Third gear

So after a week at my parents’, I returned to Oregon for exactly two and a half days. I unpacked, re-packed, cleaned my apartment, examined some specimens, took care of some paperwork, met with my labmate, made a poster, and generally ran around like a maniac. Totally normal.

Landing in Tromsø

Then I hopped on a plane, and I have essentially been on one ever since. I flew to San Francisco, then Frankfurt, then Oslo, then Tromsø. I think it’s poetic that every time I fly to Norway, I have to go through Germany, because it ties together my European experiences so well. In fact, my incredibly long route so far hasn’t seemed as strenuous as it probably should, and I think that’s because it’s all been through familiar territory. Germany and Norway both feel like home to me, and northern Europe is well-covered in my footprints.

Right now, I’m in Tromsø, Norway, where I have about an 18-hour reprieve between flights. No, that does not mean I’m stuck in an airport, thank goodness. A friend offered that I could stay at his house for the night, even though he’s out of town. I’m currently camped out at his kitchen table, stuffing my face with smoked salmon and drinking in the gorgeous fjord view in front of me.

I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised at how easily I floated back into my Norwegian self. As soon as I landed in Oslo and heard the sing-songy voices of the blonde-haired people around me, it was like someone pressed the clutch in my brain and shifted into a new gear. I couldn’t help but smile at the sights, the sounds that at one time were foreign to me but now feel familiar and warm. By the time I landed in Tromsø, I was craving salmon and had the urge to trade my cotton sweatshirt for something wool. I watched out the window as the plane descended among mountain peaks, aiming for the narrow island where Tromsø lay waiting. I felt my pulse quicken, felt my breaths lengthen, already anticipating the fresh mountain air outside. Later, as I wandered around town in search of food and internet, I found joy in reading the signs around me, all the words I have learned to recognize but am still hopelessly unable to pronounce.

The view from the friend's house where I stayed in Tromsø

Tomorrow, I’ll return to the airport and fly north to Svalbard, the Arctic archipelago which I’m pretty sure is my favorite place on Earth. I’ll stay there for 6 weeks, all the while working to finish the experiment I started last year. You know, the one with the settlement plates and the SCUBA divers – the whole reason I came to Norway in the first place. If you don’t remember the Svalbard settlement plate project, refresh your memory here, here, here, and here. By the time I’m finished with the study, I should be able to compare recruitment of sessile benthic invertebrates in three different fjords, at three different depths, and in three different time periods (winter, summer, and full-year). The results will highlight differences between seasons and between Atlantic- and Arctic-influenced fjords. 

I’m so grateful for where I am right now. For the beautiful fjord in front of me, for the anticipation of good results in Svalbard, for the chance to visit Stavanger once my field work is over. I’m grateful for my family back in the States, for my friends scattered across the world, for the mountains and the air and the relaxation I feel rolling through my body. Norway, old friend, it’s so good to see you. I’m back.