Looking back
- Alexis
- Dec 1, 2023
- 14 min read
Updated: Apr 14
Note : post published December 1st 2023
It has now been 1 year, 1 month and 1 day since I set foot in Tromsø in northern Norway. What could possibly have happened ? Why am I living in this small town within the Arctic Circle where it's dark for 3 months a year, reasonably warm for about 1 week in July and where snow and rain are part of the clearest days ? Why don't penguins get cold feet ?
To all these questions I could answer "Why not?" and maybe I wouldn't be too far from the truth. But firstly that would be too easy, secondly this post would have no interest and thirdly I would have make you waste precious seconds reading up to this point.
For intellectual honesty towards yourself, myself and the penguins, I suggest you put on your earphones, your headset, or any system allowing you to listen to sound because it's through music that I'll endeavor to answer all these questions. Who hasn't been transported back to a memory simply by listening to a melody ? Always with music in my ears, mine remain indelibly linked to the songs I listen to, like the soundtrack of a movie.
But far from me the idea of giving an exhaustive review of this past year in Tromsø, I'd rather take you on a musical journey, showcasing a fine selection of life moments within the northern reaches of the Arctic Circle.
Turn the volume up to the max, it's going to swing.
Morning motivation : Junior Senior - Move your feet
I'll start by cheating a bit because the first track isn't associated with a specific memory but rather with a routine.
My life as a bartender is regularly marked by daytime shifts where I swap my shakers for a barista/waiter outfit. I have to admit, alternating night and day shifts has somewhat disrupted my sleep schedule. Adding the polar night that covers Tromsø with its black veil during winter, waking up can become challenging and getting out of bed heroic on some days.
To immerse yourself better in this memory, imagine a Monday morning. You've worked both night shifts over the weekend, getting home at 6:00 AM on both Saturday and Sunday. You feel the fatigue in your legs, your arms, and basically every inch of your body that contains even a hint of muscle. The Sunday off seems far too short; you're already back for a new week and this time it's you opening the place.
Monday morning, around 9:00 AM.
Eyes still a bit glued together while waiting for the bus, energy level as high as the outside temperature, around -10°C. But all it takes is pressing play on my faithful MP3 player to kickstart things : Junior Senior's groove pulls me out of my drowsiness. The melody carries me away, a smile creeps onto my face and I'm on the verge of busting out my best dance move. There, I've forgotten about the fatigue.
But I prefer letting my mind wander, gazing at the snow-capped mountains that I now know so well. Let's not forget it, I'm in Norway, it's not exactly Rio Carnival.
Thanks to my brothers for helping me put together my morning playlist titled "Motivation".
Polar hike : Moby - Porcelain & Flower
Back to the beginning of the year now, it's Tuesday January 3, 2023. The cold, the snow, and the polar night have comfortably settled in for a few months. Barely recovered from the New Year's festivities, I set myself a challenge : why not start the year with a solo snowshoe hike ? Besides, it'll be a chance to test my new headlamp and shed the excesses of the past days.
I choose a route I have already taken a few months earlier, just to not venture too far into the unknown (refer to the post 👉 The Visitors). In hindsight, I salute that wise decision because the task turned out to be much more adventurous than anticipated.
Let me explain. Firstly, waking up too late only allows me to enjoy the faint daylight for an hour as I walk along a perfectly groomed cross-country ski trail. Once I veer off the trail to find the path I have taken a few months earlier, I am pleasantly surprised to find out that, with all that snow, well, the path has disappeared. Especially since there has been a 50-centimeter snowfall the day before and apparently I am the first person of the year to take this route. Sure the snow looks beautiful but now that night is falling, I quickly realize that orienting myself is going to be the biggest challenge of my journey. I turn on my headlamp and venture into the terrain, carefully observing the surrounding contours. With a bit of luck, I'd recall the route as I go along. Next time I'll set off earlier.
Then, despite being equipped with quality rented snowshoes, I quickly realize that I am sinking knee-deep into the thick powder. The ascent is tough. I feel like a Smurf climbing a giant's staircase, so much so that after just two hours of the planned six-hour climb, I feel my legs burning. Whenever I stop my muscles cool down and resuming amplifies the pain even more. The solution is clear : I won't stop until I reach the cabin. Come on kiddo, just four more hours.
Soon enough the battery of my (not-so) faithful MP3 player dies, apparently not a fan of the cold. It makes sense, the temperature is -18°C with a wind chill making it feel like about -1000°C. No big deal, I still have my phone where I should find some motivating tunes. Yes that's true, but I only have two songs and of course no mobile network available. I start regretting my old-school approach of not using Spotify. So it will be Moby who will accompany me until the finish line.
Now that I have conquered the toughest of terrains not without difficulty, I arrive on a plateau surrounded by mountains. The biting cold wind whipping my face has cleared the clouds, revealing a magnificent moon illuminating my path. However my memory is starting to fail me; I'm no longer certain of the direction to follow. Checking the GPS on my phone inevitably means taking off my gloves, stopping for a few seconds in the biting wind, and feeling intense pain coming back to my legs. Not an option, it'll take ages if I stop every fifteen minutes; I need to try something else. I look up and see the moon winking at me, here is my solution. I'll simply compare the direction on the GPS with the moon's position and I'll have my reference point!
After an hour of walking, doubts start creeping in; the surrounding mountains still don't ring any bells. A quick check of the GPS reveals that I'm veering significantly eastward. Smart as a brick, in my haste I forgot that the moon moves across the sky and isn't a trustworthy fixed point. I finally understand the mischievous wink she gave me earlier. But I don't lose hope and scan the sky for another fixed point. My choice naturally falls on the brightest shining star and I can confidently resume my path. Well... confident until the sky clears, revealing the entire universe and its billions of stars. Where did mine go ? Third and final course correction, I finally recognize the surrounding contours; I'm going to make it to that darn cabin !
Finally, it's approximately after 5 hours, 24 minutes, and 39 seconds that I reach my destination. The thermometer reads -16°C inside but I know Norwegian stoves, a few logs and I'm sure to turn the shelter into a sauna. Challenge achieved. In less than an hour the temperature rises to 28°C. I'm so warm that I shed my layers of clothes, keeping only my underwear and socks. I just hope not to be caught off guard by another hiker passing by, risking looking like a madman. Tromsø is a small town where rumors spread quickly you know.
The night's sleep is restorative. Despite the aches and pains all over my body, I'm delighted to resume my journey in the early morning. The wind has calmed and I'm alone in this white paradise and this time I know the way.
Now, whenever I listen to Moby, I have this strange reflex to shiver but I know why.
Friday night : Frankie Knuckles - Your love
Where I work is a bit like my second home. It's a café and restaurant during the day, a cocktail bar in the evening and a dancing bar on weekends. The crowd varies depending on tourist seasons, weather and most importantly paydays.
So it's a Friday night in April, the Tromsø locals have received their paychecks mid-week and the evening promises to be lively. I start my shift at 6:00 PM, barely enough time to put on my work polo before it's time to set up the bar for the long night ahead. Like a pilot checking their plane before takeoff, I go through every point on the checklist while serving customers starting to flock to the bar, ordering their first liberating drink after a long work week. Syrups are ready, juices topped up, the fruit basket is filled, the ice bin is full, let's get the show on the road!
The DJ arrives a bit early, ordering as usual "one of each": a beer and a Fernet Branca.
Around 10:00 PM the bar starts to fill up. It's time to move the tables and set up the weekend dance floor. I almost forgot to turn on the disco ball that perfectly complements the DJ's groove. Thankfully, I can rely on Vida and Guido forming a formidable team. Now that we know each other well, there's no need to talk behind the bar to divide tasks; everything flows smoothly, simply, and efficiently. Despite the crowd, cocktails fly out at a breathtaking speed, beer flows, customers have smiles on their faces, the dance floor is packed, but most importantly we're enjoying the rush together. We run around, laugh, shake and between orders it's not uncommon for us to bust a few dance moves behind the bar. In short, we're having fun and making the most of it.
The night has flown by, it's already three in the morning and soon it'll be time to bid farewell to the last lingering customers. The DJ comes over and asks if I have a particular music request for the final song of the night and my answer is quick. A few minutes later as we begin to tidy and clean up, I see my request fulfilled. "Your Love" by Frankie Knuckles echoes in the almost empty bar and I can't help but sing along while wiping down the tables, much to the amused gaze of my colleagues. Another fantastic evening in what I now call "my" bar.
If you're ever in the mood to see me burst into song, you know just the tune to play now.
Return home : Renato Carosone - Tu vuo fa l'americano
Whether it's during the week or on the weekend, the shift always ends too late to catch the last bus. So the journey back home is on foot, rain or shine. I have to be honest, in the first months walking an hour in the cold to get back home was a bit of a challenge after a long night. Although occasionally the Northern Lights illuminated my path, I would have easily sacrificed them to be immediately in my warm bed.
Fortunately for me, I've changed accommodation since then and the daily hour-long walk has shortened to a mere 20 minutes, let's say 25 when the ground is frozen and turns into an ice rink, prompting an emperor-like waddle. I'm referring to the penguin walk not Napoleon.
So it's an early Saturday morning as I leave my colleagues, strangely full of energy after the lively evening we had and the small after-work beer we allowed ourselves. As usual, I put on my earphones and play a song recently heard in the movie "The Talented Mr. Ripley": 'Tu vuo fa l'americano.
I don't know why but that day I decide to change my route. Why always take the fastest path ? Why not venture out, take a tangent, make a sidestep ? The unknown begins here, the adventure starts now. This everyday epic takes me through streets I've never explored before, unveils new views on the fjord but most importantly allows me to truly appreciate the dance of the Northern Lights illuminating my path. This time I soak it all in. It even feels like they're waltzing to the rhythm of the Italian melody accompanying me. I feel good as if everything has perfectly aligned to offer me this show of sound and light.
This song has become a trigger. When it randomly pops up in my playlist, I can't help but take a step aside, break from the ordinary. There's no need to do something extraordinary; sometimes, even the smallest surprises are enough to spice up the most mundane of days.
Staff party : Anderson Paak – Celebrate
I'm aware of how lucky I am to work at my bar. Sure, I could say it's because of the selection of 15 different draft beers that delights me when I'm not working or the delicious dishes prepared by the kitchen before service. But I'd forget the main thing : a golden team. This merry band of colleagues quickly became a second family. With vastly different personalities, coming from all corners of the world and representing all age groups, we cultivate a team spirit that makes all other establishments in the city envious. In short, we are the soul of the bar.
Drawing from my experience as a bartender back when I was still in engineering school, I know how precious what we have is. So it felt inevitable after a few months behind the counter that we need to organize a proper staff party. Not just to celebrate the team but mainly to create memories together and continue fostering this crucial sense of family. Brainstorming sessions follow one another, ideas flow and finally we know what we are going to do. It is like a callback to our childhood, we embark on organizing a themed carnival (much to Jacques' dismay about the costumes, sorry buddy) with team competitions and rewards up for grabs. The theme ? Let's not make it too hard : find a costume that matches the first letter of your name. For the games we let our creativity roam while using our experience in the restaurant as a guiding thread : an obstacle course with trays full of water glasses, a cocktail-making challenge where each duo had one arm tied behind their back, a competition of who could blow out a candle the farthest away or even blindfolded beer pouring. While the atmosphere is festive the competitive spirit is intense. Everyone wants to win that bottle of Prosecco !
Once the Olympics are over, it is time to raise our glasses together and kick off the second part of the event, admittedly less playful but equally enjoyable. With a drink in hand, we play, laugh, drink, sing, and have a blast. An elevator chats with Ghostbuster and Jesus while Van Gogh challenges Zlatan Ibrahimovic to beer pong. In the background, Tina Turner, the Joker and a Yankees fan are playing a card game, all under the amused gaze of the Easter Bunny. Written like this it might sound bizarre, but I assure you it all makes perfect sense.
The games and drinks continue, fatigue starting to show for some and the group slowly dwindles. The hardiest ones stay until the early hours, swaying to Anderson Paak's groove, reshaping the world without worrying about the passing time.
A good time with friends, that's what it brings to mind when I listen to Anderson Paak.
Berlin interlude : Underworld – Rez
Even though I'm enjoying my new Arctic life, after a year away from my beloved France I'm starting to miss my family and friends. Modern means of communication can't replace sharing a beer on a terrace, swapping life stories or enjoying a good family meal while discussing everything and nothing. Almost nudging me into action, I find out that my bar will close for a few months for renovations, bingo, I'm spending the summer in France ! I'm looking forward to rediscovering the warmth of the sun on my skin, beers for less than ten euros, long philosophical evenings with my buddies and those precious moments with Papito, Mamito, Tonio, and Samuelito.
The journey back home is quite long and considering the state of the world burning up, flying isn't ideal especially for the wallet. So the decision is made to sacrifice the efficiency of a direct flight for a transit of a few days in Berlin and about 40 hours of travel by bus. It's true that for a small town, I was surprised by the vibrancy Tromsø can offer but it's incomparable to the electricity that flows through Berlin's nightlife. Exactly one year after my visit to the German capital, here I am back again to dive into its nightlife, guided by none other than the best companion ever : my buddy Pierrot.
After catching up on the latest developments in our respective lives it's time to get moving. Pierrot has everything organized. Better than the guidebooks he's got a list ready with bars, restaurants, exhibitions, and parties to explore; all that's left is deciding what we'll do tomorrow. Pierrot is the good guy.
To kick things off we dive straight into Thursday evening at one of the most iconic clubs in the capital. Only one room is open, deliberately keeping the number of attendees restricted for an evening dedicated to experimental music, a perfect warm-up for the weekend. I must admit the music was sometimes a bit too experimental for my untrained ears, but come the early morning, I discover the track that perfectly encapsulates the atmosphere of that evening and the ones to come over those four days : "Rez" by Underworld.
Like a pilgrim, I tirelessly return to this city with its uniquely distinct atmosphere. First, to catch up with my buddy Pierrot and make sure he still doesn't know how to speak German. Secondly, there's always something refreshing about visiting Berlin, even if it's not that far from France. Lastly, it's to enjoy some time within this bubble that makes you forget all life's worries for a while.
When I blast 'Rez' on my MP3 there's no need to talk to me, I'm in that bubble and nothing can interrupt me.
Halloween Party : Børns – Electric Love
Back to reality, summer is over and snow has already covered the mountains around Tromsø. The cold quietly settles in the city. After some chat with the bar team we all agree that we need to prepare a proper Halloween party. Decorations, a special menu for the occasion, costumes, a photo booth, ideas are flowing. The boss's directive is simple : we have creative freedom but within a limited budget, of course. So, armed with all our goodwill and high spirits we dive into decorating the bar and creating a new menu. We try out cocktails, get tangled up in our fake cobwebs, mess up a few shooter recipes, color light bulbs to set the mood, cut out bats, it's basically a full-on arts and crafts workshop.
Then finally comes the time to create the masterpiece in the kitchen : the mega pumpkin ! While I'm meticulously burning the edges of each poster specially created for the event to give them a scarier touch, I look at Vida deep in combat with the pumpkin, carving it out. Each of us is busy with tasks that are taking longer than expected and we both agree that working with music is always more enjoyable. So, we crank up the volume and start playing the playlist we are each going to contribute to. From French classic tunes to Norwegian rap mixed with a couple of electro tracks, we try to find common ground that suits both the pumpkin sculpting ambiance and the poster burning. Almost everything gets played and it's amusing to see how what I think she might enjoy immediately earns me a skeptical look tinted with a "No but... it's not too bad," which I'd interpret as a kind-hearted "What the f*** is that ?".
As strange as it may seem I give in a bit on an electro-pop song, far from my usual repertoire, but it fits perfectly within the walls of this kitchen : Børns - Electric Love.
Now linked to the memory of that Halloween preparation evening in the bar's kitchen, burning bits of posters, I can't help but go back a year and realize how utterly unpredictable that situation was.
Trusting life and allowing oneself to be surprised, that's what Electric Love is all about for me.
You now have a glimpse of what has happened during all this time and why I dug my hole in this small town in the Arctic Circle. As for the story about penguins not getting cold feet, I'll let you find out for yourself, did you think you were on Arte ?
I initially came to spend a few winter months and here I am still in the same place a year later. The town and the environment play a big role, but it's mainly the people I've met that keep me here. A new job, new friends, a new culture, that's ultimately what I came looking for and what I found. They say the grass is always greener on the other side, but here, with all the snow, we don't really see the grass. So why look at the other side ? There's still a plethora of things to discover and surprises to come, and I know it's up to me to make the most of it.
One thing is for sure, the adventure goes on and it continues through music.
To infinity and beyond 🚀
Bonus
Arriving in Oslo after 40 hours on the bus back to Norway, cursing my little brother for getting that song stuck in my head.
🎶 Désenchantée - Mylène Farmer
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