Midsommar

MELLBY STRAND - A short train ride carried us across the border from Denmark to Sweden (Malmö to be precise). Typical American panic was still creeping around inside me as I became aware that no one was checking any passports and I was now in another country and no one knew about it. I was sure I must be doing something wrong.

"It's fine," I was assured and would need to be again several times over the next few days.

We arrived at Jenny's parents' summer house on the coast. It was a beautiful and peaceful place. A true kind of quiet that is hard to find.

A five-minute walk took us to the beach where we jumped around in sand and my foot became a sculpture.



That afternoon I took a short nap despite my deep belief that I am immune to the effects of jet lag (I continue to argue the fact that I had barely slept the several nights before, almost didn't sleep at all before flying, and managed to only sleep an hour or so on the flight while crossing over multiple time zones and seeming to lose track of what month I was even in...)

Jenny had prepared dinner while I slept and we sat eating and talking. Most of the remainder of the night (I use the term night loosely as I haven't experienced full darkness since arriving) was spent talking.

Except during the game.

Jenny will insist she doesn't like football. Doesn't care.

I'm unconvinced.

There was a game that night between Sweden and Russia and things didn't go well for Sweden. I watched, amused, as Jenny randomly shouted and probably swore at the TV.

Ahh... Just like growing up in a house with my father around the time any Chicago team makes it to some kind of playoff and totally blows it. Lots of yelling, jumping up from seats, and shaking fingers at televisions.

The next morning, the first one to arrive was Jenny's father. I'd like to believe I made a good first impression.

Others slowly filtered in over the course of the afternoon, mostly friends of Jenny. Tobias, Martina, and Dan arrived first. I found that Dan was English and had moved to Sweden to be with Martina, so I knew if nothing else, I had a native English speaker to fall back on. Although I soon discovered that everyone spoke English very well and were very happy to speak with me.

Later we would see the arrival of Anneli, Lena, Jasper, Maria, Jenny's sister Julia, and her mother.

Jenny's mother greeted me with a big smile, a bigger hug, and a warm "Welcome to Sweden!"

I smiled.

Everyone else looked on suspiciously.

I was told that she is never that nice to someone new and I had best be on my guard. For the remainder of the weekend, I think I flinched a little whenever she called my name.

Everyone was very nice to me right away and interested in learning more about me and sharing about themselves.

The closest I got to anything other than a warm reception was from a friend of Jenny's parents, Christina (sp?), who exclaimed, "You're not from Sweden!" as I introduced myself and replied, "No. I'm from America."

"Oh."

Later, we sat and talked for quite some time about the troubles in America, its image around the world, and the teaching she had done in Sweden. At the end of the weekend, I got a big hug goodbye, so I'm chalking that up as a personal victory.

The next day we got up and the day slowly began. Midsummer is the biggest holiday in Sweden (or a close second). It marks the time of the longest days of the years, the official beginning of summer, and is a great time to get together with lots of family, friends, and Schnapp's.

We watched the dance around the maypole (yes, I know... very phallic). The community celebration was taking place in a field right next to the house so we sat out there for a bit and watched the crowd.



Some of the girls had gone out to collect flowers, a part of the holiday. If you collect seven different flowers and place them under your pillow, you are supposed to dream of your future husband.

I don't know that anyone actually slept with flowers under their pillows, but they did make some nice headwreaths, which made the rounds...



We all met for dinner at a long table in the yard. A traditional dinner with lots of meats and potatoes. There was no fish at this meal, but never fear, I got stuck eating some earlier in the afternoon.

"Would you like some fish cake, Nick?" asked Jenny's uncle.

"Uh... Uh..."

Trying to balance my desire to not offend and my interest in trying new things with my insistence that I not get sick in front of anyone along with the personal commitment I made to never eat anything named "fish cake", I felt kind of stuck.

"Uh... Uh..."

Stammering and stuttering was not helping my case. Nor was the fact that Jenny was just staring on with a very amused look on her face.

"Oh, Nick. I think you should."

Jasper and Maria were already getting up to and dusting themselves off to follow along for the show.

"Uh... Uh..."

"Yes," said her uncle. "You will come and try some fish cake."

As I was being marched to what I felt was surely my death (or just total embarrassment in front of a bunch of people), I tried to look for a way out.

Running? Too cowardly.

Fainting? Too embarrassing.

Faking a seizure? Too unbelievable.

As Jenny, her friends, her parents, and assorted other grown-ups watched, all trying to stifle their laughter, I took the knife to cut a piece for myself.

"That's too small," Jenny chimed in.

"It's plenty big," I replied, probably sounding a bit more desperate than I wanted to. "Why don't you have some?"

"Oh. I can't. Vegetarian."

Dammit. I should have gone full-vegetarian before I left.

I sat down with everyone and cut a small piece. I tried to engage in the conversation, stalling a bit, but there wasn't much I could do.

So I took a bite.

And chewed.

And it wasn't bad.

Kind of like potato salad, except fishier. But not bad. It had a good taste to it. I said so and they all just laughed and said they didn't believe me. I would have eaten more, but the thought of eating fish was what was getting in the way.

I finished my piece, sighed softly, and walked away with chuckles behind me.

So, as I was saying, there was good news in the way that no fish was available at the dinner. We sat down to a large feast: Meats, potatoes, vegetables, corn on the cob, various salads... it was all very good.



There was much drinking and several toasts during the meal, courtesy of Joel.



We had dessert later, which was something very well known to me: cake. Strawberry covered cake to be precise, much like what I'm used to having around Memorial or Labor Day cookouts.

Delicious.

Just check out how much Albert enjoyed his piece.



The evening was filled with music, stories, and laughter and I had a great time, even/especially when I didn't know what was going on. I found myself bursting into laughter with everyone else even after someone was several minutes into a story in Swedish. I've made the decision that laughter is one of those universal communicators. You need no other common denominator because there are certain truths you will find again and again.

Like the fact that older people love to break loose and dance when they're drunk.



Everything went on very late into the night. I've found myself to be full of energy sometimes at all hours because the sun never really sets during the summer. It simply drops below the horizon and pops up again soon enough on the other side. There have been times I was sure it was rising at the same time it was setting, like two suns were going at once...

The next day was considerably more laid back and there was a bit of rain at one point. I think most people were a bit tired from the festivities of the day before. We had another big meal at the table.

At one point, it felt like the dinner tables at Thanksgiving or Christmas. We were segregated by age: Adults in a yard on one side of the house, kids on the other.

Kids' Table and Grown-Up Table.

The kids decided it was time to hit the carnival and we all headed out. Like the Midway at a fair, there were rides, food, games, and carnies everywhere.

Carnies around the world are all kind of creepy.

We hit the bumper cars and had a blast, although the only people on the ride were those in our group. This meant we were able to reach top speed while screaming across the floor before slamming into one another, only being held in place by a loop around our midsection.



It didn't exactly hold us in place very well.



Not that it slowed anyone down.



So we all emerged, battered, bruised, and laughing.

Afterward we sat around in a caravan, listening to music, joking around, and I told some ghost stories, sharing a bit of home.

Everyone filtered out by late the next morning. I took a nap and then helped Jenny straighten the place up a bit. I desperately needed to wash some clothes and felt confident I could get the washer started on my own with intuition.

Wrong.

I stared at the knobs, not knowing at all what they meant and finally gave up to ask for help.

Maybe I had offended the washer, because it tried to eat my clothes. It refused to change cycles on its own, took forever to finish, and finally had to be almost broken into at the end.

Perhaps I'll include my artist's rendition of the event at a later time.

We tossed my wet clothes up in front of the fire (it was raining outside at the time) and poor Jenny had no time to wash her clothes. We eventually abandoned the foolish idea of drying my clothes and I tossed them into a bag with the promise to finish it later.

One last search went through the house, making sure everything was turned off, no food was left out, and all things were packed.

Locking the doors and starting the car, we were bound for Gothenburg...

Peace and Love

GOTHENBURG - I'm heading out to the Peace and Love Festival for the rest of the week.

I'll be back on the 29th.

Backpack Feared Dead (Or Something); Worldwide Search Begins; Suspect Still Missing

BLOOMINGTON, IL - The much-loved and rarely used backpack of local resident, Tom Hopper, is still missing after vanishing "a week ago-ish", according to local authorities.

Search-and-rescue teams have been scouring the city following leads from dozens of concerned residents interested in collecting Hopper's promised "two or three hug" reward.

"Yeah, I've seen some backpacks this week," said seriously concerned local, Jeff Karr. "Can I have my hugs now?"

The whereabouts of prime suspect, Nick $now, continue to go unknown but the aptly named international police agency, Interpol, has now become involved.

"We are scouring the Western world for this (alleged) abductor," said Interpol agent John MacIntyre, the official heading up the case. He added, "We don't take this kind of thing lightly."

Earlier yesterday, Hopper's wife, Meighan, chose to write an official statement to the press due to the emotional strain on her husband or because of the fact that he was maybe just messing around in the garage.

We just want the responsible party to know that
all we want is the safe return of the backpack
to its home. We have two young daughters and
they will probably start crying about this any
day now.

Local authorities have set up food tents and lodging for the hundreds of volunteers that flood this Midwestern town daily, offering help in any way they can.

At press time, a weary-eyed Hopper appeared in front of thousands of supporters, using a stage that had been erected for the local bands playing to raise money for the efforts. A tearful and heartwarming speech followed, one that was too emotionally moving for this reporter to recount. The crowd broke into applause and deep sobs upon its conclusion.

Encouraged by cheers of "Encore! Encore!" Hopper once again gathered the strength to mount that mighty stage and added, "I dunno. Its probably just in the backseat of his car where I left it."

Buh Bye, U.S. and A.

CHICAGO/ATLANTA/COPENHAGEN/MALMÖ - So much for a good night's rest before flying out.

Instead, I used my time slowly filling up my new iPod with music (a long story I will get to when I finally backtrack and talk about Denver and Illinois). I also spent a lot of time transferring files to the an external hard drive and erasing everything from my computer.

As my excuse, I didn't want to have any problems with customs if someone searched my laptop... not that I would have any kind of, say... I dunno... music files on there I wasn't supposed to...

So, the night was spent laying in bed, passing out from time to time between folding clothes, packing bags, erasing files, and pacing back and forth scratching my head while being convinced I would forget something important (I forgot my swimsuit, by the way).

I finally "got up" in the morning and took a shower. Let me say, I had forgotten just how much I enjoyed showers at my dad's apartment. Slightly rusty, metallic smelling water... the old soap smell... incredibly dry hair and hands afterward, even in the humid Illinois weather... ah, the good ol' days.

I was still loading my iPod while dad tells me over and over how we are running late.

"But we are still going to get there 3 hours beforehand" was all I could think.

As we jumped in the car, my dad suggested we say our goodbyes right then and there. His reasoning being that the airport would be busy and he might have to just slow down and send me rolling out of the car, tossing my bags on the side of the road.

I assured him we would have time when we got there.

And we did. We said our goodbyes and I imagined him getting teary-eyed while driving off slowly. Instead I think I heard the music turned up louder as his tires peeled out and he sped away.

OK. Maybe not the last part.

I thought there would be a big wait or something. Anything to explain the need to get to the airport that early.

Nope. Just extra waiting to allow me the proper opportunity to get even more anxious about my trip.

On the plus side, I did manage to hold off for 15-20 minutes before I pulled out my computer and tried to get online to write a blog. I really know how to rough it, eh?

O'Hare offered WiFi for the low, low price of $6.95 for the day. Hmm... I considered it. Seven dollars for an hour or so of internet service. Nah. I went and paid for an overpriced water instead.

I spent the time listening to music and working on an origami butterfly.

Chicago to Atlanta was an easy flight. It was nice to have everything go smoothly. I'm used to Chicago always being delayed, or worse, canceled. This would be a big problem in many ways, the first of which was the fact that I only had a one-hour layover in Atlanta.

Atlanta was maybe nice. I wouldn't really know. I was there for a few minutes. Enough time to make a collect call to my mom and find out the money hadn't arrived to be deposited into my account.

More anxiety.

The flight to Copenhagen was pretty easy, considering it meant sitting still for 9 hours. I made a new friend on the flight, Tove, and we spent time chatting. Turns out, she's a drug counselor as well and this led to plenty of conversation. That and the totally awesome games the flight offered in the mini-TV in front of each seat.

I felt a bit out of sorts at the end of the flight. I don't know that I really slept at all. The website I booked through asked if I wanted a window seat. Of course I did. I could look down on everything, be away from the aisle, sleep against something...

Turns out the website was just a big tease.

I spent the Chicago-Atlanta flight sitting in the third seat from the window in a plane that was five seats across. Furthest one away. Hmm...

Atlanta-Copenhagen? There were two seats by the windows, then an aisle, three seats in the center, and aisle, and two more seats by the other side's windows. My seat? Middle seat, middle section, furthest from the window.

Tease.

The flight landed almost right on time. Baggage claim was easy. Money exchange - simple. And customs? A stamp and a "good day".

Next thing I know, I'm out. Hmm...

Something had to be wrong. I must have done something wrong. I went down a wrong hallway, I didn't see the right people, I sidestepped the cavity search...

I thought about going back in. "Please, please, I made a mistake! Where is the cavity search! I missed it!"

I stood for a minute, looking around aimlessly...

"You look so lost," said the voice behind me.

Crap.

I was supposed to meet Jenny in the Burger King upstairs. You know, after I had figured out where I was, shaken some of the tired out of my face, and composed myself a little more.

Not slack-jawed and weary eyed and totally confused...

...it was good to see her again.

We bought train tickets to Malmö, where her car was parked.

Sitting at the train station, we started to catch up.

International Travel Has Already Made Me More Mature

COPENHAGEN, DENMARK - My first picture after landing in Denmark.



He's picking his nose, get it?

The Send-Off...

I spent a lot of time with the hostel/ex-hostel crew on those last two days.

Went shopping in the Haight for wedding duds with Holly and caught up with her since we hadn't visited much since she returned to China. And now she's out there again, getting that business of hers up and going. Best of luck...

Saw everyone at the hostel on Sunday night but ended up spending most of my time packing and loading up my car anyway. Trader Joe's was cool enough to let me store my car in their garage overnight which meant I didn't have to wait until Monday morning with someone guarding it from the Street Nazis while I ran up and down stairs. I loaded it all up and met people out for one last Cheese Fry Hunting Session.

It would have been a good idea for me to get a good night's sleep, but I ended up talking with Chris until the wee hours, which was an even better idea.

The next day I dragged ass and left much later than I had anticipated. I thought I would grab coffee with Chris but he was dragging ass too, so we had a Good Luck Sandwich Lunch with Dave at the hostel instead (unfortunately, he had to work on my last morning in town...) Chris and I went to pick up my car and stopped at Coit Tower first, something I had never actually done with my time in San Francisco. You really can see the whole city from up there. It looks so tiny with some perspective and I guess it really is, but I suppose that's what makes the city so great. So accessible.

I did last minute panic packing and loading while people guarded my car and we all did a hasty goodbye outside. I was sad that everyone couldn't be there, but honestly, I had been doing goodbyes for that last week anyway...



I took off and dropped Chris off at his apartment.

Halfway onto the Interstate, Chris called.

"How far away are you?"

"Um, not far. Whatcha need, buddy?"

"My car's been towed. Can you pick me up and drop me off at work in Oakland."

Ha. I turned around and picked him up.

I finally had a chance to see where Chris works and we spent a little more time talking about the adventure I'm about to head out on... and some of the terror that comes along with it.

I couldn't be more excited.

I got in my car and headed east.

Now Is All You Have

Anton, this one is for you if you read this thing...

I haven't checked out the music, but I like the sticker.

Yeah,Yeah, Yeah

So, I didn't update like promised.

Surprised?

Anyway, lots to get through, so let's get started.

Went to Yosemite for a long deserved and very late vacation. All of us working at the hostel get a free trip there, which is pretty great, as a result of us hanging out with Yosemite Dave and giving him a free place to crash each Sunday.

I spent my drive down there silent and avoiding conversation with everyone.

"Don't feel like you need to get to know everyone on the bus," Dave said to me. I took it to heart.

I didn't say a word to anyone except "hello" to Benny and Brian, the tour guide/drivers, when they picked me up. I spent the trip isolated with headphones on, tuning everyone out. Something about being friendly and getting to know everyone through two jobs over the course of 7 months leaves you with the desire for a little "Me Time".


My view from my private Back Seat Isolation Spot...

After a 3+ hour drive, we got out at the hostel and checked in. I haven't stayed at any other hostel and realized why Pacific Tradewinds has a reputation for being so friendly. We really are. We go out of our way to get to know people and give them all the information they need. The staff at the Yosemite Bug Hostel were great, don't get me wrong, but the check in process involved taking my money, handing me a key, and pointing downhill to the cabin I would be staying in. I wasn't in the mood to talk anyway, so it worked out, but it was definitely different from my usual 20-minute spiel I give the guests about the hostel and city and my personal tour.

I dropped off my things and caught up with Yosemite Dave at a picnic bench. Then time for dinner. The meals there were great and relatively cheap. In fact, the whole trip only cost me $37 after I bought the Breakfast/Dinner Meal Plan and entrance to the Spa. Not bad for a full weekend out in the woods.

I think I took the not talking thing too far though as I found myself feeling pretty lonely around 8 pm. I had already eaten dinner, hit the hot tub and sauna, had a very brief (and literally breathtaking cold shower), another dip in the hot tub, and a real shower.

Now what?

I started feeling pretty lonely but still didn't get myself to approach some people to strike up conversation. Very mature, Nick. Instead, I just kind of walked around aimlessly for a bit and then tried drawing/reading a book.

No luck.

I've also realized that loneliness leaves me with an empty feeling in my stomach which in turn leaves me... hungry. Ridiculous. And here I was, in a National Park, with no cash at a place that only accepts such payment. No food for me.

I finally decided to try going to sleep earlier than I have gone to sleep in the past 8 months (with one exception - when I fell asleep at 8:30pm and then found myself wide awake at 3pm, a condition that lasted until the next night...)

To save myself time and provide a more entertaining story, I'll copy the explanation I sent to Jenny:

I intended to listen to music but ran into a problem. As soon as I put in my headphones and turned my head, one of the earbuds popped out. The wire had been trapped under my shoulder and yanked it out of my ear. But it was much worse than that. The rubber earbud (the only size that fits my funny ears) popped off the rest of the headphone and I watched, helpless, as it bounced twice (very action movie, slow motion-like, as I slowly mouthed, "Nooooo...") and rolled off the edge of the bed.

Behind the bed.

Under my mattress was a large wooden cabinet locker for my bag. And now my earbud was somewhere on the floor, trapped between the locker and the wall.

Now comes the ridiculous.

I'm now swearing repeatedly under my breath, rummaging around, trying to get my fat hand into the tiny space between the bed and wall, openly defying all we know of physics. I hopped off the bed and started doing an Angry Dance in my underwear. For my roommates' sakes, they were all guys.

I continued with the swearing, trying to keep the volume down. There were two roommates in at the moment. One was asleep in the other room. Another was in a perpendicular bed at the end of mine. In between my bouts of random swear words I was repeatedly apologizing to the roommate in my room.

It was only 10 minutes later that I learned he was watching a movie on his iPod and had headphones in, not hearing a word of any of it.

So, there I am, clad in only black and gray boxers, dancing and swearing, swinging around violently, spitting gibberish, and talking to imaginary roommates.

Hmm...

I tried a MacGuyver-like move by pulling my belt out of my pants on the floor and dragging it between the wall and locker to attempt to slowly move the earbud to the edge where I could reach it. No luck.

Then I realized that the locker had a bit of space underneath it and it was very likely my earbud had rolled a bit under it too, therefore meaning I was wasting my time trying to get it out with my belt.

So I slipped on my shoes and ran outside into the cold mountain air to find myself a tree branch to use in my quest for my earbud. I couldn't afford to lose this earbud. I don't even know how much trouble it would take to get a new one and the only quick way would be to buy all new headphones, which was not reasonable as they were fairly expensive in the first place.

Maybe it was the cold mountain air.

Maybe it was a brief moment of sanity.

Either way, I suddenly realized I was skulking around in the moonlight in only my boxers and a pair of shoes, looking for a tree branch in the dark.

Suddenly embarrassed, I ran back into the cabin. Plan B.

I tried to lift the bed itself but soon realized it weighed about the same as a rhinoceros. Then I discovered the locker shifted a bit. I turned it one way but then couldn't see in the back. I turned it the other way and had the same result on the other side.

Ugh.

So, the Swearing Angry Dance began again. Then I pulled the locker open and started trying to drag it along the carpet under the mattress. Success! Luckily, I was in one of the only beds to have just one locker under the bed, so there was space to drag it. With considerable effort, I got it moved halfway down the bed and was able to retrieve my earbud.

Phew.

Then I proceeded to spend most of the night awake anyway. Oh well. Music didn't help, but at least I got to listen to a lot of new stuff.


The next morning, I woke early to get some breakfast (again: great) and got ready for the day's hike. We were going with Brian into the park for most of the day.

The drive took over an hour and the first destination was the Sequoias.

In case anyone needs this clarified: They're big.



Real big.

My favorite trees I saw were called the "Faithful Couple".



Two trees that had grown together long ago and now lived as one. Very sweet...

A little perspective if you need it.



We then hiked to the top of Sentinel Dome, a massive rock structure formed my glaciers sculpting the rock into a sort of onion shape.



The view from there was fantastic, allowing you to see large parts of the park.







We stopped and ate our bagged lunch. I made the first of a couple new friends while I was there, Nibbles and Mr. Whiskers. Nibbles was checking out my cup o' hummus and I let him do so but then he got greedy and stole the whole thing. I forgave him anyway.





Sadly, try as I might all day, the trip did not generate any bears. My quest continues.



We spent a while hiking to the top of a waterfall after this. Seven months worth of climbing up and down 5 flights of stairs multiple times a day definitely helped me with this task.





On the way up, we saw a rainbow through the mist of the waterfall. It was so close, it looked like you could reach out to grab it.



I want my gold!

At the top, we spent time sitting in the sun and enjoying the weather. In a matter of hours we had gone from walking around in snow to sunbathing.

I met another new friend, Roger, but he turned out to be the fair-weather kind and didn't stick around for long as I was food-less.



We heading back after this and enjoyed a relaxing evening. I went through my spa routine again first before going for dinner, deciding not to repeat the mistake of the night before, going to bed hungry. I had a huge meal that night and met a lot of new people. Some of them had just been at the Pacific Tradewinds, so it was a good starting point for conversation, including one fella who had one of the best names I've ever heard, Barnaby Jagger.

Ended the night listening to music without any earbud fiascoes but still didn't sleep much. I'm starting to realize the noise of the city drowns out all the head-noise and the time out in the wilderness was not nearly as peaceful as I had hoped. But it was still great.

The next morning we all packed up everything, checked out, and went out for a shorter hike with Benny. It was a nice hike along a narrow cliff right next to the Merced River.



Nothing to fear but Poison Oak and Rattlesnakes. Reminded me of looking for Rattlesnakes at Ginseng National Park in Washington. And Scorpion Hunting in Death Valley. And Bear Searches in Yellowstone...

Hmm...

There has to be something wrong with me...

I made one more friend out there, Newt (yeah, so it's not very original... but stop blaming me... blame his unoriginal parents... in fact, maybe we should just stop talking about it... he's quite sensitive about the matter...)



I was tempted to go swimming at the swimming hole we stopped at, despite the fact no one else was willing to. I figured I would just tough it out slightly wet and commando on the ride back.



I felt confident I could handle the chilly water after two late-night dips in the San Francisco ocean, something that was not entirely comfortable temperature-wise. i was encouraged to test the water out, which I did, even though I had only planned on jumping in and then climbing right back out again.



I'm glad I did.

The river was all snow melt from the top of the mountain and unbearably cold. The foot dipping in the picture above lasted about as long as it took to take the picture. Then I ran away...

We sat in the sun, my feet warmed up, and we hiked back to the van.

Some nice close-ups on the way back...



After grabbing our belongings and eating lunch, we headed back to San Francisco.

Benny voted me as navigator for the front seat since I was the only one "from" San Francisco and could help with directions when back in the city. I ended up talking his ear off most of the trip back. We talked about traveling a lot and he extended an invitation to Portland should he ever return there. A cool guy.

I was good to get back and hop in the shower. My goodbye party was that night and I had a chance to visit with a lot of friends I had made through work and the city. A good bookend this part of my time in San Francisco...