What qualities does the ambassador of Mother Earth need?

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

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What qualities does the ambassador of Mother Earth need?

Before we leave Andenes, we go to the café next door and post a few updates. Hoping to meet Fynn, I ask at reception. “Fynn? We don’t know him,” replies the young woman. “An 80-year-old man with a thick white beard. He was there for a long time yesterday. He was wearing worn overalls,” I follow up. “I’m sorry,” I hear. As I wanted to take another picture of him, I sink into one of the armchairs, a little disappointed. “We carry the unforgettable story in our memories. We don’t need a photo,” says Tanja. “Hm, that’s right,” I reply, concentrating again on the story I’m typing into the laptop.

In the afternoon, we leave the small town of Andenes with its 2,561 inhabitants at the northern end of the island of Andøya behind us and follow the route that Nathalie and Stefan had recommended to us yesterday morning. “It was nice here,” I say, taking one last look in the rear-view mirror. “Unforgettable,” Tanja answers quietly. “Would you have liked to stay longer?” I ask, because I think I detect something melancholy in her voice. “I don’t know. I love whales and would have liked to spend more time with them. On the other hand, we want to get to the North Cape before winter sets in. That’s why it’s okay for me to say goodbye to this island and discover new places.” “This Norway is incredibly impressive and beautiful. I would have liked to stay longer. I would stay longer anywhere if we had more time,” I reply. “We have more time than most people,” Tanja replies. “And yet it never seems to be enough,” I reply. “If it were up to you, we’d be driving through this country for several years,” says Tanja with a laugh. “Exactly. I would prefer to stay in one country until I have explored every nook and cranny, until I have understood and experienced everything. Only when my curiosity is satisfied would I travel to the next country if I could.” “You’re a real glutton for punishment.” “That’s one way of looking at it, but as you know, this thirst for knowledge of the unknown is deeply rooted in me. The further away and more exotic, the better. I don’t know why that is.” “That’s why you became a traveler and ambassador for Mother Earth. It’s a fantastic job and a wonderful calling. It’s not for everyone on earth to be able to live their calling and do nothing but travel the world for 30 years, capturing our experiences on film, in pictures and in writing. Somehow strange that we humans never get enough. Even when they have everything, they always want more.” “Hm, that’s true, but I’m not just interested in having more time for myself. It’s more about understanding connections and I feel like I don’t have a grasp of the big picture. If I am an ambassador for Mother Earth, it would make sense to understand her. Only then, I believe, could I convey to people the fundamental importance of protecting the platform of life for all of us. I would love to embrace the planet, cradle it like a baby in my arms and convince every citizen of the world to do the same,” I mused, shifting down a gear to steer the Terra into a tight turn. “I don’t believe that you have to understand all the connections in order to be able to convey to people that the Earth as a platform for life is worth protecting. You don’t have to be omniscient to do that. The right ingredients for your job are love, curiosity, a thirst for knowledge, activism and perseverance. After being by your side for over 30 years now, I know you have that.” “You think so?” “Of course I do. Or do you think you can pursue this strenuous lifestyle for 30 years without these qualities?” “Strenuous?” “Well, just think of our desert crossings with horses and camels, the eternal marches and the 30,000-kilometre bike trip from Germany to Asia, to name just a few of our expeditions.” “Ha, ha, ha. That’s right. That was indeed exhausting. I should show more modesty and be satisfied with the time we have.” “You should,” Tanja says, smiling at me.

Tanja, whose words have just touched me deeply, looks out of the window. The North Sea stretches out to our right. It shows its peaceful side. Only shallow, small waves splash against the west coast. The narrow road winds like a snake towards the southwest. To our left, we catch a glimpse of a moor-like landscape covered in heather, interrupted time and again by mountain ranges. At 263 km², Norway’s tenth largest island is home to the country’s largest contiguous moorland area, where peat is still mined today. Peat used to be the only fuel with which the inhabitants fired their stoves to survive the long winters.

In the cloudless afternoon, the slowly sinking ball of sunlight sends its bright rays into the driver’s cab. Blinded by the glaring light, I pull the sun visor down. After a while, I break our peaceful silence. “You have the same positive qualities.” “What do you mean?” “Well, love, curiosity, a thirst for knowledge, activism and perseverance. If you weren’t blessed with them, we wouldn’t be able to complete this decades-long life journey together. Thank you from the bottom of my heart, my beloved treasure.” “You don’t need to thank me for that. You know that it can’t be a coincidence that we’ve been able to spend this wonderful life together.” “Yes, I know that and yet I’m grateful that it is.”