So, along the way to Balastram, a seaside village reachable only by ferry, the sun is out some 20 hours a day. That means that it is bright on the peaks (which have considerable snow) and the water when you go to bed and even brighter when you wake up — which I’ve only begun to do.

It’s warm enough to be in shorts, and hiking into the mountains, which yesterday I did again. Sorta like camping in Maine only more pleasant. Perhaps we should consider Norway fjoirds as an alternative to Misery Pond.

Right now we’re on a catamaran ferry headed to Bergin, a bit like island hopping in Greece but greener and more modern. I’m with lawyer friends from Singapore, among others, and last night on the veranda we discussed how their relatively new country, really only post-war, has better mass transportation and levy protection and planning, borrowing from the Dutch, than either Boston or New Orleans, respectively.

Not that green transport or disaster anticipation are what we excel at. But you would think we could at least exploit the best practices from others, and that the Green line from Newton could be smoother and quicker, and most of New Orleans, outside the French Quarter, wouldn’t have to look like a war zone.

The Norweigens, by the way, were concerned about offending the US in their opposition to the Iraq war. I tried to tell the Norweigen mergers lawyer I sat with at a formal dinner that they would do a better service by speaking frankly.

He goes skiing at night when returning from work, simply walks out the door and down a slope – only disadvantage is it’s dark by 3 pm in winter here. Guess that’s why it’s daylight forever in summer.

Which brings me back to where this note started. What you should know is that there is a stuffed owl perched on the front mast of this boat. I will leave each of you to ponder the meaning of that.

Best from the outback,

Mark Schreiber