Arctic calling

People seem to like asking me whether I am excited on the eve of trips or events. I usually struggle with that question. My instinctive answer, "of course not, I am not twelve!" is one that I don't usually say out loud. Do people really get excited about things? I'm usually too busy with planning and organising and so on to be excited about it. I'll enjoy it when I am there, I say. Until then, I need to prepare. I enjoy the preparation a great deal too. The research, the organising and exploring the options are all part of the fun, isn't it? But that's not quite the same as being excited though, is it? Immediately before a trip, I am usually too stressed out with packing anyway for excitement to show its face. 

This time though is different. Without prompting, I have been declaring my excitement to almost anyone who had the misfortune to speak to me. I repeatedly drop words like "trip" and "packing", so they are compelled to ask me where I am going. 

North!

Leaving Malmö

I am heading north into the arctic* in search of snow and solitude. And I am excited! As the train pulled out of the station today, I had to resist clapping my hands. Same again when I first caught sight of snow lying on the ground beside the tracks. 

I first went to the Arctic almost exactly nine years ago in January 2012, and what an amazing trip that was. The first thing I said when I got home, in fact even before that, was that I will go back. Every year I tell myself, I'd head back north next winter. For one reason or another, I never did. Not in winter anyway. I have been back in the summer where I experienced the surreality of the midnight sun that people seem to be so excited about. I didn't get it. I found the constant daylight disorientating and disconcerting, annoying almost. I lost track of the time of day and my already erratic sleeping patterns went haywire. I went out hiking after dinner one day at about 10 pm and did not get back until past 2 am. My body and brain did not understand when I was supposed to sleep, so I didn't. That said, I have no great aversion to the summers up there, other than the soul sucking swarms of monster mosquitoes of course, but neither do I have any great desire to go up there in the summer... except to one day climb Kebnekaise or to do the Kungsleden. Winters though, are something else. There is something about it that calls me. 

This trip was a spontaneous one. In the year of the pandemic which grounded everyone across the world, travel had become something I longed for but no longer tried to plan. With borders closed, countries imposing quarantine requirements and a host of other restrictions, where is there to go? Trying to find the ideal combination of open borders, low numbers of Covid cases, flight availability and reasonable prices was a decidedly depressing experience so I gave up. People are going through a lot worse than me. If my biggest problem is not being able to feed my wanderlust, I can shut up and live with it. I resigned myself to keeping calm and carrying on until spring in hope that things would ease up a bit then. 

In one of many pre-Christmas video coffee (or wine) chats in December, I found myself recounting tales of my adventures in the north. And just like that, the flame was once again lit. I was filled with a longing that I am not sure I can find the words to explain. One part the draw of the landscape and light; one part the yearning for the sense of serenity that fills my soul out there. Two days later, the trip was booked. Three weeks later, here I am on a train hurtling north into the darkness and cold. Both of which there will be a lot of. Sunrise is at 10.12 tomorrow, sunset at 13:21; current temperature -14 degrees Celsius.   

First glimpse of snow

Travelling by train

The journey in this case is part of the destination. It has to be. I will be spending two days on the road... or erm, tracks, for the three days that I will be in Lappland. I do love train journeys. It has been a while since I have taken one of comparable length; most likely the last time I headed north! I am sure that unless I meet my untimely end, this won't be my last long train journey. I certainly hope there will be a much, much longer train journey in my future, one that would take me through comparable terrain.* There is something about train journeys that make me reflect and reminisce. Perhaps the odd sense of speed and leisure simultaneously, provides a good opportunity for contemplation. The landscape scurrying by somehow conjures up glimpses from the past. Of course, some of the memories awakened are not necessarily the warm fuzzy-feeling kind, which means I am also often melancholic on train journeys. Perhaps that it actually a good way to process such emotions. The natural excitement that I feel from the journey makes it easier to feel hopeful and move through any sadness.

Traveling in times of Covid

Domestic travel is not prohibited in Sweden, though we are advised against non-essential travel. Does this count as being essential for my mental health? I’d say yes but I’m quite sure that wasn’t what was meant with essential travel. The official advice goes on to say that any travel should be undertaken with as little contact with people as possible. This means avoid public transport if possible. Hmm... The lack of a car and valid driver's licence is a bit of an obstacle there. So I am on the train. They have blocked off a number of seats to ensure that there is sufficient distance between people who are not traveling together. In further effort to minimise contact with people, I have also booked an entire sleeper cabin for three for myself on the next leg. That way, I will not have to share that small space within anyone for the 12-13 hour overnight journey. This however means that the reasonably priced element of my travel planning has completely gone out the window. Not so small price to pay for being safe(r), but well worth it. 

Upon arrival, I will be shuttled to my "igloo", which is not really an igloo as it’s not made of snow and ice, but is igloo shaped. It’s by a now frozen lake and left to my own devises, more or less. I will get breakfast delivered every morning and have a few activities planned, so I will not be completely alone for the duration. If I understand correctly, there will be a forest to one side of my igloo and a lake on the other. The nearest town is 8 km away. I think I will have no problems social distancing. 

Snow!

Less than an hour on the train and the landscape is covered in snow. According to the weather forecast, snow is expected at home anyway over the next few days. So to embark on a trip to search for snow was perhaps unnecessary. But this is about more than that. While I still cannot find the words to explain it, I can say that the thought that I am heading into the snow and cold, warms my heart. The rapidly approaching dusk and darkness, and the anticipation of the long hours of darkness up north is explicably comforting.  

*Only just. I'll be about 4' within the Arctic Circle. 

**No prizes for guessing the Trans-Siberian railways

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The actual journey

As I write this, we are an hour away from Lima. Before the cloud cover took over, all I could see from the plane window was a sea of dark green forest beneath me, broken only by winding rivers. It has not quite dawned on me, that we will soon be in South America. I suppose we already, just 10,000m above her ground. Soon, we will be there. After all the planning, all the research and reading, I still cannot imagine what awaits us. 

The journey to get here has been long. And I don't mean the twelve hour flight. It was about a year ago when I started talking about this trip, reading and planning. The flights were booked about months ago. From there, our travel calendar slowly got filled. 

People always say that the planning is half the fun. And indeed it was. I spent many joyful moments staring at my purchased for purpose map. Selecting the places we wanted to go has not been easy. There is so much to do, even limiting ourselves to the three countries we chose right at the beginning: Peru, Bolivia and Chile. I say "we" but I must confess I was stubbornly persuasive on that point. When people say, "what? You're not going to Argentina or Brazil?", I want to point them to a map of South America. 

My starting point was Santiago, as in, I knew I wanted to go to Santiago. Whether we start or end there, was for me wurscht,irrelevant. It's still a bit too cold at this time of the year for Patagonia, so we had to settle for the northern part of Chile. By that time, we're close enough to Machu Picchu not to make a stop and so that very quickly because our boundaries: Peru to Chile. I wanted to travel overland as much as possible, so including Bolivia because a natural option because of the easy land crossings from Lake Titicaca to La Paz. 

The decision was made easier by my fixation for one of our legs to be a train journey. Inspired by Paul Theoreax, I remembered how much I love train journeys. Coming across the Andean Explorer journey from Cusco (where we would be for Machu Picchu anyway) to Puno (on Lake Titicaca), anchored a lot of our plans. The train journey was one of the first things we booked. And seeing as the train only goes every Wednesday, we had to plan everything else around it. It meant we had a week and a half to fill before the train and so we managed to fit in a short trip to the Amazon basin, something we had not anticipated we'd be able to do. 

Anyway, in that way, the travel calendar got filled. We still have most days of the last leg in Chile unplanned. We have a vague idea of what we'll do but nothing is booked.

Before that though, there were many other things that needed to be sorted out: visas, vaccinations. Oh, and not to forget the budget and the packing! 

Visas

Only one of us needed a visa for only one of the countries we are visiting, and that's me for Bolivia. Applying and getting the visa was everything but straight forward. It took months to clarify what was expected and the online form which had to be filled out wasn't the clearest either. The embassy advices applicants to contact the embassy to make sure that the information online is complete and correct or if additional documents is required before sending in originals by post. They said that would ensure that the application is processed faster. Fair enough, except it too them a few weeks to respond to me when I did. And considering that the online form is only valid 14 days from the date submitted, it meant I had to go through the whole process all over again. 

Then there was the business with the photo. They asked for a photo which was 3x3cm in size, and a digital copy of max 150 MB. The first photo of 150 MB I sent was "too small", and I was asked to please send another one that is "bigger". I never really understood what exactly she meant. Because I next sent another photo with the exact same specs and that was accepted. I also sent in an actual 3x3cm photo with the application by post. 3x3cm is really tiny. I have never known any embassy to require such a tiny photo. Even the people at the photo studio where I got the photos taken were surprised. But that was what was stated and confirmed to me on the phone, so fine. Being sceptical, I send it another regular passport-sized photo which I had as well. In the end, that's what they took and the tiny one was returned to me. 

Vaccinations 

We got a whole battery of vaccinations before the trip. There is a Vaccination Service in Sweden that is dedicated to well, providing vaccination services as the name suggests. So we made our way there after work one day to ask about what vaccinations we needed. I had read up in advance on what was required. I knew we needed a yellow fever vaccination because that was required to enter Bolivia. Other than that, everything else was optional. And the options were wide. After research, I had a better idea of what we would want but thought we should at least talk to the experts first before making a decision. 

After a short wait, we were sat before the nurse. It was all a bit overwhelming. We decided on about 6 vaccinations and they all had very specific instructions as to when they should be taken, number of doses and duration between doses and minimum or maximum duration before expeted exposure, etc., etc. And I must say, the nurse who attended to us was nothing short of exemplary. Professional and capable. She listened to our plans, looked up a few things on her risk profile for the different countries and before we knew it, we found ourselves walking out of there with a plaster on each arm and armed with a specific and detailed schedule of when we needed to be back for which other jabs, a prescription for oral vaccines and instructions for when and how they should be taken, and we needed to be back to pick up our prescription for malaria tablets! 

In the end, we got vaccinations for yellow fever, hepatitis A&B, typhoid, tetanus, cholera and malaria tablets. Not related to vaccinations, but I also got extra medication in case of asthma attacks at high altitude. 

Currency

I have become one of those travellers who never has local currency with me when I set off. I usually withdraw cash from an ATM when I am there and I assume that I can pay for most stuff with a card. Except when I went to Moscow, there I decided that I was going to spend only cash as far as possible. For their trip as well, I realised that we were going to have cash with us. There were places where we were told we would struggle to find an ATM, one of the towns we are going to, according to the guide books, has only 2 ATMs and they do not always work or have enough money in them. So we needed some cash. 

That was again a lesson for us. First we had to find out what the currency of the three countries are! And I still haven't got the hang of the different exchange rates and I have absolutely no clue what any amount of money can buy you. 

Anyway, we have now arrived and spent our first night in the hotel. So far it reminds me a lot of Asia. Everything is a bit chaotic, especially the traffic. Above ground power lines which we are not used to seeing anymore in Sweden, clothes hanging out on balconies and windows, and construction everywhere. 

The most notably thing for me though, is the air. It does not smell too bad, not like walking down Sukhumvit under the sky train boxing in the fumes of the traffic and the smells from the drains. But it is noticeably heavy and unclean. Still, we are on the coast. So I'm looking forward to getting to the sea!