My room in Tromsø faces directly at 50 meters the statue of Roald Amundsen. This I didn't plan. I've had the man on my mind for a while now, but I sure as hell didn't think that I was going to have him almost stare into my room. I feel relieved that he's in a profile posture also facing the Arctic Cathedral, so I can hide from his gaze. So what's the first thing to do? Salute, of course, ask for a blessing or something. I go down from the 5th floor, go over to him, and say: “Roald, my man, God bless you. You were cool.” I feel that I'm in sync with him. On disappearing. He also did it. I say to him: “Roald, do you want to know a secret?” He does. “Up here in the Arctic I'm waiting for a revolution, for the apocalypse, or the end of the world. I'm waiting for the authorities to inform me: we're sorry to inform you that we have a state of emergency, and you cannot leave the country.” I imagine myself not even blinking and saying: “I understand, sirs, you need to do your jobs. I understand perfectly. You'll get no hassle from me. Thank you.” With my back turned, I head for the farm with 300 Alaskan huskies. No state of exception can keep me from flying over the Norwegian ice. “Moosh, ho! Furry brothers, we are not going back!”


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