Category: Norway

Hornsund

In the south eastern corner of Svalbard is the multifaceted Hornsund fjord. Considered by many to one of the more spectacular fjords in the archipelago it boasts numerous bays, mountains and glacial valleys. We arrived on a glorious sunny morning. Our boat group was near the end of the list so we had plenty of time for breakfast. Everyone is organised into small groups, approximately a boat full. The groups are called down in turn to the hull opening where we actually board the RHIBs. This keeps things moderately orderly and avoids queues. The order in which groups are called rotates each excursion, so sometimes you get off early and other times you have to wait.  Waiting, in this case, involved breakfast so I thought this was ideal. Meals are all served as a buffet. The food is very good. Possibly the best we have ever had on a cruise ship. As vegetarians, we feel that sometimes we get a bit of poor deal. This breakfast was lovely. The man cooked me a cheese and onion omelette which I had with a hash browns. Yogurt on the side with fresh fruit, seeds and nuts. A large cappuccino. Good start for the day.

The landing at Burgerbukta was pleasant. Terrific views of mountains and glaciers. We walked up a small slope to a viewpoint. On the way back down I spotted a seal in the water. Spent a while sneaking up on it to get a better photograph but it made sure I did not get too close. I also stood on a rock almost a meter from the edge of the shore. Much to my surprise, I did not get told off. Perhaps no-one spotted my reckless gymnastics.

In the afternoon we had a second landing, at Gnålodden. There is a large bird cliff here. Many seabirds were soaring and swooping overhead. Mostly kittiwakes and guillemots. Very noisy. We had a gentle walk and spotted a pair of young kittiwakes (I think) nesting on a ledge. Our evening excursion was into an inlet opposite the Gnålodden landing site. Here the Spitzbergen sailed in close to the calving edge of the glacier. A spectacular way to end the day.

By the following day we had left the Hornsund fjord and were heading north again ever closer to Longyearbyen. We landed at Calypsobyen, another failed coal mine. Decrepit huts and rusting metal are all that remain. These still count as historic relics though so strictly no touching.

In the afternoon we landed at Bamsebu and more relics of another way of life.  There were bones here. Great piles of bleached white bones from walrus and seal but mostly beluga whales. All left over from the hunting activities of yesteryear. The beluga would come into the shallows of the bay to feed and then get harpooned from a small rowing boat. Wooden winches on the beach were used to drag the bodies ashore for flensing. Even these bones, the rubbish from a way of life that thankfully died out decades ago, are relics and must be carefully sidestepped.

Our final day exploring Svalbard began at Trygghamna and the cliffs of Alkhornethosted. Reputedly home to 10,000 nesting pairs of seabirds. I can confirm that there were certainly a lot of them. We also saw a few reindeer here. Little Svalbard reindeer with thick woolly coats. The afternoon was spent boat cruising at Ymerbukta in front of the grumbling Esmarkbreen glacier. Up close to the glacier you could see some of the incredible complexity built by hundreds of years of snow being laid down to become ice. Though the odd crack, a cross section into a crevasse or an ice cave you could spot the deep, dark intense blue colour of ancient ice. Our guide assured me that the colour comes from refraction in the ice. Actually it comes from absorption, the same effect that makes the sky blue. It did not seem worth arguing the point at the time. Whatever it is caused by, it is spectacular in a rather eerie and menacing way.

We docked at Longyearbyen late in the evening. But before we got there, we sailed up past Barentsburg. The second largest settlement in Svalbard is Russian. A mining settlement established in the 1920s by the Dutch and then sold to the Russians. Svalbard is under Norwegian sovereignty but all signatories to the Svalvard Treaty of 1920 have equal rights over the exploitation of natural resources. Russia has continued mining operations there despite a few incidents such as a major underground fire in 2006. Since the invasion of Ukraine the situation has become increasingly fractious and delicate. Although Barentsburg is only 55 km from Longyearbyen there are no connecting roads and there is only very limited contact.  The Spitzbergen did not get very close to the town but we could clearly see the mine buildings, power stations and accommodation units. It all smacked of that soviet era efficiency and purposefulness. We did not see any people. No-one appeared to be walking outside at all.

Next morning, very early , we were bundled onto the plane and before lunch we were back in Oslo collecting the car on a 30°C sweltering summers day. We took a steady drive back to the ferry at Rotterdam over several days. This gave us time to call in on a few friends. The inimitable Lars and Inge are still going strong despite a few health scares. As we left they were surrounded by daughters and grandchildren in a very solid and endearing family scene. We also spent a lovely few hours with Silke and Carston who have a fantastic house on the island of Sylt. We missed Kai in a confusion of dates. Sorry – next time, Kai. At the port border control we had a slightly odd discussion with the passport man who could not understand how we had been in Norway but outside of Schengen. I showed him the stamps in my passport and wondered why I was having to explain how the Schengen border works to a Schengen border official. Eventually he just muttered something and waved us on. A border guard that does not know his borders. Eventually we were on the ferry to Hull toasting the end of another trip and preparing for the dull thud of dropping into reality.

Bråasvellbreenbook

In the night, when it did not get dark, we returned from the ice edge to the islands of Svalbard. Specifically we arrived on the southern side of Chermsideøya. A rough little island that is only visited occasionally. Diane opted to stay near the landing site. I followed the flags across some rocks and a patch of snow to look at some geoglyphs. The walk was interesting, the geoglyphs less so. To me, they looked like some kids had been laying out rocks to spell their names. However, I was assured that these were historic markings from Arctic expeditions back to the 19th century thus making them historic artifacts. Walking back, I went the wrong way round a boulder and got told off by one of the expedition team whose job was to make sure irresponsible tourists did not stray from the marked path. Fortunately, nothing bad happened and I survived unscathed.

In the afternoon we landed at Isflakbukta on the island of of Phippsøya. I cannot remember any of these names, in fact I cannot even pronounce most of them, but I can copy them from the expedition journal. I hope you are impressed. The weather had come in a bit. A low, sullen cloud settled damply on the hills around us. Here we were shown the most northerly cabin in Svalbard although we were not allowed anywhere near it. We were also encouraged to pick up rubbish. There was a lot of debris washed up on the beach. As far as I could tell it was bits of broken fishing gear – ropes, nets, floats, plastic sacs. I suggested to one of the expedition team that maybe the fishermen should be encouraged to clean up their own rubbish but she was not impressed with this idea. In all, some 90 kg of flotsam was collected and added to the Hx environmental credentials.

Next morning, near the island of Kvitøya, we spotted polar bears. Several of them wandering along the shore. The Svalbard Environmental Protection Act prohibits unnecessary disturbance, attraction, or pursuit of polar bears. It also specifies that ships should keep a minimum distance of 500 m. Even for something as enormous as a polar bear, this is still quite a distance for photography. Pictures tend to end up being a white dot in a grey landscape. There is however, apparently, a glorious exception to the distance rule. This is when a bear swims out to look at your ship. I would guess they are attracted by the smell of food. I am also guessing that manoeuvring a vessel with a bear in close proximity potentially endangers it. So, we just sit there, bobbing around, while the bear comes and inspects us. From the safety of the gunwale I can lean over with my big, news lens and look the bear in its eye. Brilliant. I took a lot of pictures. Here are just a few of them.

We continued sailing down the east coast of Nordaustlandet until, in the evening, we encountered the Bråsvellbreen. This is a massive glacier with about 45 km of ice cliffs calving into the sea. Reminded me of Antarctica and the Brunt ice shelf. I mentioned this to one of the crew but they disagreed. I realised later that their experience of Antarctica was limited to the norther tip of the peninsular. This is as far as most tourist ships ever get. So they had never seen an ice shelf. Whatever, it was all quite spectacular and we spent a very pleasant evening taking in the views, taking and few photographs and taking the occasional glass of wine.

Next day there was another ugly of walruses.  A great big blubbery pile of them on the beach. We could get a bit closer this time. We landed at Kapp Lee on the northeastern tip of Edgeøya island. There are some old trappers huts here and we had an excellent walk up a small hill to look at birds. There were a few reindeer around that were keeping their distance. There was also a fox. I did not see it but someone showed me a picture later. Arriving at the ugly of walruses, we kept a respectful distance, aided by a line of barrier flags that had been set up. Occasionally one would lift its head, snort and dribble snot. Very briefly we spotted a couple of walruses having some sort of disagreement in the water. I do like walruses but I cannot help thinking that the save the walrus campaign might be more successful if they smartened themselves up a bit.

Kinnvika

In the evening, we sailed north to the little island of Moffin. Just north of the 80th parallel, this island hosts a large flock of walruses. Other collective noun for walruses are: herd, huddle, pod and ugly. An ugly of walruses. They can live for 30 years and weigh over 1.5 tonne. Large tusks make them formidable adversaries. They are predated by polar bears and orca but generally just the young or injured walruses. As is often the case in the Arctic, their biggest enemy is humans. Today there are around 5,000 walruses around Svalbard but in the previous two centuries they were nearly hunted into extinction. Blubber and ivory are the major products.

Commercial walrus harvesting is now outlawed, although Chukchi, Yupik and Inuit peoples are permitted to kill small numbers towards the end of each summer. I was thrilled to finally see some walrus. The Spitsbergen kept a good distance from the uglies. The word uglies here could refer to several groups of walruses or it might just hint at the ugliness of the walrus. They lack the cuteness of the polar bear or the sleekness of an orca. They dribble a lot and roll around in the muck. Distance and poor light made photography, even with the new camera, difficult. The sun never set the whole time we were up there. It did however dip towards the horizon in the evening.

Next morning we woke at Kinnvika, a former research station in the high Arctic landscape of Nordaustlandet. The station built during the International Geophysical Year (IGY) 1957-59. This was also when the first base at Halley Bay, Antarctica was built. Halley base is still going strong. I worked there in 1988/9. Kinnvike sadly, has fallen into disrepair. There are still several huts scattered around. One of them I recognised as being built for auroral observations. A rusting amphibious vehicle is parked outside. This looked like it would have been great fun in its day. The base has been used a couple of times since IGY but essentially it is just a historical relic.

Bog in a bog

Leaving Kinnvike, we spotted a fin whale. Second largest cetacean after the blue whale. Up to 80 tonnes. Like other large whales the population was devastated in the post war whaling boom and they are still only very slowly recovering. A rare privilege to spot one.

It is a common misconception that most whales were killed during the romantic age of whaling. Wooden boats and heroic sailors of the 18th and 19th century. This sentimentalised view comes from the literature, art, and popular culture of the age. The exoticism of faraway voyages and the epic battles with giant whales held great popular appeal. The reality is that most whales were killed, after WW2, using explosive harpoons fired from fast motorboats. They were processed in massive factory ships that could handle hundreds of whales at a time. This was a valuable contribution to the post-war economy of many countries. Whaling finally abated when petroleum products became viable alternatives. At the same time, the whaling industry, with the steep decline of global whale populations, became uneconomic.

In the afternoon we reached the bird cliffs of Alkefjellet. From a distance these look like normal cliffs but as we got closer, in the RHIBs, we could see the birds. Thousands of them. Mostly Brünnich’s guillemots with a few other types to add colour. The air was full of birds, the cliffs were covered in nesting birds and the smell was, well, distinctive. Nesting, in this case, means perching on impossibly small ledges and using any lower perching birds as a toilet. The guillemots are also known as thick-billed murres. Their chicks have a harsh start in life. Once big enough, they jump off the cliff and try to make it to the water where a parent is waiting. The dilemma, as I saw it, is that if you nest lower down, the chick has an easier route to the water but you need to put up with all the birds higher up. The rocks, in places are completely white with bird guano. Nesting higher up means the chick bounces more on the way down and so has less chance of arriving intact. Sailing close to the cliffs we found it advisable to wear a hat. The birds took very little notice of us. Even so, we were careful not to get too close. Back on the ship we settled down for the evening while the captain set a course due north.

By the morning, we were considerably further north and surrounded by mist. Lunchtime the mist began to lift as we arrived at the ice edge. At just over 82°N this was the southern limit of the Arctic ice cap. The ice was mostly brash. Loose pieces of broken pack ice that stretched to the horizon. An ice ship could have ploughed straight into this but the Spitsbergen is not built for the rough stuff so we just pottered around the edge. Even so, this was a record, the farthest north ever reached by a ship in the HX fleet.

The north pole was just 550 miles away. We spent the rest of the at the ice edge. There were a few sea birds, mostly guillemots. A few seals. And a terrific view of ice. Ice everywhere.

Gravensodden

First nature landing of the trip. We arrived at Magdalenafjorden in the morning. One of the more spectacular fjords of Svalbard, it is surrounded by rough snowy peaks and glaciers emerging from dark rocky valleys. Gravensodden is a site of significant historical interest. Whaling operations began here back in the 16th century which is also when the first graves were dug. Since then, many people, whales and walrus have died here. The people, over a hundred of them, got buried while the animals were boiled down in large blubber ovens. The grave site is fenced off and out of bounds. In the past, tourists opened the coffins that had been pushed up to the surface by the action of permafrost. They took bones as souvenirs and even made campfires from the wooden coffin remains. This sort of thing is frowned upon now. Tales from the past talk of many animal remains strewn around although we saw little of this. We did enjoy a short wander around while taking in the scenery and in the far distance spotted a handful of walruses.

Back on board the Spitsbergen, we headed to our next landing site, Smeerenburg, but discovered a polar bear had got there first. This meant no landing. Too dangerous. Polar bears look cute from a distance but they are the apex predator. Powerful and occasionally unpredictable. We watched from a distance and from the safety of the ship. The bear was quite difficult to spot. Using a smartphone as a camera your bear would be just a couple of pixels big. A white dot in the middle of large mountainside. Fortunately, before this trip started, I had upgraded my camera equipment. Started off by selling everything. Over the years I had accumulated a varied selection of lenses and camera bodies. I only took a selection of these travelling but even so it felt like lugging around a lot of gear. So, the whole lot went on ebay and I started again. Began with a Canon EOS R5 MkII. Mirrorless cameras offer a lot of advantages over the traditional SLR. Smaller, lighter, faster. Less moving parts. Battery life is a bit of an issue but manageable if you prepare. The combination of mirrorless with latest generation of lenses is powerful and lightweight. Sensors are now more sensitive. Combined with image stabilisation this means you can use smaller aperture lenses. I went for a 200-800mm for distance work, 70-200mm for general purpose and 24-70mm for wide angles. Three lenses, one body, a handful of batteries and a monopod. So far, this is all working out extremely well. In fact, I am even considering dropping the monopod because the low light performance is so good.

Meanwhile, back at the bear, it was still in the far distance, whatever lens you used. He walked around but never came any closer. The ship is not allowed to go closer. Another, much smaller, ship had arrived with more spectators with long lenses. They also kept a good distance. We watched for the best part of an hour and then spotted that the bear had picked up some sort of large, white plastic bag. I found this a bit sad. The bear was playing with discarded rubbish. We left him to it and sailed round the corner into Fuglefjorden. Another fabulously pretty fjord with glaciers calving directly into the water. Pleasant weather meant a chance for the kayakers to get out for a paddle. Neither Diane nor I are especially interested in kayaking albeit for different reasons. I have, from time to time, kayaked in a range of places but never really found it particularly engaging. Diane is afraid that she would fall in the icy water and die. We watched the paddlers and pondered the glaciers for a while before wandering off to find a cocktail to end the day.

Next day we landed at Jotunkjeldene where there is a hot spring. This was interesting but not as exciting as it might have been because we were not allowed anywhere near it. The water is heated by a geothermal hot spot deep underground. As is seeps out, colourful minerals, carbonates, are deposited in a slowly growing dome. We had a nice walk and found a lot of flowers. Very short growing season here so all the flowers everywhere come out at the same time. I was impressed with how hardy they are. Eight months of freezing cold and snow then they pop up at the first chance to bask in the sun.

In the afternoon we were a little further down Liefdefjorden at an old trapper’s hut called Texas Bar. Nobody could offer a good explanation for the name. It is not in Texas or from Texas and it is definitely not a bar. It is however one of the few names in the area that I can confidently pronounce. Technically it is a historic relic although it could easily be mistaken for an old shed. Apparently some hardy souls still use it in the winter after travelling by snow mobile from Longyearbyen. We walked a short way up the hillside. As far as we were allowed. Then we hung around for a while enjoying the views and trying to spot Beluga whales in the shallows. Somebody claimed they saw an arctic fox – but I am not sure I believed them.

Ny-Ålesund

It was late afternoon when we landed at Longyearbyen. We were, for all intents, a complete ship’s complement of guests. About 80 of us. Once all the luggage had been retrieved, we got herded into a couple of coaches and driven into town. Our hotel was the Funken Lodge. I was slightly disappointed to find nothing funky about it although it is a pleasant hotel. In the evening, we reacquainted ourselves with the town taking care to stay inside the limits. It is actually an offence to leave Longyearbyen without a flare gun and rifle in case of polar bears. We found some geese trotting around with small, fluffy goslings. They seemed harmless.

Next day we had a tour of Longyearbyen. This intrigued me because Longyearbyen is not very big. You can walk right round it in 20 minutes. What actually happened was that we were taken by coach out to a clutch of buildings not far from where we met our sledge dogs last year. Here, in a cosy little hut with a blazing fire we were given a short talk along with coffee and pancakes. I slipped out early to visit the dogs tied up outside and to photograph a rather indignant Arctic Tern. Later we were taken to the museum and eventually to our ship, the MS Spitsbergen.

The ship is a converted car ferry. Just under 100m long. She was refitted by Hurtigruten and went into service in 2016. Although the vessel can carry over 300 passengers, most trips involve fewer. In our case there were about 80 people. MS Spitsbergen is a comfortable ship. Our cabin was compact and well equipped. Meals are served at a buffet restaurant. The large bar at the front of the ship is also used for lectures and presentations. One of the old car decks now holds half a dozen RHIBS for shore landings and cruising.

We spent the evening exploring the ship and the bar. Next morning we woke to find the ship tied up at Ny-Ålesund. The settlement was established to mine coal. This never worked very well. Neither did an attempt to quarry marble. Not recognised officially as a town by the Norwegian Government, it is the northernmost functional civilian settlement in the world. Ny-Ålesund has an all-year permanent population of 30 to 35, with the summer population reaching 114. Most people there are involved in research. Eighteen research institutions from eleven countries have a more or less permanent presence.

It is also the place from where Amundsen and Umberto attempted to reach the North Pole. They used an airship and flew over the pole to Alaska. The discovery of the North Pole is a complex story but this is regarded by some as the first successful expedition to the North Pole. The airship was moored using a 30m steel tower. It is still there.

We wandered around for a while. I got the odd glimpse of some interesting looking science. Naturally, being tourists, we were not allowed anywhere near any of them. In the far distance we could see two large vertically orientated parabolic radio dishes. These are a very-long-baseline interferometer. Part of a global network of devices used to precisely fix the position of the earth in space, monitor its orbit and monitor satellites. We looked at the Zepplin tower, an abandoned mine train and found another bust of Amundsen. The weather started to close in so headed back to the ship.

Miniatur Wunderland

We are going back to Svalbard. Last year we had a brilliant land-based week there doing dog sledding and snowmobiles. This time we were going to sail right around the archipelago with HX (formerly known as Hurtigruten Expeditions) on the converted ferry boat, the MS Spitzbergen.

First, we needed to get to Oslo. We chose to drive. Partly because I liked the idea of a short road trip in the newly repaired Range Rover. Also to visit a few friends along the way. The friends all turned out to be unavailable, so we went to Miniatur Wunderland instead. A converted warehouse in Hamburg is home to what Guinness World Records describes as the world’s largest model railway system. Apparently one of the most popular and visited sights in Germany. 1,230 digitally controlled trains with 12,000+ wagons. 5,280 houses, more than 11,800 vehicles, 52 airplanes and around 290,000 figures.

It is all quite remarkable. The entire train set spans several rooms and two buildings. The scenes are all interconnected. Here and there are glass panels set into the floor where you can see trains travelling between the different areas. Every 15 minutes or so the room lights fade and the models go into night mode. Tiny little lights, thousands of them, switch on everywhere. The first few rooms are areas around Hamburg and then things get progressively ambitious. The airport features planes taking off and landing. Austria has working cable cars. There is real water, with tides, in the North Sea. Antarctica obviously has penguins as well as a detailed model of the wreck of Shackleton’s ship, the Endurance. Elsewhere we could see scenes of Peru and the altiplano being created.

There are numerous scenarios being acted out. Some sort of criminal heist on a bridge. Several buildings on fire. Racing fire trucks. A car crash. A petrol station sign displaying, electronically, real fuel prices. Cars and trucks run on the roads. A model of the Monaca F1 racetrack features a live race. An enormous amount of electronics and computers must be used to control everything.

A sense of humour pervades all the model scenes. I did not expect this in Hamburg. Looking carefully, you can spot kangaroos in unlikely places. The odd dinosaur. Quite a lot of penguins. One of which was jumping in a bouncy castle. There is a crashed spaceship in the mountains and a motorised toilet in Monaco.

We spent about three hours there by which time it was starting to feel a bit stuffy and claustrophobic. Probably a wonderful place for spreading Covid. It was however interesting and quite rewarding – the more time you spent studying the detail, the more you could spot. In some ways Miniature Wunderland, is a testament to what happens if a gang of nerdy types have too much time on their hands. On the other hand, it a great demonstration of just how far you can go with a model train set.

Leaving Hamburg, we drove north to Denmark where we stumbled across sand sculptures in the town of Søndervig. Advertised as “more than just sandcastles”. This is an annual event where artists from around the world create elaborate sand art. I think they must then do something to stabilise the sand. When we arrived, it was drizzling but the sand was not being washed away. The theme for this year was the history of Greenland. The kingdom of Denmark includes Greenland – a fact which has received considerable attention lately since Trump suggested that the US could purchase it. I suspect Denmark is actively trying to draw attention to this.

We chose a beautiful scenic route up the west coast of Denmark. The rain and mist unfortunately made it look like just about everywhere else when it is raining and foggy. Arriving at Hirtshals, we took the ferry to Larvik. About three hours of sailing in the fog and rain. Eventually we arrived at our hotel close to the airport.

Next day we found Oslo airport to be remarkably busy. We arrived at lunchtime and there were long queues at the security check. An hour later, the security woman was complaining at me. We get told not to put electronics and batteries in hold luggage. It goes in the hand luggage and gets checked on a conveyor belt through an x-ray machine. My luggage typically contains a lot of camera gear. Usually this goes straight through the machine. At least nine out of ten trips. In Oslo, the very stern woman declared that it all needed to be unpacked and sent back through the machine separately. I was trying to hold my trousers up at the time because I had been instructed to remove my belt before walking though the machine with a green light. The woman complained that I was wasting her time by putting my belt on before emptying the case. I was not keen on dealing with a grumpy security person with my trousers half down. Thus, we arrived at the interesting situation where she was visibly annoyed with me for wasting her time while I was similarly annoyed at her for wasting my time. I have long since learned that expressing annoyance, or any emotion really, at border officials is to invite extra delays, searching and worse. My face was in the fixed, vacuous smile saved for such occasions. She complained that she had a protracted line of people to check. I thought that maybe if they did not insist on unpacking everything that it might go a bit quicker. And I maintained the smile. Eventually, once all my camera parts had been round at least twice, I got to repack the bag. This caused further annoyance because I needed to use the counter space that she might otherwise have employed for being grumpy at another passenger. Finally packed and ready to leave I was stopped by another border official who wanted to see my passport. It was the sole occupant of my breast pocket. I handed it over and he carefully checked to make sure I was not smuggling anything inside it. Even gave it a little shake. The smile almost slipped.

Four hours later we arrived at the very tiny airport in Longyearbyen, Svalbard. It was still a bit cloudy, so we saw little during the aircraft’s approach. Fortunately, it began to clear just as we landed and I could spot tantalising splashes of snow on the hillsides.

Skidoos and a mine

We thoroughly enjoyed our time sledging with the dogs but so far as practical travelling is concerned, dog sleds are a relic of another age. These days, if you want to get around in snowy places then a snowmobile, or ski-doo, is the tool of choice. Longyearbyn is stuffed to bursting with them. Back when I worked in Antarctica, the snowmobiles were quite basic. The manual pull-cord made them energetic to start, exhausting at times. They were awkward to steer, slow, noisy and uncomfortable. All this with the great smell of two stroke oil. The modern machine has a powerful four-stroke engine with an electric starter, full suspension, soft seats and heated handlebars. The sitting position and technology have some similarities to a motorbike but otherwise there is surprisingly little in the comparison. Riding a motorbike requires a level of precision and balance. The snow mobile however, just launches off across the snow bouncing and skittering around while heading in only the general direction that you point it. None the less this is great fun. You can easily reach speeds of 50 km/h or more which feels much faster and can be remarkably exhilarating in a sort of hanging on to a wild rampaging beast sort of way.

Our first trip out was north to the top of some cliffs overlooking Tempelfjorden. We each had our own snowmobile and were part of a group of ten riders. The day began with a briefing and introduction to the machines. We got togged up in warm, one-piece suits, mitts and a helmet before walking down a short slope to where the snowmobiles were all ready for us. The group leader was towing a small sledge with safety equipment. He we also equipped with a rifle and a flare gun in case of polar bears. We never got to see any bears on Svalbard but we were regularly assured that there are plenty around. Travelling single file, we set off along some very dirty and well used snow up the main valley. After about fifteen minutes we took a left and headed up into the mountains. Soon we had left all traces of civilisation behind. Just us, the snow, the mountains and the odd reindeer. Over the course of a couple of hours we followed a series of linked valleys until eventually emerging at the top of the cliffs. The view was spectacular. A wide-open stretch of sea with mountains at the far side and a glacier in the distance. Coffee and biscuits appeared from the survival sledge and we spent a good twenty minutes just taking in the scenery and watching a few sea birds. The journey back was uneventful but still great fun. Everyone was getting a bit more comfortable on the snowmobiles so we could pick up the pace a bit.

The next day we went down a mine. Svalbard was a very quiet place for just a handful of trappers and whalers until the start of the 20th century. Coal was discovered and the mining companies moved in. For while the archipelago was all about mining. Some of the best quality coal in world could be mined here. Mostly found in horizontal seams that were accessed by drift mines cut straight into the valley walls. Today all but one of the Norwegian mines are closed and the last of the Russian mines has almost stopped production. Tourism is the main industry now so quite reasonably, one of the old mines has been turned into a museum. This is not the sort of museum with glass cased displays and little information cards, it is a mine where they stopped working a few years ago. The passages have been made safe, or at least safer, but otherwise things are pretty much as they were on the day production stopped. It is quite dirty inside. We were given overalls to wear and headtorches, so the small group soon started to look like miners. After looking around the workshops and the topside coal handling facilities, we were led down one of the main passages. The coal seam was about two feet thick. From the access passage, the miners would dig into this with coal cutting machines creating a narrow crawl way which was supported by multiple props jacked into the roof. Then they would cut another segment of the seam next to it and then another. Imagine trying to remove the cream layer from the centre of a cake by cutting successive pencil shaped pieces out and working your way across the cake. By the fourth cut they would need to start removing the props from the original cut otherwise they would run out of props. This was the dangerous part because the roof would eventually collapse once enough props were removed. The trick was to not be there when this happened. Apparently, the skilled miners could listen to noise the mountain made as they took the props out and tell from this when it was becoming unsafe. I crawled into one of these seams, hand and knees for about 100m, to get a feel for what it was like. I left with a whole new level of respect for the bravery of miners. And with much coal dust firmly embedded under my finger nails and many other places.

On our last day we took another, longer, trip on snow mobiles. Different company but the basics, a briefing, clothing and the machines, were similar. One major difference, when we set off, was the light was very flat. When the sky is completely clouded over there are no shadows and it can become difficult to judge the lie of the snow-covered land. It all just looks white and a bit featureless. These conditions can be tricky skiing and on a snowmobile because it is hard to anticipate how the land is sloping and changing. We set off a lot faster than the previous trip and I found I had to really concentrate. Diane had chosen to ride pillion with me and this made balancing a little more difficult. For the first hour I think all I did was focus on the snow mobile in front of me, watching to see the shape of the hills and the valleys. Later, as the sun started to break through, it became much easier and far less disconcerting.

We drove eastwards for a good couple of hours before dropping down into a wide valley. At first, I thought this might be a frozen lake. It looked like one, but fact was just a flat and safe valley bottom. Across at the far side of the valley we followed another small valley before emerging at the coast by a hunter’s lodge. Over coffee and biscuits, we were told tales of the trapper that lived there for most of his life along with his wife. The route back involved a short stop at a gully which was fun to climb up and slide back down. We also went up to the top of hill for some lovely views.

Getting up at 4am next day for the flight was not much fun. At Tromsø , everyone needed to leave the plane, with their luggage. We then went through security and passport control to re-enter Schengen before getting back onto the same plane, in the same seats, with the same luggage. I found someone had taken the overhead space that my luggage had previously occupied. Somehow this seemed rather rude. Back in Oslo we collected the car and over the next few days made our way back to the UK.

Dogs

We had signed up for a three-day dog trip. Next morning, we were standing outside the Coal Miners Cabin, again, waiting to be picked up. Marcel, our guide, met us in a rather battered van then we collected the two other couples doing the trip. There are only a handful of hotels in Longyearbyen and it seems to be normal that excursions include hotel transfers. A couple of miles outside of town we arrived at the dog kennels. The dogs were already keen and excited. Each dog has its own kennel and is chained up so that it cannot quite get to any of the dogs around it. They jumped up and barked a lot. Small when compared to the Greenlandic dogs we met a few months ago. Maybe 25 kg max. They are a cross between several breeds including Greenlandic and Serbian Huskies. Somewhat to my surprise, they were very friendly to humans. Sledge dogs are not pets, they are work dogs and can sometimes be a bit aggressive. These dogs, however, were clearly well acclimatised to being handled.

First job was to get changed into warm padded overalls and insulated boots. Then we had a short briefing about dogs and sledges. Then we were shown how to harness the dogs. The main thing is to keep hold of the dog. They are so excited that if you let one slip it will run off. It will come back eventually but only once it has run round the other dogs, started a few fights and generally caused mischief. Best to hang on to them. Diane and I had our own team of six dogs. Each had its place in front of the sledge. The harness fits around the dog’s shoulders so you must help them step into it. Then there is webbing to help even out the load and fit comfortably across the back. From the front of the sledge there is a long gangline, the cable that all the dogs are attached to. A tugline connects the rear of the dog harness to the gangline. This is what takes the load when the dogs are running. A neckline is attached from the dog’s collar to the gangline. This does not take and load but helps keeps the dog organised.

In much less than an hour we were all ready to go. Marcel set off with his team. We were next. Diane sat on the sledge and I stood on the back to control the brake. One of the helpers released the rope at the back of the sledge and we were off. The only control I had was the brake. A claw like affair at the rear of the sledge that you variously stand on or even jump on to control the speed. The dogs simply followed Marcel’s sledge. I did not really have any control over that.

We started off easy. A flat, wide trail that led up a shallow valley and back down the other side. In the thirty minutes it took to do this the dogs settled down a bit, we settled down a bit, everything started to get a bit easier. Then we turned eastwards and set off for a cabin somewhere in the mountains. Both of us started to get into the rhythm of dog sledding, which is really rather lovely. It is very quiet compared to snowmobile. The dogs trot along happily. They really are happy; it is easy to tell that they just love pulling the sledge. It is all they want to do. Even ten minutes or so Marcel would stop to give the dogs a breather and make sure everyone was keeping up. I had to stop our sledge before our dogs got to Marcel’s dogs. Sometimes this would mean really jumping hard on the brake. Once stopped, I deployed the snowhook. This is an anchor to hold the dog team back when the musher decides to stop. It is like a parking break for the dog team — although somewhat less reliable. Looks and works like a ship’s anchor. Theoretically, the harder the team pulls on the snowhook the more the hook digs into the ground. In reality, the team may occasionally pull hard enough that the snowhook will pop free.

A couple of hours into the trip and we were starting to settle into dog sledging. The dogs trot along. It is not very fast although you would struggle to keep up by running. Feels like a nice pace for enjoying the surroundings, spotting a few reindeer and thinking about the explorers of old. Every 15 or 20 minutes we would have a short break. One of us would always have to stay with the sledge and keep a foot on the brake. If the dogs managed to run of with the sledge they could quite possibly go for many miles. They don’t care if the musher is on board, they just want to run with the sledge. Marcel would always set off first. Immediately I had to jump hard on the brake. My dogs would see the lead team leaving and want to be straight off after them. Then I had to reach down and pull up the snowhook. The dogs are ready for this. They are keen to go. They can sense as soon as you reach down and start pulling hard again. Keeping the brake hard on, I stow the snowhook just below the handlebars and then we are properly ready to go. In keeping with tradition, I would shout “mush” at the dogs when I released the brake. This was a bit superfluous; the dogs knew the moment the brake came off and were already pulling hard.

After four remarkably enjoyable hours travelling up a broad, open valley we rounded a corner and spotted the cabin. Diane and I had no idea what to expect and were pleasantly surprised. From a distance it looked modern and comfortable. First, we had to park the dogs. Marcel had tied up his sledge when we arrived. He grabbed our lead dogs and then tied the rear of the sledge off to a large wooden post. Lines were already laid out with a place for each dog so Diane and I could unhook them from the sledge and tie them up for the night. The dogs sleep directly on the snow. They are well used to this and seemed thoroughly comfortable. Dogs sorted we went to explore the cabin.

It was basic. No running water. Heating from a wood pellet stove and small generator powering the lights. Each couple had their own bedroom. The rooms were very snug and had a curtain for a door. Diane and I shared a bed that looked, to me, to be small for a single bed. Fortunately, no-one was put off by this and we all sat round the table for a late lunch. Food was a packet of freeze-dried something. I had a Thai curry which, when I had the patience to let it rehydrate properly, was not too bad. We even had some wine. It came from a box and tasted a little rough but nobody minded. We could sit out on the terrace, enjoy the sunshine, enjoy the view and reflect on the day.

Once the dogs had rested for a good hour, we fed them. It is important to give them this resting time before eating. Also, in the morning, they needed an hour after breakfast before they could start running. Same applies to all dogs. Mixing feeding with exercise can cause twisted gut and other ailments. Food for these dogs was high protein kibble with water from melted snow. Looked awful but the dogs loved it and gobbled it down like it was the best food ever. Then they simply curled up in the snow and went to sleep.

Our evening meal was bags of frozen Elk stew. Marcel and his assistant, Rebecca, defrosted this in a large pan of boiling water. Each person got a bag of hot stew, a bowl and a spoon. Diane and I are vegetarian and we each got a bag of vegetable stew. This was ok but I had to remind Diane that we had not come for the food. The rest of the evening was given over to playing cards, talking and reading. The day was as bright as it had been in the morning but come 10pm we retired to bed and I discovered that I was really quite tired after a day of mushing.

Next morning, I went downstairs to make some coffee. Fortunately, I found some ground coffee and a cafetière. I don’t mind basic food but instant coffee would be a step too far. I was so pleased that I made Diane a cup of tea to have in bed. As the coffee slowly did its morning magic, I was also pleased that no-one was complaining about my snoring. Seems there were a few other snorers there so nobody wanted to start pointing fingers. First job, after a second cup of coffee, was to feed the dogs. Same kibble as last night. They wolfed it down and then settled down again. After a night in the snow they each had a comfortable depression that they could curl up in. Our breakfast was something dried in a packet again. One option was dried egg and bacon. Nobody went for that. I opted for muesli with strawberry washed down with more strong coffee.

Day two. The plan was to head out in a big loop and come back to the cabin. Here is how to set off on a dog sledge. First make sure that the sledge is securely tied to the large wood post. Lay out the gangline. Fetch the first lead dog, fit his harness and attach the tugline. Leave Diane to hold the lead dog. Fetch dog number two, fit his harness and attach next to the lead dog. Connect the neckline between the two dogs. Now Diane needs to be firmly braced and holding the lead dogs while I fetch, harness and attach the remaining four dogs. Dog number six cannot contain his excitement, so he starts fighting with number five. I break them up but this only lasts a few seconds. We are nearly ready, so I take my place at the back of the sledge and stand on the brake. Loosen the knot on the wooden post and take a turn round it so that I can hold the sledge. Marcel has set off, so I signal Diane and she runs round the sledge and jumps on. The dogs try and follow her which adds to the confusion a bit. I let slip the rope, shout “mush” and we are off. Fights and other distractions completely forgotten the dogs are now set on chasing Marcel’s dogs down. After ten minutes things start to settle down a bit and by twenty minutes we are into a nice steady trot. Dog number five still has the odd nip at number six.

We head east off into the arctic wilderness. This really is a brilliant way to travel and feels like a perfectly natural fit to the environment. This time we have brought a few snacks, some biscuits to nibble on the way and a flask of water. The weather is enormously better than when we first arrived. Sunshine and blue skies. It is not cold. Probably hovering a little below freezing but the padded overalls keep us snug. Even Diane was comfortably warm. We crossed a massive, shallow valley. Feels like we are on a frozen lake but in fact it was just flat ground. Then we turned up a narrow gorge to look at a frozen waterfall. First obstacle was a short slope. The dogs could not quite pull the sledge up, so I hopped off the back to run and push. The moment the sledge crested the top, the dogs accelerated downwards and I had to leap back on the sledge while jumping on the brake so as not to overrun the dogs. Diane whooped and thought this was great fun. I wondered briefly how she would have felt had I missed my leap and abandoned her and the sledge to vanish into the distance. At the top of the gorge we took turns holding the sledges and inspecting the waterfall. Turning all the dog teams round, in a narrow gorge, was fun. The trick is to keep the teams apart otherwise they fight. Probably took about 20 minutes to get everyone sorted and then we were off again. Back over the little slope. I was ready for it this time. Then a loop to the north that took us round a mountain and back to the cabin.

The evening was pretty much a repeat. More wine was drunk and there was some singing. Not by me I would stress. A construction that looked a little like a large barrel by the side of the cabin was in fact a sauna. Several of the guests took advantage of this. I gave it a miss. Tried a sauna once but for the life of me could not understand why anyone would want to sit around and get hot. Makes me uncomfortable and sweaty for no apparent benefit at all. Each to their own.

Day three. Last day. I could happily have carried on. We still had a good four or five hour run with the dogs. Came back a different route to the way out over some slightly more challenging terrain. It has been a long time since I ran so much in one day. All too soon we were back and saying goodbye to our dogs. The final highlight of the trip was puppies. We visited a separate area of the kennels where there were puppies. Unbearably cute little bundles of fur that we had to give back. One day, I thought, one day…

Svalbard

Svalbard is an archipelago to the north of Norway. Way, way north. The capital, Longyearbyen, at  78°N, is the world’s most northerly settlement (>1,000), approximately halfway between Norway and the North Pole. It is also the furthest north either of us have been and indeed, the highest latitude I have ever been to. From Denmark we took the ferry to Gothenburg and then drove to Oslo airport. Parking here, if booked well in advance, is remarkably cheap, for Norway.

We flew to Tromsø in the north of Norway. On arrival we had to leave the aircraft, taking all our hand luggage, and then go through security checks. After this came passport control. Then we were herded back to the original plane where we could pack our hand luggage back in the overhead lockers and retake our earlier seats. Svalbard, formerly known as Spitzbergen, was established in the early twentieth century, when the high quality coal reserves became important. While the whole archipelago, annexed by the Svalbard Act 1925, has Norwegian sovereignty, it remains outside of Schengen and the EEA. Hence the passport and security checks. No visas are required to visit or work here and this appears to attract a wide variety of people from around the world. The main island is now known as Spitzbergen while the whole archipelago is called Svalbard.

It took nearly two hours to fly from Tromsø to Longyearbyn. We dropped out of the clouds to an expanse of glacier covered islands and snowy tundra. As we landed, snow was drifting across the runway. The sun never sets here. Not in the summer. It just goes around in a circle in the sky. In the winter it sets for three months but while we were there it was complete daylight. Longyearbyn airport is small. Just one luggage carousel and just one bus outside. The bus calls at all the hotels. Our hotel, the “Coal Miner’s Cabin” was basic but comfortable. The room was just big enough for two single beds and the shared bathrooms were a short walk down the corridor.

Less than an hour after arriving at our hotel, we were standing outside it waiting for the snowcat. Roads on Svalbard are limited to the town. There are very few cars. To get elsewhere needs something more capable. The Volvo snowcat is a very capable rough terrain vehicle. We were soon bouncing up the track out of town to visit an ice cave along with a guide and two other aspirant glacio-speleologists.

This particular cave had formed underneath a glacier. During the summer meltwater works its way through cracks in the ice and runs down the valley underneath the glacier making a cave. Arriving at a rather windy and bleak part of what was otherwise plain, snow covered hillside, we were taken to a door. A door in a snow bank. Inside a small tunnel angled sharply downwards. We switched on our headtorches and dived in. There was a rope to hang on to. This was essential because blowing snow had filled in the steps previously cut into the hard snow. After a bit of lowering, sliding and generally scrabbling around we arrived inside the cave on a rock floor with ice all around us.

The passageway was, for the most part, quite narrow. For about forty minutes we worked our way downwards. Once section involved a bit of crawling. Eventually we got to a large chamber with handprints on the wall. Not ancient cave art but prints made by the warm hands of previous visitors. In the roof were ice crystals. Given the right circumstances, water can freeze directly out of the air and makes incredibly delicate angular crystals. The walls of the cave were smoothed off by the water revealing layers in the glacial ice. Remnant of how it has formed over the years. There we also a variety of stones and pebbles shaped by the water and ice. After pondering the 40m or so of ice above our heads, we made our way back. Exiting the small tunnel proved even more interesting than getting in. A fair amount of grunting and heaving was required.

Heading back down the valley the wind dropped a bit. We stopped on top of a moraine hill overlooking the town for a quick brew and a biscuit. The wind may have dropped but the whole view was still grey and sombre. We hoped it would improve for the next day when we were embarking on a dog sledding trip.

Kristiansand to Denmark

Our last few days in Scandinavia and Norway continued to deliver. We’ve seen quite a lot of Norway now and the scenery everywhere is fabulous. Mountains, fjords, ferociously steep cliffs and gorgeous views. The roads are generally quiet, the people friendly and the travelling easy.

This sheep was giving us the eye – but generally Norway is a very friendly place

This is how we like to park up for the night. First, get off the road. 2. Drive down a nice track. 3. Find a quiet and peaceful parking place. 4. Feel smug. 5. Enjoy the view while cooking dinner.

  • Get off the road
  • Get right off the road
  • Find a nice parking place
  • Be happy
  • Contemplate the view

Eventually we ran out of Norway. We’d started at the very top and had now reached the very bottom. It was a good trip and we’d like to come back for another go someday. On the northward leg we had used the Øresund Bridge. Described as an engineering marvel, it connects Copenhagen with Malmö in Sweden and gives the northbound traveller excellent access to the central Scandinavian hinterland. It is 8km long and starts in a tunnel. It is, without doubt, very impressive. The toll fee is also impressive. Eye wateringly so.

For the return trip we took the ferry from Kristiansand to Hirtshals in Denmark. There are two vessels that run this route. The HSC Fjord Cat is one of the fastest car carrying ferries in the world and does over 40 knots. We took Colorline Superspeed, another big, fast, comfortable catamaran that is more pedestrian and cheaper.   

  • Industry and fjords

Back in Denmark we ended the trip where we had started, three months earlier, with the wonderful Lars and Inge. The sun was shining. We hopped in one of their many Land Rovers and went for a picnic. Perfect.

After Denmark came the mostly boring trek back to the Unicat workshop in Germany. We paused briefly at the Kiel Canal. Watching the ships go past was fun for a while but they keep going all night and it did get to be a bit noisy for sleeping.

Lysebotn

I have been told that I should write a little more about each blog entry.

Lysebotn is a small village at the end of the Lysefjorden. It is particularly isolated and can only be reached by a small road or by boat. The surrounding cliffs are steep and high making them popular for base jumping. The local economy is based on work at two hydroelectric stations – both of which are built entirely inside the mountains. In the summer, when the road is open, there is some tourism. The road is epic. It crosses the mountains for some 25km and then goes down a 900m cliff to the village. This involves 27 hairpin turns, one of which is inside a tunnel.

Baloo is not very good at steep hairpin bends. Partly this is because of the limited turning circle. We have to do shunts to get round tighter bends. The other problem is that when executing a shunt we have to drive the front wheels right to the edge of the road. In this position the cab is hanging out over the drop and this is a bit scary. So, in the interests of a quieter life, we hopped on the bike.

Brilliant views coming over the mountains. Tight, winding road. Virtually no other traffic. Ideal really. Well, apart from the cloud and rain, that caught up with us just are we started the descent. By the time we reached the fjord at the bottom the rain was coming down by the bucket full. From the waterline the fjord was steep, high, dark, moody and ominous. We did a quick turnaround. Grabbed a couple of photos and then set off back up the hill. At the top of the hairpins is a fantastic wooden café which hangs out over the cliff. Great scenery despite the mist. The rain turned to snow making me a bit concerned for the trip back. The KTM 690 Enduro is a terrific bike but, like most bikes, it is rubbish in the snow.

Coffee and cake in the café to fuel the return journey then back over the mountains. The snow eased as we reached the highest point. Happy days. It had just started to settle on the road a little but then faded away and suddenly there were patches of blue skies in front of us. The rest of the trip back to Baloo and Cent was cold, uneventful and thoroughly enjoyable.

Sognefjord

The Sognefjord is Norway’s longest and deepest fjord. Incredible views, big waterfalls, narrow roads, small but very capable ferries. We stumbled upon the steep road to Gaularfjellet. Baloo needed to do shunts on several hairpins. With the front wheels at the edge of the road, the cab is hanging out into space. I find this more than a little disconcerting at times.

Briksdalen

At the far end of Nordfjord is the Briksdalen Valley. A classic U shaped glacial valley that still has a glacier at the end. This place can be very busy with visitors but luckily we got there a week or two before the main tourist and cruise ship season begins.

  • Tunnel seemed very small from inside Baloo
  • Briksdalsbreen is an arm of the great Jostedalsbreen Glacier
  • An old friend

Mitsi

A few days ago, one of our German Shepherds, Mitsi, took her last trip to the vet. We were sad to see her go. This is her story.

Mitsi came from a dog rescue centre. She had been re-homed three times and each time came back to the centre because of intolerable behaviour. So, despite being a lovely looking German Shepherd with a clear pedigree, she was scheduled to be put down. Mitsi was a fundamentally nervous dog. Her response to any situation that unsettled her was to be aggressive. If she saw another dog, she would immediately go for it. She would also attack people, in particular adult men, and this had already caused a lot of trouble.  I have looked after dogs all my life. Of course I could deal with a dog like Mitsi – all she needed was a stable environment and a firm hand. I was completely wrong.

The first week that a dog is in a new environment is a little honeymoon period. The dog will cautiously explore its surroundings and learn about its social position. Typically, the dog is a bit withdrawn, shy, quiet and generally unobtrusive. I did not know this. I thought everything was going well and that Mitsi had found the safe environment that she could settle down in.

A couple of weeks later she began to assert herself. She started using the upstairs of the house as a toilet, chased my cats away, ate part of the sofa and bit my good friend Pete. She also bit my Dad and dug holes in the garden. Taking her for a walk was a nightmare. If she saw another dog, she went ballistic. Straining on the end of her lead, barking furiously, pulling for all she was worth and not taking a blind bit of notice of anything I said or did. She also went for people, adults and children, so our walks became a furtive and isolated nocturnal affair.

I needed help. I met with several people. We tried clickers, food treats, command words, gestures and even dropping keys on the floor. These tactics were about as effective as waving a stick at a runaway locomotive. Mitsi could go from zero to redline in the blink of an eye and there was nothing I could do about it. We looked at some training classes. But what Mitsi needed was not training but some sort of behaviour modification. I did not want to teach her tricks I just wanted to be able to take her for a walk and actually enjoy it. Cesar Millan (The Dog Whisperer – TV show in the USA) seemed to have a good approach. I read his books and watched the TV series but could not work out how this could translate this into something that would work with Mitsi. I read many other books. Learnt an awful lot about dogs, aggressive dogs, badly behaved dogs and much more but still could not find something I could really use.


Then a chance encounter led me to meet up with Keith (www.keithdickinson.co.uk). Keith is from Barnsley. He is 100% Yorkshire. Opinionated, stubborn, dour, intolerant, would rather deal with dogs than people, smokes roll-ups, drinks bitter and has a heart of gold. On our first meeting Mitsi set off as usual – barking furiously, pulling furiously, ignoring me completely – and Keith stopped her dead. He did something, waved his arms, said something and my manic dog lay down on the floor, quiet as you like. It was the sort of thing you see on television and do not really believe. I had no idea how he did it. In five seconds, he had done something that I had failed to achieve in months of trying. Brilliant, I thought. Show me how.


I ended up spending several years training with Keith. Weekly classes and guided walk with twenty or more other dogs. A few months in it began to dawn on me that we were not really training the dog at all – it was me that was getting an education. Dogs live in the moment and actually behave in very predicable ways. Any dog, in a given set of circumstances, will react in a similar fashion. Keith had not stopped Mitsi with magic; he had simply talked to her in a way she understood. Similarly, there is no magic ending to this story; Mitsi remained a nervous dog all her life. German Shepherds have a predisposition to nervousness (which can make them good guard dogs) and she had probably been treated appallingly when a puppy. As Keith explained it – we cannot stop her feeling scared but we can change how she responds to this. The key to this is leadership. By being her pack leader, a Cesar Millan expression, she would look to me for guidance rather than reacting on her own. Dog training classes then are really about teaching people how to understand the way a dog sees the world and how to communicate with it. Much of this is quite counter-intuitive to most people, which is why the relationship with their dog is often not what they think it is at all.

  • 20 badly behaved dogs
  • Introductions

I could fairly quickly get on top of some of the worst behaviour. New people could be introduced to the house without risk of being bitten. Toilet habits were addressed. She stopped damaging the furniture. It took a while, but she eventually even made friends with the cats. Her immediate reaction to seeing another dog always remained aggressive but I could limit this and with a modicum of work overcome it. She made friends with many dogs and got to run free with other dogs in the field. Of course, if I was not there then she would revert to her previous form and this did give rise to several incidents of people being bitten throughout her life (sorry Pete, Malcolm, Liz, Graham, Franca, the Frenchman, the Swede and possibly others).

The other problem with Mitsi was eating. She did not like commercial dog food at all despite being very skinny when I got her. She also had a tendency to eat her own poos, coprophagia. Why would she eat a poo rather than kibble? This really made no sense to me. Keith had the answer to this as well. Commercial dog food is, despite all appearances, a by-product of the human food industry with the primary purpose of reducing waste. The contents of dog food is not based on what a dog wants or needs but actually much more to do with what the food industry has left over. So, for example, kibble contains a minimum of 30% carbohydrate and starch which dogs simply cannot chew properly or digest. Most dog food, tinned, dried or whatever, contains grains and other foodstuff which are completely indigestible to dog. To make the commercial dog food more appealing synthetic colouring and flavour enhancements are added. Much of the kibble passes straight through the dog leading to big, messy poos which are still flavoured with the chemicals.

Dogs are carnivores. Just look at their teeth. Sharp fangs designed to cute and tear. They are seriously meant for killing and eating animals. We are not quite sure when the first dogs were domesticated but somewhere round 15,000 years ago there were no dogs at all, just wolves. This is not so long in evolutionary terms and certainly their digestive system is virtually identical to the modern wolf. Dogs have evolved to eat raw meat and the odd bit of vegetable matter. I tried feeding her on raw chicken, bones and everything, with a few raw vegetables. Uncooked chicken bones are quite soft and easily digested by a dog. Cooked bones are hard, can splinter, are indigestible and dangerous.

She loved it. She would eat as much as I gave her – for the first time ever. She put on weight, her coat improved and she stopped eating poos. She noticeably became more relaxed and content – as you might expect of a dog that was finally feeling we fed. And she was healthy on a raw diet. Very healthy. Her stomach will have become much more acidic than a kibble dog and this gave her much greater immunity to many pathogens a scavenging dog can encounter. Apart from immunisations, the only time Mitsi saw a vet was her last time.

Training, diet, environment and leadership. She was never going to be perfectly well behaved or good with other dogs but we could at least live together and even enjoy the odd walk. Mostly I kept her muzzled when we were out. Some people do not like muzzles but it meant I could let her off the lead and let her meet other dogs without the danger of things getting nasty.

Mitsi got involved in pretty much everything Diane and I did. We bought a motorhome so that we could take her on holiday. We travelled the country. We travelled abroad. She went skiing and loved it. I bought her a pulling harness. She loved pulling, took to it immediately. In the summer, she would pull me on my bike and in winter, I would take to skis. All good but I could never quite trust her with other dogs and got to wondering if a companion would help. Dogs are pack animals and generally like being with other dogs. They also tend to be better behaved when in groups. Mitsi was definitely improved. What Cesar calls “the power of the pack”. Anyhow, I quite fancied having another dog.

  • Dog pulling power
  • Guarding the motorhome
  • Mitsi does the Alps

Keith introduced me to Vikkas kennels in Lincolnshire. They mostly breed dogs for military, police and protection work. We went down there one afternoon and came away with Cent. Cent is a big boy dog, almost twice the size of Mitsi. He is a thoroughbred GSD with an impeccable pedigree. More importantly, he is calm and well balanced. The introductions were a bit tricky. Mitsi was quite resistant to losing her status as top dog. However, after Cent had asserted himself a few times she started to get the message and eventually they became great friends. For the most part Mitsi was calmed and reassured by Cent’s presence. Occasionally it made things worse when Mitsi felt she absolutely had to have a go at someone or something and Cent would dive in to help her.

  • Dogs in caves
  • Wolves in the forest

In her later years Mitsi developed Canine Degenerative Myelopathy, a genetic condition that caused progressive weakness in her back legs. This did not stop her going everywhere with us. When we were finally ready to take to the road in Baloo we set up a bed for her behind the driver’s seat. We also got her a harness so we could help her in and out. She was very happy to take on the world from up there. She was sat behind me. She could see everything out of the windows. She could bark at passing dogs from the safety of her vantage point. Like this, she happily travelled right across Europe.

  • Ready to take on Europe

We were sad to see Mitsi go. It was comforting to reflect on the long journey we had made together. She got a life and I learned more about dogs than I thought possible. Cent is the best dog I have ever known and I feel that I understand dogs well enough now as to be worthy of him. In a sense, this is all because of Mits. So we owe her a lot and we will all miss her.    

Nordkapp

This is as far North as it is possible to drive in Europe. It is very popular. We waited six days for the roads to be cleared and drove up with the first convoy. Met some interesting people but after an hour or so we left as the first coaches of tourists from the Hurtigruten cruise ship arrived.

  • http://worldroamers.com/
  • This guy had ridden on studded tyres from Finland