It seems I got it all wrong. Here I thought that by steaming to the end of the line on the Hurtigruten ferry, we would be way up north. Right up at the top of the continent. As it turns out, in Kirkenes we are at the same latitude as Tromsø. Heck, we got up that far last time we were in Norway. It hadn’t occurred to me that we were going over the top and then back down again.
While I’m confessing my geography misconceptions, I might as well point out that we are now as far east as Cairo. And almost all of Finland is west of us. I had to check the map. Sure enough.
But I do know that we are nearly on the Russian border. And our excursion to see King Oscar II Chapel brought us as close as you can get without crossing. The first clue was the road signs. Below the place names we recognized were Cyrillic characters. Turning just short of border control, we followed a small road for the final 20k. The further we went, the narrower and bumpier the road. We followed a river. Signs informed us that the boundary went down the middle. The also listed a whole lot of things we must NOT do. Including point our camera toward the other side. I knew we were harmless Americans, but it felt onerous. We were being watched.
The chapel was built in 1869, in hopes of resolving the disputes over the fishing border with Russia. Instead of the gunboat that was requested to patrol the waters, it was deemed that a church would serve to peaceably mark the Norwegian territory. Whether it succeeded is unknown, but it seems a good example of diplomacy.
Having paid our respects to the church, we continued to the end of the road. Norwegian military personnel were in evidence, but gave us a friendly wave. A watch tower stood on the top of the nearest rise. Despite the fact that the temperature hadn’t reached 50 degrees and dark clouds portended rain, we lingered on the long sandy beach nearby. While Rich patiently waited for birds to draw nearer, I walked the beach from end to end, taking care not to venture past the yellow border obelisk.
Our AirBnB in Kirkenes turned out to be a lovely Scandinavian modern cottage behind our hosts’ home. We took advantage of the cozy environs to hang out for our final morning, knowing it was a long day until our 9pm flight. We were awakened by sunlight streaming in at an absurd hour, but delighted by its surprise reappearance. Setting out for an early morning walk that took me up to the rocky hilltop, not only did I find great vistas, but a little lake and the eerie call of red throated loons. The whole aura of the city was transformed by the change in weather.
We made use of the car to go on another field trip, this time to see a stave church and a fishing village. But our favorite attractions were along the route. In the midst of the barren, scrubby, rocky land we saw several herds of reindeer and two moose!
And now we start the long process to get home. I get this geography. Going from one small town in Norway to another small town in Minnesota requires five flights. And a lot of waiting. I’m already looking forward to being on home territory again, and sleeping in my own bed. I don’t need any lessons to tell me how good that will feel.