Trot Trot to Boston to Loft Off to Lofoten

Tomorrow (Wednesday) night, my daughter drives me into Logan Airport in Boston. I'll be catching a flight to Keflavik International Airport in Reykjavik, Iceland, for a layover while waiting for my flight to Oslo (Christiania to you old Ibsen contemporaries).




Here are the blogs of the people I love, who I will be meeting there with their significant others, also great friends of mine:

        Aisha, our host

        Helmuth Filipowitsch

        Peter Garner

        Paula Grenside

        Carol Saba

I am heartbroken to find out today that Judy Lewis and her husband Ernest will not be able to make it.

Those blogs are rich with creativity and poetry, and will probably be better updated than this one for the next two weeks, about our trip with pictures and all. Check them out to see if some excellent poetry gets written. That's what they do.

After two days in Oslo, we fly up to Bodo, into the Arctic Circle (defined by midnight sun), and take a ferry to Lofoten, where we will be for 5 days.




Here is a great link to where we will be:

        Lofoten Islands

If you want to check out some pictures on the web, here is the image search:

        Google Lofoten images.





by Henrik Ibsen in 1864


translated by Fydell Edmund Garrett in 1912


Gone


He last, late guest
To the gate we followed;
Goodbye--and the rest
The night-wind swallowed.

House, garden, street,
Lay tenfold gloomy,
Where accents sweet
Had made music to me.

It was but a feast
With the dark coming on;
She was but a guest--
And now, she is gone.