Riding the rails to Abisko

As the clock sweeps into hour 22 on the train, I’ve had a fair amount of time to thing about this trip up to Abisko National Park. First and foremost, this is my first time journeying above the Arctic Circle, something I’m quite excited about. Last year I went farther south than I ever had before, this year it’s north, and next year the plans are to swing ever further south than the Cape of Good Hope. After that, if I want to break either of these personal bests, I might as well just head for the poles. More than that, this train ride has been the longest continuous single transportation leg I’ve ever taken (in hours). Apparently, the Swedish rail system is not quite as modern and reliable as other European countries, a fact I began to realize after we had a 4-hour breakdown on the tracks last night, and after a bunkmate in my compartment referred to SJ, the rail company, as “Sweden’s shame.” Best case scenario, I will arrive at my destination almost exactly 24 hours after I left Stockholm; worst case, I’ve given up and relocated somewhere between Kiruna and Abisko stations - send warm blankets and brandy. Still, I had a bed compartment (shared by two recently relocated Somalians, 3 native Swedes, and me), and riding the train, even for a whole day, is so much more pleasant than flying because I can get up to walk around, get a drink in the cafe, and open the windows. Also, the train conductors here are much less diligent than in Norway, and they’ve now failed to stamp my rail pass three times, meaning I’m going to get several trips for free before I leave (shhhh, don’t report me).

Let me also take a moment to relate part of the trip today in a little more detail. I had a reservation from Stockholm to Boden, a point about ⅔ of the way to my destination, where I was told when making the reservation, I would have to disembark and grab the next train to Abisko. Now, because of the delay, I knew I had missed the next scheduled to train to Abisko, so I was planning to have a long wait in the train station at Boden. However, just before we got to Boden, there was an announcement that anyone going north to Narvik (the end of the line) should stay on the train, because they were going to backtrack, pick up more passengers, and then proceed to Narvik. So, knowing that Abisko is on the way to Narvik, I decided to stay on the train and see what happened. Naturally, I started to get a little nervous since I wasn’t certain the train was going to stop in Abisko, only half the announcement were repeated in English, I didn’t have a reserved seat, etc. But then I realized that there was absolutely nothing to worry about; I’m on my own schedule, all my plans are subject to change, I have a rail pass, I know I’m heading in the right direction, I have a bed reserved in Abisko, and I can find somewhere else to sleep if I can’t make it there from some reason. It was such a liberating moment to know that it didn’t matter if I was on the right train or if I got there on the right day, because my primary goal is just to travel for the sake of experiencing the journey, that I hope everyone can travel this way at least once in their life (and enjoy it, because I know a lot of people who wouldn’t). And I hope I can keep that mentality in place at other, more stressful, times that are sure to come.

The reason I’m taking this marathon rail journey is to get to one of Sweden’s favorite parks, Abisko, and the Kungsleden trail, which passes through it. That also means this is my first train trip where 95% of the people on the train are carrying backpacks, wearing convertible shorts/pants, and noticeably overdue for a shower (I told you it was a good thing I can open the windows). What’s funny is seeing all these hardcore backpackers and backcountry campers makes me feel a little bit like we’re all part of a community, even though I’m staying in the lodge and my tolerance for camping maxes out at about 4 days, and the community smells more than a bit like feet. I guess it’s because almost everyone on this train decided to leave mid-week and ride for a full day -- or more, since some of them are coming direct from Germany -- just to get out to where there’s nothing but hiking and fishing and camping and nearly 22 hours of daylight. My trip up until now has been pretty urban-centric, and I’m itching to get off the train and just walk in the woods and see what’s up here. Short, scrawny trees, from the looks of it.

The river draining to Abikso Lake

One other thing I’ve been becoming more and more aware of over the last 3 weeks is the quality of high-latitude light. In short, it is terrible for photography, and spectacular for pasty white boys such as myself. Most of the day, the light is very high, very sharp, and makes everything look flat, which is part of the reason I haven’t taken as many photos as I usually do. However, I can sit out in this sun for hours at a time and not get burned! It’s my own personal catnap heaven; I just better not get used to it or I’m going to be a briquette after my first day in Greece. But meanwhile, in an exceptional bit of luck (aka, thanks global climate change!), the weather is predicted to be sunny and warmer than usual for the duration I’m in Abisko. I was planning on this being the coldest portion of my entire round-the-world, excepting Antarctica, and instead I may have to break out the shorts during the day.