Today we crossed the Swedish border, a little earlier than planned. We decided to take our time, explore more of Sweden, and save our budget, which was spiraling out of control in Norway. And on the same day, we also left the Arctic. A double transition.
Like a natural border between the two countries, towering mountains initially block our path. We climb slowly, then descend gently towards the Swedish plains and hills. On the other side, it's like returning to winter. The Norwegian coast, softened by the Gulf Stream, had made us forget the snow. But here, the lakes are frozen again, the trees encased in ice. And strangely, these landscapes already feel familiar. We had missed them.
We're driving late, very late. We've lost count of the kilometers; we just want to reach Arjeplog tonight. The sky becomes a canvas, everything is reflected, everything blends together—the water, the ice, the clouds. A suspended moment. And even if it's not visible yet, spring is approaching. We're starting to feel it.
