The weblog of a traveller

   Jul 26

The Westerlands

I went west. Life was peaceful there.

Crammed between staggering mountains, the sea way down there and more mountains so close you can throw a rock across the fjord, is an itty bitty cabin full of wonderful artefacts gathered by sailors in distant havens, truly impressive artwork created during long hours of hiding during the War, and colorful remains of the ’70s. Here I spent a week with crazier half, ¬†father-in-law whom he got it from, and little else. And time whizzled by.

We lived off the sea, having self-fished fish or crab every day, taking only what we needed and releasing the rest.¬†It’s all so steep, the boat must be put in the water using a crane.

If you ever do the ultimate tour of Norway, when you get to the really narrow strait, the one that makes you think “no way the boat will fit in there,” see the really big oak about half way through and tell it hello from me. He is a tough one. Being the tallest point in the area, he’s been struck by lightning more than once but he stays strong. I had a good laugh every time that ship passed, it is just so absurdely huge in that tiny passage.

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