29 August

Wake up at four o'clock already, worried. Why? For the helicopter tour? No, that I look forward to. Gruel breakfast as usual, pack, clean the room. Leaves the trangia, sleeping mat, and walking stick for storage. Unnecessary to carry on them. I am allowed to have them in the station's storage space. Sorts out the payment for the rooms with and without the sharing, breakfasts, and dinner. I put backpack at the reception desk and sit down in the dining room. Looking out through the window at the rain outside. The dus driver at the table last night is talking with the host. He will pick up the students quarter past eleven at the helicopter pad. There is heavy clouds and it rains, I wonder if I can get a ride? Sure, of course. It makes that I get almost two hours too early there, but it is better that I avoid the rain. The bus is a minibus, it is written Turbilen on it.

When we get there is a man pulling out a helicopter from the hangar. He will fly a separate trip to Staloluokta to fetch some of the students. He suggests that I tell the reception desk and fly with him instead of with the regular tour. With a light jerk the helicopter lift, and swinging out over the Kvikkjokk delta. So incredibly beautiful. My concern this morning is completely forgotten. A wonderful feeling to glide over Tarradalen. Glide, we do not entirely glide, the strong wind tosses the helicopter back and forth. The pilot skillfully chooses a path between the rain, clouds and gusts. The rain is hitting the windshield. Normally, in the interests of hikers on the trail, they do not fly in Tarradalen but Tjuoltavagge. Today it is too poor visibility in Tjuoltavagge. This is flying, in contrast to those big flying cans.

At Tarraluoppal he takes over Fästajaure, further along Kierkevare and across the lakes Pållaure. The sun! When we go down for landing in Staloluokta the sun shines. What a contrast with Kvikkjokk! Some of the students stand and wait for the helicopter. Only women. My reptilian brain can not help but look a little extra on them. One of them wonders if the flight was difficult, it has been very windy during the night and they thought the tour might be canceled. Not at all, is the only thing I get out of me. Go up to the cottage, the reception is closed, I put my things in an empty room. While I eat my lunch occurs an impressive rainbow over Virihaure, Virihaure is today as a beautiful and nice woman.

Go to shop and order smoked fish for the evening. I've been here before and know that you have to order the fish. I look forward to eat them. When I come back, the reception is opened. A group of three (young woman, man and older man) have been placed in "my" room. Okay, I get room 8 instead, a room for two. You can pay by bank transfer, I receive an invoice. I will refrain from room 7 with own kitchen. When I was here for the first time in 1994 they called it the "amorous room". A little later, move a couple in there. I must limit myself to cuddle with Nalle, a beautiful and very sociable dog. It welcomes a guest as much as I think it's master. The dog belongs to the couple who run the cottage. The cottages in Padjelantra is rented and operated by Badjelánnda Laponia Tourism.

Go to the kiosk "mini-livs". It is closed with instructions to go to the gray house, but do not pass through a neighbor's garden. Knocking on and wonders if she has "glödkakor", the traditional regional bread. "No, it is she who manages Fiskflygs reservations over there who bakes them. I start to bake when she has left Staloluokta tomorrow". I wait for tomorrow. I sit down at the lake. The sun is shining but the wind is increasing in strength and rain threatens. I go and rest in my room. Rain beats against the window pane, a magnificent rainbow is stretching out.

As agreed, I get the fish at six o'clock. Fishes, two pieces, I was hungry when I ordered them. Good. There are not many guests, a couple, a lonely man, the company of three, and me. The washing water bucket is empty. Water is fetched from the jåkk. A pump (sling pump) is driven by the stream and is pumping the water into a barrel with a pin. Last time I was here it was a hand pump.

Half past eight, and I write diary in the glow of the sun descending behind the mountains of Norway on the other side of Virihaure. The woman in Virihaure becomes even more beautiful.

Turbilen - persontransport med turvognløyve i Bodø
Sarek 1994
Badjelánnda Laponia Turism








Take off


Church cot

Church interior



Sling pump

Water tap

Mini livs




Smoked char