The last photos from Cartagena

 Everything colonial and romantic

 Within the old city walls everything is too beautiful to be true (and outside it is the opposite)

 But we were living in a fairy tale and drinking tea in luxurious patios in posh hotels

 With all the flora you could imagine, all more verdant than you could capture in a photo

And with all the other tourists from all over the world

Better late than never, eh? And now, almost two months later, I'm on my way on a new holiday. The main reason I do not post here is that I try to keep my work related stuff on the youth delegate blog, and to be honest I don't take that many photos outside of work. Let's see if I manage to get some on this holiday.

Cartagena (aka My Caribbean Holiday)

 There were beaches: normal beaches, white beaches with blue sea, overcrowded beaches and almost empty beaches (the non-white ones with a slightly less blue sea), and we visited them all

 There were people, vendors, children, and lots of waves and sunshine

There was also a dad, who came all the way from Norway to Colombia to visit me

As my co-delegate Johanne went home to visit her family in Norway for Christmas, I stayed on in Cali, working almost until New Year's Eve. Then I hopped on a plane northwards, met up with my dad in Bogotá, the capital, and hopped on a new plane towards Cartagena. We stayed about ten days in the sweltering heat and absurd humidity, going on bike tours, beach trips and museum visits, and getting to know pretty much every corner (and café) in the old town.

One big party, my grandmother's 75th

 we started off filling the table with as much food as possible

 Including my mum's paella and my aunt's couscous salad (not pictured here)

 Before we moved on to cakes and more cakes

 more cakes, and one grandmother Eva

 then, next day, we had more food

 we picked some of the first apples of the season

 and my dad taught his granddaughter how to use a knife to peel apples

I don't have any photos from the two volleyball games we had, or from going to the beach with my cousins, my uncle and Dina to fish crabs and then throw them into the sea again, or from swimming with my niece and nephew, or playing cards with my aunt and cousin, or anything else, really, because I was too busy doing it. This is a good thing. My camera mostly came out at meal times, while we were waiting for all thirteen people to sit down in one place together at the same time. We also had a lot of rain and almost-rain when we stayed inside, getting almost-bored and reading books. Anyway, a good weekend was had by all.

Tea, of course

 Last Saturday, my parents and I went to a tea garden in the city centre

 And guess what, we had tea

I could probably write volumes about tea and my relationship with it. I started drinking tea when I was thirteen, although it had nothing to do with tea really, and was more hot drinks made with fruity things inside tea bags. I started drinking black tea (what English people call "tea") a few years later, I know I must have done, but I can't remember much of it before going to study in England. Nowadays, I visit people and ask for milk in my tea, and they look at me with a strange look until I explain "Oh, but you know, I've lived in England", and suddenly it's all right. It's still a quirk, but at least they know why I'm acting so strange.

A week of summer time

 When we had all the water melon

 and a barbecue at Karoline's house, eating fish burgers and sausages but mostly water melon

 With Ida,

 Christine,

 Karoline,

and myself (this last from when it had started to get cold)

These past weeks have been amazing for sunny weather, with temperatures we hardly ever see here in the north, with 25 to 30 degrees celsius, hardly any wind, and a lot of confused northerners. It has led me to eat more water melon than I thought was humanly possible. I haven't had any work either, so I've had plenty of days reading books in the sun and thinking secret thoughts about when I can go inside without feeling like I'm shirking my duties (as a northerner, it is my duty to stay outside whenever it is sunny and warm, because it happens so seldom, and we must enjoy what we can before the sky is overcast again). 

Our barbecue was one week ago, luckily, this weeks looks set to be more overcast (I am looking shiftily around the room while writing this, in case anyone records my treacherous thoughts).

Ringvassøya, Skarsfjorden, Klokkarholmen

 On a family trip on Ringvassøya (Ringvass Island) outside of Tromsø

 we passed this, which I thought was man-made, is a vertebrae from a whale (it's big enough to sit on)

 my dad ate his salmon on a flat stone, because who needs plates when you have stones lying around

 We admired the view from Klokkarholmen

 and admired it in another direction

 We had lots of coffee and laughter (this is my cousin and my aunt)

and we went to a beach with deceivingly clear and inviting water and beautiful sand

Skarsfjorden is where my dad and his three siblings grew up, and Klokkarholmen where my granddad grew up. We all like to walk there in summer (there is no road, and there are no people living there permanently anymore), but we always seem to do so at different times, seeing that we are four families within our family, and several smaller groups inside these families again. This year, my dad and cousins hatched a plan for a long walk, an overnight stay, and inviting all the siblings and their children, grandchildren etc. We ended up being eleven people, barbecuing out there on Saturday night, talking, laughing, eating, laughing a bit more, and sleeping in tents for the night. The next day, we went past a beautiful beach on our way home, and had another barbecue there, tested the beautiful but oh-so-cold water, and went home. 

It was extremely tiring to walk that far with tents and sleeping bags and all the food, but very worth it. This is the place that we all connect with, that is deeply ingrained in our minds and our family history. I also just enjoy spending time with my family, getting to know them better, and laughing about all the silly things.

Sunshine and activities

 I got to try the zip line one day when there were guests doing it

 We went kayaking, horse riding, and quad biking some of the other days

 But my last day there, we went to some caves up the hillside

 Me looking stunning (no) and Jenni looking brilliant (yes)

Jenni, Robbie and Mikie doing their best to look relaxed and utterly cool

On the days we didn't just plonk down by the pool at the end of the day, to enjoy the last rays of sun, we (the volunteers) would try to do some of the activities on the centre. I did actually do both horse riding and quad biking, even though I was frightened by both. Climbing up to the caves was my favourite though, closely followed by the kayaking. There's nothing like scrambling up a hill, hoping that you've chosen the right path, managing to get there in less time than you imagined and having an amazing view as a result. Oh, and discovering the cave is actually a bat cave, with no bats, but lots of tiny skeletons lying about (I might be the only one who finds this interesting but hey).

And then...

 Winter was properly here on Tuesday morning

And today, after the winter winds have settled a little, it's even looking quite pretty

I am excited by the snow this year, seeing that I was away most of the winter, and haven't been close to  snow since January. I am also already exhausted by the snow, realising that it means six months of hoping our neighbour will come and clear our driveway in the morning, of starting every car journey ten minutes earlier in case you have to clear off the ice and snow, of getting stuck, of darkness, and so on.

Snow is very nice at midday, when you have daylight, when you don't have to go outside, and you have your book and your tea and your sofa and your cat. Other than that it can be a bother. I remember that. Still, at this moment I can enjoy it. (It is midday. I am inside. I have a lot of the aforementioned things.)

Throwing Northern Lights at you

 Because tonight, as I was sat by my computer, in the very lit-up house

  My dad sent me a text saying "Show her Northern Lights outside now"

So I woke Sammy up (poor thing) and went out to look at this beauty

And it was amazing. Northern Lights are usually quite nice, kind of small, green waves in the sky, maybe it looks like a small cloud and you're not quite sure whether it actually is the borealis or no. AND THEN you get nights like these, when the Aurora Borealis takes leaps, the castles in the sky exist, and you're afraid to wave at it in case it steals you away, like in the old stories.

These were taken less than an hour ago, just outside my house.

Norway, old friend

A recent, not too good, photo of my most photographed view

So, what's it like? Being back in Norway? This Thursday, I'll have been home six weeks, and it feels like nothing.

Because from the second day I was home, it felt completely natural. Maybe because I've travelled before, lived abroad before, and I've returned to Norway from England about nine times while living there. I'm used to things being different at home than abroad. I expect it.

And I fall, quickly, easily, into old routines of toast and juice in the mornings, eating lots of bread, wearing woollen jumpers, black tights and a warm scarf in July, going to cafés to see friends, going out, staying in, seeing my family again.

Nicaragua is suddenly far away, even though I'm writing about it every day (I am spending a loooong time writing one essay).

It's far away until there's a warm breeze, which is almost unheard of in Tromsø (we're used to cold winds, thank you), and a warm evening walk in the breeze with my mum, and I tell her all about the time at Rocky Point when there was a strong breeze, days on end, and we didn't know whether we would be able to take a boat over the lagoon to visit our friend. 

Then I am filled with sadness, because I want to be both places at the same time, and there are laws of physics that say I can't.

Christine, Christine

Last Saturday, we decided to go for a drive in this very nice car

 We went near the airport

 But you would never guess how close we actually were

 By the beauty of this place

Especially in summer.

Rainy Season

 Started one day, 26th April, ended the same day, 26th April

And there was nothing to do but get everything in and stay inside

The rainy season here is supposed to be between May and December, and it's the "winter" in Nicaragua. Ms Florence kept saying the 15th of May, and she seems to be right. We started with one day of forewarning, the 26th of April. And I am telling you: Rain. It is amazing and astounding and completely unimaginable, how much it's possible to rain in one day, or at once. And this comes from someone who has lived in Falmouth, England. More rain than the most heavy, hard rainfall you can imagine in Falmouth, and we did have some rain there too. I feel bad for the next group coming here, since they will be here between September and December, and get a lot more winter than us.

A trip to the printers

Finished product

 Becoming finished product (the paper to the right has print on it)

 People wearing winter clothes, to assure you that we do have winter

 Scrapped newspapers, with mistakes and such

Either a) an amazing rollercoaster for mice or b) a machine that carries the newspapers from place to place

On Friday, we went with the other volunteers at the student newspaper to the printers, to see how and where they print our newspaper. It's the same printer that does the local papers, and some regional prints of national newspapers. It's such a massive machinery, so much paper, so much work going into making these flimsy dailies - and our fortnightly newspaper. That aside, I just want to be a tiny mouse and go on the amazing rollercoaster.