Every year in the 2nd week of February I pack my sleigh and set out for a weeklong journey over the mountains from Sweden to reach the openingday of Røros winter fair in Norway. In my company I usually have 10-15 horses and 30-40 men and women who travel together. It is amazing, truly magical in so many aspects. My only regret has been how few people that are able to share the experience with me. This blogg is an attempt to give you all a glipse of magic and perhaps one day some of you will feel the urge to set out on a journey of your own...

Sunday, February 20, 2011

Sunday 13/2-2011

Time to pack up again, everything is frozen and stiff in the sleigh even our vodka has turned into slush and the temperature has dropped to -38*C , which means it will drop a bit more before sunrise and we will cross the lakes in temperatures around -40*C. There’s hardly any wind so both horses and people are doing fine as long as we are moving and keeping an eye on each other. We are heading for a morning Mass held at Funäsdalens cultural heritage park. We bring the blessings with us and look forward to start the steep climb up the mountainside. Cheeks are glowing, Hair all messy and we’ve had to throw furecoats and hats during the climb. I doubt there will be any problems keeping warm throughout the day. There’s another stretch along the mainroad today but it looks like most of the cars on the road have come to meet us and are driving along for a while. It’s icy and easy for the horses to pull but it’s difficult not to slide over on the wrong side of the road.

It’s a beautiful picture to see the Norwegian mountains in the distance. Thats where we are heading tonight, to Vauldalens hotel on the Swedish Norwegian boarder. Our hosts Jorid and Ole-peder are also celebrating their 30th anniversary at the hotel so we can prepare for another night of festivities.

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About Me

I am a Swedish Forbonde and archaeologist. I grew up in Klövsjö in Sweden and I am officially living in Oslo -Norway but at the moment I'm studying in Gothenburg while spending a large part of the year working in Iceland. So... home is usually defined by where my backpack last was unpacked and part of the year that is in a sleigh somewhere in the mountains between Norway and Sweden

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