Glacial erratics, Skarvassbu, Norway

Skarvassbu (the place/building at the water-pass), with rain scoring the window, true to the etymology of score, scar and shear from 'skar' to cut, incise, mark (and by extension a pass or glen).

We seem to have travelled back to the beginning of time in this desolate Norwegian landscape, passing through fragrant birch forests, berries in abundance, roaming reindeer and misty whispers of human-sacrifice. The cabin is all the more cosy for the bleakness outwith, but since we're in a moraine, pockets of snow underfoot despite the height of summer, the only contenders for glacial erratics are we two ramblers. What glacial flow and random ice-drifts have brought us to rest on the shores of this frozen world, 35 years after Atlantic College!  

The water is colder than any I've swam in yet, but then, with a latitude of nearly 70° N and year-round snow-melt, that's hardly surprising.

Back in Tromsø and Arctic Circle civilisation (oh yes, a world and a breed apart!), we thaw out under the civilising influence of Highland Park at Arne, Hilde and Sindre's, with Gillian Ramchand adding her Orcadian-Trinidadian ancestry to the mix. The two of us agreed that the Norwegian Vikings have grown soft and need to man up. A challenge I soon came to regret!