Friday 23^rd August

Our last day in Alaska gave picture perfect weather.  We were reluctant to leave Bear Cottage – it was by far our most comfortable digs. And picturesque in setting.  Many places in the Alaskan towns are buried back in the woods, just a single track with a line of letterboxes on the main road to indicate that there are dwellings back in there.  These cabins were an instance of that.  Quiet and peaceful, lots of birds, squirrels and voles running about quite cheekily.

We had lots of time – our flight out of Anchorage was to be after midnight.  

The Exit Glacier was worth the hike up to its “toe”.  It, like all the glaciers, is receding because of climate change.  The bears have apparently been active in the area.  The warning signs here were the most explicit we have seen: “If the bear starts to eat you, fight back”.  Ice collapsing from the glacier has also been more extreme than usual, and access right up to the ice was closed off – much to Bede’s frustration – he really wanted to get there and walk on it. 

Lunchtime entertainment – we were on the Seward seafront – was provided by a sea otter.  It lolled about on its back, its head and feet sticking up out of the water, and rolled,  and clapped its own efforts and poked its head up and generally performed.  This is how they spend their time. And then they have a nap.  And then they do it all again.  All day. 

The Alaska Sea Life Centre at Seward is spectacular.  Such a good facility.  The animals are all rescued because abandoned or otherwise in distress.  The two juvenile sea otters were abandoned as pups, and are only 5 months old now.  We watched them for about half an hour, fell in love with them. The 2,400lb seal was also lovable.  But I felt sorry for him when he dragged himself out of the water and pulled himself along the decking with his front flippers.  Over a ton!

The centre is set up so that from level 3 you can see the surface of the water and the animals as they go up on rocks etc.  And then on level 2 you can see the underwater view.  So we really saw that bird, the murre,  that swims underwater by flapping its wings in the same way it does to fly in the sky.  When it comes back to the surface, it preens and flaps about and shakes and bows and carries on as if to say, “Oh what a clever bird am I”.  And it is. 

Driving back to Anchorage, we were treated to this sky.

And at a roadside railway museum, this cylindrical snow plough on the front of a train engine.  It spat the snow and debris out the top/side to a distance of 300ft.  

And letterboxes, for those who have planted themselves out in the backwoods where no self-respecting postman can be expected to venture.