Svalbard part three, Arctic Beach Party

Tap tap tap...this thing on? Strangest thing about my blog life. The posts I think will get lots of comments get none, but then I get tons of comments on ones I don't expect. Hmm, strange. Am I boring you already? Oh well, at least I am entertained.

Ok, you non-commenting people, you. I've talked about Longyearbyen and the amazing scenery I've seen, so now lets get down to pictures of the best party I think I will ever attend. An Arctic Beach Party! Yes, after the incredibly steep hike up Storvolla (and a couple hours rest) our fearless (and very manly) leader decreed that we were about to have a party, on the beach. With bonfire and reindeer skins and Arctic nature and quite possibly panic from attacking polar bears. Oh, and lots and lots of liquor.

Downside? No bikinis necessary, but regatta suits mandatory. Have you ever worn a regatta suit? Ok, well think of it this way. It's a big puffy jumpsuit that is water repellent and floaty and is supposed to keep you alive in cold water for like, 2 minutes, but isn't actually water PROOF. So you might float ok, but you'll be wet and cold and will DIE anyways if they don't get to you within 3.5 minutes or whatever the time is you have in freezing cold water. It's big and cumbersome and stops you from being able to tie your shoes, or, in my unfortunate case, pee. Or move. We put them on OVER our wool undies, pants, sweaters and jackets. Ever seen the movie "A Christmas Story"? And the part where the kid gets so dressed up for winter by his mom that he can't put his arms down? That was me. I could NOT put my arms down. I was laughing my ass off and running around saying, "Mom! Mom! I can't put my arms down!", but that is apparently an American cultural thing because nobody laughed as hard as me. I got a giggle out of it every time I put one of those things one, which was about twice a day.

OK, so Arctic beach party in which we are all in matching neon green regatta suits (so much for my sexy bod) and woolly hats. Sorry boys, no Barbarella fur bikinis. Those things itch anyhow.

And yet. yet. We got DEErunk and had a fabulous time and finally me and a few other girls ended up doffing the damned regatta suits because, seriously, you CANNOT pee while wearing them, no matter HOW hard you try to squat away from it (you then end up with the horrid possibility of pissing in the hood, ew). About 7 of us had the funniest pee experience EVER when we all had to go for a pee, behind an Arctic shed nearby, and one of the brave brave guards had to escort us, because of polar bears, and stand guard with the gun while we exposed our lily white asses to the frigid air of the North. We were all laughing SO hard we had to pee even more. 7 women, bare assed, trying to get OUT of the damn suits, laughing and hollering and giggling and hooting and falling over, and this one bemused guy with a gun steadfastly keeping his back turned so the our modesty was intact. Seriously, that was awesome female bonding. I haven't laughed that hard in ages.

View of some of the party participants. Most parties would consider everyone showing up in the same outfit a disaster, but not here. We had a nice bbq of steaks and lots and lots of liquor.

The shed behind which we peed. And peed. And laughed. Even from this distance the guys could hear us all cackling and screaming as we negotiated out of our suits.

Around the fire. My clothes still smell of smoke. I rather like it and hope it lasts.

David the bone collector. He collected all the dead things he could and brought them back to Oslo with him. Here he's obviously horny. He's British. We just shrug it off and say he's British.

The boat staff hard at work. Actually the drunk Finnish chef had already called it a night by then. In this picture are the chief engineer, the first mate, an able seaman (woman) and Per, the one who gamely kept his back to us as we peed.

The woman on the ground is photographing (the suits allow you to fling yourself on the ground with abandon, you are so well padded) and a boy peeing. See how much simpler it was for HIM to pee?

Arctic bar. Seriously. I mean, SERIOUSLY. This does not include the thousands of beers that were also present.

The fire, the boat, the water and reindeer skins. This photo taken around 2am. I partied until about 3:30, then called it a night. Others made it to 4. Rumor has it that at 5am a polar bear sauntered past our party spot.

We had to be up at 7 the next morning. I think I was still drunk.