So after calling those folks last night I took a little tiny nap, then woke at 4:30 to get on the bus to go to the airport. Goodbye pack-and-a half-a-day air, hello socialism and pristine beauty (this is what I have heard of Norway, at least).
So we waited in Heathrow for an hour or so, then boarded… The SAS airline people told me to get on first so that I could secure a place for my banjo. Wasn’t that nice? I was asleep before the plane took off. I woke up a few times during the flight to a ten-year-old first-time-flyer girl’s yelling about how “wicked” it was (flying). She couldn’t keep me up for long, though, and I pretty much stayed asleep until she was screaming, we were landing, and I thought we were all going to die. But we didn’t.
I looked out the window of the plane and thought that I would be happy to just start walking towards the woodsy hills out there… but I didn’t. But they looked quite nice. We caught the train at three, and headed north for six hours, to Trondheim. When we got there at nine I think the sun was still not set. I stayed up with some Norwegian students that I met (“Hey yooooou… meester guy with a guitar on his back!”) and it never seemed to get darker than dusky. They say that in Finnmark, the farthest North that you can go, the sun circles around the sky for four weeks in Summer without setting.
I am exhausted, and the comforter is amazing. The dusky sky doesn’t keep me up for long at all.