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Posts published in “Day: January 20, 2016

Coal’s future is past: Opening of Svea to tourists seen as sign of Svalbard’s rapidly expanding polar night activities

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Read Time:2 Minute, 21 Second

Visiting a 100-year-old patient on his deathbed sounds like a tough sell in a tourist brochure, but it seems there’s a burgeoning market in Svalbard for the cold-hearted.

Svea will begin the first-ever guided tours for recreational visitors Feb. 1, only a month or two before mining is scheduled to stop for at least three years – and possibly permanently – due to a collapse in coal prices.

About Post Author

Mark Sabbatini

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.
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‘It’s just torn earth:’ 15 bags of mail, two damaged ‘black boxes’ found at site where mail flight crashed

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Read Time:2 Minute, 19 Second

The cause of a postal flight crash near Tromsø remains unknown more than 10 days after it occurred, as both “black boxes” were heavily damaged during the impact that also destroyed nearly all the cargo and presumably killed both pilots, investigators said Tuesday.

About Post Author

Mark Sabbatini

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.
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Fishy fate: Change in law, rise in popular seafood species means industry may give Svalbard life after coal

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Read Time:3 Minute, 40 Second

For the first time since the coal mining crisis hit Longyearbyen with full force more than a year ago, it’s a good thing a lot of folks are in a crabby mood.

They’re also raising a stink about fish – again in a good way – as Norway’s Marine Resources Act was amended earlier this month to give Svalbard the same commercial fishing and processing regulations as the mainland. While that’s unlikely to replace all of the hundreds of lost coal-related jobs, it’s potentially a key part of the city’s post-mining future.

About Post Author

Mark Sabbatini

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.
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