A Bit Of A Wild Weekend In The Lake District


We leave Hayfield at about seven thirty in the morning. James has come over the night before so we can get an early start. Going to the eastern Lakes doesn’t take too long, but we’re off to the south west, meaning a trek around the southern coast, and lots of small, single track roads.

The weather is pretty good, lots of blue skies and sunshine, and quite warm. It promises to be a lovely day.

Several hours later, parking up around the south side of Harter Fell, we lift our packs and set off.

The way up is steep and I’m soon overheating – mind you these days, I can be like that sat in a freezer, never mind toiling up a hillside.

Views open out all around and we stop for a quick break, two thirds of the way up.

James is on a Birkett Bagging weekend, so I assume Harter Fell is a Birkett, as he goes off clambering to the top.

Despite the sun, the wind is icy up here and I zip everything up to keep out the cold. I even put gloves on – very unusual for me.

Dropping off the far side, there are apparently more Birketts to bag before we hit the top of the pass and cross over to Hardknott Fell. I decide that I’m quite happy not to stand on the actual summit of each one and we get into a routine of him leaving his pack with me for the last section every time, so that he can scamper up the remaining 50 metres or so, light and unemcumbered.

The light seems quite special and the views are gorgeous.

Dropping down to the road in between Hardknott and Wrynose, we cross over and start making our way up Hard Knott. Only there’s Border End to bag on the way…..

I only have to wait about 15 minutes for him to top out, but it’s starting to really cool down for the evening now. I don another layer while I’m still.


Light is starting to fade a touch as we continue on. We’re looking for a likely spot to pitch for the night now and find one to the east of Yew Bank.

Water is filtered from a nearby wet area.

And once we’re all set up, James trots off to bag Yew Bank. I put the kettle on.


I’ve slept really well, but as I awake at about 6am, needing the loo, it’s throwing it down. I hang on as long as I can but eventually have to give in. I put my waterproofs on, but everything gets drenched. Bugger. I have to drape all the wet stuff in the porch as best I can. I manage about another hour’s sleep.

When I hear James stirring, I shout over to him. The weather is pretty crap and I’ve lost the impetus to do the route he’s planned for the day. We know it’s forecast to get much worse, too.

A plan is successfully hatched. We’ll head up alongside Lingcove Beck and find somewhere as sheltered as possible to pitch up. I can then stay with the tents for the afternoon, while James energetically bounces around a few more Birketts, with only a light pack for company. Good plan. We pack up.

Visibility clears as we drop lower, but the wind and rain don’t ease up. Squelching up the valley, following the beck upstream, we suddenly spy a lovely green spot at Green Hole. James is convinced he’s camped here once before with Rich Baldwin, when Rich’s Laser Competition happened to get trashed by overnight snow.

It’s definitely less squelchy here, so that’s a good point. There’s also a few pieces of an aircraft wreck – something small like a Cessna or a Piper, I reckon.

(I find out later from a few friends who researched it for me, that it is a Piper that crashed into Bowfell, in 1987. The main part of the wreckage is much nearer Bowfell.)

The weather is even more crap by now and James has also lost the impetus to start hunting out Birketts for the afternoon. We hunker down for the rest of the day.

But we’re not alone. We’d no idea, but the OMM Mountain Marathon is on this weekend. Every time I stick my head out of the tent there are people everywhere.

And I have to say, I don’t think we saw any that were smiling.

There are so many competitors passing by, that every time I go out for a wee, I realise afterwards that about 6 people must have seen me.

Some even come over to say hello, either thinking we’re a checkpoint or asking us if we know where the next one is. We send several folk in the right direction to one that’s not too far away.

The wind gets worse but the rain stops for a couple of hours. I take the opportunity to stand outside for a bit, holding my waterproofs up like a couple of sails, in the hope that this’ll take the worst of the moisture off them. It works quite successfully. I even offer to hold James’ jacket out for a while – it’s the least I can do. The poor guy’s stuck inside his tent since in his hurry to pitch today, he attached the inside the wrong way round. This means the doors don’t line up properly, so after battling his way in, he’s vowed not to leave it again ’till morning.

Passing the rest of the afternoon quite happily, I watch a couple of episodes of W1A on my mobile. Always good for a laugh. James is reading, so I mustn’t laugh too loud.

Just as it’s starting to go dark, we hear a guy call out to us. It’s a couple on the OMM, wanting to know if we can show them exactly where they are, on the map. James obliges. It’s not where they think they are. How can they get down to where they’re supposed to be by nightfall? Maybe they should dig in for the night?

The woman especially, looks tired and very wet. I stick my nose in and suggest they’d be better off digging in, then apologise for interfering. They don’t need that suggestion twice though. Their tent is soon up.

A short while later, I hear the guy go and ask to borrow a lighter off James. All their waterproof matches have drowned in the weather today, so they can’t light their stove. James, of course, obliges once more.

James tells me his plan for tomorrow. It involves going back to the car via Esk Pike and several more Birketts, and includes getting up in the dark and being off walking by dawn. The weather is supposed to be much better by then. An excellent plan, but I decide I’ll make my own way off via Moasdale and meet him back at the car. For some reason I’m feeling a bit less fit and bouncy than I want to feel this weekend. Could just be One Of Those Things, but nevertheless, I vow to make a concerted effort over the next few weeks, to lose a few of those extra kilograms around my middle that I seem to have picked up recently…


So last night was really Wilder Than A Wild Thing. Especially between the hours of about 10pm and 2am. I slept terribly. I had my usual battle with my pillow, the rivers were too noisy, the rain was too noisy, the wind was definitely too noisy. The Southern Cross 1 had an excellent try out in the wild weather though and passed with flying colours.

I stick my head out of the tent as James is about to set off walking. Still a bit breezy but nothing like before. The sky is blue and although the wind is now from the north and positively Arctic, it promises to be a lovely day. What a contrast from yesterday!

We agree to be back at the car by 2pm and he sets off in the direction of Esk Pike. Ten minutes later, I see another guy approaching me. It’s Peter Dixon. It doesn’t surprise me that’s he’s turned up and it’s lovely to see him. He’s brought his breakfast to have with us.

A quick chat though and he decides to go and catch James up and walk with him for the day. I’ll see him again later.


The OMM couple now start to surface. He seems pretty chatty, but as the woman appears, I am horrified by how she looks. She is visibly shivering and her lips are completely blue. I decide to interfere again and start a Casual Chat.

Have they slept well, were they warm enough?

The answer is no and no. All they had to lie on was one Karrimat between them, and all they had to wrap up in was one foil blanket between them. She’s been shivering uncontrollably all night. This is a real shame, especially since if only we’d known, James and I both had spare fleeces and down jackets that they could have borrowed for the night.

Have they had anything hot to eat or drink this morning?

And again, the answer is no. They’ve no fuel left. They used all their Esbit tablets up last night, trying to heat some food up. They also say that shortly before they came upon us yesterday, things were so bad they were on the verge of trying to ring for help. Apparently when they saw our tents, they couldn’t believe their luck and made a bee-line for us.

So I make them hot tea and hot chocolate, which they are happy to take the time to drink while they pack up. The Challenge is over for them now, they just want to go back home.

Another guy also appears at one point. He’s running around trying to account for all the people who didn’t make the camping field last night. He tells us that the wind over there was dreadful overnight. Someone had clocked gusts of 60mph and some of the Portaloos had been blown over. It’s to be hoped that no-one was in them at the time.

The couple is soon ready for off and head back over to the Langdales. I pack up and set off  to walk down Moasdale, and then the road for a short distance, back to the car.

It’s the second day of the OMM and I once more pass loads of folk. But the weather is stunning. Arctic wind, but blue skies and sun.

And once I get to Moasdale, it’s quiet. I see next to no-one for the rest of the day.



I’m back at the car around 1pm. James arrives about 45 minutes later – Peter’s given him a lift over after they’d finished their wander.

It’s been a great weekend. I always have a good laugh with my pal.

And it’s only a few weeks off now, until a group of us meet up for #ghostcamp……..

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Fran’s First Time

Fran fancied a wild camp. I couldn’t guarantee a perfect sunrise and sunset, but I could accompany her on a short trip – hopefully with a half decent weather forecast – and give her a flavour of what it is that we all like about wild camping.

I picked a spot close to home, somewhere I’d used a couple of times before. Not too far to walk with a heavier pack for the first time, yet still with a touch of a wild feel about it.

The weather was pleasantly mild and the autumn colours were still gorgeous.

We aimed to get there around 5pm – still currently light at that time of an evening, but the nights will soon be drawing in again.

Tents were soon up. Fran’s is an absolute classic – a one person ridge tent from Blacks of Greenock. Ace!

I’d taken along the 2 person Southern Cross, just in case the extra space was needed for any reason, and in actual fact it was brilliant for us both to sit in and chat, cook dinner, drink tea, eat chocolate etc.

Having never actually tried this tent with two people sat in it, it was a pleasant surprise how spacious it felt. No doubt it would also be comfortable if two were sleeping in it – the fact that it has two doors and porches would make a huge difference compared to a tent with one ‘end door.’

Fran had even carried a pint of milk up – fresh milk in Chai Tea!

And I tried the Idaho Instant potato stuff I’d bought for tea. Couldn’t believe how delicious it was. I stuck a small tin of beans in with it and a couple of chopped up Babybel. Definitely something I’ll have again.

Fran had brought a couple of Hot Chocolate Spoons for us (I’d never heard of them before, either) which are essentially a great lump of chocolate on a little wooden spoon. You heat up some milk, then stir the chocolate into it. Rather tasty! Someone added brandy to hers.

And I’ll leave it to your imagination what Fran’s Jetboil and the tent porch looked like when all the milk boiled over.

The weirdest moment of the evening though, was around 9:30pm, when we noticed what looked like a lot of search lights coming in our direction. Could have been the Rescue Team on either an exercise or a call-out, that would be no problem. They were moving far too quickly though. Trail bikes? Couldn’t hear any noise. Maybe they would go off up William Clough. They didn’t though, they came along the path we’d taken earlier, so within a couple of hundred yards of us. By this time we’d decided they were mountain bikes. Five of them, they all had a bank of four, extremely bright lights across their handlebars. Obviously intent on what they were doing, they passed us and continued down the hill. Then suddenly, it seemed like they were climbing off trail, back up towards us. It was a little off putting, to say the least! With hindsight, we reckon the lights were just so bright, that as they actually continued on away from us on the other side of the valley, they were reflected back in our direction.

Calming down again, we chatted a bit longer then Fran went off to her tent around half ten.

It was pretty windy as we settled down to sleep, but by 7:30 in the morning, when I surfaced, all was still.

It was a lovely morning.

Fran got particularly enthusiastic and took all her stuff outside to cook breakfast. Porridge with added brandy – !!! – and half a family sized bar of fruit and nut! (She gave me the other half to accompany my porridge, and I didn’t refuse.)

We took our time packing up and meandered back.

It had been a fun night out and I’m pretty sure Fran enjoyed it too. Mind you, I still haven’t told her about how Pebbles got in a state growling at something in the middle of the night, last time we were there. Something I couldn’t see…


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A Sneaky One On Great Shunner Fell

Featuring: mooching about, boggy ground, rocky ground, filtering water from a muddy puddle, millions of dead rabbits, sun/wind/rain, gorgeous views.




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Sarek, August 2017 – The Video

I have tonight put together a shortish video of this year’s trip, set to some First Aid Kit music.

It’s just under 10 minutes long…..

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My Thoughts On The Southern Cross 1

I don’t normally do gear reviews – I might say whether I like something or not, but that’s about it – but there seems to be a fair amount of interest in this tent, so I’ll pen my thoughts after its first night out.

Why Did We Buy A SC1?

We’ve had a Hilleberg Enan for about 3 years, and it’s generally been great. We initially bought it for my 2015 trip to Sarek with James, and it performed brilliantly out there.

It is a ‘sheltered, three season’ tent though, and Geoff did have an unforgettable night in the Howgills with it one January, with high winds and rain.

It never totally flattened, ripped, blew away or got damaged in any way, but it did give him a rather disturbed night. So, we’ve been wondering about something similar but specced as ‘four season’.

A year back, we bought a Southern Cross 2. It would be fairly cozy as a 2 person tent, although it does have two porches which is very handy, but we bought it specifically as a 1 person + 1 big dog tent. In this respect it has been serving us very well, so this led us on to purchasing the SC1 for solo use.

First Night Out With The SC1 

I chose a pitch which would catch the weather a bit. Kinder has been pretty dry of late and water can be a problem up there, so I went over towards Brown Knoll instead. I knew that would be dry too, but I also knew I could filter some water on the way and not have to carry it too far.

Ok, so it wasn’t a particularly inspired pitch for the night, but it served a purpose and I was pretty sure I wouldn’t get disturbed.

The tent goes up quickly and easily – outer first then add the inner, although you can keep it attached as one if you feel like it.

These tents have a couple of really nifty door features. One of them is the way you can clip the door open, by hooking it onto the ‘exoskeleton’. I can do this, and unclip it, from a kneeling position inside, so it’s very useful.

This next photo shows this on the SC2 aswell:

It also has a way of folding and fastening the bottom few inches of the outer door out of the way, and if you combine this with undoing the top of the zip a little, it creates a reasonable amount of ventilation. This makes it about as safe as it can possibly be, if you need to cook (very carefully of course) in the closed porch in really bad weather. I forgot to take a picture of this feature last night though, but here it is on the SC2:

Once inside, the SC1 feels a touch smaller than the Enan. I think this is partly due to the inner walls sloping inwards more. The headroom is also a bit lower. I still had no problem fitting all my gear in, however, in my usual organised manner…..

I pretty much empty my rucksack and place most of the contents alongside my Xtherm, and the empty-ish sack, boots, water, stove, etc. fit nicely in the porch. There is also a good 6 inches or so spare above the head end of my sleeping mat, where I tend to store my food bags.

I had dinner and settled down for the duration. Sitting on my mat I was comfy enough, and spent a couple of hours reading.

Well I can’t say that the weather overnight was Wilder Than A Wild Thing, but there were some heavy showers and a lively breeze from time to time. The tent was absolutely fine in this and I slept well.

All was still and claggy when I awoke.

I had a leisurely breakfast, then decided to put to the tent to the final test for this trip. Could I pack my rucksack inside?

So, I pretended it was still throwing it down, closed the outer door, left the inner door open to give me a bit more space and set to.

It was no problem whatsoever, and I was soon ready to take my pack outside and take the actual tent down.

I took the inner out first.

The inner and the outer were placed in separate bags, which both fit neatly together in the zipped pocket on the front of my pack.

The poles and pegs are in another bag, which I put in one of the side pockets of the rucksack.

And setting off home, the sun started to make an appearance.

A Few Further Thoughts

I like the tent. The slightly smaller feel compared to the Enan is of no consequence to me. Everything fitted in fine, I had no problems doing anything and it was warm and cozy.

Geoff is off to the Lakes next Tuesday for a week and taking it with him, so we’ll see how he gets on with it too. He’s not much taller than me anyway, so I imagine he’ll be ok with it. There won’t be space for him to use his Thermarest Chair Kit inside, mind…

If you were much taller than me however, but still liked the style etc of the tent, I suspect the SC2, with it’s greater headroom and oodles of space, may well suit better. There would, of course, then be the extra bit of weight there to take into consideration.

On the other hand, if you have been used to using a Laser Comp (which the SC tents are based on) or a Zephyros – which I think probably have a similar amount of space inside – you may well be perfectly happy with it.

The SC1 weighs 1.7kg and the SC2 weighs 2.3kg.


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Arctic Sweden – Sarek 2017 – Part Two

Day Five

Day 5

Last night’s pitch had been particularly mozzified. Luckily, it hadn’t been too warm to eat in the tent. Geoff is particularly skilled at cooking in the porch by sticking his hands through a mega small opening in the inner door zip. Having freeze dried food which only needs boiling water adding to it obviously helps!

We set off quite early today with the plan to get a few more miles under our belts, initially following the route back through the forest alongside Stuor and Unna Dahta.

Geoff did take a wrong turning at one point, but I managed to shout him back before he’d gone too far.


On reaching the junction with the Kungsleden again, we stopped for a long lunch break before turning north east, to explore in that direction for a couple of days.

The weather suddenly turned bitter while we were eating. I put my jacket on and my hands were so cold, that as they warmed up when we started moving again, my finger ends hurt like mad.

And then the rain started. And got heavier. And got heavier. We covered a couple more miles until we were alongside the eastern end of Stuor Dahta before deciding we’d had enough for the day. By this time, the area wasn’t conducive to flat, grassy camping spots, but we found somewhere that would do.

Thank goodness for outer-pitch-first tents! I dread to think how awful it would have been trying to pitch in those conditions in our old Voyager that we used to use in the States.


I went down to the lake for water.

It was only about 2pm and the rain wasn’t due to stop till after midnight. It never let up.

We played I Spy for a while, but Geoff is so awkward – constantly using abstract nouns – and even verbs. He won, 4 games to 3, but only by stretching the rules.

The next game – The Chain – was much better. Far less competitive. Anyone who listens to Radcliffe and Maconie will know this one. You say a song title and the artist, and the other person has to come up with another song plus artist that links to it in some way. (You can’t have the same artist twice on the run.)

…..’Boston Tea Party’ by the Sensational Alex Harvey Band >>> ‘Dellila’ by Tom Jones (do you know the link there?) >>> ‘I Won’t Back Down’ by Tom Petty >>> ‘Man In Black’ by Johnny Cash (do you know the link there, too?)……

This was much more fun and kept us occupied till tea time.

We couldn’t think of anything else to play after that.


Day Six

Day 6

Thankfully, the rain had stopped by the time we set off this morning. We contiued along the Kungsleden, aiming for the Parte Hut.

This was actually one of the roughest sections of the whole trip.

The wet rocks and tree roots made for unbelievably slow going.

We never intended to spend the night at the hut, but called in to drop some rubbish off.

The warden was very pleasant and chatty, gave us a drink of strawberry juice – it was rather delicious – and suggested we might be able to pitch our tent up a bit further round the lake. (Geoff was suitably shocked at how much it would cost us to pitch at the hut, around £20 per night, so that wasn’t going to happen.)


So we carried on just a tiny bit further and found the most sloping pitch of the trip.

For once, though, the mozzies didn’t stop us having a relaxing brew outside.


Day Seven

Day 7

I’d slept surprisingly well, considering I’d had to belay myself from a nearby tree to stop me sliding out of bed.

Today’s plan was to leave the tent where it was and walk with day stuff only, to a high point about 4 miles away.

We were aiming for a saddle in between two tops – Favnoajvve and Huomnasj.

It didn’t disappoint.

A group of reindeer made the moment complete.

Once again, walking back to the tent in the afternoon, we felt quite privileged.



Day Eight

Day 8

Another dry day, and we aimed to get back within two or three miles of Kvikkjokk.

When we reached the really-rough-underfoot section again, we continued on where we’d left off, with The Chain.

……’Blue Hawaii’ by Elvis Presley >>> ‘Wild Thing’ by The Trogs (get it?) >>> ‘Love Is All Around’ by Wet Wet Wet >>> ‘With A Little Help From My Friends’ by Joe Cocker……..

And tonight’s spot won the prize for the most mozzified pitch of the trip, by far.


Day Nine

Day 9

And so, we walked the last couple of miles into Kvikkjokk, timing it just right for lunch in the STF Hostel.

I was so ready for that meal. Eight days of freeze dried food does take its toll and I’d been fantasizing about chips for days!

The night was spent pitched in the village and we were up the next morning in time to catch the 5:20am bus back to Lulea. Then it was back to the Arctic North Hotel once more, before flying home the next day.

A grand trip, with lots of great memories.

Geoff’s ramblings about part two of our trip, are here.

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Arctic Sweden – Sarek 2017 – Part One

Of course when you book a ‘cheaper’ flight to somewhere, you don’t always get to go the most direct route. Three flights it took us to get to Lulea – Manchester to Oslo, Oslo to Stockholm then Stockholm to Lulea. None of them were much more than an hour long though, so we still arrived early evening.

The logistics of having to buy gas before the next leg of our journey meant that we had to spend two nights here, so the following day we explored the town, trying on loads of Fjallraven trousers in the two big outdoor shops. I also had a good look at every different model of Osprey rucksack I could find – after all I might be thinking of purchasing another….

We still only ended up buying gas though!


Day One

Days 1 and 2

Having set the alarm for 6am, we caught the 8am train for a two hour journey to Murjek.

From Murjek, we had another four hours on a bus to finally get us to Kvikkjokk, our jumping off point for Sarek, and being mid afternoon by then, we didn’t plan on walking very far to our first camp.

Just over two miles got us to a nice enough spot. Some mosquitoes about, but nowhere near as bad as last time I was here in 2015, with James.

Day Two

We had a variety of possible routes planned, all around a particular circuit. Plenty of slack in the plans meant that in theory, anything could easily be altered, depending on how fast/slow we were moving or how hard/easy the terrain was.


Since being rather poorly a few weeks back however, with suspected Lyme Disease, I was still having the occasional Difficult Day, so principally to cater for me we turned the trip into more of a Slackpack than a Mega Challenge, ending up doing essentially two ‘out and back’ trips rather than the original circuit taking in the bush whacking jungle of either the Rapa Valley or the Gallakjahka Valley.

We’d started our route out of Kvikkjokk on the Kungsleden, but hadn’t gone far today before we turned off and left it for a few days, seeking out the wilder terrain of Sarek itself.

It was warm and the mosquitoes were out in force. Paramo jackets were very useful as a bit of armour, but our Mosiguard repellent (all natural, not Deet) is surprisingly good. We’ve used it successfully for many years.

The trail took us through a forest, past the two lakes of Unna Dahta and Stuor Dahta, but the water was hardly ever visible, due to the denseness of the vegetation.

You certainly don’t rush anywhere around here, constantly having to be aware of where you’re placing your feet. Tree roots and boulders abound.

Eventually reaching the Boarek bogland by mid-afternoon, we started to look for a decent pitch for the night.


Amazing views and a fresh breeze – the mosquitoes were in abeyance.


Day Three

Day 3

A lively wind overnight heralded a bit of a change to the weather. Cooler and more comfortable. Fresh snow on the distant high tops.

It’s a good three miles across the bog, before arriving at the first big river crossing.

The crossing is actually where two lakes join and, although wide, thankfully doesn’t have too much of a current.

Once on the other side, we were back in trees again. Slowly climbing through them, we by-passed the Sami village of Boarek. Once again, the vegetation is so dense that you can hardly see any of the settlement, or even any paths through to it. We did, however, suddenly come across a sign fastened to a pole.

Not knowing anything about Alex Hamberg, we read it then walked on by, musing at how few people would be likely to be passing here over the next few days anyway. Probably only two or three each day I suspect!

We continued on our way, slowly climbing, now over completely trackless terrain above the Sami settlement.

We were initially aiming for the river of Gasskagarsajagasj, hoping to find an easy way across.

Wandering up and down, an easy crossing was not immediately obvious, so we decided to follow it up higher where we could see snow. Maybe there would be a snowbridge. Sure enough there was and, crossing it, we noticed plenty of reindeer poo. Obviously it was their way over the river as well!

The weather was getting wilder and wetter by now, so we decided to stop for the day. Our normal pitching routine is to do the tent outer together, then Geoff does the inner and starts to sort stuff inside while I go and filter all the water we need for the night and the next morning.

I couldn’t see any easy way down to the river for water, but found a tiny pool in the rocks at the side. That would have to do.


Day Four

Day 4

Well, it wasn’t the best night’s sleep – the weather had been wilder than a wild thing! The tent had taken a battering, but had stood up well to it all – as it should have done of course. Morning brought another grey day with more fresh snow dusted on the tops, but at least the wind had dropped a lot.

A group of reindeer appeared. Maybe they wanted to cross the river and we were in the way! Geoff crept outside to try and capture some photos.

The light wasn’t so good.


We breakfasted, then re-crossed the river and went back in search of the sun.

This time when passing the sign about visiting the research cabin of Axel Hamberg, we decided to go and see what it was all about.

Apparently, this man had been a professor at Uppsala University, studying glaciology, geology and all sorts of other related things, including meteorology. In 1895 he had built a cabin in Boarek and spent 36 years there, scientifically exploring the high alpine area of Sarek. Since then, the Sami people – along with other scientists connected with Laponia Heritage – have looked after his research cabin, keeping it in pristine condition. This was the first time it had ever been open to the public.

We followed the arrow into the trees, found a group of people sat around a campfire, and were given a lovely, warm welcome. One of the guys was actually living in the cabin for the few days they were all there, the others were camping. We were shown around.

It was absolutely wonderful inside.

We were then invited by the Sami couple from Boarek who were there, to join them all for coffee and cinnamon buns. What a privilege. A space was created around the fire and a reindeer skin was placed on the ground for us to sit on. Coffee and buns were served, and we stayed there for about an hour discussing all sorts – from Sarek, to weather, to families, to Brexit and everything in between. Amazing. It was definitely a highlight of the trip.

All too soon, it was time to move on.

Back over the first river crossing again before finding a very mosquito-ey pitch for the night, a couple of miles further on.


Geoff’s ramblings about the first part of our trip, are here.



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