Too early for summer, too late for winter...

How one is supposed to know what season it is, let alone what *time* it is, is beyond me. I woke up at 514 this morning with the sun streaming through the Levlors. It was just lovely--SUN...then less sun...SUN...then less sun. See, in an arc such as the sun makes at the ARC-tic circle, about every five minutes, it manages to peek through another one of those Levolors. Then it disappears again, until it finds another little slit to peek through. I donät know how Trevor did it, but he slept through nigh the entire annoyance...maybe itäs the book heäs reading. I mean shoot, mine is about a serial killer who is avenging his sisteräs molesters in Southern Sweden; his is about a fisherman in Iceland who is essentially a libertarian and a grouchy husband. Maybe you can see while I've been kept up at night, and Trevor--not so much.

Anyhow, as we drifted northward in this great country that essentially speaks German with elongated vowels and missing/extra letters (sallad, telefon...), we found much to our dismay that in the beginning of June, a great bit of Sweden is closed!

Definitely in the top 10 of "reasons to come to Sweden" is the Ice Hotel, which is near Kiruna, our first stop after a super long train ride. (I'm still feeling the sway of those tracks as I write--it's like being drunk for free!...or rather, the price of an overnight train ticket.) The Ice Hotel is naturally most impressive in the winter, when beds are made of ice, drink glasses are made of ice, and patrons are kept warm by monstrous bear skins and awesome sub-zero sleeping bags.

The almost nice thing is that in summer, which apparently it isn´t yet, there is at least a warehouse of sorts that preserves some of the parts of the experience. So as I looked with great anticipation to my vodka on ice, on top of ice, surrounded by ice...the nice girl at the tourist information desk informed us that the even the museum was closed! An uff da, and I´m not even in Norway yet. (Not to worry, tomorrow, we´ll make it to Narvik, and I will use my "uff da" with reckless abandon!)

All was not lost though. What was open, for the first day of the season was the Sami museum, which is also in Jukkasjarvi where the Ice Hotel *should* be, but luckily, it has not yet melted.
Upon entering the grounds, I noticed a heavenly smell of something akin to a mesquite fire.
My immediate thoughts were "Where's the warmth? Where´s the bearskins??" And there they were in a tall teepee, indeed with benches covered in bearskins and two guys just hangin' out.

One of them was a bear of a man, scraggly gray hair and a worn bandana around his neck, well broken in hiking boots, and some rugged outdoor pants. But wow, he knew his stuff--about Sami culture, and American culture too! (American Indian of course; we're talking indigenous people here!)

Ah me, this man and his talk about Sami culture was my favorite part of yesterday. And yet, I believe Trevor will be here in 2 minutes to tell me he is deathly hungry.

So we end thusly--Mr. huggable mountain man from Northern Sweden talked a little too long and the bus that stopped right outside the museum took off without us. Mr. HMM thought he could catch the bus, so we drove 70km per hour on back roads to try and catch up, but by the time we had, we were back in Kiruna. It was a free cab ride by Santa in the off season.

oh, and just one more thing! Tonight we are in Abisko and we will take the lift at 10 o'clock to see the midnight sun from the top of the mountain. it is literally a lift, not a gondala, so we are really expected to freeze our tush this time. Luckily, they provide hot drinks at the top.

Now I'M deathly hungry! Bon apetit!