The train to Narvik is running on the old Malmbanen tracks. Now and then we to stop to let the ore wagons overtake. 40 or 50 wagons long, it seems as if you experience the same span of time over and over again while looking out of the train window.
Their repeating shape and the rhythmic sound seem to represent manmade order around here.

I try not to take too many pictures. This landscape is too wide and beautiful to be captured in an amateur’s photo. There are my glasses, a lens, a display, a train’s window between me and the reality out there. I can’t touch the stones or smell the air, I don’t know how cold these romantic little pools are.
It is depressing to cross this world without being able to use my own senses to gain any knowledge about it, but I guess I have to get used to it for now.
I am in company of a travel group from Bangalore. They are holding their phones up to the windows to not miss a single sight. After two hours I give up and join them, and like on a boat we slosh around the wagon whenever there’s a frozen lake to be seen or the pale sun is piercing the snowy clouds.