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Posts tagged as “stupid tourists tricks”

‘ILLEGAL/RECKLESS DRIVING NOT COVERED BY DAMAGE WAIVER’: Tourists take rental truck beyond road in Bjørndalen, abandon it when it becomes stuck; now also face criminal fines

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Read Time:1 Minute, 23 Second

Photo by Thomas Nilsen

Instant classic for the “don’t this if you’re a tourist in Svalbard” list: Visitors who drove a rental truck beyond the road onto the soggy tundra in Bjørndalen to “see wild animals in their proper element” got hopelessly stuck in mud and abandoned the vehicle without reporting it. So in addition to some hefty extra rental penalties they’re now facing criminal charges (and fines) for illegal driving that also violates environmental protection laws.

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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Random bits of weirdness for the week of May 26, 2015

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Read Time:2 Minute, 17 Second

If it’s a choice between an invasion by these two guys or the two gay-obssessed Russian leaders in the next item, we’d have to think abut it. OK, not really, since these particular Americans appear to be potty trained.

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.
Happy
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