AVALANCHE UPDATE: Governor makes entering restricted zones a criminal offense, releases drone video of slide area as workers begin sealing off damaged homes
By Mark Sabbatini on December 23, 2015
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Entering areas closed due to avalanche risk is now a criminal offense, The Governor of Svalbard announced Wednesday after a ski tourist was spotted traversing the area where Saturday’s snowslide occurred.
“There was a skier that did not get what has happened and who was going up to Sukkertoppen,” Police Chief Lt. Arve Johnsen told Svalbardposten. “To underline the seriousness of that, we’ve decided to block it off according to the Police Act.”
Posters will be hung in hotels, and receptionists will be required to inform guests about the avalanche and traffic ban.
A map from The Governor of Svalbard shows areas of Longyearbyen still off limits due to avalanche risk (click image to download larger map).
The decision comes after the governor’s office issued reminders earlier during the day residents of homes hit by the avalanche are prohibited from entering them. Workers began sealing the homes off from the weather Wednesday, but a statement by the governor’s office notes the work will continue through the Christmas season, and that removal of furniture and other items will not be permitted until it is completed.
I'm a professional transient living on a tiny Norwegian island next door to the North Pole, where once a week (or thereabouts) I pollute our extreme and pristine environment with paper fishwrappers decorated with seemingly random letters that would cause a thousand monkeys with a thousand typewriters to die of humiliation.
Such is the wisdom one acquires after more than 25 years in the world's second-least-respected occupation, much of it roaming the seven continents in search of jazz, unrecognizable street food and escorts I f****d with by insisting they give me the platonic tours of their cities promised in their ads.
But it turns out this tiny group of islands known as Svalbard is my True Love and, generous contributions from you willing, I'll keep littering until they dig my body out when my climate-change-deformed apartment collapses or they exile my penniless ass because I'm not even worthy of washing your dirty dishes.
I'm a professional transient living on a tiny Norwegian island next door to the North Pole, where once a week (or thereabouts) I pollute our extreme and pristine environment with paper fishwrappers decorated with seemingly random letters that would cause a thousand monkeys with a thousand typewriters to die of humiliation.
Such is the wisdom one acquires after more than 25 years in the world's second-least-respected occupation, much of it roaming the seven continents in search of jazz, unrecognizable street food and escorts I f****d with by insisting they give me the platonic tours of their cities promised in their ads.
But it turns out this tiny group of islands known as Svalbard is my True Love and, generous contributions from you willing, I'll keep littering until they dig my body out when my climate-change-deformed apartment collapses or they exile my penniless ass because I'm not even worthy of washing your dirty dishes.
Icepeople is again facing an immediate existential crisis due (of course) to hardships largely inflected by the pandemic. In short, 1) the website needs $22 U.S. (190 NOK) to stay online for another month and 2) the editor needs any and all help possible to avoid homelessness in the middle of polar winter (not that it’s legal here any other time of the year).
So if you appreciate Icepeople for its unique stories about Svalbard and/or critical news during these critical times, as well as its features about the more colorful aspects of life here (today’s feature about the upcoming Polarjazz festival is for the event that first drew our editor’s attention to Svalbard way back in 2008) please do whatever you can during what are admittedly incredibly harsh times for many.