Is courage a form of happiness?

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

Click here for the podcasts!




Link to the current itinerary

(For more posts click on one of the flags in the map

Shortly before 9:00 a.m., the first faint rays of sunlight shimmer through a harmless-looking wall of clouds and slowly displace the night. The wide stream next to us gushes loudly into the lake, which looks very small at this point, but according to the map widens into a gigantic fjord landscape that joins the North Sea in about 30 kilometers. We pack our things and leave the remote village at dawn, follow the forest path, drive through the underpass, which no longer seems cramped in daylight, and end up back on the E6. On the 184 kilometers ahead of us today, we cross 22 bridges and drive through 20 tunnels. Because of our negative experience with the truck yesterday, we are tense on the first few trips through the tunnel. Fortunately, there is hardly any traffic and no threatening situation, so we regain our confidence and enjoy the ride through this never-ending wonderful landscape to the full.

We take a break at a small waterfall, which belongs to the Kobbelv power station and pours into the Sorfjord, to stretch our legs and give Ajaci some exercise. The nearby hotel is closed due to Corona, which is why we are also alone here. “It’s strange to hardly see any people in all these beautiful places,” says Tanja, looking at the clear, foaming water of the mountain stream as it winds around and over the rocks. “Yes, it’s strange. It always reminds me how privileged we are to be able to travel so freely during such bad times.” “Privileged? Somehow that also has something to do with courage,” Tanja ponders. “Courage?” I now interject questioningly. “Yes, we set off at a time when it wasn’t clear how long the Norwegians would keep the borders open. That has something to do with courage. It could have been that the whole of Scandinavia sealed itself off from the outside world, in which case we would have come here for nothing.” “Not for nothing, because we experienced a lot on the way to the border alone.” “I completely agree with you. Maybe it wasn’t courage, but luck? Maybe both together? Obviously there is a connection between luck and courage,” Tanja ponders further. “Hm, an interesting train of thought. Courage, a form of happiness? There could be something to it. If we hadn’t had the courage to set off into the unknown, we wouldn’t have experienced the last few months of happiness, love and hospitality. If we hadn’t had the courage to quit our jobs 30 years ago, we wouldn’t have lived this extraordinarily happy and interesting life. There is definitely a strong connection between courage and happiness. A courageous life has something to do with authenticity, and those who live an authentic life are close to happiness,” I continue my reflections. “I remember our crossing of Australia with camels. I had to summon up a lot of courage to do that. Sometimes more than I had. Today I am glad, even happy, to have overcome my fears, because those were very happy, unforgettable years,” says Tanja. “It’s crazy, we’re standing here in Norway by a rushing mountain stream and thinking about courage and happiness. We go from the hundredth to the thousandth, from one story to another. It’s remarkable how everything is connected.” “Even courage and happiness,” laughs Tanja cheerfully.


15:00. It is already dark. Our satnav guides us along narrow country lanes to another secluded parking space recommended to us by the Park4night app. “Turn left there,” Tanja draws my attention to a fork in the road that is barely visible. “Will the meadow support our terra?” I ask myself. “I’ll get out and check the ground before we sink here,” says Tanja and climbs out of the cabin. “All clear. The ground is frozen and hard as a rock!” she calls out moments later. Before we retire to the cozy cabin, we walk through knee-high grass to the sea. Taking a deep breath, we breathe in the cold breeze that sweeps over the water and fills our lungs with energy. Although it is dark, a broad red stripe arches over our heads. “That’s strange. Is that the last ray the sun sends over to us from the other side of the earth?” wonders Tanja. “Really strange. I’ve never seen anything like it. Actually, the whole horizon should light up and not just a strip that moves away from the horizon at a right angle and fires lengthwise across the sky. It’s crazy what nature has in store,” I say quietly, as if a voice that is too loud could scare the light away. We stand there spellbound for quite a while, watching the sky and the many lights of the town of Bodø that illuminate the coastline on the opposite side of the bay. “It’s only a few kilometers from here to the largest tidal stream in the world. Shall we go and see it tomorrow? As the fair has been canceled, we would have time to pay it a visit,” I ask Tanja. “Good idea. We should do that, but now let’s go inside. It’s getting cold out here.”…