Last night was rounded off with a trip to the sauna, just as the night before. This time, I went with a group mostly consisting station staff. Young people, mostly master students, who had all been here for more than a month. They were tough. This night, I got company down to the jokk.
Tea in the mess hall is a good way to round off an evening of sauna and jokk swimming. Stefan (station staff, and an acquaintance from Stockholm geo), Victor (also staff, hydrology master’s student originally from Greece), Johan (one of my classmates on the Tarfala course) and I sat down by one of the round tables in the common room, the entire building empty of people except for us. Stefan is leaving tomorrow, so he wanted to get rid of the whiskey he had carried all the way up to the station a month ago. It was smoky, the night outside dark and Stefan picked down the guitar from the wall, picking out melodies.
I walked back to the dorm house at half past midnight, the wet stones made even more slippery by my whiskey dulled senses. Going to bed was like falling into a cloud.
Sauna, jokk swimming and whiskey gives vivid dreams. I was walking through green valleys surrounded by high mountains, having meandering conversations with someone who’s face kept on shifting form, from Stefan to Johan to Hannes (of all people).
When I woke up, the world was over washed in a crisp light, the sun shining over the ridge of the mountain. It was Sunday, so breakfast consisted of pancakes. Just as at Time Out Farms in Fort Langley, British Columbia, Tarfala Research Station serves Sunday morning pancake breakfast.
Katja Malmborg 