Nordkapp - the North Cape

I think it's safe to say today didn't quite go as planned.

First off, Nikki wasn't feeling too good. Perhaps a bit of dodgy sushi yesterday, but whatever it was she didn't fancy the trip North, so I got suited and booted and set off on my own, arriving on the pier early enough to grab a seat on Bus #1. Oh, I thought I'd been so clever...

Until this point, where a snow plow barrelling along in the opposite direction forced Bus #1 to pull over to the right to let him pass, causing his rear wheels to leave the road and bury themselves in the soft snow of the verge.

A bit of reversing, another try to drive off, a metre or two of buttock-clenching backsliding, and the driver confirmed we were stuck. "Don't worry. I will try to fit the chains, and if that doesn't work, the snow plow will come and pull us out."

Fitting the chains and trying again resulted in a deeper rut. Here is a photo taken inside the bus "with a level horizon for reference" as our resident astronomer, who also happened to be on Bus 1, put it.

We sat patiently, awaiting rescue. In the end it wasn't the snow plow but a recovery vehicle, which pulled over in front of us, deployed his stabilisers, and unreeled his winch cable. But not before the remaining coaches (#2 to #6), which had been waiting behind to see if it was safe to continue, were allowed past, with everyone waving from the windows. At that point the tour guide declared there was a better chance of pulling the bus out of the ditch if we lightened the load.

We got out, and trudged a few hundred metres further along the road to a place of relative safety, and waited. And waited.

I would include a photo of the bleak surroundings, but honestly it was nigh on impossible to tell the land from the sky from the road. White on white. A biting wind blew up. I raised my gaiter, grateful for its warmth and my wonderful wife who had thought to kit us out with them. "Good these, aren't they?" a fellow sufferer intrepid explorer said. They are indeed.

While we stood there in the snow, several vehicles came and went. Others came and stayed, their drivers stepping out onto the now slippery road surface to confer with the rescue crew. The expedition leader appeared to say that another bus would be sent back from the Cape to pick us up, if Bus #1 proved irretrievable. Then our recovery vehicle, winch and stabilising feet fully retracted, appeared over the brow of the hill and parked in front of the line of other vehicles on the opposite side of the road. Inexplicably, it was not followed by our coach. Nothing happened. Was it out of the ditch? Was it damaged? Was the other bus on its way? No-one knew anything. No-one said anything. 

And then, to loud cheers, it chugged up the hill and parked next to us. I found out later the extended interval was due to the driver having to back gingerly down the hill far enough to give him sufficient "run up" to be able to crest the rise.

All this delay meant we only had 45 minutes (of the intended two hours) at Nordkapp. Long enough to whizz around the gift shop (the usual crap), whizz around somewhere else (the usual... er... yeah) and take that mandatory photo beside the Nordkapp Globe. It was far too murky to see anything of the Barent Sea, views, stunning cliffs, or any of that. In fact with ice crystals blowing horizontally into faces it was next to impossible to see the steps up to the globe. But I did it.

My claim to fame is that this photo is taken by none other than Tom Kerss himself (we're best buds now, of course) as payback for me taking his. Nice one, mate.