Odyssey 11

World Odyssey

Anywhere but Paris

Friday 27 July

Flying over Greenland is flying over another planet. The country is a completely featureless plateau of ice rising gradually from the sea to a maximum height of 3 kilometers at its center. The country is basically the world’s largest ice-skating rink. With ice rising to 10,000 feet and overcast skies at 12,000 feet, we’re left with only a sliver of horizon for orientation. White-out conditions make it impossible to judge our height over the ice. For the duration of the four hour flight, all eyes are focused on the instruments, without which we could easily become one with the ice.

While crossing the icecap, we spot a tiny black object on the horizon (barely visible on the horizon in the photo above). At this point, anything non-white outside causes great excitement in the cockpit.

We think it’s only a few kilometers away, but 50 kilometers later we are still closing in on this mysterious object. Speculation is rampant. Michel thinks it’s an airplane. I think it’s a meteorite. Michel thinks it’s a campsite. I think it’s an animal. Silently we both suspect that the other is hallucinating from lack of oxygen at 11,000 feet. Eventually we reach the object which is an abandoned early warning radar station built by the US to warn of Soviet bombers. This rather spooky place, which we thought was only “a few kilometers away”, has taken us 30 kilometers off course. But at least our curiosity is satisfied.

At the eastern coast of Greenland, the icecap meets the sea as massive glaciers carving their way through rocky valleys. Slivers of glaciers dot the ocean as floating islands of ice. Over the water, we fly like drunkards from iceberg to iceberg and stare out the window in awe of their beauty.

A second four hour flight eastward over arctic waters brings us to Iceland. The person naming these countries must have been blind, as Iceland is volcanic and full of life while there is not a speck of green anywhere in Greenland. Greenland is Ice and Iceland is Green. I’d like to propose an exchange of names.

Saturday 28 July

After a relaxing soak in the hot sulfur baths outside Reykjavik, we fly along the southern coast of Iceland. On the agenda for the day are waterfalls, volcanic islands, and houses half-buried in lava.

We fly two hours over water to the Faeroe Islands just north of Scotland. Europe is closing in on us, and way too fast for that matter. We land at the capital city Torshavn, which is draped in fog for our arrival. To our great luck, it is National Day and the streets are filled with festivities and tourists. To our great misfortune, it is National Day

and there is not a single hotel room to be had anywhere on the island. We return to the heli and make a half-hearted attempt to “camp” using our orange emergency tent. The wind quickly does away with this little joke. Re-motivated, we return to the city and manage to find a room.

Monday 30 July

We fly our last scuba-equipped section to the northern coast of Scotland. We’ll spend a few days in London to re-adjust to civilization. It starts to dawn on us that we’re about to finish the trip. Neither of us is happy about it. We want to fly some more, in fact anywhere but Paris.

Thursday 2 August

After avoiding the inevitable for three days, we cross the English Channel and with a short flight to Paris conclude the Odyssey. After the bubbly wears off, I feel no elation, nor any particular sense of accomplishment. Rather I feel that a privileged journey was granted. Over 8 weeks, we flew on a magic carpet through landscapes of unimaginable beauty, experienced dozens of cultures and observed the lives of thousands of people. We saw a slice of this planet that not many people get to see, yet came away realizing how much more of this earth is left to explore. This was a once-in-a-lifetime journey, or perhaps not… The minute we arrive in Paris, a map of the world is already open on the table.