Is it only German cars that read outside temperatures in half degree increments ? Minus 20.5 is not something I can relate to ( it just sounds really cold ) and wonder of the Reindeer blocking the road notice.
The winter market in Jokkmokk is just stirring when we arrive. We talk to Kristen who is beautifully adorned in traditional Sami dress and arrange to drop by later to take her portrait. Later turns out to be a bad time as she is surrounded by an arc of camera wielding tourists and poor Kristen is grinning hard. I offer her my snappy camera and suggests she photographs the tourists but she is too polite and declines.
Stefan lounges on a wooden chair surrounded by his kills, now brought back to ‘life’ in various climbing, flying, crawling ( and growling ) poses. He is a man of few words.
Drinking coffee in the Sami cafe we unsuccessfully try to solicit a Sami woman for a picture but instead strike up a conversation with Tommy who is an artist living in Jokkmokk. We will meet him tomorrow by his snow sculpture of an imagined animal.
Tommy knows Anders. Anders is a Life on the line hero, photographed sitting at his table next to his bear. Tommy is here, and it seems is the bear. The bear doesn’t remember me ( he sees lots of people ) but I admit that I’m pleased to see him.
More deceased animals ( there is a theme here ). Karl-Erik has invented a fox trap that snares the unsuspecting animal without injury ( so he can be dispatched unharmed ). His hat is interesting.
The market is now busy, artisinal crafts sit side by side with mass produced tat. Indoors ( in the warm ) is the Sami art show. Here there is more integrity and we find two sitters for tomorrow morning. A passing wolf-wearer is conscripted.
Further encounters and conversations. Sweden is ( in an experts view ) sadly not a creator of fine sausages. The curator of the finest museum on the arctic circle will be given my card ( I hope ). The cold gets the better of me and those German heated seats beckon but a visit to the supermarket is required before heading south. Here, outside the Coop, we bump into Brigitte ( or rather she reverses into me ). Zero insurance excess keeps me relaxed and the only damage is the dealer nameplate which is lying sadly in snow. I mistake the brightly coloured clothing of Brigette and Ina for Sami but I am soon put right. Jesus it seems is coming back soon and my new friends have been singing the message outside the supermarket. I wave off the damage and am hugged within an inch of my life by new friends before a five minute guide to redemption ( while Martin gets in the cheese ). We will meet at 11am tomorrow for a portrait ( and salvation ).
