Until the north goes no further

Two window seats, one destination

Suawi had packed nothing for this journey. No charging cable, no raincoat, not even spare paws. Being a plush lioness, she was already quite well equipped with her own fur. Nick had thought of everything else. The white Tesla held blankets, bags and the prospect of a great many kilometres heading north.

Gina was already waiting. The big Great Dane had a gentle muzzle, soft ears and a look that could somehow find room even on an occupied seat. She gave Suawi a brief, satisfied sniff. Her little friend was coming too. That settled the most important part of the preparations.

At their first stop, Suawi draped herself over the parked car’s wing mirror. Gina looked out of the rear window. “All the way to the top,” Suawi explained. Gina blinked. As long as someone remembered to stop for breaks, she had no objection to the top. When they set off again, every last lion paw came back inside the car, of course.

About that pillow

Sweden slipped past the windows in long green ribbons. Lakes appeared between the trees, vanished again, then made way for another lake. Suawi tried to count them. At seventeen she lost track and decided that “lots” was a sufficiently precise travel measurement.

At a quiet shore, the blanket was spread out. Gina turned around once, lay down and very carefully lowered her chin onto Suawi’s back. She liked doing that. She never tugged or chewed, and she certainly never wanted to hurt her lioness. She had simply found the best pillow in the world.

Suawi glanced over her shoulder. “I’m actually the travelling companion.” Gina breathed out contentedly. “With an extra feature,” Suawi added. Then she lay quite still. She was a little proud, really. Not every lioness was considered so comfortable by such a big friend.

Someone with a proper mane

At one stop they met Ellie, a piebald horse. She had a long, pale mane, warm breath and apparently all the time in the world. Suawi sat on a low tree stump. From there she could almost meet Ellie eye to eye. Provided Ellie lowered her head far enough.

Gina stayed close. Usually she was the biggest animal on their outings. Today even she had to look up. Ellie sniffed Suawi, then Gina. Suawi kept her tail still, just in case. She did not want its tuft mistaken for an unusually interesting blade of grass.

“You have a lovely mane,” she said politely. “I don’t need one. Mine would only get caught in the zip.” Ellie snorted. Gina shook an ear. Suawi decided that they both agreed with her. And that a journey could perfectly well bring friendships that needed no shared language.

A window seat without a window

A little later, Suawi was sitting on Ellie’s back. She had never been on a horse before. Certainly not on a draft mare this big. From up here, even Gina looked a little smaller. Suawi rested both front paws in front of her and surveyed the meadow. “A window seat without a window,” she observed. “And with a mane.”

Ellie began to walk at a leisurely pace. At the first step, Suawi wobbled. At the second, she wobbled along. By the third, she had worked out that riding was apparently a matter of wobbling together. Gina walked beside them, glancing up at her every now and then. “Don’t worry,” Suawi called. “I’ve still got all my paws!” Her tail tuft bounced in time.

Ellie stopped beside a particularly juicy tuft of grass and lowered her head. Suawi leaned forward curiously. “Oh, I see. You recharge along the way too.” Ellie chewed contentedly. Gina sniffed the verge. Suawi had to laugh. The Tesla needed a charging station, Ellie needed a meadow, and all she needed just now was one more little ride. When the three returned, she gently stroked her new friend’s neck. “Let’s do that again. But I’m keeping the window seat.”

The north opens out

The further they drove, the smaller the trees became. Eventually they stood so far apart that Suawi suspected they had arranged a game of hide-and-seek. Beyond them lay rounded hills, bare rock, pale lichens and hollows of water that looked as though someone had stored pieces of sky in them.

During a stop in Finnmark, Gina climbed onto a flat rock. The wind lifted one of her ears. Suawi sat beside her and pressed both front paws firmly against the stone. “If I blow away, I’m the golden cloud with the tail.” Gina moved a little closer. That was her answer to most important things.

They stayed there a while. No television, no engine, just wind and a soft rustling in the low greenery. Suawi decided the north was not empty. You simply had to look a little longer. Gina did not even need to look. Her nose was already conducting a very thorough investigation.

The last bend before the sea

There was one more stop in Honningsvåg. Nick saw to supplies, the Tesla had a rest, and Suawi watched their onward route from the window. It could not be far now. She knew because every new hill made her think: it must be just beyond that one.

But beyond it there was another hill. Then a lake. Then a bend. Gina took it calmly. She had learnt that people used “nearly there” for very different distances. Suawi, on the other hand, sat a little straighter at every turn.

At last the plateau lay ahead. Beyond it, the land came to an end. The sea reached so far that Suawi said nothing for a moment. After all those roads, it was strangely lovely to arrive somewhere you could simply stand still.

A globe for two

The great globe at the North Cape had no solid sides. You could look straight through it into the sky. “Handy,” Suawi thought. “All the countries get some fresh air.” Gina sat beside her. As usual, Nick stayed behind the camera for the souvenir photograph.

The globe has stood here since 1978 and has become the North Cape’s familiar symbol. The plateau rises about 307 metres above the sea. Suawi was not particularly good with metres. But she knew that must mean an awful lot of plush lionesses stacked on top of each other. She preferred to stay on safe ground.

Just as they both looked their best, a gust swept through Gina’s ears and sent Suawi’s fur in a new direction. So the next photograph was not especially tidy. But you could tell at once what it felt like to be there. “That counts as a travel hairdo,” Suawi said. Gina looked as though it was exactly the hairdo she had always wanted.

A few steps, a very big view

Later, Suawi found a place by the railing, just as in Nick’s travel photographs. Her long front paws hung softly down. Gina stood beside her, checking whether the view was complete at her height too. It was. Sea, rock, clouds, and in between that feeling of being very far from home.

There was more to discover on the plateau: the stone obelisk commemorating King Oscar II’s visit in 1873, and the seven round reliefs of “Barn av Jorden” — Children of the Earth. Their designs came from seven children who met here in 1988 from different parts of the world. The monument was unveiled in 1989.

Suawi liked the idea that you could travel from far away and still leave something shared behind. Gina sniffed the breeze beside her. “We won’t leave any art,” Suawi said. “A few paw prints, at most.” Then she looked at her own soft fur. “And perhaps a little fluff. But that wasn’t on purpose.”

Not quite bedtime

That evening they found a quiet place to stop. Light still lingered above the hills. Suawi looked up at the sky, then down at the blanket. “Up here, the sun apparently doesn’t know when to stop.” Gina lay down anyway. She never waited for official permission to have a rest.

Nick set down a cup. Somewhere a spoon clinked. Suawi joined Gina on the blanket and watched the narrow band of pink above the water. She had imagined the far north would be louder. Perhaps a drum roll when they finally arrived. Instead, there was this quiet evening.

Gina’s head slowly grew heavier. Suawi shifted a little to make her friend comfortable. “Just five minutes,” she whispered. Not because she wanted to leave. But because five minutes sounded like something a very busy adventure lioness could allow herself. It turned out to be rather longer.

Dogs who made history

On the way back they stopped in Skibotn. There they met dogs who did not sniff, blink or even twitch an ear. They belonged to a monument: a flat silver depiction of a musher and his dogs. Suawi was given a place close beside them.

The man is Leonhard Seppala. Born in Skibotn in 1877, he later became known in Alaska as a sled-dog driver. When diphtheria broke out in Nome in 1925, several dog teams helped carry urgently needed serum through the winter cold. Seppala and his lead dog Togo covered a particularly demanding part of that relay.

Nick told them about snow, ice and dogs their people could depend on. Suawi listened with unusual quiet. Then she looked across at Gina. “You don’t have to carry serum through Alaska,” she said. “Coming along is enough.” Gina leaned her muzzle against Suawi. She had never intended to do anything else.

Collecting bends on the way home

Further south, the landscape grew taller and greener again. At Trollstigen, the road wound through the mountains in tight hairpin bends. White water tumbled over the rock, and Suawi could not decide whether to look up, down or towards the next turn.

“Did the trolls lay the road out like that?” she asked. Gina yawned. She had found a resting place where you mainly noticed bends because the view changed windows. At the next stop, legs and paws were stretched again. The Tesla charged. The two friends collected mountain air.

Suawi was no longer counting lakes. Or kilometres. She was thinking of horse breath, cold wind, the great globe and the silent dogs at the monument. It was astonishing how much fitted into a head already full of stuffing.

What mattered fitted on a blanket

As the journey slowly drew to a close, Suawi had not grown any bigger. She still had the same long paws, the same dark tail tuft and the same soft nose. Only when she looked out of the window did it seem that the world had grown a little wider.

One last time on this journey, Gina rested her chin on Suawi’s back. Very gently, as always. Suawi waited until her big friend had settled. Then she lowered her own head onto her front paws.

They had driven all the way to the North Cape, left countless bends behind and found an entire globe. But the best thing about the journey was neither particularly distant nor particularly grand. It was breathing warmly beside her. “Together again next time,” Suawi murmured. Gina was already asleep. Her chin stayed where it was. That was answer enough.