We went canoeing on Ahja river with our Estonian friends.

Vesipapp arranged the tour for us and were very helpful. We met them at Kiidjärve, where we got our canoes and oars and life jackets – and instructions.

Also plastic jugs for scooping out water from the canoes, but my boat mate and I soon had our division of labour down so well (left side of the boat for her, right side for me, and swapping halfway through the trip) that there was very rarely a need to switch oars from one side to the other. Our canoe barely got a tiny trickle of water at the bottom – nothing you could scoop up. But the teams with more… ehum… athletic paddling styles got rather wetter.

We started at Kiidjärve and had a bit of lazy paddling down the river to begin with. Then a long dammed lake, which was easier to navigate but required more paddling. At the end of the lake at Taevaskoja a representative from Vesipapp helped us carry the canoes over the dam and get them in the river again. From there on it was easy but exciting going: a gentle river, but with constant bends, underwater rocks, logs both under and over the water, low-hanging trees, etc. And beautiful views!

Note to future me: the 12 km trip from Kiidjärve to Porgandi, which was supposed to take 3 hours, took us 4, even though we only had a short break in the middle at the dam. The shorter, 9 km route to Otteni would probably have been enough.

Credit goes to Ingrid for the photos with me in them. It took some manoeuvring to hand over the camera from one canoe to another without risking dropping it!

We used to travel with colouring books and crates of Lego for the kids. Now it’s my hobbies that take up space in the car.

I brought my cardigan project with me. I did consider leaving it at home and just doing socks for 10 days, because they are much more portable. But the socks are mostly time-fillers, whereas I want to actually finish this cardigan.

I’ve found nothing that beats a good-quality wicker basket for storing knitting projects. It protects the knitting and doesn’t get damaged by knitting needles or scissors. Unlike a bag, everything is clearly visible and there are no nooks and corners that eat up small things like markers or pieces of scrap yarn.

Apparently Rally Estonia, part of the World Rally Championship, is happening in Tartu right now, and Ingrid wanted to see it. Adrian and I weren’t interested, so we went dog walking with a friend instead. Although we did watch some of the rally on TV, and it wasn’t entirely boring, but the half hour we saw was enough for me.

On the ferry to Tallinn. After two missed summers due to covid, we’re on our way to Estonia again! Eric stays at home for some peace and quiet, and to take care of Nysse.

After two years of no travelling, all of a sudden thousands and thousands of Swedes are trying to renew their passports all at the same time. This surge came as a complete surprise to the Swedish police, so the queues have been ridiculous.

I checked our passports in March for our travels this summer – four months in advance of the first trip, which I thought was plenty of time. Eric’s and Adrian’s needed renewing. The first available time for a renewal appointment was in May. In Östersund, 6 hours away from Stockholm by train. No chance of getting an appointment anywhere closer in reasonable time. People were literally writing bots to monitor the booking site for cancellations. Since the production time was supposed to be 5 to 6 weeks, that appointment in May was annoying but OK, so we went with that.

Then in early summer one of the two passport production machines in Finland broke down. Of course our passports didn’t get finished in the promised 5 to 6 weeks. Now we have less than one week to go before our trip to Estonia, and no passports.

Luckily temporary passports are a thing. They’re expensive, valid for a single trip, cannot be issued more than 72 hours in advance, and involve yet more queueing. So that’s what we spent this evening doing – arranging a temporary passport for Adrian at Arlanda airport. I’d been reading horror stories about the experience – people literally queueing overnight, or fainting in the queue due to the heat – so I was prepared for anything. Even not getting a passport at all and having to cancel the trip. But we had luck with the timing, and the queueing system has been greatly improved here, so we were in and out in half an hour, with a shiny pink passport in hand. It remains to be seen whether the real passports arrive in time for our next trip, or if we get to spend another evening queueing here.

I assumed that most of the police station would be off limits for photography but that an anonymous-looking institutional staircase would be OK.

No photo.

A full day of travelling, from Lillehammer via Oslo and Karlstad to Stockholm. The bus from Oslo to Karlstad was delayed but this time my buffer was enough to allow me to make the connection. The delay was due to the bus being pulled in for a customs control on the border. Everybody off the bus, take your luggage, march past the sniffer dog. Almost kind of exciting, but also very dull.

The last day. 23 km. We heard rumours of there being no snow beyond Nordseter so we might have to take the bus from there. That would have been a sad end to our trip. But the wonderful Skisporet.no app showed a live view of track groomers passing along those trails as we were having breakfast, so our worries were relieved.

The hotel at Hornsjø was a strange one. Large, nearly empty, mostly unrenovated since the late 1970s by the looks of it, only reachable by a gravel/dirt road – like straight out of the Shining. Bathroom walls covered with nubbly greenish beige wallpaper, broken window latches, frayed carpet edges. We were the only group staying here tonight, and while there were three or four other guests here as well, I think the staff outnumbered us. But the beds were decent and the food was good, and there were no actual murderers in sight.

Due to the freshly groomed tracks (most of the way) we actually had really good snow today. But also a lot of other people, now that we’re so much closer to civilization, of all kinds. There were some on backcountry skis like ours, but many were out with no packs and on their skinny little skis, racing along like the wind. Also several bunches of serious skiers in matching lycra outfits and with matching brightly coloured poles, racing along even faster.

The last section of trail today went through the woods near Lillehammer. Narrowish paths with natural rather than machine-made trails, and quite a lot of winding downhill slopes, made for fun skiing.

We didn’t ski all the way to town – a local bus took us down the last kilometres. And then we were in town and suddenly skiing and snowy mountains felt far away. I’m already looking forward to next year’s trip.

(Central Lillehammer, by the way, mostly consists of shops for outdoor equipment and clothing, but also boasts three shops selling wool and yarn.)

19 km, 277 m of ascent, 4 hours. I had a late start because I had to wait for the luggage transport to Hornsjø, and only went out skiing at 11:30.

The wind today was ferocious. It was blowing from the north mostly, which was lucky for the group skiing south and south-east to Hornsjø from Vetåbua – had they had the wind in their faces for 40 km, their day would have been quite horrible. Now they were pushed along and barely had to do any work at times, as they told me afterwards. Had I known in advance that the conditions would be like this, I would have gone with them to Vetåbua, but you can never be sure about the weather in the mountains.

For me there was only the option of out and back, which meant going out against the wind and coming back with it at my back. And what a difference the wind (and the hills) made! The same 10 km took me 2:30 going out, against the wind and generally uphill, and exactly half the time coming back, with the wind and mostly downhill.

The outward half of the day was actually not particularly enjoyable. I would probably have given up and turned back earlier, if I had been able to find any kind of shelter at all. Now I kept going all the way to the little hamlet of Lienden where there was a café according to the map. Not that I actually expected any café to be open at this time of the year, but where there’s a café, there are at least buildings of some sort, with walls that I can shelter behind.

I had my lunch sitting in the sun in the lee of the hut. And then I came out and took three steps to the left and was almost blown over by the wind again. But when I started skiing, I was almost flying along.

Friisvegen day trip. 27 km, 437 m of ascent.
Today and tomorrow the Troll Trail leaves civilization for an unmanned DNT hut. From Friisvegen to Vetåbua is a short day of about 20 km, but tomorrow from Vetåbua to Hornsjø is 40 km, which would be the longest I’ve ever skied with a pack. Plus the packs will be heavier because there will be no luggage transport – Vetåbua is not in reach of any roads. And on top of all that, tomorrow is going to have really strong winds.

Both John and I feel hesitant about my ability to do all that tomorrow. Or rather, he’s not sure I can do it, and I’m not sure I would enjoy it. So, plan B: I will stay at Friisvegen for one more night, and have a day of skiing on my own. Transport tomorrow morning to Hornsjø, along with the luggage, followed by more skiing on my own.

I followed the group for the first 7 km. When they turned left towards Vetåbua, I turned right towards the village of Skotten. I did a circuit there (prepared tracks through undulating woodlands all the way) before I headed back for the hotel, and ended up skiing a fair bit more than the rest of the group. On the other hand, I didn’t have to carry water and firewood or cook dinner, unlike them.

Today I had the best snow I’ve seen all week. All the previous days have been quite icy, but the tracks today were relatively freshly groomed so there was actual snow that I could get an actual grip on. And it was quite nice to not have to think about keeping up with the group. I could stop for photos whenever I wanted, and faff with my clothes as often as I wanted.