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Tony Dunne obviously made an effort to get an early start since he was the first passenger to step off the first cruise ship docking in Longyearbyen this summer, but he didn’t sound like someone scurrying to savor the sights and sounds of Svalbard.
“To be honest I have no idea why we’re here,” the resident of Kitzbühel, Austria, said as he walked past the security gate to where a half dozen buses, a lone trumpet player and a couple of people advertising day trips to Barentsburg awaited under drizzly skies at about 8:30 a.m. Wednesday. “It’s something to cross off the list.”
About Post Author
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.