Fuck!



Fuck!



Fuckedifuckfuck!

A guided tour in my castillo

So, this is pretty much where the magic happens, Jamie Oliver-style. Except, the fuses blew every time I turned on the hot-plate. Anyway, I got a new chemical top, so I'm happy. Unfortunately I took the pictures before the new stuff came so you'll have to settle with this. But trust me.. magic happens!



My lounge, public room, living room, day room. Salon if you will.



Kingsize bed for kings. N'aa mean?



Office to the left in the picture, kitchen, entrance hall. You name it!



Another view of my office, and my salon. Yeah.



As a bonus I have to show something I thought was pretty amazing. And not the how-sweet-kind-of-amazing, but more like how-nasty-and-unhealthy-kind-of-amazing.. Check out the amount of grease six thin slices of bacon are capable of making! Sick!

Where was I?

So... Arriving in Spain after a shitload of hours, we were pretty stoked on spending the night in Barcelona. We drove around, almost blindly following the voice on the GPS trying to find a decent hotel and a place to park. We hit the bullseye on first attempt and found a hotel with this view. All thanks to Mr. Gaudi. I think Gaudi was a pretty awesome guy.



After Barcelona and Mr. Gaudi the drive went on down south. Welcome to fogland.

But when we came further/farther/whatever... More south.. there was an amazing weater. It was hot, it was sun, it was awesome. I even played tennis in my shorts. In january. Sick.



Buuuut as the journey continued, and we got closer to Granada, and thus, higher, we were so lucky to see the snow again. White, wet and yeah... that's pretty much it.

This was one of the highest points on the road (I think) and it was snow, and it was a pretty sign, so I took a picture of it. Yeah, that's what I do, I take pictures of things. Also, this was the last picture before destination so.. there you go.. You're welcome.



More to come!

Hvad laver du?

So, the journey continued with the "danish-boat" (which is a perfect translation btw). Or the ferry from Kristiansand to Hirtshals. We (me and myfather, my new co-pilot) got up at 7 in the morning, drove on board, had a good breakfast and made ourselves comfortable for a three hour trip. It felt quite good. Leaving the snow and all. So.. a bit wavy... nothing to worry about... A little bit more wavy.. And then a little bit more. Four people in my close circulating area of space, one might say.. puking. The staff trying to prevent the interior from falling apart. Semi-successful. Nothing to do but get a glass of water, stare out the window, concentrate on not to be one of those who turn their insides - out. Great success! No puke today (To the man who had just ordered breakfast, only to be in the center of puke fest vol. 12.. I sympathize with you)!

So, safe and sound on the island of Denmark, this is not what we had hoped for. Snow. Thank God the godforsaken island is a flat one, and pretty straight forward. Three hours to cross the country, I think.

Windmills. Wow. Who would know?

So this is pretty much where the fun started. From Flensburg, Germany and all the way south. We were supposed to be in Frankfurt at 8 in the evening. But King Winter, had some plans on his own. 20 km/h for at least two hours, and up to 80 km/h (at the most) for two hours more, kind of leads to a degree of delay. We arrived in Frankfurt (or almost) at 2 a.m. Six hours later than planned. O joy. Queue and autobahn is the best! More later.

Madre mia

So the story starts 243km previous to the picture at the top, driving from Tromsø to Narvik. Due to the onset of pictures, let's call this part one.

As I was currently driving, I had to ask my mother to do a straight-outta-Narvik-drive-by-shooting with the camera, and the result is the picture at the top. The intended result of course, is the picture below. No hating. Unfortunately, the destination is not to be found on the signpost, but let's just write it down here: Destination: Granada, Distance: a shitload of km.

So, part two: about 1000 km later, I picked up my new co-pilot. Esben.

Part three: It turned out my windscreen washer malfunctioned. It froze. Not difficult to comprehend when it turns out that this was to be the coldest winter since God knows when. Anyway, despite the -26.5 degrees celcius, we kicked the cold-weather's ass, and heated up the windscreen washing fluid with some construction-heater-thing. Yeah, that's what it's called! Construction-heater-thing.

Part four: Lookylooky at the nice birdie!

Part five: The last destination in Norway before heading off to the land of Europe! More on that later!

Roll on up!

What's for dinner?

Fuck you and fuck you swineflu. And fuck you Mr. Media. Especially you. In fact, you are the reason why I choose to use energy on this. I am so SICK of people scared to death due to your "accurate" presentation of what's going on in the world. This and the fact that people uncritically believe everything you say makes me wanna slap you (and them) in the face with a Fu#¤in cod. It's kind of funny actually. People believe that egg and bacon are the most dangeruos thing, with no focus whatsoever on the seasoning. Bird this, swine that, and no one gives a crap about the seasonal flu. Estimated rate of deaths by swineflu in infected non-risk groups (norwegians) are 0.001% according to the norwegian Minister of Health, and just to compare with the seasonal flu, between 1000 and 1500 dies from it every winter...

Of course, Mr. Media, you haven't been all that bad. You've probably done some good for a different subject you've used some energy on, namely the financial crisis. People buying gauze masks, anti bac and newspapers to read all about it. And my guess is.. In a few years, the aftermath is one hell of a market for people working with hypochondria, anxiety and stress-related disorders in general.

Let's hope I'm right!


Daniel