Tuesday 13 September 2022--The sunny weather is back, somewhat unexpectedly. The forecast for the next week hasn't looked good, but it's fluctuated a lot over the past couple of days. I suppose it's easy around here to forecast a long sunny period, or a whole summer full of rain; it's when the weather is unsettled that the forecasters are stumped.

I take a stroll around town after breakfast to see what's what. I can't say it's the most charming place--there are some touristy things around, but for the most part it's the service and transportation hub for the region. It strikes me as a place to pass through, despite several hotels and restaurants. I'm reminded somehow of Brodick, on the Isle of Arran, although no one would ever mistake one for the other. If I hadn't had to cut a night from Trondheim, I'd have stayed here just a night, and been on my way. Maybe I'm not being fair; obviously, a lot of people base their Lofoten visits here. I suppose it would give a much better impression on a lively summer day. It's kind of quiet in mid-September. I was lucky last night to get a pizza and a beer before closing at Fellini.

The one thing I have in mind to do is scout the grocery stores to see what I might stock up on for the week ahead. There are two fair-sized supermarkets, a Kiwi and an Extra, in the modern and thoroughly charmless commercial blocks behind the town center. The Extra is in a shopping mall that also houses an outlet of Vinmonopolet. Having gotten an idea of how I will approach my shopping tomorrow, I pick up a bottle of aquavit, Smaladram, under the Gilde label. Back at the room, I enjoy a dram and the sunshine on my little balcony.

Later, I go in search of a decent pub in which to have a pint. The most likely suspect is Styrhuset, behind the Thon Hotel. It's too dark and too loud--I'm blasted by "The Final Countdown", by the Swedish band Europe (who, come to think of it, sound a bit like Asia, only worse). Not my kind of place. The Thon has a very chic-looking bar off its lobby, also not my kind of place. I go off to find dinner, and wander into a restaurant called Bacalao, which looked a bit upscale to me from the outside, but turns out to be comfortably informal, with a friendly-looking bar at the back. Dinner is not cheap, but it would be a surprise if it were, wouldn't it? I like the place, and after a couple of beers, Svolvær seems not so bad after all. It always helps to know where to hang out.