Task 2
Questions 13-18
Read the text below.
For questions 13-18, choose the correct answer (A, B, C or D).
Mark your answer on the answer sheet.
Husky sledding in the Arctic
Having prepared myself for the idea that, except for a few hours of twilight at midday, I’d seen the last of the sun for a week, it was only on landing in Lapland that I realised a certainty about travelling to this part of the Arctic Circle at Christmas. Before I was out of the arrivals hall I’d been sung at by elves and seen several English children running around, their father on his knees, pretending to be a reindeer. It was Santa Mayhem. I’d been warned that Finland had a crazy edge to it. I hadn’t realised it was the visitors that were mad.
At the hotel, steering clear of French tots having their photo taken with wooden cut-outs of a husky and Santa, I walk down to the river that marks the border with Sweden. Ice covers all but the centre of the river. Following the dark bank using my head torch, I can hear the howls of huskies. The cold creeps around my hair, caressing each follicle with icy fingertips. My breathing slows. I will leave the sugary horror behind and enter the primeval world of man, dogs and frozen wilderness.
In the morning darkness, I join Andrea, Eva, Rozie, Susie, and Meku, our guide. No one knows each other. We follow the hurricane of howling and head for the canine yard. My five four-legged companions are Gaudi, Coco, Shakira, Dior and Armani. It’s Milan 2010 all over again. The mental image of brightly lit Italian catwalks disappears when Armani pounces on Dior with a snarl. Dior goes for the ear, but Armani responds with a neck grip. A bellow from Gaudi separates them.
Now they are springing up and down in their leather harnesses, desperate to be moving. I’m grateful for the rope tied to a pole in the snow and the hooks embedded in ice at our feet. The idea is that you stand on the runners at the back of the sledge, holding on to a wooden bar. Meku jams her brake, a toothed metal bar at her feet, into the ice. Then she releases the rope and lifts the snow hooks. She gives a signal, then goes.
When we stop, there is frost on our eyelashes. ‘I have some conflict about this,’ says Eva as we remove their harnesses and chain the dogs, a routine to be repeated every day. No one else seems to mind. There is firewood to fetch and light in the cabin. Water from a hole in the ice is carried in dustbins for the sauna. Then the dogs have meat soup with dry food. Snacks are cut for them for the next day. The thermometer is hovering around -25°C.
On our third day we meet reindeer herders. They tend to the terrified reindeer with few words. The animals react with small grunting noises. We spot squirrels and Siberian jays. The days slip away all too quickly. The dogs begin to know us. Gaudi stops glancing around to remind me to jump off on steep hills. I find I can balance on the runners and ride with less difficulty. The group has melded well. Working with the dogs has given us a shared purpose. The good humour and enthusiasm of the animals have rubbed off. When we get back, the world has become a better place. We put our faces into the wooden cut-outs and take each other’s pictures. Have we, I wonder, somewhere in those Arctic forests, without even trying, caught a little Christmas spirit?
What did the author of the text dislike when he arrived in Lapland?
How does the author feel when he sees the river?
What is the author describing at the end of paragraph 3?
Which part of the equipment serves for keeping the passenger stable while riding the sled?
What is Eva unhappy about?
What do we find out about the dogs from paragraph 6?