Arctic Week Supplies unloaded from the Hurtigruten:

40 cases of beer
10 cases of soda
120 kilograms of meat
15 loaves of bread
Copious amounts of brown cheese

- Source: Liz-Iren Hansen

We were exhausted before we even began. This is photographic evidence that Shannon lost the staying-awake contest with Tamsin. Shannon claims that he only slept for two minutes, which, apparently, Tamsin was also guilty of on the boat a couple of hours earlier.

We piled onto a bus and headed for our spot at Kræmmervika, a collection of seaside cabins in Ballstad on the neighbouring island of Vestvågøya. The bus trip took an hour and a half, and our efforvescent bus driver kept us interested with all sorts of information about the Lofoten islands and the scenery we were passing through.

Kræmmervika consists of twenty-five unique wooden cabins located at the seaside, nestled in the mountains outside of Ballstad on the fjord. The weather was beginning to improve, and I snapped the above shot from the docks just after we arrived. We were all excited and impressed by our accomodations here. It couldn't have been any better: right on the water, with mountains 100 meters behind out cabins and boating facilities a ten-second walk from the front doors.

I took a stroll out with Liz-Iren out behind the cabins and through this array of fish-drying stands. These were spotted all over the landscape in Lofoten. According to Karen and Kjell at AutoSim, they're called fiskehjell, and they are used for making tørrfisk, dried fish. The fish are gutted and their bones are removed before they are hung up to dry on the wood. Both Karin and Kjell remarked that these are rather small fiskehjell, and that it is possible they were once taller. Fishermen often cover their fiskehjelle with nets, and install sirens that emit loud, periodic shrieks to keep the seabirds away from the drying fish, which are apparantly an important export from Norway to countries like Spain.

It didn't take long for the twenty-fifth cabin, in which I found myself, to become Party Central at Kræmmervika. It was the biggest cabin, and in theory it was to sleep eight people. It did contain eight beds, but the amount of sleep the eight of us got on Monday night was, well, negligible. The cabin's compliment consisted of Eilidh and Amy from Scotland, Espen from Norway, Nadia from Malta, Paul from Ireland, Tom from Germany, and Tamsin, Shannon and I from Canada.

Dinner on Monday night consisted of sausages that we boiled in our cabins. Nothing else was planned for the evening, so we settled ourselves in, cracked out a case or two of the beer, and enjoyed our first night in the Lofoten Islands.

Here's a shot of Nadia and Nathan busting a gut in Cabin 25. There was enough energy between the dozen or so of us hanging around there that our self-inflicted lack of sleep didn't slow us down. We were also tremendously grateful for Amy's first-class massage work, which, let me tell you, is something that has to be experienced. I understand that there are pictures of me out there with a facial expression somewhere between rapture and death as a proud Amy works out the last remaining kinks in my back. Ach, it was gh-reat, highland lass.

When we awoke on Tuesday morning, we began to clue in to a bit of a pattern. Once again, breakfast and lunch consisted of bread and brown cheese. Apparently this didn't phase the Norwegians, who seemed a bit curious as to why the foreigners (both offensive and non-) were a little concerned about the supplies. But you know what they say: ''When in Norway, do as the Norwegians do.'' Or something like that.

(Coincidentally, it was about this time that I infected the cabin by whistling Vengaboy's schlocky Norwegian dance tune, ''Boom Boom Boom Boom,'' one time too many. It played on the radio during breakfast, and we suddenly found it stuck in our heads for the duration of the trip. If you weren't with us on the trip, the reason I mention this here will soon become apparent.)

Anyway, we packed our bread-and-cheese lunches and headed for nearby Skotnes Mountain. At some 690 meters high, Skotnes isn't quite as intimidating as Tromsdalstinden, which I climbed with Nadia, Edmondas and Karl a few weeks back. But what it lacks in sheer intimidation it makes up in majesty.

At the base of Skotnes Mountain, the trainees set out for a trek up the mountain. My foot was still acting up from a little damage I inflicted back during the Midnight Sun Marathon, so I took up the rear and got a few photos of the group winding its way up the mountain.

There were plenty of sheep near the base of the mountain. There were also some interesting bits of wildlife that our Lofoten-native guides pointed out to us. Amy recalls being shown little, purple berries with clear juice that one of the guides explained were edible. He suggested that they try them, but Amy insisted that he eat the first one. After he wolfed down four of them, Amy and the others around her enjoyed the wilderness treat.

Half-way up the mountain, we stopped on some rocks to take a break and split into two groups. Those who were up for the challenge prepared to climb onwards to the top of the mountain, while the rest of us were free to explore the plateau on which we found ourselves.

On the top row is Dada and Nathan, Raphael and Lawrence. Shannon is on the left in the second row, followed by Tom, Nadia and Lina from Lithuania. On the bottom row, we have Tamsin, Espen, Eilidh, Regina from Germany and Javier from Spain. Martin from Slovakia is smiling up from the grass.

My foot wasn't getting any better, and so I elected to stay behind and enjoy the scenery - which, after all, was the reason we came in the first place! Here are the hardcore climbers making their way up the last couple of hundred meters. From what I understand, the top of the mountain was actually quite steep, and Edmundas claims there were parts that were more challenging than anything we encountered at Tromsdalstinden. From what I understand, the view from the top made the climb worthwhile.

Meanwhile, I wasn't complaining about the view from half-way up.

Tamsin, Shannon and I took a walk around the plateau and found some beautiful spots for pictures. Here's Tamsin in front of the mountain's peak.

The three of us admired the view for almost three hours as the others climbed to the top and then came back down.

On the way down, Shannon suddenly found himself even more full of energy than usual. He was, in Amy's words, ''being a tit and falling off things'' as he leaped down the mountain. ''He was the chief grasshopper,'' she recalls. ''Jump, jump, jump - splat!'' His leapfrog antics ended with the destruction of his watch band and a barrage of foul language worthy of his Newfoundland heritage.

While Shannon was hopping around, this particular view caught my eye. I struggled to capture it with a single CoolPix shot before deeming the task impossible. I took three pictures and put the photo together with PhotoPaint. As you can see, it turned out remarkably well, and I think this view really captures the feel of Skotnes. You can click on the image, or here, for a large version of this panoramic shot.

We returned from Skotnes in the evening, exhausted, for a meal of rice and ground beef, which was followed by another party, more fantastic massages, and then quite a good night's sleep.