Land of the
Midnight Sun
Just beyond the reach of civilization, wild lands remain. Each spring the Norwegian Arctic emerges from months of ice and darkness, revealing cold, plentiful fjords nestled between lush valleys. This is the Land of the Midnight Sun.
Six companions venture to this place, seeking a great prize. Soup. Kalakeitto, to be specific. “World's best food.” The perfect fish soup. But soup doesn't always come easy. The trek is long and the path is untamed, from Helsinki to the North, where the Char await.
The best soups are not served. They're earned.
Chapter 1: Travel Time
Our trek began. A thousand miles north from Helsinki in a 1998 Mercedes Sprinter. Rented from Eero, friend of Antti. Eero was paid upfront, in cash.
Twenty hours later, the road ends at a small dock, on the shore of a giant fjord. A Norwegian man and his small boat await. The man is Arne, internet friend of Jukka. Arne was payed upfront, in cash.
Arne drops us on the far side of the fjord and sends us off with a promise: he will meet us in this spot, at this time, in eight days. Unit then, “Goodbye.”
A grill hangs from chains, and we discuss the final leg of our journey. We are hiking to a pinch in the fjord. The spot Jukka found on a map. Pointing he said, “I think the fishing will be nice there.” So that is where we went.
Chapter 2: Camp Time
With our trek complete and camp made, we set out on our hunt. Hoping to land the ‘big one’ in our first hours. However, this fantasy came and went, and we retreated back to our tents for much needed rest.
As we slept, low clouds pulled over the valley and rain tapped on the nylon walls of our tents. Fishing would have to wait.
We arrange our tents into a collective, organized a kitchen, and prepared the only food we had. Boiled rice, shaved butter, and fried brown bread.
For 40 hours the peaks surrounding us stayed covered. We sang songs and played cards to pass the time, but mainly we waited. Waited for the fishing to begin again.
Chapter 3: Soup Dreams
Chapter 3: Soup Dreams
Then, without warning, the rains stopped. The clouds broke. The waters calmed. And the fishing began.
In short time, Jukka fought a great Arctic Char from the cold waters. Within minutes the fish was cleaned and butchered.
Finally, the moment was upon us. The first bite, of the first Char, of the new season. A moment of true bliss. Only comparable to a dream.
On this day, Jukka dreamed he was around a fire, in a beautiful valley, surrounded by friends. He dreamed of a place where the sun never set, and where every meal was lunch.
Epilogue
With our bellies full of soup, and our energy restored, we took to the hills high above the fjord. We wondered without purpose, climbed rock, and foraged fireweed for the soups to come.
In the end, the soup was earned. The trek matched the reward. And the world was right, if only just for a moment.
Hyvää kalastusta. (Good Fishing.)
