I didn’t want to, but I left the ferry in Harstad, leaving a trail of wet footprints (I accept no blame – reception denied my request to borrow a towel). My trip back to Jokkmokk was supposed to be easy, but having been sold a ticket, I was told by the conductor that bikes were forbidden on the trains. So, mumbling and dejected I got back on my bike, of course starting with a 15-mile climb. I was tired and feeling sorry for myself in the cold rain but I was rescued from my low by 2 fantastic people, heroes in fact: Christer and Ula.
Â
Christer spotted me from his caravan as I sheltered from the rain, he invited me to join him in the warmth and put on a fresh pot of coffee. He then mixed it 50:50 with vodka and we drank. When the vodka was gone, we drank tequila and after that his last beers, my mood was lighter and I was pissed. 12 hours later, I met Ula, who was another train conductor but a far superior one to my previous encounter. He took pity on me and allowed me on the train, an act for which I would have liked to hug him except I was too scared he might kick me off again.
Â
So, I finally made it back to Jokkmokk, where Bish had really settled in (I talked about getting a pizza and he gave me the low down of the best and worst ones in town). Two days later, we dragged ourselves from the hospitality of the Forsbergs and are now just down the road in Boden, I am happily and firmly back to easy cycling days. We will soon be in Finland but tomorrow is midsummer and is celebrated throughout the day so we are almost obliged to stay.