The EXhilaration Adventure, real Hiking Mountain Trail, Kebnekaise Mountain Station continue… July 18, 2008
Posted by dodo in : Air Tickets, Beach Resorts, Cars, Flight Schedule, Hostels, Hotels, Lodges, Motel, Restaurant, Sweden, Switzerland, Wellington , 5commentsIt was soon clear that the man had no idea what he was doing. He shouldn’t have been in the mountains. I asked him where his gear was. “Over there,” he said, pointing to the corner of the room. There was a tiny rucksack, a summer sleeping bag and a pair of Wellington boots. “Is that all?” I asked.
“Shit man, I didn‘t expect this. I came straight down the path from Abisko. It was beautiful the first two days. Which way did you come?”
“Over the mountains through Lapporten.”
“What was it like up there?”
“Cold and too much snow.”
“Where are you going?” (more…)
The EXhilaration Adventure, real Hiking Mountain Trail, Kebnekaise Mountain Station July 18, 2008
Posted by dodo in : Accommodation, Air Tickets, Airlines, Art Gallery, Beach Resorts, Cars, Coliseum, Dolphinarium, Hostels, Hotels, Lodges, Motel, Museum, Norway, Oceanarium, Planetarium, Restaurant, Round The World, Sweden, Trip , 4commentsThree of us got off the train at Abisko in the mountains of Swedish Lapland: two men and a dog. I sat on my rucksack while the dog and his friend strolled over to the station building. When they were out of sight I stood up, glanced at my map and took a compass reading. It’s difficult to look confident in the mountains, so I always check map readings when there’s no-one to question my judgment.
I was going to walk south through Lapporten to Kebnekaise — Sweden’s highest mountain, 7,000 feet above sea level — and on to Nikkaluotka, a Lapp settlement by a beautiful ribbon lake. If the weather was good, it would take about a week. If not, I told myself that ten days would do. (more…)
In Pursuit of the American Dream July 18, 2008
Posted by dodo in : Motel, Museum, Paris, Tour, USA , 5comments“Kis mah grits,” said the waitress, conversing with a regular customer as she served me up a 99-cent breakfast in the diner at Orlando Airport.
I was frequently to hear Americans exhorted to kiss each other’s fried porridge, in a parody that seems to be the last legacy of the Southerner who occupied the White House in the dark days before Ronald Reagan. Kissing grits has supplanted the fashion for kissing ass, which is surprising in an upwardly mobile society.
An hour later I was drinking (what else?) Florida orange-juice beside a motel swimming pool while the early-morning sun gently warmed away jet-lag. The lady on a nearby lounger ordered the waiter to put a slug in her juice. (more…)
