Sisimiut, Vestgrønland, GreenlandAn Ominous Start....
Alan may have recovered a little the day before but it sure was short-lived. The next morning, I woke to hear him coughing violently. Feverish and pale, I wondered just what else could go wrong with his health. He had been so sick for so long. How much more could he take?
I must admit that I was reminded of the person (name withheld) who had so explicitly told me "If anything happens to Alan, it will be on your head. And there will undoubtedly be a coronial inquiry and take my word for it, you will be implicated by the police.....". Had she really put a curse on us? It almost seemed so.... But despite being gob smacked by her audacity, it was actually hard to forget her cruel words when so much had gone wrong so far with our travels and health.
Selfishly, I also wondered how much more I could take.... Although I had been nothing as sick as Alan, I had been ill with gastric and cold issues for most of the tour, and the last thing I wanted was to have another respiratory infection.
Furthermore, lugging our heap of baggage around airport terminals really worried me. It was a major effort, without one or both of us being sick. And we still had six flights and a long distance train trip before we were home.
Feeling somewhat guilty, I wondered whether I should stay with Alan at the hotel instead of going dogsledding with Julia. To my relief Alan insisted that I keep my commitments. As he said, he had seen and heard so much about my appalling sledding history, and would not have been going dogsledding no matter how well he felt.
I was pleased to be going. I liked Julia and her team of friendly dogs, and I had actually been looking forward to a day of being outside in the backcountry. And out of the sick room....
Alan said that he couldn't eat so I went to breakfast on my own. The kind staff however, when asked if I could take Alan back a plate of fruit, made me up a complete tray of fruit as well as hot breakfast food for him. It was much appreciated. And Alan enjoyed some of it too.
Preparing for my Dogsledding Ride with Julia
I was in luck - well, for the time being... It was a glorious day and apparently, I was the only person on Julia's morning dog sled ride. The hotel staff who had organised the tour took me aside before they drove me to Dog Sled Town just outside of town.
Hotel Sisimiut had some very good quality outdoor gear for their clients, and the staff took great pains to outfit me properly before I left. Once again, I resembled an over-fed astronaut with my thermals, jacket, padded pants, topped with super-sized overalls, boots and balaclava. But at least, I was comfortable and warm.
Remembering my dog sled ride in Ilulissat, I bought some chemical hand and foot warmers. They are really worthwhile for outside activities like sledding where you are not doing a lot of physical exercise. Well, that is you are not supposed to be....
Arriving at Julia's Kennels at Dog Sled Town
One of the young hotel staff drove me to Julia's kennels where we found her selecting dogs for our sled ride. There was much excitement with a commotion of barking dogs, each concerned they might miss out on the sled ride. Julia talked about taking eight dogs as they were badly in need of exercise, but in the end thankfully, she settled for seven.
From my disastrous events dogsledding in Magadan Russia, I knew how much power the dogs had, and was pleased she opted for at least one less. There was apparently another group wanting to sled after me. At least the dogs should be quieter for them after an early sledding journey, I thought ruefully. Here is a video of Julia and her dogs: https://youtu.be/cXxr59A6K18
It took quite a while for Julia to sort harnesses and disentangle the wildly excited dogs. In the end she called her friend to help out.
An affable young Dutch fellow, Martin (name not known) took everything in his stride, calmly sorting out an extraordinary tangle of dogs, harnesses and leads. Finally, the team was hooked up to the sled and with our seven-strong dog team, the three of us with Julia at the helm, headed flat out along a wide stretch toward the mountainous backcountry.
Our dogs were travelling at an extraordinary speed. I had no idea how Julia was controlling them with just voice commands and a long guiding whip. Well, I'm not sure we were in control... Thankfully, the snowmobiles and 4WD vehicles kept well out of our way. Apparently it is either by law or sheer good manners that everything - vehicles as well as people walking - must give way to dog teams. Mostly I think because they are very often out of control and totally unpredictable.
As soon as the dogs settled a little, Martin baled out leaving just the two of us. I noted that Julia continued to keep the brake on the sled, although until now it had had very little effect on these boisterous bundles of energy.
After a few, slightly more sedate kilometers, we came across a turnoff to the left. Julia wanted the dogs to go straight ahead but they had other ideas, taking off down the side road. And yet another terrible tangle of dogs going everywhere.
Telling me to stay aboard the sled, Julia disembarked and somehow managed to turn the dogs and our sled around. But when she left the dogs and tried to leap back into the sled, she missed her footing, And missed the sled.... And there I was, a lone passenger of a seven-crazed-dog machine, totally out of control and heading flat out back to the kennels....
It was a frightening situation to be travelling at such a speed and so totally out of control. Unlike my experience with horses, there are no reins and of course my English voice commands were lost on my manic team. I even tried using my limited Russian but not surprisingly, it had no effect whatsoever. Yelling "help!" didn't do me much good either. Snowmobiles, snowcats and 4WD vehicles were skidding everywhere trying to avoid my delinquent dog team. And at times we were even passing some vehicles...
To my despair, several of the drivers waved to me, obviously thinking this older woman on Julia's nice new sled was indeed Julia!
It was a long two kilometers or so. And a long time to contemplate my fate. In hindsight, I was astonishingly calm, telling myself the dogs would just be heading home to their kennels. But that was still a long way off and far from certainty. My contingency plan was to bale out of the sled. Surely, in my spacesuit I could protect myself if I rolled - like a motorbike rider. The problem was with the speed at which the dogs were still traveling, even with the brake engaged. Fast enough to take my breath away. And the packed ice was hard as a road surface.
And anyway, even if they did turn to their kennel area, how would I survive such a sharp corner? How would the dogs survive such an abrupt halt? And what about Julia's new sled?
As hoped, the dogs did turn into Julia's kennels. And as predicted, they made such a sharp turn that the sled overturned into a bank on the corner of the road. Lying in the rutted hole, I wasn't hurt but I was pretty shaken by the experience. The good news was that we weren't in the mountain country where I would have most certainly come to grief.
Miraculously Martin was there almost immediately. I guessed Julia must have rung him.
"Just hop back in the sled and I'll sort the dogs. Everything is fine" said Martin soothingly. "You've got to be frigg'n joking" I muttered quietly to myself.
The dogs were once again in a terrible tangle. And after Martin spent so long freeing them, I felt I had no choice other than to reluctantly climb back into the sled.
Like my experience in Magadan when I accidentally hit a tree and was catapulted off into deep snow, thankfully neither the sled nor the dogs were injured. My pride was though. Julia finally arrived "Oh, I could hear you shouting for help" she laughed. Shamefully, dogsledding didn't seem to be my thing....
In all fairness, it was no one's fault. And certainly not Julia's. The same situation almost happened to our musher in Ilulissat and several of our friends have since given similar reports of their dogsledding trips. Dogs like all animals, are unpredictable by nature and I guess, like riding horses, they are not as safe as you would think. Only a lot smaller.
To my disappointment we set off again, this time with no unwanted events. The dogs were probably a bit tired by then. But I'm sure they were telling tourist jokes at my expense....
Our second trip was very pleasant; the backcountry being especially beautiful at dog height with snow spraying all round us.
We arrived back at Julia's kennels to find a group of French tourists with a small child waiting for their dog sled ride. Understandably they were besotted by the puppies and told me they were so looking forward to their dog sled ride. Of course, I kept quiet about my ordeal.
Somehow the glitter of the lovely dogs and even the gorgeous puppies had evaporated. And as I have mentioned, no cat in their right mind would consider pulling a sled. I'll stick to the felines, I decided. Pleasant as it was, I decided that after my morning's events that this time was "The Day I Gave Up Dog Sledding".
AN AFTERNOON AT SISIMIUT HOSPITAL
OR Alan's Demise....
I returned to our hotel early in the afternoon. Now buoyant from surviving my dogsledding adventures, I couldn't wait to tell Alan all about it.
Far from being the slightest bit interested, a deathly white Alan was lying groaning and almost comatose on the bed. With an obvious soaring fever, he was wet through with perspiration and virtually unconscious. Shaking violently, he was unable to stand, let alone walk.
I flew downstairs to the reception and with the help of one of the staff, called an ambulance to take him to the nearby hospital. "Just wait for us at the hotel entrance" the ambulance person told me. "But he can't stand, let alone walk" I gasped. The rest of our conversation is a blur but at last they agreed to meet us at our room.
Back in the hotel room, I don't think my very sick friend fully comprehended the situation. I madly took photos of his medications before realising I should give him a COVID test. He was thankfully negative, the test results giving me just enough time to collect his overcoat, hat, gloves and his bag before the ambulance staff arrived. Then I had to grab all my gear - boots, cleats, bags, coats - the lot. Yes, the perils of an Arctic winter. Everything seems to take so much longer to organise....
The ambulance team wheelchaired Alan to the ambulance going through the back entrance near our igloo tunnel to the restaurant. Luckily the two friendly Inuit guys were very strong as they had to lift Alan in his wheelchair from ground level into the ambulance. Why it had no ramp was beyond me.... I must have gone with Alan in the ambulance, but I really don't remember a thing about the trip. After all, it was his second hospitalisation in three weeks!
In the Hospital
The larger-than-expected yellow hospital was very impressive. And it was conveniently located next to a cemetery.... But to our shock, we were informed that no doctors worked there, only a senior nurse and some junior nursing staff.
Fortunately, the nurse saw Alan immediately. Performing some instant blood tests and several heart checks, to our relief she confirmed that Alan's sugar levels were normal as was his heart function. She also confirmed that he was severely dehydrated but to our disappointment, didn't consider his condition bad enough to put him on a saline drip. His blood pressure however was soaring at whopping 200/100, although as we waited it did settle a lot. The good news of course, was that Alan wasn't going to die.
When we told the nurse about our travels she simply said "You two are mad. My advice is: go home now!". Looking at Alan she said "My diagnosis is that you are coming down with influenza, of which there is a lot around right now." It could have been much worse news but getting the flu was hardly a welcome prognosis....
Back at the Hotel
It was an awful shock to be confronted with trying to reschedule our trip back home. But we agreed we had no choice.
As we were flying out to Kangerlussuaq the next day, I suggested that we try to stay at the Sisimiut Hotel for four or five more days to give Alan time to hopefully recover a bit, and for us to re-schedule our trip back home.
There was however, no possibility of us staying longer at the hotel. They were fully booked out with the sporting events. Similarly, none of the other hotels had any suitable vacancies. Only the Søma Hotel had a vacancy - a single bedroom with no private toilet or bathroom facilities. An apartment was another option.
There was one, the Inisimmavik - but it was a two storey building with steep outside stairs. Covered with winter snow, they would be lethal for Alan with his vertigo issues. Furthermore, we would have to commit to renting it for a full week.
We then tried to reschedule our flights and accommodation. Everything was fully booked with no chance of changing. In a way, we were relieved. Just changing one of our many flights back before we left for home would have had a huge impact on the rest of our schedule and accommodation.
Our only option was to keep going according to plan.
Our Farewell Dinner
To his credit, Alan made it to dinner although I'm not sure how he managed to walk there.
The hotel had put on a special farewell dinner and our lovely waiter Martin was waiting ready for us with two double gins and tonic. Did he know something about our awful day?
To my surprise, Alan managed to eat some of his main course of reindeer, as well as the lemon flummery for dessert. The food was excellent and if I remember rightly, we downed another two gins before collapsing back in our room.
Alan may have been very sick but by the end of the day, I was emotionally brain dead....
2025-05-22