Afternoon Sunset near Sommarøy

With every breath in, I became part of my surroundings.  Energy coming in rushes, the sun and the setting playing with my soul.  I stretched out my arms, closed my eyes, turned my face to the sky and let out a yell.  A smile spread as wide as ever, that filled my heart with joy.  "Coowee!"  No one answered it, though it echoed around the waters and islands before me.  

Sometimes the most therapeutic thing can be standing on the top of a rock or a hill, looking down on the world below.  It can help to stretch out your arms and make a noise of sorts.  Imagine you are flying, but I don't reccommend actually launching off - unless you are a practised hangglider.  In which case you probably know more of what I am talking about.  Ignore the fact that it may seem an egotistical gesture, embrace your ego and beat your chest like an ape.  I mean, who cares really? 

<3

A Little House in the Arctic

We rented a car for 800 NOK from a man with a Norwegian Forest Cat called Kvitfjell.

"Hvad betyder Kvitfjell?"  I asked him.  It was his favourite place to "stå på ski."  Taking that in for a moment, it would mean my cat would be called Pt Addis Beach, or Chocolate Cake.  That last one isn't actually true, but it was the first thing that popped into my head when I asked "What is my favourite thing to cook?"  My subconscious sending a message - it has been too long since I made a chocolate cake, I hear my subconscious scolding my conscious.  I think the last one I made was for Melbourne Cup day some years ago, a gluten free one that had coffee in it so it sent me spinning round and round until I fell over and fell asleep in Edinburgh Gardens.  Must have been the spinning, surely not the champagne...

We rented a car for 800 NOK from a man with a Norwegian Forest Cat called Kvitfjell.  A hairy thing it was, I wanted to bundle it up and steal out of the office before he could say "du!"  Instead I paid my share and we drove off to Sommarøy, stopping every 100 metres to look at another mountain, and another fjord, and more snow.  The boy stayed in the car, unphased.  Only 8.  Though he said he was sick, do boys have hormonal imbalances like girls that send them mopey or wild?

We parked the car at a Coop supermarket and ate in the cafeteria attached, meant for the local fishermen when they dock and come in for a snack.  We ate Swedish crackerbread with Norwegian Mackeral spread in a tube and mayonnaise.  "Mums!"  (means 'yum' in Norwegian)

The sun was setting quickly, so I headed out ahead of them.  Slip sliding down the road - everywhere iced over.  And then I stood.  Stopped.  And forgot everything else, everything around me, everything before that moment and everything to come.

The air was cold and sharp in my throat, lips tingling and cheeks burning, eyes watering and cold trying to sneak in wherever it could to prod at my body for a reaction.  No reaction it got.  Nothing.  Everything was quiet.  I didn't hear the others bustling back around the car, or yelling out to each other as they slipped down the slope to the dock where I was standing.  I didn't notice anything.  I just breathed in, breathed out, breathed in, breathed out...  The pink in the sky was reflected in the water.  Everything was made out of sugar, toffee and syrup.  Glistening in the light.  A painting with such depth and beauty I wanted to dive in, just to be a part of it.  Breath in, breath out, breath in...

Slowly I came to, they had joined me by my side and were taking selfies and wanted me to take their photo.  I started to set up my tripod, looking at them when they spoke but only half there, always glancing out at the scene before me.  Glancing out at a little house across the water, at the land around it, at the horizon, at the streaks across the sky...  Each time they spoke to me it were as if they were shaking my shoulders - I wasn't in the present moment with them, I was somewhere else.  I had been taken by the moment.

Another breath in, another breath out.  The magic faded away a little and I came to.

*

 

A Tunnel Through A Mountain. Norway

A Tunnel Through A Mountain.  Norway.

They drove over mountains, and under mountains.  Around bends, through valleys and across fjords.  Passed towns covered in snow, forests covered in snow, and caravans covered in snow.  There were some moose, but not many.  The ice on the road made for difficult driving.  Occasionally they swerved about a bit, tires losing grip for a moment, but she knew how to handle it.  

"How cold is it outside?"

She took her eyes off the road and looked down at the passenger seat, where the voice had come from.  'Um'ing she squinted and checked the gage.  "Says -15."  She turned up the heating a little, some sort of instinct - because it was warm enough inside the car.  She looked down to her right again.  The small mouth that had spoken, broke into a big smile.

"I like driving with you." 
"It's a long drive..."
"Doesn't matter.  I like driving with you."

She smiled to herself, eyes back on the road.  I like driving with you too, she thought, stealing a glance at the girl sitting next to her.  Taking it in.  The sweet face and inquisitive eyes, the small hands holding out a map and the concentration it took as she tried to decifer what each marking meant.  

Mostly they drove in silence.  If they saw something out of the ordinary, one of them would make a comment and a small amount of talking would follow.  But mostly silence.  It was comforting, that they could just sit in it.  The silence.  Enjoying the trip, knowing what they had left behind, and not knowing where they were headed.  Well, they knew where, she thought, they just didn't know where.  If that makes sense.  She chuckled to herself.  

"Looks like the mountain road is closed..."  Again, the strong little eyes looked up at her.  Knowledge hungry, they were.  "We'll be going through a looong tunnel."  The girl pulled the seat belt looser so she could cross her legs under her, sitting up a little better to see out.  The map fallen to the floor.

A long tunnel. Her thoughts began to wander again.  Where they were going, and what they were leaving behind...

~

Story Copyrighted to MIEMIA.

Winding Roads in the Arctic

Many of us live in fear.  When I spoke of travelling through Norway, most reactions were negative - out of fear.  "The roads are windy, you'll get car sick."  "The roads aren't as well kept as in Australia."  "The roads are boring, just mountains and valleys the whole way."  "It's far."  So on and so fourth.  

I had probably hitched about 1500 kilometres by this point, true - driving around bend after bend, highway becoming unkept country roads, pot holes and ice, tunnels through mountains, very slow points - but at no point was I ever bored or disappointed by what I saw.  After 1500 kilometres, I wasn't as in awe as I was at the start of the journey, so I started to nod off occasionally, or think about things.  I had almost reached Tromsø (my destination)... 

And then I saw this.

Of course it is healthy to be safe, but sometimes it's also good to take risks.  To live a little.  Norway took my breath away time and time again, reminding me that the earth has many little nooks and crannies that you can fall upon if you're lucky, or search for if you like.  Be open.  Let life be what it is.  Take a journey or a turn you don't fully understand, and you might be pleasantly surprised.

Let life be what it is.

x

Glad i Grong

We never had a dog while I was growing up.  I didn't really know what it meant to have a dog until last year.  Up until then I would say that I've been afraid of them.  I never quite trusted that they wouldn't just turn one day and see my hand as a potential meal instead of just something to lick.  Over the past couple of years I got to know an old Staffy.  Her name was Buffy - because she was strong, not because she was a vampire, I think.  At first when I would visit, I would run into the kitchen and jump up onto the kitchen bench to get my legs away from her.  Though as time passed, she got too old and sick to bowl me over, and I also learnt how to deal with an excited dog running at you.  More and more I have noticed them around, in houses, at farms, etc.  After staying in Dovre, I got stuck on the top of Dovre Fjælled (mountain) for a while.  An old lady picked me up in Dombås and dropped me off at the top.  I was a little worried.  I could hear wolves howling in the distance and there were 60 kilometres to the next town.  No one was stopping for me.  Who would want to stop on the top of a mountain on a highspeed highway?  It was pretty hilarious.  Wasn't too cold, luckily.  Only -5 I think.  Anyway, I decided to wave my arms at the next person passing, as if something was wrong - that way they would have to stop, and I'd get a lift at least to the bottom of the mountain.  The next car did stop, though she was a young Norwegian girl who laughed at my performance and said she would have stopped anyway.  Her name was Idynne, and she had a sleeping puppy in her boot.  She told me about growing up hunting with her father, and receiving a gun for her twelfth or thirteenth birthday.  She also told me about how they use dogs to scare the birds from the undergrowth in the forests, which is what she hoped to train her own puppy to do.  And then, also the simple pleasure of going camping or staying in a hut on the mountain by yourself, with your dog by your side.  The idea of "sitting by the fire and listening to it crackle, while your dog lies next to you..."  Robyn Davidson, Australian explorer who walked accross from Alice Springs to Perth in the 70's, might say she couldn't have done it without her dog.  It gave her a sense of safety, because she could rely on him to react if there was danger nearby, and it gave her a friend when she was wandering thousands of kilometres from anything and anyone.  In Grong, I stayed in an old farmhouse that had been in the family of my host for generations.  They had a dog.  A white labrador, pictured above.  A big, goofy, but calm dog that said a hello and then relaxed around the house.  Again, I got this feeling.  Something I have never understood before - that a dog really is a friend.  Comfort and company.

A Bridge at Dusk in Steinkjer

A busy town bustling.  Cars driving in and out, back and fourth, round and about.  Sun setting on a cold evening, the water settled for a moment.  A train bridge reflected in water.  I stood for a moment, admiring the colour and shape.  Arriving at 4pm I walked to one end and back again, struggling to get a lift and make a move on the kilometres to go.  Nerves prodding and panic bubbling, I stood on a bridge and just looked.  I liked the triangles.  People peered at me from in their cars, shamelessly stared at me as they walked by.  The sky was slightly purple, and the red bridge seemed to disappear into the dull industrial background.  A pity, really.  Finally a van pulled up, a happy Pole.  He drove me to the next Statoil.  Ah, Statoil.

...

Reflection. Oslo.

He stands, looking at himself.  No expression.  No emotion.  He faces his reflection bearing the brunt of his courage.  He is unable to pull away.  He stays and stares.  Punishing accusation.  His armour begins to fall apart, piece by piece.  Emotions seep in.  Disgust.  Distaste.  Despair.  Expression remains intact, ‘show yourself to no one.’  He stands, looking at himself as others pass him by.  No expression.  No emotion.  His body slumps, with anger.  Eyes sear eyes with a rising insanity.  “Who are you?”  He silently demands, “Who?”

Taking Leaps, Climbing Mountains

Korgen, somewhere up the E6 Motorway

Korgen, somewhere up the E6 Motorway

When you throw yourself out into the world it can feel like you're throwing yourself to the sharks, but there comes a point when you get past the fear and a thrilling sense of freedom takes over.  Filling you through to your very soul.

Many lessons learnt on a magical trip wandering foreign hills in Norway.  Returning to "reality" has proven to be an up hill battle, making it is easy to forget the sense of freedom I felt just over a week ago.  Here in Copenhagen, I am learning something new everyday, and being thrown into challenges faced in the place that I thought was the easy one.

I threw away security and took chances, hitch hiking from Oslo to Tromsø.  A similar distance of Melbourne to Brisbane.  May I add, hitch hiking during a time of limited daylight and extreme minus temperatures, making myself even my dependent on those kind enough to pick me up.  For the risks I took, the rewards were even bigger.

Rather than running for safety of the buses and train stations I passed along the way, I found myself in incredible situations that I would never else have come across.  As though soaring over this landscape, I am standing at the top of a mountain with the sharp wind picking at my uncovered skin on my cheeks and hands.  Pain shooting through my muslces as I struggled to capture what I was seeing on camera, but knowing I would never quite be able to capture quite how free I was feeling in that moment.

This photo is taken in the area of Korgen, Norway.  Somewhere up the E6 motorway.

Away from anything comfortable and safe, I felt a child like, naive excitement start the butterflies tickling in my stomach.  Happy to be me, happy to know that following my heart could lead to good things.  Happy to know that I can put my heart and soul into my passions, and just let life happen.  Believe.  Believe in myself.

Just, treat people how you want to be treated in return, and similarly, put into life the passion and effort that match what you want in return.

Life's alright.  The world is an incredible place.  That I know for sure.

X

A Horizon

As the clock ticked over midnight, from the 31st of December to the 1st of January, I didn't know where this year would take me.  I suppose no one really ever does.  As the sun disappeared behind the hills and below the horizon, it sent this spectacular light across the water sweeping over the seemingly endless line of beach.  I often find myself pausing, losing myself into the horizon.  Looking out, into what is a perfect representation of life.  The unknown.  The future - our choices or our destiny - and either way the certainty that it will come.  Time passes quickly and life just happens.  We are all just trying to make the best of what we've got.  Now, two months on, I find myself wandering the hills of foreign lands, far far away, wondering what it's all about... 

This photo is taken on New Years Eve at 90 Mile Beach, near Seaspray in Victoria, Australia.  

Winki Pop, a small morning.

Sometimes it is easy to forget the force of nature we are playing with.  Whether it be fire, water, wind or soil, we like to believe we're in control.  Really, we're all surviving day by day at the Earth's whim. 

When we surf, we are playing in the waves like little children.  Dipping our toes into something so much bigger than we could ever be.  Flirting with waves that could crush and swallow us whole.  Addicted to the feeling that it could all be over in a second.  Feeling so insignificant and powerless, that you feel free.

The sun shone bright over the Great Ocean Road this morning.  Someone catches a wave at Winki Pop.

Paranoia

He passes through crowds unnoticed.  Thin, weathered bones held tense, hands ready to defend.  Shirt unwashed, wet with sweat on this hot summers day.  Summer.  The sun strikes down a spotlight, uncovering him from the shadows as he walks towards the station - his getaway, a safe haven where he slips unnoticed between those heading home.  His eyes dart to and fro, and notice me for a split second.  He wants to run, but his mind holds his muscles stiff and he continues on, bones creaking.

Flinders Street Station
Melbourne, Australia

Girls on Mobiles

Hair tucked neatly behind her ears.  Glasses loose, fallen slightly down her nose.  Eyes down, concentrating on her phone.  Face and jaw relaxed, her little light pink lips slightly open.  A cute girl with a group of friends touring in Melbourne only to concentrate on the world within their phones, rather than taking in the sunny city passing them by.  Her delicate, round, pretty face seems childish.  Child like.  Yet beauty rests in its innocence.

Australian Sun

Little specks bounce around in the air as the sun goes down.  Light catches on their wings and bodies; on spider webs in trees; and on the gumleaves. The air is warm, thick with the smell of gumtrees and ocean nearby.  And thick with the sounds of cicadas, and birds calling out as they swoop in to snap at little insects.  Waves crashing create a constant rumble faraway, reaching us through the ground.  I breathe in, my lungs fill with the sweet summer air.  I smile, watching the little insects dancing in the sun as the sun goes down.

The Australian sun burns in 15 minutes, but revitalises the mind, body and soul.  After a month in the dark haze of Copenhagen, the sun has brought a fresh breath of air to my brain.  Here, bugs fly in the soft light during dusk.  Difficult to focus on, though a little more dreamy this way.

Blonde on the Bridge

Spotted on Dronning Louise Bro.

Sometimes I don't notice a person I've captured until after I'm back at home, looking through the day's "catch".  And sometimes, just like here, I stare at the photo for some time, wondering who they are, what they're like.  The photos gives them something so powerful, I wonder if it was just that moment or angle.  To me she looks nonhuman.  Not human.  Her coat gives her a strange shape, her yellow scarf continues on from her blonde hair, framing her face as if she were an Egyptian ruler.  Egyptian beast.  I refrain from the term goddess because she looks fiercer than that.  But then, in the detail, I notice her hands.  Perhaps hiding in their sleeves to warm her fingers and not hiding out of self-consciousness, but no matter the reason it shows a weakness.  Her stride and face holds power, though the cold still chills her.  I cannot imagine her smiling.

Wulff & Konstali

Popular cafe in Copenhagen, Denmark.

At Wulff and Konstali the vibe is nothing but "hyggeligt". Plenty of mums leave their babies and prams out the front while they enjoy coffee or freshly squeezed juices, and delicious food!  This place is mum friendly so watch out if you don't like the little people that cry, but other than that it's a hip place to go.  No gluten free or wheat free bread, sadly (they have their own bakery), but plenty to choose from for "normal people".  If you're in Copenhagen, go and see what the fuss is all about!

Dronning Louise Bro

Spotted on Thursday afternoon.  The sun disappeared behind the buildings at 3.30pm.  This couple, nothing at the time yet taking a closer look... He is holding the cigarette of which she has just inhaled the smoke.  Did he hold it for her as she took a drag?  And their eyebrows, are somehow the defining feature for both of them.  Who said that some couples look alike...?

A Halo in Indreby

When the lakes freeze one weekend in the winter to come, and it may seem a lifetime away, we'll look forward to summer when the sun will shine in Copenhagen.  To summertime, when angels and halos will be just around the corner if you look close enough.  Summer time, when we'll look back and laugh about the time we walked across the lake and the ice started to crack.