Later, as I go to sleep on the Sommarøy Arctic Lodge, the city is so quiet that it’s troublesome to inform the distinction between the hours – there isn’t a visitors, no basic noise, whatever the hour. Totally conscious of the irony, I set my alarm for 03:30 to see if I can be taught something concerning the fluidity of time from venturing out at what, anyplace else, may be thought of an ungodly hour.
