<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34623260</id><updated>2011-09-19T09:46:27.273-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Millie</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milfridtonheim.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34623260/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milfridtonheim.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12835328455581337191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>16</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34623260.post-3128658552823565970</id><published>2007-08-15T01:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-15T01:16:53.673-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ankadinandriana</title><content type='html'>Ellen, Arne Morten og Annie tok meg med paa en veldig koselig soendags picnic til et omraade utenfor Tana som heter Ankadinandriana. Landskapet og fargene er kjempevakre og eg koste meg virkelig med kameraet:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;English:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Ellen, Arne Morten and Annie took me on a wonderful sunday-picnic to an area outside of Tana that's called Andadinandriana. The landscape and the colors are beautiful and I enjoyed myself with the camera:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RsK03Go_7jI/AAAAAAAAAHM/j-4t97xQiq8/s1600-h/F1000033.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RsK03Go_7jI/AAAAAAAAAHM/j-4t97xQiq8/s200/F1000033.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098836586905202226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RsK03mo_7kI/AAAAAAAAAHU/gwhIaeKDVMs/s1600-h/F1000032.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RsK03mo_7kI/AAAAAAAAAHU/gwhIaeKDVMs/s200/F1000032.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098836595495136834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RsK03mo_7lI/AAAAAAAAAHc/gB5ojYnBAiM/s1600-h/F1000034.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RsK03mo_7lI/AAAAAAAAAHc/gB5ojYnBAiM/s200/F1000034.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098836595495136850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RsK032o_7mI/AAAAAAAAAHk/nw-pnDDJDA0/s1600-h/F1000028.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RsK032o_7mI/AAAAAAAAAHk/nw-pnDDJDA0/s200/F1000028.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098836599790104162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RsK032o_7nI/AAAAAAAAAHs/aLAxyklMC-k/s1600-h/F1000030.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RsK032o_7nI/AAAAAAAAAHs/aLAxyklMC-k/s200/F1000030.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098836599790104178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34623260-3128658552823565970?l=milfridtonheim.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milfridtonheim.blogspot.com/feeds/3128658552823565970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34623260&amp;postID=3128658552823565970' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34623260/posts/default/3128658552823565970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34623260/posts/default/3128658552823565970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milfridtonheim.blogspot.com/2007/08/ankadinandriana.html' title='Ankadinandriana'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12835328455581337191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RsK03Go_7jI/AAAAAAAAAHM/j-4t97xQiq8/s72-c/F1000033.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34623260.post-726149743051385131</id><published>2007-08-13T04:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-13T05:24:04.915-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Isalo</title><content type='html'>Cirka halvveis mellom Toliara og Fianarantsoa (RN 7) finner man en av Madagaskars mest kjente nasjonalparker, nemlig Isalo. Nasjonalparken består av vakre og merkelige juv og fjellformasjoner, med elver som lirker seg ned i fjellkløftene og plutselig vider seg ut til en lagune. Og ikke nok med det, nydelig plassert i disse naturskjønne omgivelse ligger Le Jardin du Roi – et hotell av særegen klasse! Faktisk er det så fantastisk at jentene (Linda, Susanne, Janna og meg selv) aldri kom seg ut på tur, men brukte hvert minutt av oppholdet til å nyte hotellets luksus! Men til vårt forsvar var vi der kun en stakkars natt…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;English:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Approximately halfway between Toliara and Fianarantsoa (RN 7) you’ll find on of Madagascar’s most famous national parks; Isalo. The park consists of beautiful and strange canyons, with rivers that wriggle down through the canyons and suddenly widen into a lagoon. And as if this is not enough, beautifully place in these picturesque settings is Le Jardin du Roi – a most outstanding hotel! In fact it is so extraordinary that the girls (Linda, Susanne, Janna and myself) never went on the planned hike, but used every single minute of the stay by enjoying the luxury of the hotel! In our defense; we stayed only one single night…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098158269835243042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RsBL72o_7iI/AAAAAAAAAHE/N2g6CFwJcwc/s200/---_0288.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RsBH3Wo_7aI/AAAAAAAAAGE/GwIO-6kzfpw/s1600-h/IMG_2256.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098153794479320482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RsBH3Wo_7aI/AAAAAAAAAGE/GwIO-6kzfpw/s200/IMG_2256.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RsBH3Wo_7bI/AAAAAAAAAGM/xaX26jcYPU0/s1600-h/Isalo+pool+029.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098153794479320498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RsBH3Wo_7bI/AAAAAAAAAGM/xaX26jcYPU0/s200/Isalo+pool+029.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Det meste av hotellet er bygget i stein og bygningene ser ut som de hører til der blant fjellformasjonene. Svømmebassenget må være det flotteste på hele øyen. Hver kveld tennes det store oljelamper langs bassengkantene, samtidig som rødlige kveldsolen speiler seg i de små fjelltoppene like ved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;English:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of the hotel is built in stone and the buildings look like they belong there in between the stone-formations. The pool must be the most splendid one on the island. Every night big oil-lamps are lit alongside the pool rim, at the same time as the evening sun reflects itself on the small mountain peaks close by. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RsBH32o_7cI/AAAAAAAAAGU/D8bqfyhv6qA/s1600-h/Isalo+pool+041.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098153803069255106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RsBH32o_7cI/AAAAAAAAAGU/D8bqfyhv6qA/s200/Isalo+pool+041.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RsBH32o_7dI/AAAAAAAAAGc/e56_0UwdLco/s1600-h/---_0279.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098153803069255122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RsBH32o_7dI/AAAAAAAAAGc/e56_0UwdLco/s200/---_0279.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Heldigvis kom Mr. Haugan på besøk litt senere og eg fikk meg enda en tur til Isalo. Denne gangen var det lagt inn flere overnattinger slik at man i tillegg til å nyte Kongens Hage kunne tillate seg en fjellvandring. Turen gikk til Piscine Naturelle og Cascade des Nymphes, og i løpet av den 10 km lange turen såg vi både kameleon og lemurer!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;English:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luckily, some time later Mr. Haugan came to visit and I got myself another trip to Isalo. This time several sleepovers were included in order to, in addition to enjoying the Kings Garden, could allow oneself a hike. The hike to Piscine Naturelle and the Cascade des Nymphes was chosen, and during the 10 km long walk we saw both chameleon and lemurs!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RsBH32o_7eI/AAAAAAAAAGk/wmC7iUkQbv4/s1600-h/---_0270.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098153803069255138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RsBH32o_7eI/AAAAAAAAAGk/wmC7iUkQbv4/s200/---_0270.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098156577618128370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RsBKZWo_7fI/AAAAAAAAAGs/X0LK4ZroKO8/s200/---_0236.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098156581913095698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RsBKZmo_7hI/AAAAAAAAAG8/bzol1lgaSms/s200/---_0268.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098156581913095682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RsBKZmo_7gI/AAAAAAAAAG0/UbYb5U_XUas/s200/---_0231.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34623260-726149743051385131?l=milfridtonheim.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milfridtonheim.blogspot.com/feeds/726149743051385131/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34623260&amp;postID=726149743051385131' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34623260/posts/default/726149743051385131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34623260/posts/default/726149743051385131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milfridtonheim.blogspot.com/2007/08/isalo.html' title='Isalo'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12835328455581337191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RsBL72o_7iI/AAAAAAAAAHE/N2g6CFwJcwc/s72-c/---_0288.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34623260.post-7610598440680755674</id><published>2007-08-08T05:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-09T06:40:46.523-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Anakao and Nosy Ve</title><content type='html'>Litt sør for Toliara ligger Anakao, en fiskerlandsby med avslappet stemning og vakre strender. Sjøveien er beste måte å komme seg dit på, selv om båtturen kan bli en våt opplevelse med knallhard bølgehopping og et mulig motorstopp! Etter å ha kjøpt billetter får man seg en overraskende tur med okse og kjerre som frakter passasjerer og bagasje siden stranden er langgrunn og båten langt der ute. Ingenting å si på servicen!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;English:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A little south of Toliara is Anakao, a fishing village with a relaxed atmosphere and beautiful beaches. The best transfer is by boat, even though the boat trip might become a wet experience with rough wave-jumping and possibility of engine failure! After the tickets are purchased you’ll get a surprising trip with ox and wagon transporting passengers and luggage as the beach is shallow and the boat is far out there. Can’t complain on the service!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RrsU4Wo_7TI/AAAAAAAAAFM/LbrsTB2wKgU/s1600-h/IMG_0265.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RrsU4Wo_7TI/AAAAAAAAAFM/LbrsTB2wKgU/s200/IMG_0265.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5096690361682619698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;Har besøkt Anakao to ganger; en gang i februar med&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt; Linda og Susanne, og en gang i mars med Tommy. Bodde begge gangene på Anakao Club Resort – et altfor dyrt overnattingsalternativ, men med de vakreste bungalowene du kan tenke deg! Det bare å stålsette seg, skru på sjarmen og prute i vei! Og etter en godt gjennomført jobb venter fargerike velkomstdrinker i baren.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;English:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;I have visited Anakao twice; once in February together with Linda and Susanne, and once in March together with Tommy. Both times we stayed at Anakao Club Resort – a way too expensive sleeping alternative, but with the most beautiful bungalows you can imagine! Get focused, turn on the charm and bargain! And after a job well-done, colorful welcome-drinks await you in the bar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RrsVvGo_7ZI/AAAAAAAAAF8/33agYMU5eMU/s1600-h/Anakao+035.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RrsVvGo_7ZI/AAAAAAAAAF8/33agYMU5eMU/s200/Anakao+035.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5096691302280457618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RrsU4mo_7UI/AAAAAAAAAFU/fm3zTZorTE0/s1600-h/IMG_0290.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RrsU4mo_7UI/AAAAAAAAAFU/fm3zTZorTE0/s200/IMG_0290.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5096690365977587010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span lang="NO-BOK"&gt;Ikke langt fra strendene i Anakao ligger Nosy Ve, som direkte oversatt betyr liten øy. En billig og bedagelig tur med en Pirogue tar deg ut til Nosy Ve og den lille øyen er vel verdt et besøk; hvit sand og turkist vann som får de fargerike drinkene i baren til å miste sin glans! Strendene inne ved Anakao Club Resort er bra de også, men kan ikke måle seg med Nose Ve.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;Not far from the beaches of Anakao you’ll find Nose Ve, which translated means small island. A cheap trip with a Pirogue at a leisurely pace takes you to Nose Ve and the small island is worth a visit; white sand and turquoise water that make the colorful drinks in the bar lose their splendor! The beaches by the Anakao Club Resort are also good, but cannot hold a candle to the ones in Nosy Ve. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="NO-BOK"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RrsVu2o_7YI/AAAAAAAAAF0/luwr5LtdJPc/s1600-h/19A_0311.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RrsVu2o_7YI/AAAAAAAAAF0/luwr5LtdJPc/s200/19A_0311.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5096691297985490306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RrsVumo_7VI/AAAAAAAAAFc/FMExKemzjLI/s1600-h/_5A_0297.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RrsVumo_7VI/AAAAAAAAAFc/FMExKemzjLI/s200/_5A_0297.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5096691293690522962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RrsVu2o_7XI/AAAAAAAAAFs/VaPpDUhJlbE/s1600-h/16A_0308.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RrsVu2o_7XI/AAAAAAAAAFs/VaPpDUhJlbE/s200/16A_0308.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5096691297985490290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RrsVu2o_7WI/AAAAAAAAAFk/aaZ8DgTPCGU/s1600-h/14A_0306.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RrsVu2o_7WI/AAAAAAAAAFk/aaZ8DgTPCGU/s200/14A_0306.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5096691297985490274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span lang="NO-BOK"&gt;Anbefaler en tur til Anakao om du noen gang tar en tur til Madagaskar.&lt;/span&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Anakao is a recommendable destination if you ever take a trip to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:country-region&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Madagascar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34623260-7610598440680755674?l=milfridtonheim.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milfridtonheim.blogspot.com/feeds/7610598440680755674/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34623260&amp;postID=7610598440680755674' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34623260/posts/default/7610598440680755674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34623260/posts/default/7610598440680755674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milfridtonheim.blogspot.com/2007/08/anakao-and-nosy-ve.html' title='Anakao and Nosy Ve'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12835328455581337191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RrsU4Wo_7TI/AAAAAAAAAFM/LbrsTB2wKgU/s72-c/IMG_0265.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34623260.post-8555388796110547612</id><published>2007-08-04T00:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-04T02:08:15.020-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Jean Claude</title><content type='html'>22. juli 07: Jean Claude skutt og drept /22 July 07: Jean Claude shot and killed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Norsk:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jean Claude, min gode venn, taxi-sjåfør og trofaste hjelper. Han med det store smilet og den smittende latteren. Han med den blå Bosch boblevesten og sjåførlua, den runde magen og de litt for korte buksene. Han som fikset alt fra aggregat til dårlig humør. Min informasjonskilde og min beskytter. Hvordan skal eg klare meg her uten deg?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;English:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jean Claude, my good friend, taxi-chauffeur and faithful helper. He with the huge smile and the catchy laughter. He with the blue, quilted Bosch vest and the taxi-cap, the big belly and the a-little-too-short pants. He who fixed everything from generators to bad moods. My source of information and my protector. How will I make it here without you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094756428103544066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RrQ1-mo_7QI/AAAAAAAAAE0/THEl6vsrpLQ/s200/Jean+Claude.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RrQ5KWo_7RI/AAAAAAAAAE8/z-v2wlk5BSg/s1600-h/IMG_2252.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094759928501890322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RrQ5KWo_7RI/AAAAAAAAAE8/z-v2wlk5BSg/s200/IMG_2252.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Photo: Susanne Nordgarden&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094759928501890338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RrQ5KWo_7SI/AAAAAAAAAFE/Ivwc2lGJ_K0/s200/_2A_0244.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Photo: Tommy Haugan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hide me now&lt;br /&gt;Under your wings&lt;br /&gt;Cover me&lt;br /&gt;Within Your mighty hand&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the oceans rise&lt;br /&gt;And thunders roar&lt;br /&gt;I will soar with You&lt;br /&gt;Above the storm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Father, you are King&lt;br /&gt;Over the flood&lt;br /&gt;I will be still and know&lt;br /&gt;You are God&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Find rest my soul&lt;br /&gt;In Christ alone&lt;br /&gt;Know His power&lt;br /&gt;In quietness and trust&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34623260-8555388796110547612?l=milfridtonheim.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milfridtonheim.blogspot.com/feeds/8555388796110547612/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34623260&amp;postID=8555388796110547612' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34623260/posts/default/8555388796110547612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34623260/posts/default/8555388796110547612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milfridtonheim.blogspot.com/2007/08/jean-claude.html' title='Jean Claude'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12835328455581337191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RrQ1-mo_7QI/AAAAAAAAAE0/THEl6vsrpLQ/s72-c/Jean+Claude.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34623260.post-2536213244820150783</id><published>2007-07-06T01:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-06T01:47:57.524-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Linda</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="NO-BOK"&gt;Mine kjære venn, kollega og samboer har dessverre forlatt meg til fordel for en annen… Savnet er ulidelig stort! Ikke like effektive frustrasjonsutløp (noe det trengs en hel del av!), langt fra like god smak på iskaffen når den drikkes aleine (gasserne syns den er ”raty”), ikke like morro å jakte på kakerlakker uten baktroppen, og ingen som hjelper meg med fransken! Det eneste positive er at det kan se ut til at musene syns det er mindre attraktivt å besøke leiligheten etter at Linda dro! De er rett og slett forsvunnet…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;My dear friend, colleague and flatmate has unfortunately abandoned me in favor of someone else… The loss is immense! Not as efficient ventilation of frustrated feelings (which is needed quite often!), not as good a taste on the ice-coffee when it’s consumed alone (the Malagasy thinks it is “raty”), not as fun to hunt cockroaches without the rear party, and no one to help me with the French language! The only positive thing is that the mice seem to find it less attractive to visit the apartment after Linda left!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/Ro4AVLrL5jI/AAAAAAAAAEU/0aPkMlsvl88/s1600-h/IMG_0170.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/Ro4AVLrL5jI/AAAAAAAAAEU/0aPkMlsvl88/s200/IMG_0170.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5084001393259046450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/Ro4AVbrL5kI/AAAAAAAAAEc/Wy8Gf4s2i5Y/s1600-h/IMG_1659.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/Ro4AVbrL5kI/AAAAAAAAAEc/Wy8Gf4s2i5Y/s200/IMG_1659.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5084001397554013762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/Ro4AVbrL5lI/AAAAAAAAAEk/JErwb3Qoc4g/s1600-h/F1000009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/Ro4AVbrL5lI/AAAAAAAAAEk/JErwb3Qoc4g/s200/F1000009.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5084001397554013778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/Ro4AVrrL5mI/AAAAAAAAAEs/GTLWJad5GjY/s1600-h/F1000015.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/Ro4AVrrL5mI/AAAAAAAAAEs/GTLWJad5GjY/s200/F1000015.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5084001401848981090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;It’s not at all the same without you, Linda!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34623260-2536213244820150783?l=milfridtonheim.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milfridtonheim.blogspot.com/feeds/2536213244820150783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34623260&amp;postID=2536213244820150783' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34623260/posts/default/2536213244820150783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34623260/posts/default/2536213244820150783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milfridtonheim.blogspot.com/2007/07/linda.html' title='Linda'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12835328455581337191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/Ro4AVLrL5jI/AAAAAAAAAEU/0aPkMlsvl88/s72-c/IMG_0170.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34623260.post-1729842590469102154</id><published>2007-07-02T00:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-02T01:09:10.020-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My favorite boys!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Norsk / English&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;Eg har som vanlig funnet meg en guttegjeng å leke med. De gassiske guttene er uten tvil av høy klasse; barske, sjarmerende, pene, sportye, musikalske, snille, men samtidig litt rampete! Eg har full forståelse for om du ikke tror denne kombinasjonen eksisterer, men ta i alle fall en titt på bildene under!   /  I have like always found myself a bunch of guys to play with. The Malagasy boys are undoubtedly of high quality; cool, charming, handsome, sporty, musical, kind, but at the same time a little naughty! I completely understand if you don’t believe this combination exists, but have a least a look at the photos below! &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RoisPrrL5fI/AAAAAAAAAD0/HDbzPOVHUb0/s1600-h/IMG_0100.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RoisPrrL5fI/AAAAAAAAAD0/HDbzPOVHUb0/s200/IMG_0100.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5082501564909479410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RoisP7rL5gI/AAAAAAAAAD8/ItujODYE-Ow/s1600-h/IMG_0048.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RoisP7rL5gI/AAAAAAAAAD8/ItujODYE-Ow/s200/IMG_0048.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5082501569204446722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RoisP7rL5hI/AAAAAAAAAEE/EM9XMODi5e8/s1600-h/F1010009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RoisP7rL5hI/AAAAAAAAAEE/EM9XMODi5e8/s200/F1010009.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5082501569204446738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RoisP7rL5iI/AAAAAAAAAEM/AhU0LUupMiM/s1600-h/IMG_0136.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RoisP7rL5iI/AAAAAAAAAEM/AhU0LUupMiM/s200/IMG_0136.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5082501569204446754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34623260-1729842590469102154?l=milfridtonheim.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milfridtonheim.blogspot.com/feeds/1729842590469102154/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34623260&amp;postID=1729842590469102154' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34623260/posts/default/1729842590469102154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34623260/posts/default/1729842590469102154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milfridtonheim.blogspot.com/2007/07/my-favorite-boys.html' title='My favorite boys!'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12835328455581337191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RoisPrrL5fI/AAAAAAAAAD0/HDbzPOVHUb0/s72-c/IMG_0100.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34623260.post-3745855702047737667</id><published>2007-05-16T00:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-20T05:11:04.631-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Life Continues</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Norsk/English&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vår gekko-leieboer har uten tvil fått seg familie - og familiebegrepet har som kjent en utvidet betydning her i Afrika! Gradestokken klatrer fortsatt over 30 grader selv om gasserne føler behov for en boblejakke på kveldstid. Hanen galer fremdeles litt for tidlig hver morgen; hvem kan bidra med oppskrift på Coq au vin?! Vinen, vel den er kort og godt sur. Man skjønner man har nådd bunnen når man ender opp med å kjøpe rødvin tappet over på en Johnny Walker flaske! / Our lizard-tenant has undoubtedly gotten a family – and the family-concept is as known a quite extended one here in Africa! The thermometer still climbs above 30 even though the Malagasy prefer putting on a winter jacket in the evenings. The coq continues to crow too early every morning; who can contribute with a Coq au vin recipe?! The wine, well it is in short sour. One understands that one has reached the bottom when one ends up buying red wine on a Johnny Walker bottle!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/Rkq60BxyiGI/AAAAAAAAADo/Y2PDsxcdAwY/s1600-h/IMG_0022.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5065066133924776034" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/Rkq60BxyiGI/AAAAAAAAADo/Y2PDsxcdAwY/s200/IMG_0022.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Barna på tunet er blitt om mulig litt mer sjarmerende og høylytte. Det nye er at nå ropes det "Millie! Millie! Mahita film!" Fanklubben er nemlig et faktum etter visning av Istid. Filmutvalget er dessverre begrenset så anskaffelsen av tegne saker og fotball ble løsningen på underholdningsproblemet. Innen kun en uke hadde allerede to fotballer måtte bøte med livet i møte med Mr. Kaktus. I tillegg er det ganske spennende å prøve vannklosettet til disse vazahaene. Etter første forsøk ble det tydelig at det trengs en viss opplæring; det var skitne skomerker etter at jentene hadde stått på huk oppå toalettringen! / The children in the yard are if possible a little more charming and loud. The new thing is that now they cry: "Millie! Millie! Mahita film!" The fan club is a fact after showing them Ice Age. The film selection is limited and buying crayons and a football became the solution to the entertainment problem. Within only a week two balls had suffered death in the encounter with Mr. Cactus. In addition it is pretty exciting to try the vazaha’s water closet. After attempt number one it was obvious that some training was needed; dirty shoe marks because the girls had been squatting on top of the toilet seat!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/Rkq57hxyiEI/AAAAAAAAADY/-m-sgL8NJRw/s1600-h/IMG_0123.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5065065163262167106" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/Rkq57hxyiEI/AAAAAAAAADY/-m-sgL8NJRw/s200/IMG_0123.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Høyning av levestandarden var et faktum da varmtvannstanken var på plass i dusjen! Men det ble en kort nytelse; strømmen forsvant dagen etter. Ikke for en time eller to, men så langt har den vært borte i en måned. Av sånt blir det rabalder; streik og vold i gatene, stengte butikker, bevæpnede militære på hvert ett gatehjørne, og bortimot portforbud etter mørkets frembrudd. Utfordringene tårner seg opp for den stakkars fredskorpsdeltakeren: is-kaffe blir mangelvare, kaldt drikke blir et luksusgode, oppbevaring av ferskvarer en umulighet, engelskundervisning innstilles; universitetet er stengt pga den ustabile situasjonen, eg springer rundt på restauranter med aggregat for å lade mobil og pc, og stearinlys kvelder hjemme blir eneste mulige kveldsaktivitet. / Increase of standard of living was a fact when hot water tank was installed in the bathroom. However, the pleasure was a short one; electricity disappeared the following day. Not for an hour or two, but so far it has been non existent for a month or so. Such things create uproar; strikes and violence in the streets, closed shops, armed militaries on every street corner, and more or less curfew after nightfall. The challenges pile up for the poor Peace Corps participant: ice-coffee becomes a scarce product, cold drinks in general become a luxury good, impossible to store fresh food, the English teaching is ceased; the University is closed due to unstable situation, I run around visiting restaurants with generators in order to recharge phones and laptop, and candlelight evenings at home is the only possible night activity. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/Rkq58BxyiFI/AAAAAAAAADg/iKCjsFqriOg/s1600-h/IMG_0232.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5065065171852101714" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/Rkq58BxyiFI/AAAAAAAAADg/iKCjsFqriOg/s200/IMG_0232.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Selv uten strøm går livet sin gang på Madagaskar – om mulig i et noe roligere tempo enn før. / Even without electricity life in Madagascar continues – if possible with a pace a little more unhurried than before.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34623260-3745855702047737667?l=milfridtonheim.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milfridtonheim.blogspot.com/feeds/3745855702047737667/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34623260&amp;postID=3745855702047737667' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34623260/posts/default/3745855702047737667'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34623260/posts/default/3745855702047737667'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milfridtonheim.blogspot.com/2007/05/life-continues.html' title='Life Continues'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12835328455581337191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/Rkq60BxyiGI/AAAAAAAAADo/Y2PDsxcdAwY/s72-c/IMG_0022.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34623260.post-5009230396711674720</id><published>2007-05-16T00:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-20T05:18:07.302-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Data Innsamling / Data Collection</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Norsk/English&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Da er datainnsamling gjennomført. Det har uten tvil vært en lærerik, utfordrende, følelsesladet og spennende prosess. Spesielt intervjuene med barna. Ikke så lett å være profesjonell og nøytral når intervju objektet begynner å gråte… / Then the data collection is completed. It has definitely been an instructive, challenging, emotional and exciting process. In particular the interviews with the children. Not easy to be professional and neutral when the interview object starts to cry…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/Rkqv4Rxyh-I/AAAAAAAAACo/8uMj0GbFXqo/s1600-h/IMG_0007.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5065054112311314402" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/Rkqv4Rxyh-I/AAAAAAAAACo/8uMj0GbFXqo/s200/IMG_0007.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/Rkqv4hxyh_I/AAAAAAAAACw/SzLMr5Qhk4w/s1600-h/IMG_0008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5065054116606281714" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/Rkqv4hxyh_I/AAAAAAAAACw/SzLMr5Qhk4w/s200/IMG_0008.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/Rkqv4hxyiAI/AAAAAAAAAC4/7zFeAC_MR-4/s1600-h/IMG_0010.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5065054116606281730" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/Rkqv4hxyiAI/AAAAAAAAAC4/7zFeAC_MR-4/s200/IMG_0010.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/Rkqv4xxyiBI/AAAAAAAAADA/Et0xNyn_acA/s1600-h/IMG_0196.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5065054120901249042" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/Rkqv4xxyiBI/AAAAAAAAADA/Et0xNyn_acA/s200/IMG_0196.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34623260-5009230396711674720?l=milfridtonheim.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milfridtonheim.blogspot.com/feeds/5009230396711674720/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34623260&amp;postID=5009230396711674720' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34623260/posts/default/5009230396711674720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34623260/posts/default/5009230396711674720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milfridtonheim.blogspot.com/2007/05/da-er-datainnsamling-gjennomfrt.html' title='Data Innsamling / Data Collection'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12835328455581337191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/Rkqv4Rxyh-I/AAAAAAAAACo/8uMj0GbFXqo/s72-c/IMG_0007.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34623260.post-1828856075240448113</id><published>2007-04-11T04:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-16T00:40:28.141-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fotoglimt</title><content type='html'>Må jo drive litt reklame for denne nydelige, eksotiske søyen. Mange vakre og morsomme fotomotiver overalt! Så ta med deg kameraet og kom!! &lt;strong&gt;/&lt;/strong&gt; Have to do some advertising about this marvelous, exotic island. Lots of beautiful and funny photo possibilities everywhere. So bring your camera and come!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RhzU1731llI/AAAAAAAAACI/cVSqE4U8EuA/s1600-h/IMG_0259.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052146905072899666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RhzU1731llI/AAAAAAAAACI/cVSqE4U8EuA/s200/IMG_0259.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RhzU1731lmI/AAAAAAAAACQ/M44do-tsYsk/s1600-h/IMG_0370.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052146905072899682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RhzU1731lmI/AAAAAAAAACQ/M44do-tsYsk/s200/IMG_0370.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RhzU2L31lnI/AAAAAAAAACY/BmIW65KKEl0/s1600-h/IMG_0248.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052146909367866994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RhzU2L31lnI/AAAAAAAAACY/BmIW65KKEl0/s200/IMG_0248.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RhzU2L31loI/AAAAAAAAACg/-gBedd7oGak/s1600-h/IMG_0243.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052146909367867010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RhzU2L31loI/AAAAAAAAACg/-gBedd7oGak/s200/IMG_0243.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34623260-1828856075240448113?l=milfridtonheim.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milfridtonheim.blogspot.com/feeds/1828856075240448113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34623260&amp;postID=1828856075240448113' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34623260/posts/default/1828856075240448113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34623260/posts/default/1828856075240448113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milfridtonheim.blogspot.com/2007/04/m-jo-drive-litt-reklame-for-denne.html' title='Fotoglimt'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12835328455581337191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RhzU1731llI/AAAAAAAAACI/cVSqE4U8EuA/s72-c/IMG_0259.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34623260.post-2330492963677508521</id><published>2007-02-07T01:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-07T01:29:19.946-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Regntid / Rainy Season</title><content type='html'>Januar betyr mengder av regn fra himmelen… Og regn kan både være en velsignelse og en plage. Men når temperaturen klatrer opp og nærmer seg 40, da ser til og med eg opp mot himmelen og lengter etter regn. Og når det kommer er det bare å løpe i hus! &lt;strong&gt;/&lt;/strong&gt; January means showers of rain from heaven… And rain can both be a blessing and a curse. But when the temperature is climbing up towards 40 Celsius, even I look up towards the sky and pray for rain. And when it comes, take shelter! &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5028719019736466866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RcmZTh6khbI/AAAAAAAAAAk/cVDGeMZjAXo/s200/IMG_0082.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Og som ellers er det barna som skårer høyest på livsnyterskalaen! &lt;strong&gt;/ &lt;/strong&gt;And as always it’s the children who score the highest score on the life-enjoyment scale!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RcmaBh6khcI/AAAAAAAAAAs/jSfIsx2T6Fc/s1600-h/IMG_0106.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5028719810010449346" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RcmaBh6khcI/AAAAAAAAAAs/jSfIsx2T6Fc/s200/IMG_0106.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RcmaBh6khdI/AAAAAAAAAA0/GyNVZhHNMGo/s1600-h/IMG_0110.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5028719810010449362" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RcmaBh6khdI/AAAAAAAAAA0/GyNVZhHNMGo/s200/IMG_0110.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RcmaBh6kheI/AAAAAAAAAA8/OvCCjfGREsY/s1600-h/IMG_0111.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5028719810010449378" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RcmaBh6kheI/AAAAAAAAAA8/OvCCjfGREsY/s200/IMG_0111.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34623260-2330492963677508521?l=milfridtonheim.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milfridtonheim.blogspot.com/feeds/2330492963677508521/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34623260&amp;postID=2330492963677508521' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34623260/posts/default/2330492963677508521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34623260/posts/default/2330492963677508521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milfridtonheim.blogspot.com/2007/02/regntid-rainy-season.html' title='Regntid / Rainy Season'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12835328455581337191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RcmZTh6khbI/AAAAAAAAAAk/cVDGeMZjAXo/s72-c/IMG_0082.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34623260.post-3366502309412386445</id><published>2007-01-04T14:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-04T14:35:26.767-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Baby Maki!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RZ1_qJg4n2I/AAAAAAAAAAY/hv71yS_iQ0k/s1600-h/F1000005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5016305922045681506" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RZ1_qJg4n2I/AAAAAAAAAAY/hv71yS_iQ0k/s320/F1000005.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RZ17i5g4n1I/AAAAAAAAAAM/fUNwaYxKlAY/s1600-h/F1000005.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Tro det eller ei, men det sitter en skjønn liten baby Maki (lemur) på skulderen min!! En koselig liten krabat!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Believe it or not, but I have a little beautiful baby Maki (lemur) on my shoulder!! A charming little fellow!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34623260-3366502309412386445?l=milfridtonheim.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milfridtonheim.blogspot.com/feeds/3366502309412386445/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34623260&amp;postID=3366502309412386445' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34623260/posts/default/3366502309412386445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34623260/posts/default/3366502309412386445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milfridtonheim.blogspot.com/2007/01/baby-maki.html' title='Baby Maki!'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12835328455581337191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_0M9UscqCA_I/RZ1_qJg4n2I/AAAAAAAAAAY/hv71yS_iQ0k/s72-c/F1000005.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34623260.post-3778934003056093874</id><published>2006-12-18T01:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-04T14:36:57.476-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Julehilsen / Christmas Greeting</title><content type='html'>Hele tunet er fullt av barn som synger og beveger seg i nydelig harmoni – hver lørdag og søndag tropper de opp for å øve til julespillet i kirken. Dagen nærmer seg og eg merker at de gleder seg og er spente. Min egen julestemning står det litt dårligere til med, men det er ikke annet å forvente når man er uten håp om pinnekjøtt og mamma’s deilige julekaker. I tillegg er det 35 varmegrader… Med et lite snev av hjemlengsel må eg bare få sagt at eg har det fortreffelig bra! Madagaskar har helt andre ting å by på, skjønner dere; kameleon som kikker på meg fra en grein rett utenfor verandaen, beachvolley kl 0600 om morgenen, strømkutt og mørke, varme kvelder (ingen vifte…), kaktus som punkterte min kjære volleyball, bevæpnet gjeng som stormer fengselet for å befri familiemedlemmer bare for å nevne noen av de siste dagenes hendelser. Nei, man kjeder seg ikke her i Toliara!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For de som kjenner meg kommer det vel ikke som noe sjokk at julen og nyttåret skal feires i Cape Town, Sør Afrika! Det måtte jo bli en tur dit før eller siden så hvorfor ikke nå? Gleder meg veldig! Skal feire julen sammen med Annie (fra Zimbabwe) og hennes familie så det blir en ordentlig Afrikansk jul. Etterpå skal eg kose meg i en venn av en venns leilighet midt i Cape Town’s sentrum, mate katten hans og vanne Bonsai treet, ta lengre dusj med varmt vann og godt trykk, og ellers bare nyte livet! Alt ordner seg for snille piker!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Til slutt beklager eg lite aktivitet på bloggen i det siste, men lover å komme sterkt tilbake i 2007. Savner mitt digitale kamera (stjålet..), men har mange nye historier som publiseres så fort eg har fått framkalt bilder i Sør Afrika.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ønsker dere alle en nydelig julefeiring og et nytt år med mange forunderlige og vakre erfaringer!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Varm juleklem fra Milfrid&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;English version:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The whole yard is full of kids singing and moving in perfect harmony – every Saturday and Sunday they arrive to rehears for the Christmas play in church. The day is coming closer and I can tell that they are looking forward to it and getting a bit excited. My own Christmas feeling is in another state, but there’s nothing else to be expected when one is without hope of getting the Norwegian Christmas dinner and mammy’s lovely Christmas cookies. In addition it is 35 degrees outside… With a little touch of homesickness, it needs to be said that I’m having a great time! Madagascar has lots of other things to offer, you know; chameleon that looks at me from a breach right outside the veranda, beachvolley at 0600 in the mornings, electricity cuts and dark, warm nights (no fan…), cactus that punctured my volleyball, armed group attacking the prison to free family members just to mention some of the last days’ happenings. No boring day here in Toliara!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess it’s no surprise, to those who really knows me, that Christmas and New Years will be celebrated in Cape Town, South Africa. Sooner or later I would have to make a trip anyway so why not now? Can’t wait! I will celebrate Christmas with Annie (from Zimbabwe) and her family so it will definitely be an African Christmas. Later I’ll enjoy myself in a friend-of-a-friends apartment in the heart of Cape Town, feed his cat and water his Bonsais tree, take warm, long showers with good pressure, and just enjoy life! It all works out well for good girls!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lastly, I’m sorry for the rare activity on the blog lately, but promise to make it up to you in 2007. I miss my digital camera (stolen…) but have lots of new stories which will be available when I get pictures in South Africa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wish you all a wonderful Christmas celebration and a New Year with lots of amazing and beautiful adventures!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Warm Christmas hug from Millie&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34623260-3778934003056093874?l=milfridtonheim.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milfridtonheim.blogspot.com/feeds/3778934003056093874/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34623260&amp;postID=3778934003056093874' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34623260/posts/default/3778934003056093874'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34623260/posts/default/3778934003056093874'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milfridtonheim.blogspot.com/2006/12/julehilsen-christmas-greeting.html' title='Julehilsen / Christmas Greeting'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12835328455581337191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34623260.post-116343099647527287</id><published>2006-11-13T07:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-04T14:37:49.248-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ranet / Robbed</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(English version below)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Det er søndag og jentene har i løpet av en støvete uke sett fram til en dag ved et av byens svømmebasseng. Ett enda bedre forslag lanseres av nabo Bjørn som inviterer oss med til Toliara’s nærmest liggende strand. Bare 3-4 km unna, og der finner vi et langt strandområde helt menneske tomt! Deilig å ha hele stranden for seg selv - her er det virkelig bare å boltre seg! Solkrem og bikinier kommer på og jentene tar seg en deilig dukkert. Bjørn vil ikke forlate bilen så han venter til vi er tilbake før han tar seg en liten tur langs strandkanten. Vi døser i solen og syns livet på Madagascar er strålende! Men hva gjør denne fremmede mannen borte med bilen?? Vi prøver oss med ett par hallo, men han er visst ikke av den snakkesalige typen. Begynner å skjønne hva som skjer og kommer oss på beina mens vi knytter bikinitopper for harde livet. Føler oss ikke akkurat mindre sårbare i kun bikini… Mr. uvedkommende forsøker å åpne bilen, men den har Bjørn låst. Han peker på sekker og vesker inne i bilen og ber oss åpne bilen. Har våpen i hånda – en nunchako. Bagasjeromsdøren er åpen, men vil vi at han skal vite det? Hva om han stikker av med hele bilen? Kjenner eg blir sinna… Og vår gjest blir mer og mer desperat… Drister meg til å stille mellom han og bilen. Har i det siste hørt at eg har farlige øyner, og tenkte at nå kunne jo de komme godt med. Men, dessverre, i det avgjørende øyeblikket holdt de ikke mål… Legger kjapt om strategien og forsøker verbal konfliktløsning. Husker ikke hva som ble sagt. Har en følelse av at eg snakket engelsk, og at han skjønte null og niks. Men kroppsspråk er jo også noe og eg tror vi egentlig skjønte hverandre ganske godt. Eg skjønte i alle fall han veldig godt at det var best å stikke da han løftet nunchakoen mot meg … Stressnivået var vel noe høyt og eg presterte å si til Linda at ”eg springer for å hente Bjørn!” hvorpå ho blir vill i blikket og gav meg tydelig beskjed om at det var et veldig dårlig forslag å springe fra henne nå! Det kunne vært et vakkert bilde med to bikinikledde jenter løpende på en øde strand, men nei. Vi snublet oss over sanddynene, kikket oss over skuldrene, Linda skriker ”Arrêt! Arrêt!” og eg roper febrilsk på Bjørn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Han etterlot seg i alle fall bilen. Ett vindu knust og ingen vesker å se. Vi kommer oss av gårde og forsøker å følge fotsporene til vårt nye bekjentskap, men uten hell. Spør noen som bor i området, men ingen har, selvfølgelig, lagt merke til en ung gutt løpende med to ryggsekker og en knall oransje strandveske. Politistasjonen er neste stopp. Må jo melde ifra. Dreier seg vel mer om forsikringspenger enn om tro på at gjerningsmannen blir tatt. Det ble heller aldri spurt om beskrivelse av tyven så de kan tenkes at politibetjentene var av samme oppfatning. Stemning på politikontoret er relativt slapp. Får beskjed om å skrive erklæringen sjøl – de har ikke papir… Det er bare å gjøre som man får beskjed om, så vi knoter ned noe på fransk og kommer tilbake. Det merkelige er at ved registreringen skrives hele erklæring vår av for hånd av samme politibetjent som tidligere ikke hadde papir… Bjørn (flytende i gassisk) tar seg av snakkingen og vi får god tid til å se oss. Murpuss og malingsflak drysser ned fra alle vegger. Boss og rot overalt. Bak en disk henger bilder av kriminelle i håndjern. Plutselig kommer en rotte spankulerende over golvet. Den neste som krysser gulvet er en arrestert mann som plasseres bak lås og slå. Fengselet ligger vegg-i-vegg. En an mann kommer med hjemmelaget mat og en flaske vann til en av de innsatte. Det er visst sånn fangene overlever….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ja, eg har noen eiendeler færre enn i går, men er nå det så mye å klage over? Og ja, eg ble truet, men ingen ble fysisk skadet. Har eg egentlig ikke mest grunn til å være takknemlig? Konklusjonen er altså at livet fremdeles er strålender her på Madagascar, men de deilige, folketomme strendene kan eg godt klare meg uten!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;English version:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s Sunday and the girls have, during a long and dusty week, been looking forward to a day by one of the city’s swimming pools. An even better suggestion is made by neighbor Bjørn who invites us to Toliara’s nearest beach. Only 3-4 km away we find a beach with no other visitors. How wonderful to have the beach all to ourselves! Sunscreen and bikinis are put on and the girls go for a lovely swim. Bjørn won’t leave the car and waits until we’re back before he goes for a stroll along the beach. We relax in the sun; life in Madagascar is just wonderful! But what the heck is that dude doing by our car?? We try with a couple of hellos, but he is obviously not the talkative type. Starting to realize what is going on we get on our feet while desperately tying our bikini straps. Feels a bit vulnerable to be only in a bikini… The unwanted guest is trying to get into the car, which Bjørn has locked. He points at the bags inside the car and asks us to open the doors. He has a weapon in his hands – a nunchako. The door at the rear is unlocked but do we really want him to know? What if he takes the whole car? I feel my temper arising… And our guest is getting more and more desperate… I dare to go in between him and the car. Lately, I have heard that I have dangerous eyes, and thought that might be handy at the moment. But, unfortunately, in the crucial moment they let me down. I quickly change the tactic to verbal conflict resolution. Can’t remember what was said really. Have a strange feeling that I spoke English and that he understood nada. But body language is also something, and I honestly think we understood each other rather well. At least I perfectly understood that the best thing to do was to run when he raised the nunchako towards me… The stress level was somehow high and managed to say to Linda that “I’ll run for Bjørn” upon which panic filled her eyes and her message was clear that it was not such a good idea to leaver her behind at this moment! It could have been a beautiful picture of two girls running on a sandy beach in their bikinis, but no. We stumbled across the beach, looking over our shoulders, Linda screaming “Arrêt! Arrêt!” and me shouting for Bjørn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least the stranger had left the car. One window broken and no sight of our bags. We get in the car and try to follow the traces of the man, but without any luck. Ask someone leaving close by, but no one, of course, has seen a young man running with two backpacks and a shock-orange beach bag. The police station is the next stop. Have to report it. It is more about insurance money than faith in that the criminal will be caught. In any case, a description of the thief was never asked for so most surely the policemen were of the same opinion. The atmosphere in the police station was rather lazy. We’re asked to write our own declaration of the event – they don’t have paper... It’s better to do as one is told, so we scribble down something in French and get back. Bjørn (fluent in Malagasy) does the talking so we have plenty of time to look around. A shabby room with paint falling off the walls. Garbage is everywhere. The wall behind the counter is full of photos of criminals in handcuffs. Suddenly a rat crosses the floor. In its footstep comes a convicted fellow and is put behind bars. The prison is next door. Another comes to deliver home cooked food and a bottle of water to one of the prisoners. This is how they survive…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I have less material goods than yesterday, but is it really that much to complain about? And yes, I was threatened, but nobody got physically injured. Don’t I actually have all kinds of reasons to be grateful? The conclusion is therefore; Life is still wonderful here in Madagascar, but the beautiful and desolated beaches I can do without!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34623260-116343099647527287?l=milfridtonheim.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milfridtonheim.blogspot.com/feeds/116343099647527287/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34623260&amp;postID=116343099647527287' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34623260/posts/default/116343099647527287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34623260/posts/default/116343099647527287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milfridtonheim.blogspot.com/2006/11/ranet-robbed.html' title='Ranet / Robbed'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12835328455581337191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34623260.post-116297737884833368</id><published>2006-11-08T00:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T00:41:10.380-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Madagascar!</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Netter med gresshoppe-sang og hunder med mye på hjertet. Varme og klamme netter under myggnetting. Myggstikk er allikevel et faktum. Andre stikk vet man ikke helt hva er. Sand mellom tærne. Tær som er noe brunere, men mest skitne. Vakre, hvite strender og romantiske solnedganger. "Klorin" med klesvask og desinfisering av frukt og grønt som bruksområde. Baobab trær som ser ut som at de står opp ned med røttene til værs. Lemurer som ser på meg med store uskyldig øyner. Skjønn liten firfirsle som leieboer på kjøkkenet. Hane med rusten stemme på tunet - som med fordel kunne justert klokken. Deilige frukter man ikke vet navnet på. Hushjelp 3 ganger i uka. Ingen vaskemaskin. Vann som er lunket nesten samma hva man gjør. Syngende barn i gatene og på tunet. Over 30 varmegrader. Og midt i fjeset en rosa nese… Jippi!! Eg er på Madagascar!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nights filled with the song of the croquets and dogs with lots of things that need to be said. Warm and sticky nights under the mosquito net. But the mosquito bites are still a fact. Other bites are difficult to define. Sand between the toes. Toes that are a little more tanned, but mostly dirty. Beautiful white beaches with romantic sunsets. "Bleach" that is both used to wash clothes and disinfect fruits and vegetables. Baobab trees that look like they’re put upside down with the roots towards the sky. Lemurs that look at me with big innocent eyes. Cute little lizard as tenant in the kitchen. Rooster with a rusty voice in the yard – could undoubtedly reset his watch a little. Tasty fruits that one doesn’t know the name of. Housemaid three times a week. No washing machine. Water that’s lukewarm almost no matter what you do. Singing children in the streets and in the yard. More than 30 degrees Celsius. And in the middle of my face there’s a pink nose… Yippee!! I’m in Madagascar!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7760/3817/1600/DSCN05980215.14.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7760/3817/200/DSCN05980215.14.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7760/3817/1600/DSCN06030220.13.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7760/3817/200/DSCN06030220.14.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7760/3817/1600/DSCN05820204.13.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7760/3817/200/DSCN05820204.14.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7760/3817/1600/DSCN06170233.7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7760/3817/200/DSCN06170233.7.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7760/3817/1600/DSCN06260240.8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7760/3817/200/DSCN06260240.10.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34623260-116297737884833368?l=milfridtonheim.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milfridtonheim.blogspot.com/feeds/116297737884833368/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34623260&amp;postID=116297737884833368' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34623260/posts/default/116297737884833368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34623260/posts/default/116297737884833368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milfridtonheim.blogspot.com/2006/11/madagascar_08.html' title='Madagascar!'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12835328455581337191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34623260.post-116177369899005359</id><published>2006-10-25T03:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T00:41:10.212-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tante Mille / Auntie Mille</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;En av mine viktigste og artigste roller her i livet er å være Tante Mille, og de 4 skjønne smårollingene gjør dagene travle for meg så fort eg er i nærheten! Og eg bare elsker å være travel sammen med de! La meg få presentere mine favoritter: Shikara (Sept 03), Ebenezer (Feb 04), David (April 05) og lille Hadassah (Sept 06). Er de ikke skjønne?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my most important and joyful roles in life is the role of Auntie Mille, and the 4 wonderful little ones keep me busy as soon as I’m around. And I just love being busy with them! Let me present my favourites: Shikara (Sept 03), Ebenezer (Feb 04), David (April 05) and little Hadassah (Sept 06). Ain’t they adorable?!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7760/3817/1600/DSCN0240.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7760/3817/200/DSCN0240.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7760/3817/1600/DSCN0299.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7760/3817/200/DSCN0299.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7760/3817/1600/Shikara%20m%20paraply.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7760/3817/200/Shikara%20m%20paraply.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7760/3817/1600/DSCN0167.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7760/3817/200/DSCN0167.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7760/3817/1600/DSCN0243.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7760/3817/200/DSCN0243.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34623260-116177369899005359?l=milfridtonheim.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milfridtonheim.blogspot.com/feeds/116177369899005359/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34623260&amp;postID=116177369899005359' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34623260/posts/default/116177369899005359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34623260/posts/default/116177369899005359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milfridtonheim.blogspot.com/2006/10/tante-mille-auntie-mille.html' title='Tante Mille / Auntie Mille'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12835328455581337191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34623260.post-116093233248434416</id><published>2006-10-15T10:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T00:41:10.152-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Avskjeds Fest / Leaving Party</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Det er på tide å forlate Norge til fordel for solskinns øyen,, Madagascar :) og dermed også på tide å si farvel :(. Sted: Biskopen. Dato: 23. oktober. Stedet ble fullt opp av kjære venner og eg hadde en fantastisk kveld! Eg tror jammen eg må flytte litt oftere for avskjedsparty er gøy! Takk til alle mine venner som gjorde dette til en uforglemmelig aften!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The day for leaving Norway in favour of the sunny island, Madagascar, is approaching :) and with that also time to say good bye :(. Venue: The Bishop. Date: 23 October. The place was filled up with dear friends and I had a great time! I think I better leave more often cause leaving parties are fun! Thanks to all the my friends for making this a memorable night!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7760/3817/1600/Eg%20og%20Kristian.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7760/3817/200/Eg%20og%20Kristian.0.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7760/3817/1600/DSCN0328.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7760/3817/200/DSCN0328.0.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7760/3817/1600/Trond%2C%20Grete%2C%20Tor%20Martin%2C%20Kristian.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7760/3817/200/Trond%2C%20Grete%2C%20Tor%20Martin%2C%20Kristian.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7760/3817/1600/Party%21.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7760/3817/200/Party%21.0.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7760/3817/1600/Tord%2C%20Inger%20Karin%2C%20Johny.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7760/3817/200/Tord%2C%20Inger%20Karin%2C%20Johny.0.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34623260-116093233248434416?l=milfridtonheim.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://milfridtonheim.blogspot.com/feeds/116093233248434416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34623260&amp;postID=116093233248434416' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34623260/posts/default/116093233248434416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34623260/posts/default/116093233248434416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://milfridtonheim.blogspot.com/2006/10/avskjeds-fest-leaving-party.html' title='Avskjeds Fest / Leaving Party'/><author><name>Millie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12835328455581337191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry></feed>
