A Road Trip

I had a van and was going on a road trip. I didn’t know who I was going with or where I was going, but I knew I could pack a lot because I had a van. I filled two backpacks full of clothes and other stuff and chucked them in.

I got in the van, getting into the wrong side at first. The driver’s seat was very high up and it took two attempts to make it there. The van was big and slate-grey, with square edges. I pulled out of my parents’ driveway and started down the road. It took forever to pick up any sort of speed, and I was passed by some traffic. Eventually I put it into second gear; oh well, I thought, at least I have a van. I made it as far as the top of Barr Street, where there was a new roundabout. Two cars had crashed and the wrecks were sitting on top of the botanical decorations in the middle of the roundabout. A local was directing traffic. I drove through slowly; there were a lot of rubberneckers all along the footpaths, and people who wanted to have a turn at directing traffic.

There were speed camera signs up everywhere, and police vans parked in the road to slow drivers down. I slowed right down and drove through. There were no police around.

I made it to town, and decided to go to New World to get some supplies. I parked up the hill in the suburbs, and started walking down. I realised that I was barefoot and there were a lot of sharp things on the ground, so I tried turning back. Since I had taken a short cut through somebody’s garden, I had to retrace my steps. I met the old lady at her gate, which she held open for me, along with the curtain that was draped over it. She made some smalltalk and I was on my way.

At New World, I carefully avoided the butchers, but much of the shelving had been removed so they saw me. Nicola was sitting in an empty meat refrigerator scrubbing. She said it had been three years, and she was waiting for me to come in every day like I used to. I said it had been more than four years, and I didn’t visit last time I was in the country. Lyndon, my old manager, came around and gave me a hug and a kiss on each cheek, since I had been in Europe. He then pretended to make out with me as a joke. I tried to shrug it off but probably came across as a bit prudish. I thought I saw Darian, but it was just a guy in glasses who was a bit scared of me. There were a lot of people sweeping the empty floors of the supermarket. I joined them for a while, then left.

I was biking along a forest path and I realised that I had become a stranger in my old home town. Then I realised that this was Christchurch. I accidentally cycled down a dead-end track, and had to walk back with my bike as it was very muddy. My back tyre was quite flat. Tim Matheson went on ahead; I don’t know how he managed to bike over the metre-high concrete step but then I was never much of a mountainbiker. I became stuck trying to climb over with my bike, then noticed some colourful lizards. One crawled over my back and it tickled.

Fishermen Using Dynamite to Blow Holes in the Ice

Renja and I were getting tattoos. I wasn’t sure why, as the tattoos were going to be very small, and were of people’s names that we didn’t know. We had to copy these onto what seemed like mashed potato using a pencil. It was nearly impossible to get the line fine enough to be able to read the name. When I was done, I came to see how Renja got on. She was sitting in a vintage car outside my parents’ place. She liked the tattoos.

We were in Lappajarvi in winter, and were looking out into the clear night sky. I could see fiery explosions happening in space; everything was far far clearer than it normally would be. Soon, I noticed hundreds of spaceships silently falling, suspended in the air and semi transparent, dropping something to earth. I saw something tumble in front of me, so went to pick it up. It was an old Disney comic book, and the spaceships turned out to be American. I wasn’t sure if they were distributing the comic books, or trying to dump them in the lake as that was where most of them went. I told Mikael and Annika about this as I waved the comic book around; they seemed very interested in the story.

There was a loud explosion that came from the frozen lake. I looked out and saw some fishermen using dynamite to blow holes in the ice. They were readying themselves for another explosion. This one was louder, and the debris came flying towards the cottage. The spent stick of dynamite clattered against the window and woke Renja up. Jussi had gone out to scold them and when I came out there was a full-blown argument, albeit a very subdued one. The man was trying to reenact Jussi pushing him, and Jussi was telling him to stop whining and to leave. The fisherman’s wife did and said nothing, and I started pushing the man as softly as he said Jussi had done. I pushed him onto the ground and he left.

In Lappajarvi there was a famous water slide. Renja couldn’t remember if it was the longest, oldest, fastest, but she remembered that there was a superlative attached. I went down it in front of her and a queue of old people. It was made of copper and was very hard to slide on; eventually I stopped and everybody collided with me as the water pooled up. I let Renja continue while I went to the toilet. It was a room with an attendant, and it seemed the attendant had a friend hanging out there too. I turned my back and used the urinal, which took forever. I thought I had stopped, and was becoming self-conscious as I heard the friends talking about me, but I needed to continue. Now I was weeing into a copper jug which was close to overflowing. I could have done more, but by now it was farcical so I stopped. I awkwardly left.

Gang Headquarters

There was a long caterpillar crawling along some rocks in an old town. It was see-through with black spikes along its back. I watched it for a while, but didn’t want to go too close as it looked dangerous. When I looked closer it looked like a lizard but it was still a caterpillar. I went away and came back; a mother was playing with her baby in the leaves where the caterpillar had been. I didn’t want to concern her, so I didn’t mention the caterpillar. Soon enough, she started screaming as she had touched a regular sized caterpillar.

I had my feet up on a stone wall that surrounded what looked like part of a gang headquarters. I turned around and a guard dog had latched its jaws around my foot. I panicked and shouted but nobody helped. An old man was nearby but he appeared to do nothing. The jaws were full of needle-fine teeth that went several rows deep. I eventually managed to prize myself free; the old man came back with assistance.

Model Skyscrapers

I was on an interrail trip around China. The girl at the border made my rail pass that doubled as a visa. She wrote with a magic pen that made her writing turn into fancy text right before your eyes. The pass was about the size of a restaurant menu, and was laminated. I went on my way.

I had arrived at a restaurant in a new city, and found that it was run by a Brit. The man was overplaying the fact that we were from the same country to try and make me feel more comfortable. I didn’t want to order anything as none of it appealed to me so I went to find the toilet. Downstairs I could see what I thought was a giant urinal so I started to wee in it. I thought it was bad that the Chinese had left so much rubbish floating around in it, before realising that it was a recycling depot. I went downstairs again to find the public toilet.

I was with Tristram and Micheal Ross, and I said to them that we should go on the next train, wherever it goes. Instantly, I was in Hong Kong in a place that found accommodation. It was a giant room, like a warehouse, that was full of model skyscrapers, as well as full sized bedrooms and hotel rooms. I had climbed a very tall model skyscraper but the model rooms were far too small to stay in. I was worried about earthquakes so I climbed back down immediately.

My Pillow

Toilets didn’t exist, and I really needed to go but I wasn’t sure where I should. I looked around for a good place to go but couldn’t find one. I vaguely remembered weeing into my pillow so I started going inside the pillowcase. Renja wasn’t shocked but told me that I should wee somewhere else. I had a look outside but there were too many people around.

Soldiers on Horses

There were a lot of soldiers around as war seemed imminent. I realised that this might affect our holiday around Croatia. I was bored, and asked a soldier for an idea on what to do. “You just want to get in the way and make more work for me” said the soldier. He then directed me to a group of local teenagers. There were several soldiers around; some on horses, all with kalishnikovs.

The teenagers were gathered together in an overgrown, abandoned space. They were a mixture of Muslim, Croat and Serb. I noticed a flowerpot full of light soil and what appeared to be a succulent. “We are planting our first banana”, said one, before another excitedly exclaimed “cake!” They were mixing the dry ingredients in the flowerpot. It was fun to share in their excitement. I could see soldiers on horses riding past in the distance; they had more important things to worry about.

The Sea is Shrinking and May Vanish

I had gone to Israel for a backpacking trip. The bus went along the edge of the Dead Sea, which was turquoise and of many different shades. If it was deep the water was especially bright, and I could always see the bottom. I could also see giant salt crystals floating in the water. A voiceover announced that the sea is shrinking and may vanish altogether one day.

Israel was exactly how I had imagined it to be. I put this down to having read the guide book from start to finish, and was disappointed that there was no excitement. It was like a tidier Marrakech and there was hardly anybody around.

I went on a day trip that involved going in a van, then the shortest plane trip that could ever be. Just as we took off, the plane came back down again and landed in a canal. Several planes were taking off at the same time. From a viewpoint I could see some pyramids that had been floodlit. I tried to find the sphinx but it wasn’t there. Then I realised that those pyramids were in Egypt and I was not. Egypt was where Israel would normally be and vice versa.

Confectionary Shop

I was walking to Invercargill along a walking path. Parts of the scenery were incredibly beautiful. I started running through a snowy part; the snow got deeper and deeper until I couldn’t see the path. I accidentally started walking on a stream that had been covered in snow.

From the top of a hill I could see Gore spread out like a city across the plains. I would be staying the night there as it was getting dark. First I went through a small town on the hillside called Wyndham. I walked past a small collection of shops, always thinking if I should go and get something to eat as it was a Sunday night and most places would be closing soon. I passed a branch of HMV that seemed to be full of bored staff.

In Gore I came across a confectionary shop that was being run by some kids as their parents were out. They didn’t seem to speak much english. The boy behind the counter served me his own favourites, including pink gummy worms and other animals made from pink icing. Another boy was eating ice cream and taking out the chocolate chips because he didn’t like them. I was surprised at how fussy some kids could be. It was expensive and I wish I hadn’t gone there. I went to find a hotel.

Hamilton-on-the-Waikato

I walked past Griffin’s Bakery. Trisha saw me and I had to stop and talk. She invited me in to the newly refurbished bakery and cafe. I saw Jimmy but he looked too busy to talk. Several of the staff from Geoffrey Tailor were there too.

I was traveling through the Roxburgh Gorge with some English people, and tucking into some baked beans. They were Watties, and I commented about how much better they were than Heinz beans. We talked about cultural differences between England and New Zealand. The best that I could come up with was to compare town names. “We don’t call our cities fancy names, like “Hamilton-on-the-Waikato”. We just call it Hamilton. I couldn’t come up with any other examples but people thought it was a good point. We passed a modest hill that had been used as the cover photo on the newest edition of Lonely Planet.

Apple Crumble

Renja and I were going to get some sort of treatment. She put her bag on a bed to reserve it and we both went to find a toilet. I had the choice between a tiny cubicle and one that took up the whole room. Sitting down on the toilet in the centre of the room, I realised that people could see me. Soon, five people and an unattended baby were looking at me from the waiting room seats right in front of me. I called Renja and remembered to throw in a line about being watched by five people. “Kid, could you pass me some toilet paper?” I said to the kid as casually as I could. He passed me the fancier of the two papers that were on either side of him. I quickly wiped once and pulled my pants up as fast as I could. My underwear was made out of disposable hairnet material.

I got back to our beds and quickly put my bag on my bed to reserve it, as an American Marine was coming in. I knew he had a gun and I wasn’t scared. He came in, gun first, and I grabbed the end of it and forced it away from me. I eventually took it and pointed it at him. It wasn’t the least bit tense. The gun was made from yellow plastic; I pulled a large cardboard packaging tag off it as it was annoying me. Caroline came in, looking annoyed. “Is that your bed?”, she asked. There had clearly been a mix up but I stood my ground. She said something else that I couldn’t make out. “What?” I replied. “Oh, don’t start!” she shouted halfway out the room as she stormed off. I realised that she said something along the lines of “why does this always happen?”.

My parents’ house was full of people. PJ was getting married and had hardly given any notice, and everyone was frantically preparing for the big day. “This is going to be a lot of work”, I heard Jussi say as he walked past with Elisa. “There has to be at least 100 guests”. I could tell that he was enjoying it. The wedding had become an internet sensation; there were a lot of rubberneckers. A Japanese tour group stopped outside our front door and took pictures of sculptures. I went out and they ran away sheepishly.

I went back into the kitchen. It was packed full of people. I saw Robin, his wife and Ben all talking. I poked him as he was in deep conversation. My finger went through his aran jumper. He acknowledged me but kept talking. They were all wearing aran jumpers. I saw Shannon; she said hello to me, but I could tell that she had forgotten who I was. There was an asian guy with spiky hair. He was happy to see me but I had forgotten who he was.

The kitchen cupboards were all left open, and were full of old baking trays. They had been ransacked by eager chefs making dishes for the wedding. I found some old things: a huge container of honey that had honey stalactites forming on the lid, old ads for furniture, and for cheap flights from Hamilton.

I wasn’t invited to the wedding, so went to my room. It was full of Spanish students wandering around. I tried to pull my curtain but it didn’t shut. There was clutter everywhere. Carl was sitting on the floor opening gifts he had received from customers. The first one was a gold chain from an American Marine. He was having trouble reading the letter as he was drunk. He and I read different things from the same letter because he was reading it upside down. “I have to make an apple crumble for the wedding” he shouted drunkenly as he scraped at an old apple crumble in an old baking tray, “but it has to be somewhere warm and low. Your oven is too high, and you don’t have a TV!” He meant microwave.

Our Swan Boat

I had a boat that was being navigated through a canal by two swans with their necks interlocked. It was supposed to help with the steering but in reality I was the only one doing any steering. We went through a series of flooded locks as the canal became more rundown, and eventually arrived at a part that was too narrow and damaged for our swan boat. Renja got out of the boat and walked to the end of the canal which was only a few metres away.

Later, I came back to the canals with some guests. The owner of the tourist attraction was enthusiastically speaking about the place, and our loyal patronage. I was walking in bare feet; there were patches of broken glass on the ground. Further along the ground was covered in cubes of smashed windscreen glass. A police bulldozer screamed past, clearing a small path through the glass. It made quite a sound.

Van

Ben and John came in with long, slicked-back hair. “All we need now is a van”, John said. Their plans must have been going well. I kept looking at Ben’s hair.

How to Cast a Line

I was living in Waikouaiti camping ground in a small caravan with Renja. I could hear a concert coming from the other side of the camp. It was the Portishead show; I rued not buying tickets.

It was free to go to, so I went and got my camera and waited by the main stage as other bands and DJs played to tiny audiences nearby. A couple of fans were waiting with me. As the stage time got closer, more people arrived and space was made for the new audience members. I was given instructions to move closer to the front. The stage was far away and the audience were in a roped off area. As I was moved even closer, I found myself in a swimming pool. It was a great view, except soon people stood on the edge, blocking my view. My camera was face down in the pool; I dived to retrieve it but it had stopped working. The LCD screen was wearing away, revealing the inside of the camera.

Running, I went to a camera stall manned by Alex. “I need a two or a four”, I said hurriedly, refering to the memory card size. “Which one then?” asked Alex. “I don’t mind, a four or an eight, or a two, just not a one. A two or a four will do”. He looked confused and slightly bothered. “A two, I’ll have a two. No, actually a four would be good”, I said before realising that there were also different coloured ones. In my haste I had also bought a new camera, but told Alex to hold it until I checked my old one.

I made my way back to my place, to find my old camera. On the way there was a line of fishermen being taught how to cast a line. The footpath was covered in silt, and crickets and other live bait crawled around. A huge toad had buried itself in the silt. I covered my eyes so as to avoid having a hook swung into it. A frog was taking a free ride on my sock. I narrowly avoided standing on some of its friends.

I tested out my old camera with a new memory card. It worked, and Portishead came out and started performing. The singer had a green wig on. I managed to get some good pictures before putting my camera away to enjoy the show more. One familiar song started playing, and I realised it was The Rip so I sang along with the rest of the audience. The singer saw me singing and started to cough. “I can’t finish this line”, she spluttered to me, while coughing. The show was now in a dark tent and images were projected onto the sides. The band all had fake blood painted all over their faces, and they looked like a metal band. The audience was tiny.

A Choir, But I Had to Practice

Andrew’s play was being performed in an exhibition space, and I was helping with the Local Hoons part. I played drums, which were made up of kitchen pans. The space was being used by a choir, but I had to practice. Andrew went away and I gave the pans a bit of a hit; they were very loud and I saw some girls getting angry. They came over and said that they didn’t think I should be there. When Andrew came back, he was in full swing, organising things and looking stressed. I tried to tell him that we weren’t welcome here anymore, but the play went on nonetheless. An actor came running down the stairs, and stopped abruptly when he reached a circle on the ground. That was the main part of the play. Nobody was watching.

Rose Bush

My arm brushed up against a rose bush. I was snagged by a thorn that then embedded itself into my arm. I cried out in pain; half the rose bush had gone into my arm. I pulled the thorn out and kept pulling as a stem, and then a rose head came out of me. Every thorn made me shriek out in pain. Renja’s mother looked concerned. Another stem and rose came out. There were five in total, the last being the most painful. Passers by noticed, and laughed.

There was a bus shelter with post it notes on it. One set were for a man and one for his wife. I left one telling them to trim their rose bush.

Oprah

I lived in a ramshackle cottage at the top of the hill. My driveway formed the end of the main street, which got bigger and busier as it ran further down the hill towards the harbour. Renja and I were walking down when we saw a limousine pull up. I heard that Oprah Winfrey was in town and it was indeed her. The next thing I knew, I was holding a punnet of warm, squashed, colourless strawberries that had been sitting in her limo in the sun all day. I ate one to be polite. Oprah’s skin had been bleached white and was blotchy.

Describing Windmills

I could hear talking coming from somewhere in our flat. I looked in the laundry room where two rough looking guys were sleeping on some shelves. I ordered them to leave but they insisted that our place was a crash pad, and was part of an online network of crash pads. They showed me a brochure with a map of all the crash pads in Maori Hill, with an X on our place. I had to let them be, and made a point to bring this up with Aga and Eva. One of the guys offered Renja a bong, which she accepted.

Renja surprised one of her workmates by buying her a dress. Nobody liked this girl, and she had just been voted out of a competition. We went to visit her in a hospital, where the dress was presented. I had to get it out of its packaging, which was awkward and took forever. I severely damaged the fabric in the process.

On the way back, I walked around a lake, and Birmingham and Manchester were on the opposite sides. I walked with a group of people behind me. It was dark and rainy; I walked past the place I was staying and had to backtrack.

The Mexican guy that we flatted with was also annoyed about the crash pad status of our flat as he had been living there even longer than us. He couldn’t do anything about it as his visa had expired and he was hiding in our flat.

I went to my room which was an outhouse. We had been describing windmills and comparing them to the Dutch type of windmill. I drew sketches with arrows annotating the movement of the blades. Outside my window was a wind turbine with three blades; two of the blades formed a straight line while one went off at a strange angle. It was just about to start up; I wouldn’t be getting much sleep tonight. A patch of mud in the back yard started boiling. Soon all the patches of mud had turned into boiling mud. I thought it might be dangerous, especially for a dog. Tomorrow I would go whale watching if the weather stayed good; I lived in Iceland after all.

Ambulances

I was riding down High Street in a cardboard box. There was a cluster of ambulances around five motorbikes that had crashed. It didn’t look too serious but then another ambulance came over the crest of the hill. Down further, an ambulance overtook another ambulance, while yet another waited at a stop sign.

In Stitches

I was going to have surgery. I had filled in my form, but the long wait to be seen by a nurse had made me scribble all over it and tear the corners. I waited for days, then left the hospital.

When I came back, Michael Palin was in the same ward as me. I tried not to let on that I knew who he was, until he said something funny to me. I couldn’t understand as he said it too fast, but I laughed anyway. He laughed too and was soon in stitches. I wished I had heard what he said, but enjoyed the moment nonetheless.

In the next cubicle (the hospital looked like an office), a girl was having surgery, and some of her friends and family were watching. She was on a bed and was covered by a flat sheet that hid her shape. Only her head was in sight. The doctor took a 30cm ruler and measured down from her chin, then made a long incision through the stiff sheet, right across where her chest was. Soon, the cut became bloody. She was motionless but her eyes told me she was in extreme pain. A trickle of blood dripped from the corner of her mouth.

It Was Real

I was working in the jewellery shop on the Royal Mile, only it was now its own shop. It was nearly empty, and only the ugly pieces were left. I had a lot of window shoppers but nobody bought anything. But I didn’t care – the whole area was a film set. Some snobby girls came in and moaned about the selection on offer. “If I was in charge, I’d give you all 20% discount and ask what you’d want to buy”, I claimed. It was part of the script.

It was my break time. Renja and I went for a walk. Now it appeared to be Northeast Valley, only it was still a film set. The three snobby girls were behind a fence, snooping on three supposedly ugly girls, and laughing at them. I got in their way and made them more conspicuous while they tried to hide behind my parents’ fence. The “ugly” girls were talking about how neither Jack nor Jackson had shown up to take them to the prom. “They’re not coming”, I shouted out, ruining the take.

I walked down the road, back towards the shop. “See this snow?”, I said to Renja. “Fake”. I reached down to prove my point; it was real. I shouted “actor” at all passers-by, still convinced it was a film set. I wondered why the jewellery shop was in a bad area of town.

We were in the back room when Renja started talking about Kent, and that she hoped he didn’t show up. I thought he was a character, but then I heard someone breaking in. We locked the door and pulled the blinds in the back room and stayed quiet. I heard things break but there was a long silence. Then he tried our door. He shouted out a garbled sentence to us; I had no idea what he said but he was obviously deranged. Renja answered the phone with a very fleeting “hello”. Nobody was on the other end. “Hello”, she said more clearly. We held the now unlocked door handle tightly as it started shaking.

43 Minutes

I was cycling on the high road with Renja, heading along the peninsula. The road was quite wide but there were a lot of vans and buses parked on the side which made it narrower. We stopped for a break. I filled my water bottle and drank, before filling it again. The water was full of black gunk. “It’s not even good enough for cooking”, I declared. We sat and ate and I poured the water into a bucket.

I got a message through my work email. It said that a kitten had fallen into the bucket, 43 minutes ago. I scooped the kitten out; it was sitting on the bottom looking up and mewing silently under the water. It had somehow survived. Its name was 21 but I decided it should be named 43 now.

Waterskier

I drove down Barr Street and turned right onto Kaikorai Valley Road. It was a big, wide road and I started speeding. I went through a police checkpoint; I was doing over 60kph and they waved me down, but I couldn’t stop. I drove further along the road. Kaikorai Valley was a lot more wild than I remembered; it passed through some nice autumn-coloured forests. Now Renja and I were in Naseby.

My car was a campervan. Its roof was dark green and see-through. I parked in a camping ground that was indoors. It cost $11 for the night, and the proprietor was Finnish, although she didn’t look it. She had given Renja a stuffed toy penguin, and now I got one too.

We were parked on a lake, and there was a helicopter overhead. It had a rope that went under the surface of the lake. The water was disturbed, and soon a waterskier surfaced from the lake. I showed Renja but she thought it was too crazy and didn’t want to look. The waterskier was going in the other direction from us, being towed by the helicopter. They then came back towards us and the rope cut a jagged line through the roof. There were some blokes with us; one had a severed ear.

Antarctica VI (Chocolate Makers)

I was going for a bike ride along the coastal road in Antarctica. A lady pointed out the dangerous parts, including where the ice was too thin. Some people had been spotted walking there and she wasn’t impressed. There was a hotel on the map that I wanted to go to. I followed the road as it turned to gravel on the edge of town, then back to asphalt again. I was almost thrown off my bike by some patches of cobblestones.

On the way back again, I was going much faster. When I came to a hill I accidentally changed up a gear instead of down, so had to get off and push to the top. I went back through the town, with all its traffic, and made my way to the voluntary chocolate makers. It was through a fence that I had to climb over with my bike. There was barbed wire around the fence but it had been broken.

Guy from Elbow was running the chocolate place. He told me that because I didn’t turn up at the rehearsal, I couldn’t make chocolate today. I pointed out that I got to do it last time. There were a few chocolate animals on sticks lying around the place. I wanted one but they were for the volunteers. It was getting late. I told Elizabeth that I was going to stay in a lodge nearby. Her parents knew the owners and she emailed them for me. I asked if she could call as I needed to know straight away, but she was speaking to someone using speaker phone. I went to the jetty.

The last ferry had already left. Renja had sent some texts but they were all in Finnish and the connection was slow because Nik was on the internet.

A German Shepherd and a Snake

Jussi had made me a pizza. It was massive, as all pizzas were. It was sitting on the lawn. I wasn’t hungry, and we were looking after a german shepherd and a snake. I let them eat it. The dog looked apprehensive and the snake kept slithering in the other direction but eventually they were both eating pizza.

When I came back, the german shepherd was lying on the ground, too full to move. The snake had gone. One slice of pizza remained and I thought it would be a shame to throw it away, so I took a bite. I got dog hair in my mouth. Looking closely, I saw lots of dog hair and pawprints all over it.

Grey Mountains

I was driving along the Irish coast looking at the grey mountains. It was pretty enough, but I had seen much nicer scenery before. Renja and I were on a road trip there, seeing some of the places that we missed the previous time. I decided to go to Galway as we were in the area. I had to pull into a driveway and turn the car around. We got to the edge of town, which looked like the shortcut between Mitchell Ave and Maryhill Terrace. I walked down the path, occasionally stopping while old people got in my way. I was pushing a bike. I went past one slow old person by climbing down a retaining wall.

We started biking along the Headford road at the bottom of the hill. I turned my light on as it was getting dark. Renja was walking; I reminded her about her bike. Moments later, she was walking again; I reminded her of the bike again. The town looked like Svolvaer, Norway.