platform from Stockholm. The conductor explained where the car with our compartments would be situated in German, which I immediately translated for Stephan. When this was done we boarded the train – accidentally, we were in the same car – and took our beds. I met a young Australian girl in my compartment and a little later we started to talk. When the train started to move we stood at a window in the corridor and exchanged our travel experiences. I learned that she lived in Canberra and lived there with her Swedish parents. Her grandparents were still living in Sweden on an island in Southern Archipelago Göteborg which reminded me of lonely life on an island once more. She had spent four weeks there with her grandparents, but in general, she was on a big trip across Europe. Later an US-American couple joined us. That put me under some pressure – native speakers amongst themselves… I could handle the situation quite well, though, and we discussed how we should cross the Baltic Sea with this train first of all. We would not cross the Öresund Bridge to get to Germany via Denmark. That much we had already got to know. Actually, we’d even heard that the train would board a ferry in Trelleborg. Though, we thought that this was a rumour. A train on a ferry? Excuse me, but how could this be possible? On the other hand this seemed to be the only possibility. Soon we reached the harbour Trelleborg where the train stopped and our question was answered. Meanwhile we had started talking about other interesting things, for example formidable Scandinavian specialities. Of particular interest was the Finnish mämmi, sort of a sweet malt porridge, and the Swedish surströmming salted fermented Baltic herring. That sounds quite spooky, but mämmi is actually not that bad. I’ve never tried surströmming. All I know is that it’s quite a stinky thing. Our conversation about the Swedish stinky fish was suddenly interrupted when the train started moving again and was boarding the ferry. We were in the front of the very first carriage. There we had the ultimate first-class places and watched a bit intimidated what was happening to us. It was really a crazy and weird feeling when the train moved into the big Baltic ferry. Steely rumbling and the increasing constriction let us look outside very respectfully. Even though this was all quite scary we were in a good mood and lost ourselves in black humour. We were definitely confined and there was no getting out anymore.

It was allowed to stay and sleep in the train during the crossing. Normally this is forbidden for safety reasons. I didn’t think of staying in the train for one minute. This was all so exciting for me: the last night train, the end of my journey, this train on the ferry, getting home after four months in Scandinavia. I had to get out, wanted to stand on the deck and look back until I wouldn’t see anything anymore. On the way to the passenger decks I met Stephan again and we went together to the ferry self-service restaurant. He invited me and his Naturals to have a beer. I couldn’t reject. A ferry-beer is certainly an affair of honour. That had already been a nice tradition during the InterRail trip 2005 with Anne. Equipped with a bottle of Rostocker beer I went outside. The ferry had just departed and I really thought of jumping off to get back. Stephan found me right in this sentimental moment and kept me from getting even more sentimental. Otherwise I would have got lost in the thoughts of the past three wonderful weeks. Again, we started talking as if there wouldn’t be a tomorrow. It became a bit cool outside and we went inside where I invited Stephan for a coffee – a service in return, as to say. This night train ride was almost about to become another one without sleep, but when the ferry arrived in Sassnitz and we could board the train again, we decided to sleep a while. Stephan disappeared into his compartment. For some time I remained standing at the opened window in the corridor. I couldn’t really believe that I was back in my native country. When the train was driving across the island Rügen and thereby approaching Berlin I also decided to lie down and sleep a bit. Yet, there wasn’t so much time left. It was already after 3am, and the train was supposed to arrive in Berlin 6:01. I managed to fall into some kind of swooning deep sleep for two hours. I woke up around 5:45 and noticed that Berlin was already really close. The weather was incredibly bad, as usually when I arrive in Berlin. It was cold and rainy, but I didn’t care. The conductor went through the car and woke up the other passengers by knocking at the compartments’ doors and asking: “Guten Morgen! Kaffee, jemand?” (Good morning! Coffee, somebody?). When the central station was not more than a stone through away it was time to pack up my things. The train stopped and we had arrived in Berlin. I was one of the first passengers who got out and I was nearly overwhelmed. During my trip I had met people who told me how much they liked Germany and Berlin. That had never been so clear to me. After all, it is my home country. What a lot of people might consider wonderful is totally normal for me. It’s not different for me when I’m in Finland, Sweden, Norway or God knows where. Everything is great there for me, as well. That morning, though, I arrived with all the other travellers, mostly backpackers, in Berlin and for a short moment I was allowed to see my home country and its capital with a stranger’s eyes. Berlin is not that bad. Everything appears to be friendly and welcoming on the first sight. Later, when I communicated in the public in German, I realised that it wasn’t me anymore who is the foreigner in a foreign country. This was my home… On the platform I met Stephan. It was time to say definitely goodbye. For sure, we wouldn’t meet again by chance. We hugged each other, promised to stay in contact and wished each other a good trip. Then we parted to follow our own ways. That meant for me to buy a ticket for the train that would take me home and to organise something for breakfast. I had one our, so there was no need to hurry. In between I met the Australian girl again. We also said goodbye and wished each other all the best for the upcoming travel days. Strictly speaking, my journey ended in Berlin. My ScanRail ticket wasn’t valid anymore and there was nothing new to discover. I had already seen the new Berlin Central Station and I had also taken the train from Berlin to my hometown many times. Like in a state of trance, caused by tiredness and confusion, I got in the train that took me home – home home – at 7am. Almost four hours later and changing trains three times I arrived in my little home village in East Saxony. My mum picked up from the train station with our family’s mascot, dog Bonny. After 6311km from Jyväskylä (Finland) to Uhyst/Spree (Germany) I arrived in the place were I had grown up. My great trip came to an end – the great trip with so many incredible and amazing encounters. What these things I experienced during those three weeks mean to me can I understand but now.

So this it was – the great trip through Scandinavia, which turned out to be a great experience. In summer 2005 I travelled across Europe with Anne. Back then, we thought that this would be a once-in-a-lifetime experience, which we would later tell our children and grandchildren about. We will do so, for sure. But it was even more. It’s probably the beginning of a whole new view on travelling. You cannot and never get to know places and countries really well as traveller. This is probably only possible if you live there for a time. As backpacker, rucksack tourist, railer or whatever the experiences are more intense, though. One is closer to what really makes the difference about a place or a country; one is closer to the locals when travelling together with them in a train. And it’s exactly this what is the key to this way of travelling for me and maybe many others. When I look back now I’m overcome by a mixture of joy, sentimentality and satisfaction. Somehow I can’t believe that all this was true. It’s rather like a dream that feels confusingly real. Sure, I could have done so many things differently: Another route, other stops, another season of the year, a travel companion and so on and so forth, but the way I had planned and finally done it feels absolutely right for me. The rout I had chosen led me to many wonderful, and sometimes not so wonderful, places. Coming back is most probable. There were places along my way, which I could only just see from the train. Some amazed me and made me curious. I would like to go back there and have a closer look at them. Maybe even during another time of the year than in summer. Although, the light, Nordic summer nights are something I really appreciate and love now. It was also those that made this trip occasionally a real eye-opener. I’m doubting, though, that all these impressions would have been that intense, if I had travelled with a travel companion. It’s great to travel with a person you know and like, but you’re rather fixed on each other. I could decide independently what I wanted to see or do and where and when I wanted to do this. And I could really enjoy it. On the other hand, I was always on my own and had no one to talk to about the nice things I experienced. This is also the charm of travelling alone, though. This date with my solitude had me learn a lot – about other people and also about myself. Therefore this trip was some sort of self-discovery, as well. The absolutely unbeatable advantage of travelling alone is the fact that you meet and get to know a lot of people. Very few are terrible, some are strange, but most are absolutely adorable: Anabel, Stephan, Csilla, Katrin. I have to thank all of you for the wonderful hours I was allowed to spend with you. Meeting you and talking to you was really the icing on my ScanRail cake. The trip would have been just half as great without you guys. But I have to thank all the nameless persons I met, too­: the Australian girl in Narvik and in the night train to Berlin, the guy from Berlin in Kabelvåg, the railer from Serbia, the girl from Hongkong, just to name a few. Unfortunately, you sometimes forget to ask the name of somebody, but you may never forget that you these people. All of them, with and without a name, made this trip, which was so loaded with fantastic, breathtakingly beautiful places, what it was in the end: a great, personal adventure. Every year hundreds of backpackers are travelling in Scandinavia. All experience wonderful things. So I’m not an exception, my trip is nothing special. During these three weeks, though, I tried to see this world with my heart. And it was not my hand but my heart that led the pen during writing. This isn’t a great piece of literature, but maybe it’s fun reading for someone or someone gets motivated or even inspired. Then the “quest” would be more than fulfilled. This world is just wonderful, and we should discover and protect it. Travelling helps us broaden our minds and teaches us to be tolerant towards foreign persons and things. Travelling makes us grow personally, and sometimes even dreams come true. Scandinavia on rails is such a dream for me that came true, and I’m afraid that my whimsical alarm clock wakes me up rudely. Sometimes I turn to these memories about this great time and I just want to turn back time. But this is not possible – and this is good. I know what this trip gave to me. And when the time is right I will pack my backpack and set out again…

What you keep in mind are neither the many people you meet nor the wonderful places you visit. It’s how these people and places touch you…

Suzi Tungsten

P.S.: In great gratitude and with all love of this world, to Hans Woop, to my grandpa Hans Pitschula († 1994) and to my grandma Ruth Pitschula († 1993)