Walking before running

... or how we'll certainly have none of that here. Naturally one could read the earlier entries of the blog and extrapolate a style and a vector for what the content should be, but where's the fun in that. So the mission being: write a blog entry. And brownie points if it is somehow related to sailing. And possibly Norway. We'll see.

Landing in Gardermoen I can't help but appreciate the ubiquitoues nature of MP3 players and their ability to block the general chatter in a plane. Makes flying that much more pleasant, especially when you're not even treated to a sandwich during the flight. But Norway is notoriously cheap, so naturally a 126 kr hamburger at Burger King is again a slap in the face for not remembering this. But at least the trains run on time, so off to Rivendell it was to meat Legolas and Hugo Weaving. Or Arendal to meet some other possible elves. I wonder if Merja and Saku have been granted crossbows yet.

The Norwegian summer had apparently taken a turn for even warmer and with global warming in full gear and with the benefit of hindsight, bringing shorts or linen trousers could have been a smart move. But thick jeans and technical clothing it was, alas. But regardless, Arendal looked decently nice and the organic nature of how Norwegian towns seem to have grown is a nice departure from towns built in grid layouts. Supposedly Arendal had also been hosting a sailing competition prior to my arrival, which had apparently caused some close encounters between Duo and the competitors. But the boat seemed to be in more or less appropriate shape by the time I got there. But to be entirely honest, this was roughly the entirety of what I was able to take with me from my Arendal experience, as the sleep deprivation from earlier escapades promised an early night and 8 hours and 14 minutes of sleep with a "sleep quality" of 99%, the statistics courtesy of Fitbit and the quantified self revolution.

On Sunday being the competent and savvy sailors we were we did some motorized sailing without the sails from Arendal to a nearby town of Lyngör. A local sign and Wikipedia confirm that this was the resting place of the Dano-Norwegian naval empire during the Napoleonic wars. In the contemporary world its role was to be an idyllic small Norwegian village with a sail repair shop and an ad hoc improvised football field. After this detour we finally found our way to Risör. Ironically the closest to sea sickness thus far (i.e. after the first day of motorboating) has been gotten by sitting and swaying at the Risör guest harbour. So for this improptu sailor it's going to be another early night of sleep statistics gathering ahead.

(Note: the editor has been given the full right to devise and arrange pictures for this entry at her will.)