Repeating Success

Since we had such a good time last year, despite the car breaking down, we decided to do it again, and on Monday me and my father are leaving for Germany. But I might have to sedate him with some Gammel Dansk, in order to keep him from nagging about my driving habits. Apparently he consider it's vital to keep both hands on the wheel at all times, at exactly 10-2 position. Can't see why he's so bothered with me steering with my knees, holding the mobile in one hand and a beer in the other?

I really look forward to take the ferry to Fredrikshavn and drive across Jutland this time, and I expect some pleasant scenery and a stop or two for coffee and Kæmpe Kondi, my all time favorite popsicle. And with my dad having bought a new car I also think we'll arrive safely at Ellen's later in the evening without having any technical hickups.

By for now, and I'll be back in a few days. :)

The Things We Do For Love

Did a little Thelma & Louise today, me and my friend Hannah. Except of course the flying off the cliff in the end. Well, Hannah did some flying, which was the reason for this road trip to begin with.

But let's jump back half a year, when it all started.

Not only was Hannah single and wanted that someone special to enter her life, but she had some criteria as well - he should be Scottish! Never mind why, but that was what she wanted. And she also pictured herself living there, country style and everything. So how would she go about achieving that? I suggested she'd set up a profile on a net dating site, something she was a novice to. She was reluctant at first, if not terrified, but I wouldn't listen to that and the very next I'd found her a suitable Scottish site. I'll try to cut the story short here: she set up a profile, found someone she fancied, they started writing to each other, EVERYDAY, and four months later she crossed the North Sea to visit him for a day and a half. I'd love to know what her secret is, 'cause after that he was lost, smitten, totally besotted, and now she's selling her house to move to Scotland. Now, that's a modern love story, isn't it?

Back to today's events then.

Hannah had decided to celebrate the Norwegian National Day, 17th of May, in Edinburgh with her "loverboy", and I was going to take her to the airport this morning. Unfortunately there were union members of Avinor going on strike as from today 8 o'clock, which led to several airports being closed, including ours. Hannah was happily unaware of all this until I called her and broke the news. Think, think, what can we do? Widerøe was very helpful and rebooked her flight to Stavanger instead, which was open, and there was plenty of time to get there by boat. Had it only been any seats left. When we arrived at the dock the place was crowded, and it soon became evident that most people had to turn back. "OK, let's drive" I said, "we'll have to get you on that plane". She's a little fragile right now, and I knew in my heart she'd be devastated if she couldn't go to him.

We started at half past ten, and arrived at Sola airport around three, where I only stayed long enough to see her safely checked in. I headed straight home again, except for a few minutes on the beach. Perhaps you wouldn't suspect that, but actually there's a "world class" beach right outside Stavanger. Too cold most of the year for any serious sunbathing, but the windsurfers love the spot. And on a beautiful day like this, though rather windy, it was magnificent to stretch my legs and walk barefoot in he sand, before I had to place myself behind the wheel again.

Who's Driving?

I'm not sure if it'll help with my writing, but my mood certainly got a boost. I saw my friend Toril today (correction: yesterday, as I didn't finish this post the same day I started it), and she tried her best to set me straight. I must admit her effort was quite good, and she reminded me of a few things I needed to hear. But there was one metaphor she used that got me thinking.

Now, what she told me was to get into the driving seat. Although it's a good metaphor for taking control over your own situation, and not letting anyone else push you around, I'm not sure I like the consequence of it. 'Cause if you're taking over the wheel, doesn't that mean the previous driver is now left where you didn't want to be? Is that fair? Would you rather be the bully?

But this doesn't make sense, I see that. Of course "the car" is a symbol for your own life, which you should drive yourself, but then again, isn't it kinda sad if we're all driving around alone in our cars? So how can we travel but still be together with other people? Use public transportation!

The problem with trying to expand a metaphor is that you'll sooner or later dig a pit for yourself, and with this one there are several dangers. Like, who's driving the vehicle? How can we avoid unwanted passengers?

Therefore I'd say life isn't an ordinary subway trip under the city's ground, maybe it's more like an adventure bus charter tour? Imagine us all in charge of our own buses, where we decide where we want to go, and we also decide who's allowed on board. (People who are misbehaving are dropped off in the middle of nowhere, preferably in the alps during winter.) Some people organize exotic tours which will take us to far away places, where other's are merely shopping trips to the nearest table cloth factory. To make your charter company a successful one, and leave the passengers wanting to come back to you, you'll have to drive comfortably and safely. The service has to be to everyone's satisfactory, and some entertainment is a plus. A memorable trip with no unpleasant surprises (we just want the exciting ones...), isn't that something we all wish for?

As we can't be behind the wheel 24/7, every driver needs to rest, we can all be tourists and ride along with someone else. If we're lucky maybe we'll bump into that nice couple in seat five and six, from last years trip to Budapest? Or that beautiful woman who sat quietly in the back while we were driving through Provence? If that mysterious man who boarded in Marrakesh last spring suddenly showed up again, now that would be really thrilling.

The experiences we get while traveling with others will all help us on our next trip. Either we're driving our own bus a short trip to a local waterfall, or if we are passengers on a tour to a Mayan temple, we'll know how to make the journey momentous and unforgettable for everyone.

I could on forever here, but I'll better stop here. And of course, this weren't meant to be taken too seriously, it was just an intellectual/philosophical experiment. But I rather like those.

Travelin' (Back In Time)

So. I'm on vacation. Spending a few days at mum's, trying not to think too much about the businesses which I eventually have to give proper attention to. Doing very little but relax and enjoy myself; this is done by seeing my family, eating & drinking, going to the movies and some shopping. (I found some real nice shoes yesterday, and it's good to see I haven't forgotten completely how to waste money on my appearence...)

I arrived in Sweden late Wednesday night, after a long days travel. From Bergen to Oslo I had company, as my dear friend Kari was going east to see her "boyfriend" there. Never has a trainride passed quicker, and although I rather enjoy riding the train in solitude, sharing that trip with a friend was very invigorating. Then I had a few hours to kill at the station, and I allowed myself a meal at the Chinese restaurant. A very simple place, but the food is nice, and the people too.

First day in Sweden I did almost nothing, just sitting down having breakfast with someone was a treat. A lazy, wonderful day it was, just what I needed! In the afternoon I went to see my father, and spent the night there. One of my brothers came over too and I beat them in our favorite card game "Chicago", a game played in three phases, where points are given according to poker ranking and then extra 5 points at the end of the game playing tricks. We played several rounds, and the reason I won all toghether was because I got that straight flush I "ordered". I've got a powerful mind, so be aware... he, he.

Yesterday was all spent in the City of Gothenburg. Lunch with my brothers, followed by some shopping, and then we reunited for coffe, movie and a couple of beers at "Bishop's Arms".

But let's go back to the previous night at my dad's. When the clock struck midnight I thought it would be wise to hit the pillow, but my curiousity got the better of me and I started to rumble through some cases in the living room. You see, only a couple of weeks ago my father had emptied the cellar due to some long awaited renovation, and a lot of that stuff was now sitting right in front of me, tempting me with all its secret content. Obviously I couldn't go to bed, you see that, right? There was on ald box marked with my grandma's name, rather superfluously to me, since it was securely tied together with some old nylon stockings. Her trademark, so to speak.

Inside that box were letters, telegrams and postcards, and real old ones too. I had absolutely no intention of reading them all, not that night and perhaps never, but I browsed a little and picked a few that got my attention. One letter posted to "Mama Bengtsson" from 1939 looked interesting, and knowing my father was 11 at that time I figured it must have been from him and not his 15 year old sister. I was right; there was my father writing home to his parents from where he was for summer vacation at his aunt's. He had just been out fishing with his cousins, and reported sizes and weights of their catches. The letter ended with a plea (his parents were about to join their children later in the summer): "Don't forget my Indian costume!"

Just as I read that, my father, now 79, joined me in the living room. "Listen here!" I said and read it all aloud. In an instant he was back in those days, and told me about that costume which he'd made at school, and for which he'd got the highest mark. I could easily picture him running around the woods playing Indians & Cowboys with Herbert and Ingmar... My father hugged me, he was quite moved. Actually all this was news to him, he'd just got the box when they emptied my grandma's place, and the box had never been opened before. So evidently he'd never seen that telgram sent to him from his aunt, except when he first got it on his third birthday in 1931. Nor had he seen the flowers his mother had picked on Midsummer Day in 1916, 1917 and 1918 and carefully wrapped in paper and stowed away. The rhymed inscriptions on the cards she recieved on her Christmas gift's as a teenager were also total mysteries to him. (And by the way, if you think they were all prim and prudish back then, well - think again. I found some real cute ones, which I might try to translate another time.)

There was correspondence from the time my grandfather sailed with the armoured cruiser "HMS Fylgia"; he'd drawn maps of the South America's and the ports they visited. I think, if I'd have nothing else to do in my entire life, I could fill the time with reading all that stuff. Filling in the gaps with my own imagination, and my father's stories. Hmm, sounds like a project doesn't it?

In The Presence Of Beauty

There’s been a discussion going on lately about angels and spiritualism due to HRH Princess Märtha’s engagement in such matters. That’s not a discussion I’m going to participate in, but I would like to tell you about a recent encounter I had myself with a truly angelic creature. I’ve known her all her life, and according to her I’m her favorite cousin! She’s not the baby I used to read bedtime stories to any longer, and at 27 she’s all grown up. But still, there’s a certain childlike happiness about her that’s absolutely endearing. She’s the kind of person, who seems to be always smiling, and she radiates an undeniable goodness. And - she’s got the voice of an angel.

My son turned 19 last Saturday and I gave him a trip to Sweden, Grandma and Liseberg for his birthday. So that morning we boarded the train with destination Gothenburg, and the same evening my brother picked us up and drove us to our mom’s. You can imagine how surprised and delighted she was to see her grandson, I’d kept the trip a secret the whole time. (I love having secrets, at least the kind you intend to reveal in order to make someone happy)

One of the reasons I wanted to go to Sweden was that I didn’t want to miss (again) the traditional garden concert my mother is hosting. Again I say, since it’s always been held at a “bad” time. This is an annual thing where my angel-like cousin sings and plays various rhythm instruments, her Norwegian (!) fiancé plays the guitar (both acoustic and electric), her father plays the keyboard and the accordion and then there’s a fourth woman (not related) who plays the bass. Contemporary slightly jazzy folk music, could perhaps describe their style. With a humoristic touch. One of the funniest songs is the one about how cultural differences and racism isn’t a problem - "we’re going along just fine, but please tell me how to eat a kebab with dignity…"

First we had something to eat in mom’s garden; I think there were around 65 guests. In keeping with the tradition of twisting the 7 kinds of cake theme, she this year served 7 kinds of vegetables with dip, home baked bread and something to drink. The concert itself is held over at the neighbors actually, first time because they had to move it due to rain, but now just because it’s such a fabulous place. Very charming and very odd to sit in the sheep house (emptied and broomed for the occasion) and look out into a green field with birches, where the cows are coming close to listen to the music. Almost bizarre, but I’ll swear, the cows ran away again when Maja started to sing about the kebab…






The light conditions for taking pictures were awful, with the band standing in the dark with the bright daylight in their backs...

Travelin' Things

I love to travel, especially by train. Very relaxing, lots of time to read and listen to music. The trip to Gothenburg takes about twelve hours, so I might even finish that book I bought the other day. Better buy a magazine as well.

As I walk around here preparing for my holiday, I suddenly remembered something stupid I did last time taking the train. I was going to catch the first train in the morning, and knew I had to get up real early in order to reach the train in time. I had no one to drive me so I had to take the bus. I hate the anxiety of not reaching something, so I planned everything meticulously, and as I don't trust our bus company that much, I probably added another 15 minutes just to be sure. There's one train coming in from Oslo in the morning, and then there's another one returning an hour later. But stupid me, I guess I was thinking too hard, and as result I switched the two trains in my mind and arrived to the station an hour and a half before I had to! It was a cold October morning, and everything was closed.

I'm not doing that mistake again, first of all I'm not taking the earliest train, and secondly I'm not that stupid twice... Better check the ticket again. Yes, 10.28. Another good thing about taking that train is that I don't have to spend 2 or 3 hours at Oslo S, which really is a boring place.

And now one of all these things that travels around the net...

The Bank Account Of Life

Imagine there is a bank that credits your account
Each morning with $86,400.
It carries over no balance from day to day.
Every “evening” deletes whatever part of the
Balance you failed to use during the day.
What would you do?
Draw out every cent, of course !!!

Each of us has such a “bank”
It’s name is TIME.
Every morning,
It credits you with 86,400 seconds.
Every night it writes off, as lost,
Whatever of this you have failed to
Invest to good purpose.
It carries over no balance,
It allows no overdraft.
Each day it opens a new account for you.
Each night it burns the remains of the day.
If you fail to use the day’s deposits,
The loss is yours

There is no going back.
There is no drawing against the “tomorrow.”
You must live in the present
on today’s deposits.
Invest it so as to get
from it the utmost in
health, happiness,
and success!
The clock is running.
Make the most of today.

To realize the value of ONE YEAR …
ask a student who failed a grade.
To realize the value of ONE MONTH …
ask a mother who gave birth
to a premature baby.
To realize the value of ONE WEEK …
ask the editor of a weekly newspaper.
To realize the value of ONE HOUR …
ask the lovers who are waiting to meet.
To realize the value of ONE MINUTE …
ask the person who missed the train.
To realize the value of ONE SECOND …
ask the person who just avoided an accident.
To realize the value of ONE MILLISECOND …
ask the person who won a silver medal
in the Olympics.

Treasure every moment that you have!
And treasure it more because you
Shared it with someone special,
Special enough to spend your time.
And remember that time waits for no one.

Yesterday is history.
Tomorrow is mystery.
Today is a gift.
That’s why it’s called
… The Present!!

Daggers & Diamonds

Got a call from my mother the other day, and she told me that I shouldn't plan anything for the 30th this month (that's the day after I'll arrive in Sweden), 'cause she's planning a evening out for the family. That evening it'll mean her and her fiancé, me, my eldest daughter and my two brothers, and I really look forward to it. Just to be with them for any occasion is nice, but I expect this evening to be some extra ordinary. My mother has booked tickets for Daggers & Diamonds, "a Comedy Art Theater product where the audience is in the centre of events", at Nolhaga Castle. We will be served murder and food and have a what I'll reckon a fantastic night.



This is still a few weeks ahead, and before I leave for Sweden I plan to have another wonderful evening. No murders, just wine. Maybe something good to eat. And since I won the lottery I bought a bottle of something a little more exclusive than usual. A Villalta Amarone, which I hope will be to our satisfactory, even though it's from the lower price range (and slightly young). Amarone is made from grapes that are dried after picking, which produces a rich full-bodied wine. Yummy, I'd say.

"Working Girl"

On Monday I took my old car out for a drive, I had to pay a professor in Rosendal a visit. Even though my practice period at the Institute of Marine Research is over, I am still asked to write a newsletter for them. Really exciting, especially since this is concerning groundbreaking research. (And the fact that I'm getting paid for the job, something I haven't experienced since sometime back in the last millennium...)

Anyhow, the summer has really hit this frozen part of the world, and the sun is sending us it's insidious rays all day long, so the ride in to "Rose Valley" was nothing but delightful. Even the ferry trip, which I usually find quite boring, was nice since I could enjoy the sun from the top deck.

I met with the professor for lunch, and it soon became evident that I am not professional! I realize that this is something I have to work on if I ever want to hold a job. As I didn't know the "procedures" for a meeting like this I chatted away as usual. Everyone who knows me get the picture, right? And when I'm nervous, I get seriously incoherent, talking nonsense, and I felt like an idiot most of the time. Charm really didn't work there.

But maybe it was all in my head? 'Cause I actually said something that caught his attention, and he even said "that was actually very well put, I think I'm going to use that". He, he, I've made a contribution to the "world peace"...

Here are a few glimpses from that day:

The Time Machine

Most people love to travel, and a couple of weeks ago we traveled in the three dimensions of space, by the means of computer technology and Google Earth. Last night we travelled into the fourth dimension, this time aided by YouTube. By simply putting our minds a few decades back, and type in relevant search criteria, we could watch old episodes of Dave Allen, Monty Python, Not The Nine O'clock News and videos of ancient rock stars. We're talking the seventies here... And who won't laugh at the Swedish Chef from the Muppet Show?




H.G. Wells (1866–1946) said in the first chapter of The Time Machine from 1898: "There is no difference between time and any of the three dimensions of space except that our consciousness moves along it."

Wonderful evening, and I could swear I was still sixteen when I left the building. But maybe that had more to do with my travel companion than anything else...

Sardinian Afternoon

That was
such a wonderful
afternoon;
our first day
in Sardinia.
The hazy sky
started
where the
placid water
ended,
and the air
was
blissfully
warm.

A day to be
present.

A day to
remember.

I Think The Earth Moved

I might have mentioned that I'm the honorary treasurer of the club where my son plays basketball, and in connection with that I have just wound up last years accounts. All which is to be presented at the annual meeting. Last night we had a final board meeting before the annual, just to tidy up next years budget and some other things. I didn't tell you this because it's particularly interesting, on the contrary, it's actually quite boring. Figures and numbers that need to be correct, and a lot of talk around it. That's why I needed a little break last night after the meeting.

So what can you do in the middle of February, thats free, and won't take long? Easy. You'll travel the world! With the help of modern technology and a good portion of vivid imagination you can go anywhere in a jiffy.

I drove directly from the meeting to a dear friend of mine. We had something to celebrate, and did that with some cake and coffee and... Yummy, indeed. A little later I said something about wanting to visit Monte Negro sometime. Not exactly sure how far up on the coastline it was situated (it turned out to be much further south than we'd expected), we decided to check it online. But why settle for a crude graphic map when you can use Google Earth? In your own living room you can zoom in on every single spot on the earth, it's absolutely amazing. Not all the maps have equally good resolution, for example my hometown doesn't show that well. But when we started our trip to places he'd been, it became a totally different experience. Iraq, Afghanistan, Kuwait and so on are extremely well represented. But the travel there went further, beyond the actual places. When we came to Babylon, I made some associations to an assignment I had last year. While working on that essay I came across Hammurabi's Code of Laws, and also wrote a blogpost about that.

And like that we traveled here and there, sharing memories and experiences. I took him to Australia and Canada, with a stopover in Sardinia, while he showed me Curacao. We also had a look at a few places neither of us had been before, but that looked tempting. Like the Maldives.

Well back "home" again we suddenly realized that the world had turned upside down on the screen. In Google Earth you can control the map of the world in almost every possible angle and direction, and when we'd zoomed out somehow there was another perspective to it. Refreshing.

Diversion At Hyperspeed

How many steps are there from Corpus Linguistics to homemade furniture? I should be reading for my exam tomorrow, and I'm even trying to, but it's ever so easy to do one click too many, and then you're lost in cyberspace.

I started off quite alright with the web-based compendium, and began to read about different ways of presenting and adapting text that are digitalized on a symbolic level.

• The text can be displayed in different fonts and colors.
• Elements of texts can be linked to other texts or parts of texts (hyperlinks).
• Specific parts of the text (e.g. footnotes, hyperlinks) can be either visible or hidden.
• The text can be translated to another language.
• A summary of the text can be made (e.g. "SweSum")
• We can extract keywords etc. and find structures and relations within the text itself and with other texts.
• We can generate a text from a database, previous texts or other information. (e.g. "SciGen", "PoMo")
• We can create statistics over words and other textual characteristics (e.g. "Ord i dag")

Deliberately I chose not to keep the links from the original, otherwise you might get lost too, but the one that set me off was PoMo, a text generator that delivers nonsense academic papers. Quote from the creator: "The essay you have just seen is completely meaningless and was randomly generated by the Postmodernism Generator [...] using a system for generating random text from recursive grammars."

So, what did I find on PoMo, besides the fact that I absolutely love "silly" things like that? (And the fact that it's not silly, considering that actually a few generated papers like these have been accepted as real. That opens up for a series of important questions, I believe.) What I found else was a "Sites I Like" link list on the right, and from there I jumped to MAKE: Blog - hilarious! One of the posts drew my attention, and I clicked again. Then I decided to blog about it myself, after all, that's what's is all about, isn't it? Diversion At Hyperspeed ...

Deathwish?

Then I recommend watching this presentation for ideas...

Sea, Stars & Salvation

"A long time ago there was this little sailor girl. She was desirous, she had her own ship and she ruled the seas. No storm was too fierce, no wave too high. As she got older she began sailing in company, and for decades they traveled great distances and guested many ports. The sea was sometimes rough, but nothing she couldn't handle. She was a redheaded viking, she was a Phoenician queen, she was a pirate of the seven seas .

One day the ship went under.

She was caught by a current; did almost drown. Hardly knowing what was up or down she managed to swim to the surface, and she grasped desperately for air. Now the night had fallen.

In the dim moonlight she could see floating debris all around her, but she was alone. Her company was nowhere to be seen. She gathered the remains of the ship, and made herself a simple raft. The night seemed to have no ending, and she drifted at sea for an eternity. All she could do was to watch the dark sky, and map the stars. Her mind was a mirror of the universe; endless, unexplored and incomprehensible. Lost.

Yes, she was lost. She watched the stars and recognized Ursa Minor, only to realize that she didn't know what to do with it. Her navigating skills were nothing more than a vague memory, impossible to retrieve. What had happened? Hadn't she been sailing for all her life? Exhausted she fell asleep, and she lay shivering in the cold night. As the sun rose next morning, and the first ray of light hit her eyes, she woke up again.

She stood up on the raft and turned around, slowly. In all directions there was nothing but water, water, water. That first day the weather was fine and the sea stayed calm. She had managed to salvage supplies from the boat, so for the moment she had both water to drink and food to eat.

This is a story, so how she could survive on the raft for so long is a mystery we don't have to explain, but true is that she was there. Some days were so glorious she almost forgot she was lost, and others so tempestuous she wished for the sharks to rip her flesh and end her sufferings. Days, weeks and months went by. Even years. And all the time she wondered how she had ended up drifting at sea. Sometimes she was close enough to see the shore, and birds came visiting her on the raft. And occasionally other boats passed by her, and she waved to the people on board. She shouted to them as well. Why didn't they pick her up, you may ask? This is a story, remember? Things don't work the same way here.

But anyway, she sat there on her raft and asked herself all these questions. Was it possible it was all a dream? Maybe the others didn't see what she knew? Maybe her raft was a mirage, looking like a full-rigged ship from a distance? And how could they know she had let someone else steer her ship for so long she'd forgotten how to sail? And the ocean was bottomless and dark."

Not to be taken too seriously, it's a story, alright?

Dreamy Sleepyhead

I'm sitting in one of the computer rooms at the university, almost asleep. No one's here so I'm considering resting my head on the desk and take a quick nap. The university has some serious problems with the ventilation, and I know they're working on it, but clearly this room hasn't got their attention yet. My intentions her today quickly vanished like the dew on the windows, and I let my thoughts drift off with the vapour.

Through the windows I can hear the the worksmen talking, it's probably lunchtime, but the words make no sense, only a murmur. It doesn't matter anyway. When I look out, the only thing I see is the yellow building on the other side of the yard, and a thin stripe of cloudy sky over the roof. A magpie blithefully flutters by, and lands on the edge of the roof, where he so indifferently follows his nature. The once dark sill below him is now stained white after years of visits from this Pica pica and his friends. I then hear a plane, and very soon it's also visible in my frame. I place my mind inside the plane and travel further, imagine myself flying higher into the sky. We ascend above the cloud cover, and I float into a bright insentience.

Without warning I hit the ground. Still a bit drowsy I notice the lecturer is entering the door, and the break is over. The birds outside lift off and take to the sky again.

Sunset In Alghero

Amazing Sardinia

This was just going to be an experiment, wanted to see if I could post a few pics to Flickr straight here from an Internetcafe in Alghero, Sardinia. But silly me brought the wrong cable, have to try another day. Or maybe not, I actually do have better things to do than sit at this cafe all day. Honestly, this was just half an hour while waiting for the rest to get ready for a night out.

I'll love it here, Sardinia i magnificent. I've been around in the world, but I don't think I've ever been so sure I would like to revisit a place like this time. Do you want to come with me?

Airport

Couldn't resist the temptation. I came across a Sidewalk Express and gladly paid 2 euro to connect to the online world. This won't be happening much later on though, this is just killing time waiting for the rest of the bunch to show up. Have a nice week, and I'll se you soon.

By the way: Thanks Toril for driving me home...

Sea And Sardinia

How I love when everything makes sense, even though it might be a temporary illusion. I'll enjoy it while it lasts. Tomorrow I'll be going away for a week, 'cause I have a fantastic mother who decided to treat her children with a holiday. Her children are now almost grown up at 40, 45 and 50, but we're doing our very best to stay young in mind. I think we're quite successful at that as well. Anyway, we're going to Sardinia, and I thought I'd post to the blog just once more before I'll leave.

As usual I have some ideas, or some sort of inspiration, on how and what about to write, but nothing is ever set from the beginning. Strange things and coincidenses happen all time, and are fantastic sources for my ponderings. This day has given me a few already, but the clue is to connect them all; ideas, thoughts, everyday events and peculiar incidents. If I'm able to do that, and moreover, put it in writing, I get this tremendous good feeling - ah, it fits!

So, searching the web for a suitable picture to accompany my Sardiniapost I came across this one, ready with the quote and everything:



It turns out D.H. Lawrence and his wife spent a week or so on Sardinia, and he then wrote a travelbook - Sea and Sardinia. The quote from this book hit me like a sudden wind, whirling up some forgotten desires. Liked that. "...Strong and wonderful chords awake in us, and vibrate again after many years of complete forgetfulness..." Yeah, really liked that.

Lost myself there for a moment, almost forgot what I was about to do here, and so there won't be a smart and effective closure to this post as I intended. Sardinia next! A week of relaxation, and expectations, nice food and wine, and long walks and talks in warm evenings. And let there be music; if nothing else, always the music.

Retreat

A woman with sore feet is no joke, and now I'm taking the train home to mom. These are the words I sent to my brother when I decided I was too tired to do anything with him later in the afternoon. Once again I had let vanity defeat practicality and wore high heals for my day in town. Stupid? You could say that.

Before I got tired I had lunch with my brother at the largest indoor market we have here in Gothenburg, and that was very nice and also very suitable for a students wallet. Not only because he was buying, even the poorest could afford a meal there. 30-40 SEK (4-5 USD) for a bowl of your favourite soup, including bread roll and refill! We then had a great dobbel lungo at one of the innumerous coffeeplaces around and after that my brother returned to work. Rejuvinated with caffeine I went on my own to Lerverk, a ceramics cooperative, and did a little promoting. That could turn out to be interesting.

And then I did all this walking. Up and down, from bookstore to bookstore, and the rain kept pouring. (I got one book though, Russels Turkey. It's not yet translated into English, but it might very well be, I have a feeling this is a good one. Poirier is a philosopher who here writes about science as a phenomenon constructed by humans, sometimes driven by single geniuses and at other times by broad researchprograms. As it says on the back of the cover "Russels Turkey becomes a intellectual toolbox, for use at keeping science, religion, culture and individual peoples ideas apart - as far as this is possible.")

In the end all I wanted was a hug, it's kind of miserable to be alone when I want to share this beautiful town with someone I care for. Oops, enough. So I took the the train home...