









But today, we are successful. And cold. And soon we'll be drunk. Which is good, because A's father told her way back when that you don't realize you are freezing to death when drunk.







Will the long underpants with corduroy trousers be sufficient to keep our butts from freezing off? Will we be able to find a hotel, or will we have to sleep on the street in temperatures of -30 degrees centigrade? Will the cold that we have been struggling with for three weeks turn into a life threatening disease?
Stay tuned to find out.


Frans wants to have a shirt like this, too, so he can wear that instead of his "hideous sweater".





