In Svolvær, an important place for cod fishing on the Lofoten archipelago, the season was just over. It was on April 14, 1993 and the harbor waters were stinkin‘ from the leftovers. I stood outside the boat on the shore, where fishermen had just quit the place making accomodation on ships for a night’s stay available and cheap. But arriving in the early afternoon with the MS Nordstjernen, I took my backpack and climbed the hill near the cemetery to check out how far I could get, or rather how close to that famous Svolværgeita.
Losing touch and almost falling at some point, I got hold on a rock on the otherwise slippery and wet ground. Catching my breath I realized how lucky I was. And how stupid. No rope, no equipment, no experience at all in climbing. Pulling out my kettle, I prepared a tea to calm down and to figure how to get back. It was in fact so steep that I knew I had to take another return route if I wanted to get down there alive. As you see, I somehow made it back safely, but the one thing I will never forget is the spectacular sight from just above the „Goat“ across the city of Svolvær. Enjoy!
