Wed
8 Apr
2015

The spell that the east coast has on some is strong. Magne­tic. For many, coast is coast. East, west, who cares. Buth for others, the east coast is some­thing spe­cial. A mani­fes­ta­ti­on of remo­ten­ess. It may help when the first visit the­re took place on a trek­king tour and not by snow mobi­le. Then, the distance has a total­ly dif­fe­rent mea­ning. Shorter legs of the who­le trip requi­re days and not hours or just minu­tes. Whe­re the land­scape appears as a con­ve­ni­ent high­way in the win­ter, you have got end­less tun­dra in the sum­mer, swam­py wet­lands, tor­ren­ti­al melt­wa­ter rivers, morains, gla­ciers, … the who­le lot. Just read Mar­tin Conway’s „First crossing of Spits­ber­gen“. Recom­men­ded!

And when the east coast is quite easi­ly acces­si­ble, it does not neces­s­a­ri­ly loo­se that charme. Quite the oppo­si­te. It is a gre­at plea­su­re not to resist the tempt­a­ti­on as often as pos­si­ble. Ice, wide­ness, silence …

Enough writ­ten for today. The pho­tos will do the rest.

Click on thumb­nail to open an enlar­ged ver­si­on of the spe­ci­fic pho­to.