Checkpot, we find the campsite of our dreams

(Photos of the diary entry can be found at the end of the text).

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“The place down there looks great. If there wasn’t a no trespassing sign, it would be a great place to stay for a few days. There’s even a toilet block!” I exclaim enthusiastically. “No sign to be seen,” says Tanja as we roll at walking pace over a large embankment onto an unpaved area directly on the beach. “It would be too good to be true,” I reply, looking around. “Nothing. You can stay there,” Tanja concludes after a closer inspection. “Great!” I’m delighted, because the place is even more beautiful than I had dreamed. “It works with visualization,” says Tanja happily. “Absolutely. I’m always amazed at how wishes can come true. You just have to believe in it. If the trade fair is hopefully canceled now, we’ll stay for a few weeks. Then I can catch up on all the paperwork and we can finally get some rest after all the driving.” “Don’t be over-euphoric. A few weeks is probably a bit of an exaggeration,” Tanja tries to bring me down from my cloud nine. “Who knows? Let’s stay here for now and make ourselves at home. Look how beautiful it is here,” I say, pointing to the high snow-covered mountains that form a U-shape behind us and run along the left and right of the fjord. A few hundred meters to our right, around 30 wooden houses nestle against the ridge. Most of them seem to be inhabited, at least almost all of them are illuminated. To our left, four or five small houses are hidden behind a few trees. “And the view of the fjord in front of us is simply breathtaking. Better than anything we’ve ever had before,” Tanja joins in my enthusiasm. “I said yes. It was good to leave the North Cape earlier than planned,” I say. “What? I said that, not you!” Tanja contradicts. “I know. I was only joking. You’re almost always right about that.” “Almost? Not almost, I’m always right.” “Well, don’t exaggerate. Sometimes I’m right too,” I reply, a little sourly. “Ha, ha, ha. Just kidding,” she makes fun of me. “Ha, ha, ha,” we both almost collapse with laughter.

The sun now says goodbye at 17:00 on October 18. It sets or rises about 9 minutes earlier every day. The evening temperatures have now dropped to minus 3 °C. A light wind whispers around the Terra. We sit in the warmth and look through our large window directly at the 1,200 meter wide stone fjord stretching out in front of us. It nestles between two rugged mountain ranges that bend to the west and east respectively, about four kilometers from our beach. So we can look out over the Arctic Ocean from our Terra Love until it is swallowed up somewhere on the horizon by a band of cloud that is still softly illuminated at this hour. “You have to pay a fortune for such a first-class view in hotels,” I say to myself, savoring the delicious fresh fish that Tanja has prepared.

It is 9:48 pm. We lie in our cozy beds. I am already reading the fifth volume of the Viking saga and am immersed in one of the many bloody battles of the Northmen. From time to time I look out of the window over the now dark fjord with its two rocky, black towering flanks. “She’s here!” I shout, downright terrified. “Aurora?” asks Tanja, “Yes, a great aurora,” I reply, whereupon we frantically jump into our clothes, grab our cameras and hurry into the moonless night. Although we have been able to admire the celestial spectacle almost every night since our first aurora sighting in Lofoten over three weeks ago, we never tire of watching it again and again. We now stand on the beach in amazement and watch the celestial dance that is taking place above our heads, a dance that can be traced back to solar winds made up of energetic particles, electrons, protons and a little helium. It took this solar storm 18 hours to travel the 150 million kilometers until it hit the Earth’s magnetic field, the magnetosphere. When the energetic particles combine with the earth’s own atoms, the Northern Lights are created. Green light phenomena occur at an altitude of 80 to 150 kilometers, red and blue colors between 150 and 600 kilometers. Like a volcanic explosion, the green-blue light is hurled from a huge crevice in the western mountain range into the sky, which is dotted with twinkling stars. Then it arches over the mirror-smooth fjord and disappears behind the rocky massif to the east of us, at the foot of which the few houses have been built. As if the Norwegians wanted to turn the dark night into day, light soon shines out of every window. Even the road, which is no longer used at this time of day, is illuminated by streetlights, like almost every traffic route in Norway. The yellow-looking sources of light form a fascinating counterpoint to the colorful aurora borealis in the starry sky. “Simply unbelievable,” I say, deeply impressed by such stunning beauty. “Wow, wow, wow, whispers Tanja, struggling for words…