The Sámi call it Badjelánnda – the Higher Land. It’s part of Laponia and a favourite location for those who want to be on their own for a bit. In the beginning of autumn our co-worker Håkan Stenlund sets his sights on Consul Persson’s cabin. A lonesome trek back.
“– one of those who has had the desert for a pillow and called a star his brother. Alone. But loneliness can be a communion”.
The wind is a bit chilly in the shadow cast by the Sulitelma massif. I’ve put my tent up by the shores of Lake Sårjåsjaure, even if there’s space in the house I’ve actually come here to visit. I’m not overly fond of houses. What I’d really like to do is sleep outside, underneath the sky, but the weather won’t allow it today. The snow falling on the peaks around me has transformed into a drizzle down here, 860 metres above sea. The one-man tent is the best solution to the problem.
The house I’m referring to, by the way, is ‘Consul Persson’s Cabin’ at Sårjåsjaure – on the map it’s called ‘Sårjåsjaure Cabin’ – along the North Calotte Trail (Nordkalottleden). But it’s more commonly referred to as Consul Persson’s Cabin, a classic in the Swedish mountains. Dag Hammarskjöld, the former Secretary-General of the UN, used to come to Sårjåsjaure with his friends. His book, ‘Markings’, is the only company I allow myself on this trek.
I’ve read the book again and again, my paperback is falling apart, but it always deserves another read. So even if I walk on my own, I’m not truly alone. I catch some trout by the Sårjåsjaure outflow with my fly fishing rod. One of them becomes a late dinner. The rest of them I release again. I don’t need them. The trout are biting hard and distinctively at the flies I cast as bait. You can tell autumn is approaching. Fish, like people, get less picky in autumn. It’s about fattening up. I cook the fish on the camping stove in the vestibule. It tastes lovely on crispbread.