I am 14244 days old today. This makes me almost twice as old as the World Wide Web, a young rascal of 7323 days. Not to mention Justin Bieber, a newcomer with only 6385 days to show for himself. Hm. Anyway, I'm quite satisfied with both my age and my condition, thank you very much.
Since my last blog entry, I've gone to Morocco and returned alive and with fairly clean underwear. It could have been different. Just before I walked off my bus from Casablanca to Marrakesh at the end of my trip, a suicide bomber decided to push the button in a restaurant on the famous Djemaa el-Fna city square. If I had taken an earlier bus, I would have been there or very close right then.
Walking around in a sad Marrakesh wasn't the best ending of an otherwise great trip through Morocco and West Sahara. Soon I can show you guys the highlights of that journey. I'm working on the photos right now.
To experience a distinct contrast from the cave people, shepherds and berbers, my next expedition became a two week stay in Walt Disney World. Not so much to do the rides as to observe Americans doing what they appear to prefer to spend their short vacations on. What is it that makes people in a society built on convenience gather in crowds so large that they typically end up standing in line for hours just to do something that is likely to make them throw up some of the 150 tons of popcorn sold and presumably eaten in the parks every year? I still don't know, but I figured it was worth giving understanding it a shot.
A few days of high-season Disney made me somewhat people-shy. My medicine was to go hiking in the vast mountains in the arctic north of Norway.
The last year I have been to many excellent places, but neither quiet mornings in the jungle in Tikal, a crossing of the Pyrenees under the autumn sun, exciting bugs hiding unsuccessfully from me in the Sahara, the Titanic shipyard in Belfast ("She was fine when she left here!") or a VIP passes in theme parks can compete with a midsummer spring in the north of Norway.
Okay, so there may have been some ice-cold fording of glacier streams, fist-fights with horseflies and a wee bit too many too steep hills, but that is all forgotten now. What's left are just the beautiful memories of enchanting days and nights with no sunsets.
The photos from these hikes are the next ones on their way into my gallery, so just you keep checking back. And even though the one day in the year when I turn older has come, rest assured that I'm still the same Bjørn. Which means, soon there will be more to read and see here.
Please visit again soon, and have a great day, you too!
Bjørn
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