And I’m talking about Petersburg on Mitkof Island, part way down the Inside Passage. The beautiful town, that is; it was founded by Norwegians and there’s still a very strong culture here. A gem of a town – another place I’d like to spend 3 months of the year in. So far there’s Barry, Australia, Chiang Mai, Busan and Seward, and now Petersburg. That makes 1.5 years. I’ll work it out somehow.
We were rudely awakened at 3.30am by the loudspeaker on the boat, the good ship ‘Matanuska’.. Actually, I was so cold I barely slept, so quite welcomed the opportunity to move around. By the time we groggily disembarked at Petersburg and drove to the wilderness campsite, I was in a foul mood, as any attempt to sleep on the bus was futile: nowhere to lie down, sitting at a table, sliding across every time the bus went round a corner. When we finally arrived at the campsite, which was in a beautiful spot with views to heavily wooded islands and snow-capped mountains beyond, it was difficult to get enthusiastic due to total zombie-ism. I managed to stumble off with about 5 others, leaving the rest fast asleep on the bus. 
Getting the tent up was a pain, as the entire area seemed to have concrete foundations, but a few bent pegs later, and with help from Jonny, I finally nailed the base of the tent to the ground – in among tall grasses, sending swarms of mosquitoes sky high in the attempt. By 6.30 I was stretched out in the best tent in the world, and fast asleep shortly after. 
Then the sounds of breakfast being assembled woke me up 2 hours later. After some food, I had a little walk on the beach, gathered my thoughts and some speckly stones.
Surrounded by such beauty – the photos don’t do the place justice – my mood lightened and I felt ready for the next experience. Carpe Diem. Seize the day. Up and out. On the bus again and off to Petersburg for a few hours. I am very aware that I’m not twenty any more, and some deprivations, especially sleep, certainly matter now. But that said, we humans are very resilient, and given enough coffee can stay awake for hours. If I’m rambling, then that’s the result of sleep deprivation, a well known torture. Whatever.
Petersburg is a gorgeous, genuine, untouristy sort of place. Where men are men and the seafood is fresh. The houses are of wood, painted beautiful pastel colours – and I want one. People are courteous, cars stop for you (as elsewhere in Alaska) and direct you happily to places where you can get free wifi. We found the Coastal Cold Storage, where fresh catches are – yes – put in cold storage ready for freezing or canning. They also cook and serve you with the freshest, tastiest morsels. The prawns are out of this world. So that was where I whiled away a few hours, plugged into their socket and using their wifi. And tomorrow I may do the same.
The shops stock arts and crafts made by locals as well as stuff from farther afield. The local crafts have quite inspired me – particularly in ‘Wild Celery’ – and I’ve made my usual collection of leaflets with website info. I also bought a bag of local beach glass, collected from the shores on this island by schoolchildren. A bargain! And it saves me bending. The beaches around our campsite are littered with tree trunks and branches, bleaching and nicely aging in the Alaskan weather. Driftwood of the best quality. I suggested taking a tree trunk along to New York on the roof of the bus, as I’d love to make a totem depicting this journey of ours. But I’ll have to make do with something made in Wales. The tree, that is. I’ve been collecting pins throughout Alaska, and they will be permanent reminders of this stage of the journey.
An ancient mariner called Neil got on our bus for a chat in the car park in Petersburg, and had a good read of the Green Tortoise brochure. He sails – or motors – commercially across the Pacific and is off to Hawaii soon. A nice life. He was amused that we were heading for New York. He says there are only two things worth going there for: publishing companies and jazz. I’m glad I’m going!
On the way back from town, we witnessed a phenomenon: a rainbow halo around the sun. Strange and beautiful. Pollution from our planet… but lovely. Now we’re back at the campsite, sitting around the campfire, with some eating their own food (me among them) and others cooking up Michele’s recipe for Thai chicken curry. Right next to my tent. Hopefully it’ll keep the mozzies away… but will it attract bears? I’m closing for now, need food then I’m retiring early to my tented palace to read the latest thriller on my Kindle. And outside, Andy has been strumming his guitar and Sully is now murdering it. Killing us softly with his song. Night night.
Interlude…..
It is now morning – the 4th June, I think. A Saturday. Back in town (Petersburg) and about to tuck into a good breakfast at the Coastal Cold Storage again. And plug in my laptop and get wifi. It rained in the night and although my tent stayed snug and warm, I did have to brave the wet to get to the toilet shack in the early hours. With my tent bag fetchingly over my head I swatted off the mosquitoes who apparently don’t go to bed, even in the rain. They are huge in this part of the world, but do not scream like the ones I’m used to. So you don’t hear them coming. I have tried to reason with them, tried to develop a symbiotic relationship with them where they don’t bite and I don’t swat. But they let me down, nasty little ****s**B***tr*****.
It was still raining at get-up time, and probably will all day, so plans have changed. I got myself and belongings into the bus, had a cup of tea, then braved it again outside to pack up the sodden tent and stow it in the hold. This is real camping, this is. Not the same without rain! We have abandoned our lovely wilderness site, now enveloped in low cloud, and are spending the rest of the day exploring the delights of Petersburg.
I went for a walk down to the harbour – all sorts of interesting things to see: a lovely building proudly flying the Norwegian flag, a viking ship and lots of houses on stilts to cope with the rising tides up little creeks. I’m looking forward to having a last go at the shops and will try not to spend more $$$. I have already sent two boxes home (expect another one, Marilyn, posted from Juneau 2 days ago) and was not really planning on another… but who knows. I tell a lie. I’m already planning to send home my sleeping bag and tent from New York. Unless excess baggage on Aer Lingus is peanuts.
We are off to the ferry at 5.15 this afternoon. Linda and I have booked a cabin, so will have proper beds and an ensuite shower instead of sitting up all night. I reckon we deserve it after
getting soaked packing up our tents. Well, my smoked salmon, egg and cheese muffin has arrived, along with a huge latte, so I’m signing off for today. Prince Rupert is next, then we’re off overland through Canada – and with any luck will see Dave!
Postscript…
I’ve included a couple of photos as we sailed out of Petersburg on the “Taku”, heading for Prince Rupert. As we left the harbour, we had to navigate between what must be the narrowest channel a boat this size can go through. As you can see from the photo, there are so many buoys, very close together, and we zig-zagged our way through. Clever!
Patamateria 